Page 15

Leaning against Cole’s Yukon, Jo kept her composure.

She figured she probably couldn’t find him in the rainforest. After all, as a quiet professional, he’d been trained to blend into a crowd of people or a dense forest. Jo only had an artist’s eye.

Not to mention, she wasn’t stupid. She didn’t want to accidentally get shot for stalking around in her own backyard.

Still, she did not believe for one minute that Cole would have mistaken her for a bad guy.

Just like right now, he knew exactly who was leaning against his vehicle, even though her face was hidden deep in the shadows of her raincoat hood.

Shoulders taut, he emerged from the dark woods and stalked toward her, looking every bit the hero that he was.

Her heart beat erratically at the sight of him.

She vacillated between fury at Cole for intruding into her life and appreciation for the former special forces hero who was here to help her.

To protect her. She should be grateful. She was grateful, but still .

.. it rankled that he took so many liberties.

A thrill rushed through her core.

I’m in dangerous territory.

His frown deepened as he approached, raindrops sliding down his handsome tanned face, tracking through his stubbled cheeks. His lips flattened. And honestly, she couldn’t tell if he was happy to see her or angry that she was here.

“What are you doing?” His thick brow arched.

Yeah. Angry. But then she saw a spark behind his dark eyes. She pushed from his vehicle to stand. “Me? What are you doing here?”

“Someone tried to kill you. You need to take that seriously. I’m here to make sure no one is going to try to come for you at home.”

I did this to myself . Three years of hiding, and all it had taken was going out of her little corner of the world in the Olympic Peninsula.

But it was time to crawl out from under the rock and learn the truth.

Cole’s sudden appearance to look into her mother’s death was all she needed to keep the momentum going.

Cole shifted his gaze, searching the woods around them.

The sound of a passing car drew his attention, but no one drove up the rutted path.

Wary and suspicious, protective, Cole couldn’t be anything but himself.

A hero. Maybe she shouldn’t be giving him a hard time.

“You could have talked to me about checking the rainforest around my house first.”

“Would you have agreed?”

I don’t know. A cold gust in the face felt almost like a rebuff. Just as well. “It’s getting late. Let’s go back to my house and talk about it.”

Without waiting for his response, she trotted around the truck and climbed in on the passenger side.

In the driver’s seat, he started the vehicle.

The heat blasted but didn’t chase away the chill.

Though it was typical Pacific Northwest cold and rainy, she relished the beautiful forest painted in thick, green moss.

With trees closing in around them, Cole couldn’t turn around on such a narrow road, so he backed all the way to the highway, then steered onto the two-lane road returning to town.

“You hiked all the way out here?” he finally asked. “How did you even find me?”

“I decided I needed a breath of fresh air,” she said. And the lush rainforest always settled her thoughts and heart.

“In this weather?”

“Yeah, well, I took a long walk in the woods because, like you, I started wondering if someone might decide to approach my house to watch me.”

“Are you carrying?”

“Always.”

“A gun? Not just the wrench?”

“You’d be surprised how often ‘Little Jo’ has saved me.” Not counting a time or two she wished she’d had a deadly weapon that could be used from a distance. “But yes, I have a handgun too.”

“Good.”

“While I was out walking, I saw a vehicle and decided to check it out, then recognized it. I figured you’d be back soon.

I was only waiting a few minutes. I’m not going to lie, it was getting cold, and I was about to head back to my tiny, safe house hidden in English ivy.

Even though I enjoy walking, I’m glad for the ride. ”

“You sound relaxed, Jo, and while I’m glad the fresh air and nature did you good, I don’t like that you were out walking alone.” He entered the small town of Forestview and turned right at a stoplight. “Have you heard anything from your father?”

“Nope. I’m not sure I want to.” She stared out the window.

“I don’t believe you.”

“All right. All right. Just considering the possibility that maybe I shouldn’t count on hearing from him.” Was it wrong she wanted to protect herself from being hurt again?

“But more than anything, you want to know that he’s okay.”

“I want to know what and who he’s running from, and I want to—” Tears choked out her next words. She couldn’t finish. “Like I said, he can take care of himself. I need justice for my mother, and I figure since you’re looking into it, along with the Michigan cop, that it can finally happen.”

Cole said nothing, and Jo appreciated the way he listened. He knew when to press her, and he understood when to give her time to think and process. He gave her space. Cole knew entirely too much about her. She’d let him get too close.

Maybe she had run him off. Because she’d needed space, and he’d left to give her all the space she needed. Then he just kept going. Yeah, that was all on her. She didn’t know how to cross the emotional abyss between them. Or why he would suddenly show up and be all in to help her.

God , help me , I don’t know why.

Images of their passionate kisses seized her heart and mind, and she forced them away.

Whatever happened between her and Cole just wasn’t as important as the fact that Cole was now investigating her mother’s murder.

“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” he finally said.

“It’s weird. Just three days ago, I was fixing a toilet.

Nobody wants to fix a toilet. That’s the job for grunts.

The bottom-of-the-rung stuff. But you know what?

I wasn’t stressed. I had no anxiety. I was looking forward to making a taco casserole Pop wanted to try.

” She looked at Cole. “I’m not a Texan, but he introduced me to the food, and you really can’t get true Tex-Mex food here in Washington. Oregon either. I tried.”

“You can get it in Spokane,” he said. “There’s a couple of chains there.”

“Well, I didn’t know that.” A small laugh escaped. Here they were talking about Tex-Mex food when her life was falling apart. But sometimes you had to cling to the small familiar things to keep your head on straight.

Cole slowed to the requisite fifteen miles per hour through the neighborhood. He turned up the driveway, passing Mrs. Crawford’s house, then onto the easement to Spruce Hollow. “How did you work out this arrangement to live on the property behind her house anyway? You never said.”

“How do you think? Mrs. Crawford is friends with Mrs. Monroe.” Evelyn Monroe was an eccentric elderly woman with a heart of gold who lived in a mansion on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and she owned the Cedar Trails Lodge.

She maintained secretive connections that allowed her to assist those who needed to disappear or hide from the danger pursuing them.

Jo had been one of those people. Jo had told him all about it back in their short, very sweet romance.

Maybe she’d only imagined it. After all, they had both been recovering from a severe near-death trial.

Mrs. Crawford came out onto the porch. Jo waved to let the woman know everything was okay. Cole steered toward the house in the back.

“Doesn’t it look like part of the forest?” Jo took pride in the vines, greenery, and moss.

“It does,” he said. “Except you have all the lights on and anyone can see inside.”

“I don’t like the curtains drawn. The forest is like a work of art on my walls. That reminds me, I have some drawings I need to show you. They could mean something.”

“Mean something how, and to which case?”

“I’ll explain when I show you.” She didn’t remember see ing this person back in Michigan, but the face was in her mind, and now in pencil and charcoal, and even in the sand on the beach in the summer.

She might try to sculpt it, even. If she showed it to the investigator in Michigan tomorrow, would it mean anything to him?

He continued steering slowly toward the house, then parked in front.

They got out and Jo led him to the door, unlocked it, and entered. “At least I know if someone is inside or not. There’s nowhere to hide.”

“But they could just attack you from the outside. You have no protection here.”

“Do you always have to be so cynical?”

“You have to ask me that? You know some of what I’ve done in my life. Where I’ve been. I spent too many years serving on protective details and conducting threat assessments, before that was actually my job description.”

She stepped up to the counter to make coffee. “You’d have me live in that World War II bunker on the coast, wouldn’t you?”

“Never. I’d have you live free of danger.” He stepped closer, and the brooding look he gave her sent chills over her. The good kind. And maybe some of the bad kind too.

“I want you to stop having to look over your shoulder,” he said.

She couldn’t swallow. Couldn’t breathe.

“Me too.” But she’d been looking over her shoulder long before she’d had anything serious to worry about. Part of her job, she guessed.

She pulled her gaze from the intense exchange and turned her attention to the window.

Cole was right. And with that, he’d destroyed her peaceful haven.

With all the lights on in the small house, all she could see was darkness staring back from the windows that served as frames to nature during the daylight hours.

The downside to a home snuggled up against the forest—the darkness closed in faster.

And that had never bothered her...

Until now.