Chapter 1
CHAPTER ONE
Holly Wythe didn’t believe in fate, luck, or leaving things to chance. She trusted schedules, preparation, and always having an exit strategy. Those things had served her well for years.
Until today. And she was running out of time.
She tapped her fingers on the counter of Dulles Airport’s rental car office while the agent typed furiously on his laptop. Unfortunately, none of her exit strategies accounted for strangling a rental car agent. Murdering someone—especially a man who claimed he was trying to help—was still a felony.
At least it was in Boston. She could only assume Virginia had similar rules.
With a heavy sigh, she glanced at the agent’s name tag. Edmund. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. Not a good look. Not a great omen.
“I have a reservation.” She held up her phone with the reservation number and a weird QR code. She missed printing out information and storing it in her vintage Louis Vuitton A5, six-ring planner. But she’d left that behind in Boston, along with its matching purse and the rest of her previous life.
“Your reservation has been cancelled.”
“No, it hasn’t.” She kept her voice strong and steady without raising it. She’d save her “hospital voice” for later, in case she needed to make a fuss.
Edmund took her phone and squinted at the screen. “Let me check something. Although...” he began typing again, “we just rented our last car. It is the beginning of Memorial Day weekend, one of the busiest holidays in Washington, D.C.”
She prayed that wasn’t true and hoped Edmund was just trying to brush off the fact that the car rental company had screwed up her reservation.
She checked her watch again. It was almost noon and she still had a four—maybe five—hour drive to Milltown, a small village deep in the Shenandoah Mountains.
While she was an experienced city driver, she wasn’t sure how hard it would be to navigate the mountains and wanted to get there before dark.
Sunset in late May, in the mountains, was around 7:37 p.m. Give or take a few seconds.
Then there was the fact that she had to meet the real estate agent before eight p.m. if she wanted to have a place to sleep tonight.
“This is ridiculous.”
She turned toward the deep, male voice that came from the end of the counter. A tall man, with his back toward her and hip against the counter, pressed a cell phone to his ear. She looked at Edmund who was still searching for her reservation on his laptop, and then glanced at the tall man again.
He wore fitted, low slung jeans that hugged his backside.
Soft, worn areas highlighted muscles where most men had none.
His black T-shirt hugged a powerful upper body and showed off his huge biceps and tattooed forearms. His brown hair was cut short—but not too short.
His black duffel bag lay at his feet, and he held a set of rental car keys attached to an orange fob in his free hand.
“Don’t be a dick, Abe. Every day you sound more and more like Caleb.
I told you I can wait.” He looked up at the stained ceiling, as if irritated.
“It’s not a big deal.” Then he shook his head and shifted sideways so she could see his chiseled jaw covered with a day’s worth of beard.
Despite his scruffy face, someone had pressed creases into his T-shirt, and his black motorcycle boots weren’t just clean. They were polished to a high shine.
She licked her lips, hating the sudden worries about her lack of lip gloss and her messy hair she’d put into a high ponytail while on the airplane hours ago. She’d sworn off all men. For all time. Hence her pilgrimage to the center of Virginia’s famous mountain range without her beloved LV planner.
“Miss Wise?” Edmund cleared his throat, and she shifted her gaze back to the short, slim agent who couldn’t be more than twenty-two. “I’m sorry—”
“It’s Wythe. Not Wise. Please don’t tell me you don’t have my reservation.”
“Actually, we do.” He wrinkled his nose and pointed at his computer, as if it was some kind of offending creature who’d ruined his day. “But we don’t have any more cars to rent since most of them haven’t been returned yet.”
“Wait.” She shook her head to refocus her mind away from the handsome man a few feet away and back to her current problem. “How can you make a reservation, weeks ago, and not have a car ready?”
He began to describe the convoluted issues of the car rental industry, including people not returning their cars on time, especially during holiday weekends.
His short dissertation also included a lecture on insurance, road construction, and traffic due to the Rolling to Remember motorcycle riders coming into town.
“I don’t care, Abe—” the man at the end of the counter raised his voice. “I’d rather wait... fine. Whatever.” He muttered a curse that would make her blush if she wasn’t pretending not to eavesdrop. “I’ll see you in Kingsmill.”
“Miss Wythe,” Edmund continued, oblivious to the fact she’d tuned out for a moment. “Rolling to Remember, formerly Rolling Thunder, changed the time of their blessing of the bikes. It’s now at 2 p.m. instead of five p.m. due to a threat of thunderstorms.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with this situation.
” She glanced behind her, not seeing any other renters, and then met Edmund’s gaze.
“Do you have any idea when a car will be returned? Can’t you track them?
” Surely these cars were programmed with GPS tracking.
Although she drove a 2012 Honda Accord, she was aware that newer cars were loaded with navigational gizmos. “I’m willing to wait.”
“I have no way of tracking the missing cars.” Edmund shut his laptop. “I’m sorry. I’m going to return to the office now since there’s no one else in line and I have no idea when the cars will show up.”
“How am I supposed to get to Milltown?” She pointed to the pad on the counter of pull-off tourist maps of Virginia. “Is there public transportation into the mountains?”
“No. Especially with your oversized luggage.” Edmund held his laptop against his chest, as if shielding himself from potential attack and looked at her large pink suitcase.
“But you could ask that client.” He motioned to the handsome man who was shoving his phone into his back pocket and picking up his duffel.
“He’s heading to Kingsmill, the town next to Milltown.
He might know another way of getting there. ”
Before she could respond, Edmund scurried through a doorway behind him and shut the door.
She adjusted her purse straps on her shoulder. What was she going to do now?
She gripped the handle of her rolling suitcase—which was oversized for a very good reason—and glanced toward the tall man again, except he wasn’t there. He was half-way out the door leading to the parking lot. “Wait!”
She wasn’t an impulsive person, preferring to mull over her choices before deciding. But this was an emergency.
“Sir?” With her bag rolling behind her, and her new handbag’s straps falling off her shoulder, she hurried after the man—until she ran into the glass door. It’d closed just as she’d reached it. “Ow!”
She rubbed her aching nose and watched the man walk toward the left side of the empty parking lot, near the gas station.
She opened the door, and a wall of heat and humidity slammed into her. Holy cannoli, it was hot. “Sir!”
She lost a minute trying to maneuver her suitcase through the door.
Then, as she crossed the road, her roller bag got caught on gravel, fell in front of her.
She tripped over it, and her handbag dropped onto the road, spilling contents everywhere.
Her knees hurt, despite the fact she wore jeans.
Her scraped palms stung, and it took her a long, dazed moment to sit on her now-sideways suitcase.
Of course the man was walking further and further away.
A car came around the corner, heading way too fast toward the exit, and slammed on its brakes. The brakes’ high-pitched squeal made her ears ring. Luckily, the car stopped two feet away from her, and the woman behind the wheel hit the horn multiple times.
Holly considered many options, including some interesting hand signals she’d learned while driving through Boston.
Instead, she collected her things, including her hairbrush and small first aid kit.
When the horn honked again, she ignored the driver, searched for her lip gloss, and noticed a tampon in a purple wrapper rolling away.
There was plenty of room for the driver to go around her, but instead she hit the horn. Again.
Still on her hands and knees, Holly tossed the rest of her belongings into her purse and searched for her tampon—until she saw it tucked neatly beneath a man’s shiny black boot.
Slowly, she raised her head and met the handsome man’s gaze. Her cheeks felt hot and tears pricked her eyes. She wasn’t crying, just embarrassed and overwhelmed.
It’d been a long, hard six months culminating in this moment where she had no dignity and no way to get to where she needed to be.
The car honked again, and the man motioned for the driver to go around them. The car inched with exaggerated slowness until it passed them. Then the driver hit the gas and roared toward the exit.
“I promise,” the man said in a voice edged with a subtle southern accent that reminded her of her grandpa. “Most people in Virginia are more respectful.” He glanced toward where the racing car had exited the gated yard. “Then again, she’s probably a tourist. Or a D.C. politician.”
Holly brushed the dirt off her jeans and wiped her hands on her thighs until she winced. She’d forgotten her scraped hands.
The man picked up her purple tampon and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” She dropped it into her purse. She didn’t see anything else on the ground, but she was also too flustered and too hot to look. Instead, she cleared her throat and said, “I appreciate your help.”
“I heard the screeching brakes. Saw you on the ground. And ran over.” He picked up her heavy pink suitcase and set it on its wheels. It was so tall, it reached her waist, effectively forming a wall between them. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just glad that car didn’t hit me.” She adjusted her purse on her shoulder and flexed her aching hands. They hurt, but she didn’t want to focus on that.
He frowned and took one of her hands to inspect her palm. “You need to wash these scrapes. There may be gravel embedded.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.” She released a deep breath and met his brown gaze. “Actually, I fell because I was running after you.”
He crossed his arms over his wide chest and smiled wide. “Tell me more.”
Between the laughter in his eyes and the grin that crinkled the hard angles of his face, she knew he was teasing her. But she didn’t mind. Teasing was good. It meant he was in a good mood and might grant her request. “I know this might sound strange, but I want to buy your rental car from you.”
He tilted his head, watching her the entire time, and his smile became more neutral. “Why would you want to do that?”
“The car I rented hasn’t been returned yet, and I need to get to Milltown tonight.
I’m required to be there by eight p.m., at the latest.” She dropped her purse on top of her suitcase and rummaged through it.
Because so much had gotten jostled, everything was out of place.
She hated when things were out of place.
“I can use one of those money apps on my phone to pay you… wait… where is my phone?”
The man watched her, his eyes glinting in the sunshine, while she rummaged through her belongings.
“It has to be here somewhere.” She took out her brush, her makeup bag, a packet of tissues, and her first aid kit. “Would you hold these?”
Before he said yes, she pressed them against his chest so he had no choice but to collect them all.
“My wallet is part of my phone case.” She took out the purple tampon and her cherry lip gloss, holding one in each hand, and met his gaze. He stared at her quizzically, as if waiting for her to start dancing in the street.
He was laughing at her.
“I have money.” She added her lip gloss and tampon to the pile of things in his arms.
“Okay.” His face would make the stoics proud. “I believe you.”
She shook her purse when she remembered something. Her breaths shortened, her heart rate ratcheted up, and her mouth went dry. All signs of an incoming panic attack. “Oh, no.” She threw her purse onto her suitcase and said, “I’ll only be a minute.”
Before he could respond, she limped back to the rental office. Her banged up knees protested and her thighs felt stiff. Probably from both the trauma of falling and the adrenaline rush from almost becoming roadkill.
Once at the door, she grabbed the handle.
It was locked. She peered through the window, a difficult feat considering Edmund had turned off the lights and the glare from the bright sunshine blinded her.
The moment her eyes adjusted, she saw her cell phone—with its attached wallet case—laying on the counter.
She banged on the door, but Edmund was nowhere to be found.
Angry, annoyed, and cursing the sweat that beaded between her breasts, she turned around and leaned against the door. What was she going to do now?
That’s when she noticed the tall, handsome man on the other side of the road, near the empty parking lot. He stood there with his black duffel at his feet, still holding her things. Even from this distance, she could see the bright purple tampon and cherry lip gloss on top.
Despite the distance, even with the sun blinding her, she’d bet her last stick of gum that he was smiling.