Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
H oly shit. Someone was looking for her. How the hell was this even possible?
Panic bubbled in her chest, and she tried to tamp it down. Dammit. No luck. Her lungs burned, and her heart pounded painfully hard.
“Breathe, Scar.”
Not realizing she’d been holding her breath, Scarlet exhaled and slammed her eyes shut. Her mind whirled, but she concentrated on Matt’s soothing voice. It was almost as comforting as his touch. Part of her brain recognized that she was cocooned in his arms, practically glued against his chest. That while he had one hand soothing along her back, his other arm was draped over her lap, his large hand clutching the outside of her thigh.
On any other day, butterflies would have taken flight in her belly.
But it wasn’t any other day. No. It was a day that had started so promising and taken a terrifying turn.
One thing at a time. She needed the facts. Because none of this made sense. “Can you tell me what you know?”
He relayed the information he’d witnessed firsthand, along with what he’d been told by Martha. Including the description of the photo.
Scarlet’s stomach rolled. Bleached-blond hair, leather, and denim? A gussied-up teenage wannabe biker chick? That described the old her to a T .
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Matt, I don’t?—”
A knock at the door made her flinch, and again, Matt’s hand was there, moving along her back in soothing circles. The door opened, and Martha entered, followed by Gavin.
The older woman crossed the room to the couch, bent down, and wrapped Scarlet in a hug.
Her throat clenched tight and her nose tingled as she returned the embrace, taking in the comforting lemon scent that always lingered on the older woman, no matter how many hours she spent at the diner. If Poppy was the sister Scarlet had never had, then Martha was her mother, favorite aunt, and grandmother all rolled into one.
“Oh, sweet girl,” Martha murmured, kissing her forehead. “You take the rest of the day off, okay?” Before Scarlet could protest, Martha rushed on, “Naomi’s coming in to cover your shift.”
“Are you sure?”
Martha nodded, then cupped her face in her hands. “I know what you’ve told me, sweetie. You need to figure out what’s going on, because I love you like my own and nothing is going to happen to you. You hear me, missy?”
Warmth filled her chest as she nodded.
Martha was her greatest ally. Because of the circumstances of her arrival on Hudson, Scarlet had shared what she could with the older woman. It had only been fair that she and Ray knew what they were getting themselves into. Not only had Martha stuck by her side, but she’d showered her and Daisy with so much love and support—something Scarlet had never had. And though Martha was an enthusiastic member of the gossip train, she had been a vault with Scarlet’s secrets. And Scarlet would be forever grateful for that.
“Now, you take as long as you need. Don’t you worry about work. We’ll cover you.” Martha placed one hand on Matt’s shoulder and her other on Gavin’s arm. “Your job is to let these boys do what they do. They’ll figure out who that man was and what he wants.”
“Thank you, Martha,” she said, voice hoarse with emotion.
“Of course, sweet girl. Taking care of my family is what I do.”
Standing, Scarlet hugged Martha once more and squeezed. There was no stopping the tears from pouring down her face this time. “You’re my family, too,” she whispered.
Martha pulled away and wiped her eyes, then turned to Matt and Gavin. “You boys take care of my girl.” She pinned Matt with a look as he rose from the couch. “And you. Nothing happens to my girl. You hear me?”
Matt wrapped an arm around Scarlet’s shoulders and pulled her into his side. “Yes, ma’am.”
A short drive later, Scarlet followed Matt into a large conference room at the Hudson Security office. She’d never been inside the building and had to admit she was one thousand percent intimidated. There were screens and gadgets everywhere, and she didn’t have the first clue as to what any of them did.
“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” Matt asked, pulling out a chair for her at the end of a long conference table.
Settling into the surprisingly comfortable chair, she shook her head. “I’m good, thanks.”
She was probably as far from good as anyone could get. The mystery stranger from the diner had fear and worry spiking through every single one of her nerves. The only consolation she had was the knowledge that her daughter was safe. Gavin had told her he’d sent one of his Hudson Security team members, Xander, over to Rebecca’s to keep an eye on Daisy. Just in case.
Nausea turned her stomach.
She hoped Gavin was just being exceptionally cautious. Because if he truly believed Daisy was in trouble? Believed the stranger looking for her was also looking for her daughter? Holy shit, that was terrifying...
“Scar?”
She startled at her name and looked up. It wasn’t her and Matt alone in the room anymore. He sat to her right and Gavin to her left. Next to Gavin was a petite brunette with an open laptop in front of her. The woman’s fingers flew over the keyboard, and she kept glancing back and forth between her computer and the giant monitor-looking thing on the wall that had numbers and images flickering on it.
Scarlet had no idea what the other woman was doing or what any of the information on the big screen was. All she knew was that the other woman was totally getting added to her ever-growing things-to-be-intimidated-by list, despite looking perfectly nice.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses, B,” Matt said.
“I don’t,” the woman replied, pushing her glasses up by the bridge. Her attention never wavered from the screen in front of her. “They give me a headache. Unfortunately, an eye infection left me no choice but to break out the nerd frames.”
The corners of Scarlet’s lips lifted. Nerd? Right. The woman was projecting some serious Felicity Smoak vibes, only with brown hair. From her fancy blouse and blazer to the dark-rimmed glasses, nerd was the last thing Scarlet would call this woman.
Suddenly, the woman’s bright-blue eyes were staring at her, and Scarlet swallowed hard. “Hi, I’m Bean. I handle the tech stuff around here.”
Gavin snorted. “Tech stuff? That’s what you’re calling it now?”
Bean rolled her eyes at Gavin, then peered back at Scarlet. The intensity of the woman’s stare was... a lot.
A warm hand enveloped hers, and she looked at Matt. His brown gaze was steady as he squeezed her hand. Taking strength from his presence, she relaxed her shoulders.
“As I mentioned at the diner,” Gavin began, “Xander is one of our PSOs and?—”
“A PS-what?” Scarlet asked.
“Personal security officer. He’s good with kids and is actually familiar with Rebecca’s place.” She must have shown her confusion, because Gavin clarified, “When all that shit went down a few months ago with Cade, Dante, and their gyms, Xander was in charge of Rebecca’s protection. He stayed with her while she was working. Xander just checked in and said everything’s good over there.”
A weight lifted from Scarlet. Everything’s good. Daisy is okay.
“As you know,” Gavin continued, “Martha has security cameras around the diner. She gave us access to them. Bean?”
“This is the guy looking for you,” Bean said, gesturing to the screen on the wall. “Unfortunately, there’s no audio.”
A number of low-quality black-and-white videos appeared on the big screen. The man talking with Paula. Eating. Speaking with Martha. But it was the video of him outside the diner, climbing onto his motorcycle, that had Scarlet’s breath catching in her lungs.
Lots of people ride motorcycles, dammit. It’s just a coincidence. Hell, there’s a whole motorcycle retreat going on! A shiver racked her frame. But that damn photo...
“I have my facial rec program running. So far, no hits.” Bean grimaced. “The video quality is shit, though, so even if the guy is in the system, it’ll be nearly impossible to get a match. The good news is that I picked him up on the ferry cameras. He has his helmet on, but both the bike and his arm tattoos are a match. He left Hudson on the last ferry that went out and just made it to the Coupeville dock. The guys said Martha told him there are a bunch of diners on Whidbey he should check out. Hopefully, that’ll keep him occupied for a while. Regardless, I pulled his license plate number?—”
“Were you able to get a name?” Matt interrupted.
Bean shook her head. “The person the bike’s registered to doesn’t match this guy’s physical description—like, at all—but I have another program digging into that. There are a number of cameras on Whidbey, so I can track the bike there. I’ll also get a notification if he drives onto any Washington State ferry—whether it’s heading to Hudson or not—or if his motorcycle plates cross Deception Pass to the mainland.”
“His mistake was coming to the islands,” Gavin said. “Unless he’s traveling by private boat, we can track all the ways out.”
Bean cleared her throat—loudly.
“ Bean can track all the ways off the islands,” Gavin corrected, rolling his eyes.
The woman flashed a smug grin. “Long story short, Scarlet? If this guy comes back, we’ll know. Anyway, if I get a ping off facial rec, I’ll contact everyone. In the meantime, this is as clear a pic as I could get.”
An image from the diner’s security footage appeared on the screen. The man sat at his table and seemed to look directly into the camera.
Scarlet frowned.
“I know,” Bean said on a sigh, leaning back in her chair. “The quality is shit. Hell, Martha’s security cameras are shit. But that’s the best I can enhance it.”
The photo wasn’t enhanced all that much. It was still super grainy. You could tell the guy had a light-colored buzz cut and was clean-shaven, but that wasn’t anything she hadn’t already been told.
“Does he look familiar?” Matt asked.
She continued studying the man, then shook her head. “No.” He truly didn’t. There was maybe something vaguely familiar about him, but honestly, he just looked like every biker she’d ever known. An average guy with that rough-around-the-edges bit. Even in the still images from the security camera, he projected that wannabe-tough-guy persona. Yes, some of the biker men she’d known were legitimately tough and scary. But this guy? Nope.
What could he possibly want with her?
Scarlet released Matt’s hand, leaned forward, and propped her elbows on the table. “None of this makes any sense,” she muttered, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “My handler said?—”
She froze.
Holy. Shit.
She had not just said that out loud. But the complete silence in the room told her otherwise.
Peeking out at the table, she glanced from Matt to Gavin to Bean, then back to Matt. The men looked at her intently; Bean’s head cocked to the side, her eyebrows pulling high in surprise.
Scarlet’s insides began to tremble. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Fuck.
“What about your handler?” Gavin asked, voice calm and controlled, soothing even. But Scarlet knew that was bullshit. He was like a shark who’d just scented blood in the water.
Sitting back in her seat, she fisted her hands in her lap. Her nails dug crescents into her palms. Not knowing where to look, she studied the table. “Um...”
In her peripheral vision, she noticed Matt reaching over. Her gaze shot to him when he pulled her chair closer to his. Without saying a word, he took her fisted hands and pried them open. Ran his thumbs over the grooves made by her nails.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” he murmured, attention fixed on her palms.
Some of her tension eased at his touch. When she met his eyes, she let out another breath.
He squeezed her hands. “We can’t help you unless you tell us what’s going on. And, Scar, I will do everything I can to keep you and Daisy safe.”
Her heart warmed, and she laced her fingers with his, holding on tight. He included Daisy.
A flush heated her cheeks as she realized what she’d done. “I’m sorry,” she said, attempting to pull away.
But Matt held on. He gave her a slight nod, his gaze never leaving hers, as he prodded, “Your handler?”
For a moment, she could only stare at him. Then she focused on their connected hands. What was she doing? Hell, was she even allowed to talk about this? Fuck it. “I don’t know where to begin.”
His hand was gentle as he tipped her chin up. The small gesture brought tears to her eyes, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. No man had ever treated her this tenderly.
“Start at the beginning, Scar,” he murmured.
Nope. No way did Matt need to know her background. She loved how he talked to her, looked at her. Like she was a regular person, someone he found interesting. If he ever knew about her past, about who— what —she’d been, that would all change.
But the recent past would be okay, right? After all, she’d already screwed up by letting the handler part slip.
The fingers beneath her chin slid along her jaw until they cradled the side of her face. She gulped, and her racing pulse had little to do with the topic at hand.
“It’s just us, sweetheart. You can tell me.”
She glanced at Gavin and Bean—but they weren’t there. Surprise had her mouth falling open. When had they left the room?
“So long as it doesn’t put your safety or Daisy’s at risk,” Matt said, “I promise that I’ll only share with Gavin and the team what you want me to. Trust me.”
She did. More than she should.
Scarlet sucked in a deep breath for bravery. And as she let it out, she prayed this man was true to his word. “When I lived in South Dakota, I was the sole witness to a triple murder.”