A Moment Of Panic
An alert on his phone woke Wyatt at four a.m. He’d installed the app that let him check in on any security cameras on the property. The app was sophisticated, and he’d chosen to have alerts for when the laser barriers at the driveway were crossed at night.
So far, he’d seen a few deer, a fox, and even a beaver dragging a branch. No humans. Still, he tensed as he pulled up the app.
His heart gave a heavy thump when he spotted a hooded figure entering the drive at the very edge of the screen.
He shoved on jeans and a hoodie, then slipped his feet into his moccasins. Not as sturdy as his boots, but faster.
He changed his phone to silent, then unlocked his gun case and loaded his weapon.
It took only seconds, but he cursed the wasted time as he hurried down the stairs and out the door.
It gave the perpetrator time to disappear.
Chances were good that the person had a plan, and Wyatt didn’t have a clue what it might be.
Would he try to gain access to the farmhouse or the inn?
Had he been surveilling them enough to know Esme had changed locations?
Was he trying to get photos, or trying to hurt her? Wyatt would assume the worst until he had proof. Maybe it was the asshole back looking for pictures.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. A quick check showed messages from Knox, Ford, Gray, and Seth.
All four lived in the farmhouse or the inn, and each had experienced trauma aimed at the women. Apparently, with the latest threat to Esme, they’d also turned on their security alerts.
With the inn full of guests, Wyatt doubted the mysterious man was heading that way. Knowing Seth and Gray would cover that building first, Wyatt moved to the corner of the farmhouse and watched the road, waiting for Knox and Ford, who appeared moments later.
Using hand signals they’d learned in the military, they spread out. Ford indicated he’d stay near the farmhouse and ensure no one entered it.
Wyatt and Knox moved into the garden. That was where the jerk had been before.
Did he know how often Esme ate her breakfast on the porch?
If he were a member of the paparazzi, he might be searching for a hidey-hole with a good angle of the porch.
Or Duckington Palace’s window if his intel was that good.
Wyatt didn’t know much about how paparazzi worked, but the creep might have bribed guests to give him information on Esme’s movements and patterns. If he were good, he could probably draw out information without revealing his job.
Anger rippled through Wyatt’s veins, but his training allowed him to control it, to keep his focus on catching the bastard.
Senses wide, he stepped into the garden, sticking to the path, but keeping close to its edge. Pushing through the foliage would cause noise and movement if anyone was alert. He also didn’t want to destroy any of Gray’s hard work unless it was necessary.
He didn’t hear his friends, but knew they would be spreading out.
One would check the area close to the inn, another would go through the woods to the road to search for a vehicle.
They would cover all the bases, but they’d leave the garden for him, as it was a likely choice for someone looking to sneak some photos.
Wyatt methodically cleared the paths while moving quickly. The best hiding spots would be near the porch, so he headed there.
He wished he had Boomer at his side, but Gray would have left him protecting Amber.
It was time to get a dog of his own. Seeing the group of dogs back at the greenhouse the other day made him want to offer Gomez a home.
The mutt had relaxed throughout the afternoon of work and seemed to like the other animals.
A bush rustled ahead, and Wyatt narrowed his focus. There wasn’t a breath of wind, so the leaves hadn’t moved on their own.
He moved steadily forward, but saw no other movement. The asshole hadn’t sensed him, probably thought he was perfectly safe.
The movement had been in a group of burning bushes nestled near three blue spruce trees. In the daytime, the bushes drew the eye with their deep fall colors. Tonight, they provided good cover for someone with an agenda.
Wyatt sounded a soft chickadee call. His team would recognize it not only as a human imitation, but as a sign he’d found something. Chickadees weren’t nocturnal, so using the call told them he’d found something out of place.
The leaves moved in reaction to his call, proving he’d found his quarry.
Hoping the jerk didn’t have training and that he’d identified Wyatt’s call as an actual bird, he remained still for a count of ten until the leaves moved again. The idiot had probably turned to spot the bird, then relaxed when he hadn’t seen anything move.
Wyatt gave it another ten count, then lowered into a crouch. He moved through the spruce branches, gun drawn.
A man shrieked and tried to scramble away even as he turned on a flashlight to see Wyatt. “Don’t shoot me. Don’t shoot me. I’m not a bird. I heard it though. It’s over there. Don’t shoot me.”
He tried to scoot backward, but his foot tangled in his camera bag and he bumped against a trunk. He dropped his flashlight, fell to the side, screeching at Wyatt not to shoot.
Wyatt considered it just to shut him up.
Holstering his weapon, Wyatt pulled out his phone and engaged the flashlight app. He shone it over the man and his belongings. A bag, a camera and multiple lenses and a small backpack, probably filled with snacks to get him through the night.
Idiot. Wyatt scanned the light over the man’s face, but didn’t keep it blinding him. Even without backup or a weapon, Wyatt wouldn’t have any challenges controlling him. The appearance of four more armed men would probably have him shitting himself.
A look confirmed the man’s identity. Tristan Downey. The man who’d been following Esme across the country, aiming for pictures and contact.
That would stop now.
Knowing his buddies would be closing in, Wyatt called out. “Secure.”
The man’s eyes widened. “What does that mean? Are you going to shoot me? You can’t just shoot me. I didn’t do anything.”
Wyatt knew the light illuminated enough of his face that Downey could see him. “You’ve done far too much, and you’re going to stop. The price for continuing is one you don’t want to pay.”
Downey put his hands in front of him as if that would stop either Wyatt or a bullet. “I didn’t do anything.”
The man didn’t see Gray arriving behind him. With his gun holstered, Claus hoisted the man to his feet by the collar of his jacket.
Tristan screamed loud enough to wake everyone in the inn. Gray shook him. “Shut that noise off, or I’ll shut it off for you.”
Seth spoke softly. “I’m letting my woman know what’s up. She’ll inform anyone who’s been disturbed by this jackass.”
Seth hadn’t used Mara’s name, not giving more information to the jerk, but his team knew it. With her baker’s hours, Mara was probably on her way to the kitchen to start making fritters and other goodies.
If any guests came down, she’d let them know there was nothing to worry about. Wyatt hoped the noise hadn’t woken Amber in her room on the third floor. The pregnant woman needed her sleep, and with the danger contained, there was no need to wake her or anyone else.
Gray hauled Downey onto the path. Knox had his flashlight app out, focused on Downey’s torso, giving them enough light to see by, and letting the man know he was surrounded.
While he and Gray had holstered their weapons, the other three held theirs openly.
Wyatt left Downey’s camera equipment and the other bag where they were.
Marcus would want the evidence in place.
Ford spoke. “Police are on their way.”
“I didn’t do anything. You can’t shoot me.”
None of them rolled their eyes, but Wyatt bet they all had to contain the impulse.
Using silence as a technique to get people to talk was another skill they’d learned in the army. It was effective with Downey.
“I didn’t do anything. There’s no need for the police. I’ll leave.”
Gray re-gripped the man’s shirt and three weapons were raised.
Downey whimpered. “Don’t shoot. I just wanted some pictures. It’s a nice place, and I wanted to take some pictures of the sunrise.”
Not a bad attempt at an explanation, especially when he didn’t mention Esme, just the sunrise.
Knox growled. “Hard to see the sun with the spruce trees at your back.”
Downey’s head swung around, as if looking for another plausible reason for being there.
“My camera’s in there. Just let me have my camera, and I’ll leave.”
“When we check the camera roll, I’ll bet there isn’t a single sunrise or sunset in sight. In fact, I’ll bet there are only photos of people. On top of that, there will be people who didn’t give you permission to take their pictures.”
“I can take pictures of public places. That’s not against the law.” Downey’s voice turned surly.
Knox angled his phone enough that Wyatt could see he was recording the conversation. Marcus would love the evidence.
From directly behind Downey, Claus growled. “This isn’t public property.”
“How was I supposed to know that? An honest mistake by a man wanting to take sunrise pictures. You’ve got no need to hold me here. Especially at gunpoint.”
Knox laughed; it wasn’t a happy sound. “We’ve got video of you sneaking onto private property. Trespassing at the very least, but I’m betting once we see your camera roll, the police will add stalking to the charges.”
Ford lowered his voice. “I think this asshole was about to break his way in through a window. Do a smash and grab.”
“I’m not a thief. I don’t steal things. You can’t prove that.”
Wyatt shrugged. “Trespassing on private property with a camera. Scouting around for ways to break in, taking pictures of things to steal. Hell, you might be working for someone who wants you to kidnap one of the people here.”
“I’m not a thief or a kidnapper. I just wanted to take some pictures. That’s not a crime.”
“The cruiser’s almost here. Let’s take this asshole to meet him. We’re not letting him set his foot inside.”