Page 7

Chapter Seven

Miles had been restless since leaving Molly at the clinic last night. On the one hand, he was proud of stating his mind. On the other… He felt like a pushy jerk. He’d pretty much forced her to accept his intention to date her. To have more than the tenuous connection they currently had through Bryce. Why had it taken a crisis for him to speak up and state his case?

His behavior bugged him, but not nearly as much as his concern over her situation in general. Unable to distract himself from one disastrous scenario after another, he’d spent most of the night in the clinic parking lot, listening to the police scanner app for any sign of the blue pickup. And ready to back up the lone security guard if anyone came after her.

Who was he kidding? The odds were zero to none. She was dealing with a custody battle. He was the one waiting for a Vedras enforcer to show up.

Still, he’d checked in with Jess about that truck. The driver shouldn’t have been able to get off the island without being spotted. Instead of answers, he’d been given assurances that the research techs were handling it. Which didn’t make his day go any better than his night.

He worked on paperwork, spent some time sweating over the E-scow. Returned calls to a couple of groups about sailing lessons as a team-building thing.

Through it all, he couldn’t shake the gut instinct that there was more going on with Molly’s situation. Was that his own borderline paranoia or something worth heeding? Exercising some self-control, he waited until noon before he checked in with Jess again.

She’d let him know Molly had been discharged and was doing fine. She’d further assured him Molly wasn’t being left alone. So why didn’t his anxiety ease up?

As the afternoon hours ticked away, he told himself Bryce would be by soon—with either Sharon or Molly—and he could get more information directly from the source.

More than once, he picked up the phone to call the police, but the odds of them giving him any helpful information were low. It was maddening to think someone could get away with a hit-and-run in a town this small.

Knowing it was silly, Miles drove to the school, watching from across the street in case Molly or Sharon needed him. He could still make it back to the marina before they did. Assuming Bryce had behaved himself. Killing time, he called Jess again, expecting her to let the call go straight to voicemail.

“Miles.” She sighed. “Nagging me doesn’t help.”

“Helps me,” he admitted. “And what if I’m not nagging you? Maybe I’m in the middle of a crisis. Under attack.”

She swore. “Forgive me for being so callous. Are you under attack, Miles?”

“Not so far.”

“Stay away from my office and your peaceful streak should last,” she warned.

She cracked him up. “How did the driver get off the island while avoiding all witnesses?”

“We’re working on it.” She sounded as edgy as he felt. “Obviously he didn’t go by ferry or someone would have seen the damage.”

“How did he leave the damn scene?” With all the safety features that were now standard, the pickup’s airbag should have deployed, making it impossible to leave the scene. Of course, he was assuming the truck was modern. Neither Molly nor Sharon had seen anything but the headlights. The driver could have been using a vehicle that predated airbags.

And he was back to paranoia.

“Tell me my gut isn’t the only one screaming this was a setup?” Miles couldn’t shake it. That’s where the facts were leading. First the custody paperwork, then the collision right as she sought some support.

“The police are handling the car accident. My priority is to help her through the custody issue.”

She’d pulled out the stern cop voice. Probably worked like a charm on most folks. “You don’t think the two events are related?”

“Miles, you are a sailing school instructor.”

True. And he was more. “We both know my skills are vast.”

Jess exhaled loudly, clearly exasperated with him. “Why are you testing me? I have other things to do. Personnel to oversee. You know, my regular job.”

“Hear me out.” Across the street, the dismissal bell sounded.

“As if I have a choice,” she grumbled.

“What if the collision was staged to make Molly look bad?” He refused to voice his fear that someone might’ve been trying to outright kill her to smooth the custody transition to the boy’s grandparents. “What if the escape was as deliberate as the accident because someone planned this carefully? Someone who’s been watching her.”

“Then you’d jump to the top of my suspect list,” Jess observed. “You watch Molly plenty.”

The car line started moving and Miles spotted Sharon’s spunky little crossover. Molly wasn’t with her. “Ha ha. I’d never do anything to jeopardize her.” He sent Molly a text, trying not to worry when she didn’t respond right away.

“Miles, I don’t disagree with you,” she admitted. “But until we can prove it, we’re in a holding pattern. They were hit at an intersection without any cameras nearby.”

All the more suspicious in his opinion. “There aren’t many cameras outside of Central,” he said. “Unless we’re looking at neighborhoods.” Of course, more cameras were in play around the marina because he’d installed them himself.

He waited until Bryce was buckled into the back seat and Sharon eased forward with the exiting traffic before he pulled away. He zipped along the back way to get to the marina ahead of them.

“With only two primary ways off the island, the collision has to be deliberate,” he insisted. “How else does the driver escape without a trace? She was targeted for a reason.”

“Have you told her how you feel?” Jess asked.

“What? Don’t change the subject.” He heard Jess snort, probably smothering a laugh. “This isn’t just because I like her.”

“Mm-hm. At least admit that it’s a factor.”

Miles curled his fingers around the steering wheel. “Fine. You’re right. I will keep protecting them.” And doing his own investigating.

“As long as she’s okay with that,” Jess warned.

“I told her I want to be more than friends.” Crap. He wanted to grab the words back. His personal life wasn’t her business, as long as he didn’t inadvertently get involved with someone who worked for the Vedras family. If he could be sure of anything, it was that Molly wasn’t part of that crew.

“Miles—”

“One more thing to consider,” he began. “Do you think the accident was a stunt to draw me out?” He couldn’t afford to dismiss any possibilities. “Should I call Knox?”

“I already did,” Jess said. “Everything that brushes up against you gets sent up the chain to headquarters.”

That couldn’t be true. He didn’t deserve that kind of attention or dedication. But she didn’t backpedal or downplay the statement. “Oh my God. You’re serious.”

“Yes, I am. Keeping you alive is serious business. I’ve explained that.”

Well, yeah. He assumed it was because someone might need him to testify. But he hadn’t believed he mattered. Not really. All his life, he’d been pretty much disposable. That basic opinion hadn’t changed until college when his professors discovered he was capable of creating code and apps that innovated and elevated remote security capabilities.

Hell, even during the Vedras operation, he’d felt disposable. Sure, the Guardian Agency had been thorough during his recruitment and training. They’d promised him layers of security protocols when he went undercover. But in the middle of it, the isolation was real. The loneliness had become his day-to-day truth, giving him too much time to dwell on his old fears of being overlooked and forgotten.

He’d lost faith that anyone was out there keeping tabs on him.

At the marina, he parked behind the office. “Should I mention it to Molly?”

“I don’t think so. Until we have evidence to the contrary, there’s no need to worry her.”

“You don’t consider that car seat evidence to the contrary? No way in hell Molly would risk Bryce’s safety. ”

“Miles, please work with me,” Jess said. “It’s also true that seat belts can malfunction and the restraints can loosen over time.”

Miles didn’t argue. Jess wasn’t wrong. She was just wrong about Molly. “All right.”

In so many ways, it seemed as if Molly went the extra mile just to make sure no one could label her an insufficient or unsatisfactory mother.

Not a chance.

Bryce was a smart, thriving little boy. Excited about life and confident about his place in the world. He didn’t cower or shy away from new experiences, whether it was a new vegetable on his dinner plate or a chance to play at the marina. He was a curious kid who couldn’t stop asking questions.

Miles didn’t know anything about the boy’s father. Didn’t want to. When he looked at Bryce, he saw a small version of Molly. Whether she realized it or not, she was just as curious, and in many ways just as confident, in her place in the world.

He didn’t want some stunt from her past or his to wreck that.

“Thanks,” he said at last. “Sometimes I forget just how good the agency is.” Gamble and Swann did things the right way, especially when it came to their people. Including him.

“You’re not the only one,” she said. “But isn’t it nice that you can live your life without some burly guy in a suit and an earpiece dogging your every step?”

Just imagining Knox decked out like that made Miles laugh. “Fair enough. I’ll quit nagging, if you promise to keep me in the loop. All the loops.”

“Absolutely. And you do the same because I know you won’t stop watching Molly.”

“Watching over .” He emphasized the essential difference. “I’m no stalker.”

Laughing at him, Jess ended the call.

He checked again, but Molly still hadn’t responded. He called, but it went straight to voicemail. “Hey Molly, it’s Miles. Just checking in. If you need anything give me a call or send a text.” Jess had asked him to have some faith and he owed it to her to try. Although tempted to get back in his car and swing by her house, he stayed the course in case Sharon and Bryce came down to watch the boats.

But the unanswered messages left him wondering about Molly. What kind of emotional baggage kept her from going out and dating? She was so devoted to her son. It seemed she only went to work without him. Had she been in love with Bryce’s father?

If so, he had to get past it if he wanted to build something with her. Stupid to be jealous of a man presumed dead. Especially a con man presumed dead.

Fortunately for Miles, Sharon and Bryce arrived, heading straight for the docks. The breeze was picking up, though the day remained clear and bright. The rigging, stirred by the breeze and the choppy water, jingled and clanged in a rhythmic melody that soothed Miles as effectively as a lullaby.

He suspected Bryce felt the same way. With a fresh ocean breeze in his face, the activity and movement around the marina would be a fascinating change from school.

The water offered a different way of learning. Different skills and challenges. Some of them with more serious consequences than a smiley face in a box or a grade in the book.

Bryce had paused near a sunfish tied to the dock. He was gesturing broadly and seemed to be talking nonstop. Sharon smiled down at her great-nephew, indulging him.

During the sailing school season Miles had several craft tethered at the dock, ready for students. But February wasn’t a busy time of year. The cold water deterred all but the most determined students, but the lull gave Miles time to focus on his own projects .

“Miles!” Bryce shouted, racing up the dock. “Mr. Miles!”

Dropping to one knee, Miles braced for impact and Bryce skidded to a stop in front of him. “Hey bud, how was school?”

“Good. I got a hundred on my sight words,” he reported.

“Way to go.” He caught Sharon’s eye over Bryce’s head. “Hello. How are you feeling?”

She smiled, looking as content as always. The woman didn’t seem to have a scratch on her from last night’s accident. “I’m great, thanks.”

“Create any new masterpieces today?” It was a question he often tossed out, just to make her roll her eyes.

“Not today.” She grinned. “I consumed a masterful brunch, though.”

“Did I miss a grand opening?”

“No. It was a private invitation. Roxy Billings and Connie Copeland.”

“Miz Connie the baker?” Bryce asked. “Do you have leftovers?”

“The same. And yes, I do,” she said to Bryce.

“Can we go home?” He tugged on her hand.

Laughing, she turned him to face the water. “You just said you wanted to stay here forever.”

“If you have things to do, he can hang out with me,” Miles offered.

Bryce’s tune changed again. “Please, Aunt Sharon? Please?” He hopped up and down as he pleaded with her.

“Maybe another day. I think your momma would be happier if we stuck together today.”

Bryce settled down, nodding somberly, as if the weight of the world rested on his little shoulders. “Okay.”

“I bet your mom appreciates you sticking close.”

“Yeah.” He swiped the hair out of his face, turning into the wind and leaning a little. “We’re taking dinner home,” he said. “You could come too. ”

“Oh. Well…”

“That’s a fantastic idea, honey.” Sharon beamed at him before he could make any excuses. “We’d love to have you.”

“If you’re sure it’s not an imposition.” He didn’t want to upset Molly or set back his plans with her by showing up uninvited everywhere.

“Absolutely not,” Sharon assured him. “It’s the least we can do after all the help you gave us yesterday.”

“I told you I didn’t expect anything in return,” he reminded her.

“And you didn’t possibly expect me to accept that,” she replied with a wink.

Hospitality was the name of the game in this part of the world. Something he appreciated more after living and traveling elsewhere. Although on occasion, hospitality could feel like a competitive sport.

Bryce tugged on his hand, started hauling him up toward the E-scow. “Did you work on the boat today? What did you fix? When will you take it out?”

“Time out,” Miles said, laughing. “Why don’t I show you?” He turned to Sharon. “Do you have a few minutes?”

“We do.” She beamed.

“You can tell us all about it,” Bryce said. “Then we can have dinner and you can tell Mom.”

“You sound pretty confident she’ll like that.”

“Mm-hm. As long as you chew before you talk. She likes you. Even if she doesn’t like boats.”

Bryce darted ahead to the work area, chattering even though the wind swept his words away. Then he came racing back, his eyes wide. This time he slammed right into Miles and held on to his leg for dear life.

“Hey, bud. What’s the matter?” He scooped him up and saw a tear trailing down his cheek before he buried his face in Miles’s shoulder .

Sharon rubbed the boy’s back. “Talk to us, honey? Did you fall?”

He lifted his head. “It’s the boat. It’s wrecked.”

With Bryce in his arms, Miles jogged up closer to his work space. It was a glorified carport over a concrete pad with locking cabinets on one end for his tools and security cameras at each corner. He’d been thrilled when the city permitted him to install it so he could more easily handle repair work and restorations like the E-scow.

Despite the sunny afternoon, Miles flipped the switch for the overhead lights. He checked the camera in the closest corner. The red light glowed. Whatever had upset Bryce would be available on security footage when he got back to the office.

At first, everything looked okay, and then Miles saw the splatters of red paint on the concrete. He managed not to swear in front of Bryce.

He handed the boy to Sharon. “Got him?”

She nodded.

“You two wait right here,” he instructed.

“Should I call the police?”

His first instinct was to resist. He wasn’t sure he wanted any official help just yet. But it would keep her occupied and distracted. “Sure, go ahead. Can you call Jess too?”

“Yes.” She set Bryce on his feet, blocking the view of the workspace and holding his hand while she made the calls.

Focused, Miles moved closer to the paint spatter. Someone had splashed the red paint across the hull. He followed the drips to the scrawled threat near the stern and groaned. He was really grateful Bryce was concentrating on sight words these days. And that he hadn’t seen the nasty death threat painted in block letters. He looked closer and figured the vandal had dipped their gloved fingers in the paint. None of the markings had any obvious fingerprints .

Annoyed, Miles walked around to the other side of the boat.

“Do boats bleed?”

Miles would’ve laughed if it wasn’t so troubling. Sharon handled the question with her typical steady grace and Miles continued his search.

It did look like blood at first glance and he regretted that Bryce was first to see it. He’d bring him in here and reassure him as soon as he got things cleaned up.

“They’re on their way, Miles,” Sharon called out.

“Thanks,” he said, joining them once more.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s vandalism.” He rolled his shoulders. “Unpleasant, but nothing we can’t fix.” He crouched down to look Bryce in the eye. “I’m sorry you had to see the ugly stuff.”

“You can really fix it?

“Yup. It’ll take a little elbow grease but she’ll be just fine.”

“Boats are girls,” Bryce explained to Sharon.

“Thanks for reminding me.” She kept stroking his hair and shoulders, keeping him calm. “No other damage?”

Miles shook his head.

“Good.” Bryce sniffled and Miles realized he’d been crying. “I was scared for your boat,” he admitted.

“Probably scared we wouldn’t be able to go out in it, right?”

Bryce’s lower lip stuck out. “I want to sail with you.”

“I want that too.” Ruffling the boy’s hair, he stood.

“Who’s that?” Bryce whispered, pointing toward a car pulling up behind the workspace.

Miles turned to see Knox. “A friend of mine.” That gave Miles pause. He hadn’t known Knox was in town. Hadn’t seen him in a few months. “He’s good people.” Jess had told him there was protection close by. He should start trusting her more .

“And there’s the chief,” Sharon added as Caldwell arrived. He stopped his official SUV behind Knox’s vehicle.

“Jess said you have a problem.” He introduced himself to Sharon and Bryce. “Knox Moore. A friend of Miles.” He stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you both.”

Sharon slanted a look toward Miles and all he could do was shrug. “Sharon Trumble and her great-nephew Bryce,” Miles supplied.

“What a pleasure to meet a friend of Miles’s. I don’t think I’ve seen you around town,” Sharon said.

“I’m on the road a lot. Regional work up and down the coast,” he explained. “Miles and I go way back.”

Miles managed not to blow apart the fiction his “friend” was spinning. Yes, he’d known Knox for a couple of years, not nearly long enough to qualify as “way back” the way the locals defined it.

Bryce, staring at Knox with more than a little awe on his face, tugged on Sharon’s hand. She bent down to listen as he whispered in her ear. After a beat, Sharon nodded once and straightened. “Go ahead,” she murmured.

Bryce puffed out his chest. “If you’re Mr. Miles’s friend, you can come to dinner tonight.”

Again, Miles thought maybe they should ask how Molly felt about more company, but technically it was Sharon’s home they would be visiting. Better to roll with the waves than fight.

“Hey, thanks,” Knox said. “That would be really great. As long as we figure this out quickly, I’m in. Okay?”

“Okay.” Bryce stuck out his hand to shake on it.

“We’ll just stay out of the way,” Sharon said. “See how things go.”

Miles really wanted to see Molly. He rocked back on his heels. “You can hang out on the dock. I changed up your favorite bench a bit. Bryce, you’ll want to check it out. ”

“Can I?” he asked Sharon.

“Sure. I’ll be right behind you. Remember our rules.”

“I will, I promise,” he said, running down toward the water. He wasn’t allowed to sit on the edge of the dock without a grown-up next to him or a life jacket on.

“Go take a look,” he urged. “I turned it into a storage bench,” he explained. “You’ll find a nice cushion in there and a couple of life jackets too.”

“That is so thoughtful, Miles.” With a warm smile, she followed in Bryce’s wake.

He’d noticed she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the plain, weathered wood. And considering how much time she spent down here with her great-nephew, it was the least he could do for her.

With no chance of being overheard now, Miles joined Chief Caldwell and Knox in the workspace. They were both staring at the vandalism and the tension simmered, ready to boil over. “Thoughts or theories?” he asked.

“I’ll need a look at your security footage,” the chief said. “Gotta be our best lead.”

Miles tucked his hands into his pockets. “No problem.” Miles didn’t have anything to hide except the quality of the security. “I can send copies or let you go through it in my office.”

The chief turned and Miles found himself pinned by the experienced cop’s gaze. “Who did you piss off? And why is your friend involved?”

“More than a friend,” Knox said. “Technically his bodyguard. A low-key protection detail.”

Caldwell rocked back on his heels. “And I’m just learning about this because…?” He wagged a finger between them. “Don’t give me any “need-to-know nonsense, Moore. You ran a bit rough with the oldest Frasier boy when y’all were kids, if I recall. ”

Miles watched Knox closely. Why didn’t he know his bodyguard-friend had personal history in this area?

“That’s right,” Knox confirmed. “We grew out of it.”

“Right.” The chief pointed at the boat. “If you brought trouble to my island…”

Neither of them needed him to finish that thought. “The goal was to specifically not bring trouble here,” Miles said.

Knox edged forward, shielding him from Caldwell’s hard, skeptical glare. The move impressed Miles. “Chief, Miles did some unusual work for the Guardian Agency a while back.”

“The same group Jess works for now.”

“That’s right,” Knox confirmed. “Since Miles grew up in the area?—”

“I know where he was raised,” the chief interjected. “What’s the point?”

Miles swallowed. Did the chief have all the details of his foster care life? His high school record?

“Well, things went a little sideways during an operation,” Knox continued. “We thought it best if Miles came back home until things cooled down.”

Caldwell folded his arms over his chest, his gaze assessing the two of them. “Does that mean you’re heading back into that operation?”

Miles answered before Knox could sow any seeds of doubt. “No sir. My work on that is over.” He was here to stay. With a little luck, he and Molly could start something amazing in the near future.

“Uh-huh.” Caldwell tapped his foot. “So what you’re not saying is you came home so that you can keep an eye out for anyone who might have tracked you here.”

“Odds of that are extremely low,” Knox said.

“And yet, here you are, which tells me the odds are not zero,” Caldwell said. He jerked a thumb toward the mess on the boat. “That all but confirms trouble has followed you, young man.”

“It’s the ‘all but’ that we’re working on,” Knox pointed out. “We haven’t seen any signs that the trouble has followed Miles. This vandalism might not be related.”

Caldwell snorted. “Too soon to count out anything. And I’ll have a word with Jess. Y’all can’t just come in here and use my island as some sort of witness protection center without giving me a heads up.”

Miles didn’t point out that telling anyone went against witness protection protocols, but since he wasn’t actually in the U.S. Marshals wit-sec it seemed irrelevant. Laughter down on the dock distracted him. He glanced over and saw Bryce in the life jacket, sitting beside his aunt. His thoughts drifted to Molly, the custody issue, and the collision.

He’d made no secret of his interest in Molly. Hadn’t bothered to be discreet when he’d visited her last night, helped her family, or kept watch at the clinic. Suddenly, he was very grateful he’d done that. Without looking at Knox, he said, “It’s possible there’s another explanation.”

Caldwell glared. “Well, spit it out and let’s put this mess behind us. I’d like to get home to dinner.”

“I’m breaching her privacy, but that damned collision last night.” Miles rubbed his clenched jaw. “Molly was recently served with papers. Bryce’s grandparents on his father’s side want custody of the boy. He spends a lot of time down here around the marina.”

Caldwell’s gaze tracked down to the dock. “That boy idolizes you.”

The compliment surprised Miles and he cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is this vandalism could be related to that situation.”

Knox frowned. “Why trash your boat?”

“Who knows?” Miles shrugged. “I’m just suggesting other possible explanations. Since we’re not overlooking anything.” And he hoped like hell it wasn’t a weak first volley from the Vedras family. He couldn’t leave town when Molly needed him.

Caldwell muttered an oath under his breath. “You know how to clean this up? I don’t want the vandalism sitting out here to inspire anyone else with idle hands.”

“Yes sir, I’ll get right on it,” Miles promised.

“Thanks.” Caldwell sighed. “Let me get some pictures first. I’m going to write this up the right way. Whether this mess is about your issue or Molly’s, I want the proper documentation in place.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

The chief nodded once and pulled out his phone. “When I’m done with this, I want a good look at that security footage,” he called over his shoulder.

“Sure thing. I’ll give you the key to the office. Knox can go along,” Miles offered. “You two can go through the footage while I clean this up.”

Knox gave him a hard look but Miles refused to change his mind. “It’s the fastest way we all get to dinner,” he pointed out.

That seemed to tip the decision in his favor.

“Sounds like we have a plan, boys,” Caldwell said. “Let’s do it.”