Chapter 18
We didn”t find him. In the end, I wasn’t surprised. We”d followed his trail back to the creek bed where I lost him. It took hours of searching to locate the place where his tracks reappeared. He was clever, leaving few signs of his passage aside from scuffed bark and fallen leaves.
The bastard had picked his way down the creek, his steps partly camouflaged by the still lightly falling snow. A half mile from where he entered the creek, he’d made a vertical jump and grabbed onto an overhanging branch thick enough to hold his weight. He must have gone hand over hand down the branch to the trunk where he’d climbed the fucking tree until he found a spot where it overlapped with another. He’d jumped from branch to branch and continued like a motherfucking monkey until he dropped back down into the snow hundreds of yards away.
This was no local boy with a grudge. This guy was something else.
The sun was almost to the ridgeline, dusk on its way, by the time we tracked his path down the mountain to an old fire road that led back to the state highway. He was long gone. One of my team came around to pick us up, saving the time it would take to hike back up the mountain.
We spent the rest of our daylight adding to the security around Heartstone Manor. Savannah and Finn”s cottage already had a tight perimeter thanks to the troubles she”d had with her mother-in-law. We added a few more cameras and a second perimeter alarm surrounding the first, just in case.
The Manor itself had high security, but even there we added more cameras, inside and out, along with a wider perimeter to secure the surrounding area, covering my gatehouse and the clearing in the woods where I knew Quinn slept, along with the pool and pool house, neither of which were in use this time of year.
I watched the sun set from the control room in the lower level of the Manor, checking and double-checking every camera view. Anywhere family or staff might go, we had eyes. If anything bigger than a rabbit approached the Manor, we’d know.
Even with all that, I didn’t feel like it was enough.
If this was any other client, I would have tucked myself into bed, satisfied with a job well done. But this wasn’t a client. This was Griffen’s family. And it was so much more. I couldn’t stop seeing Quinn pinned on the snowy ground, fighting for her life. Couldn’t forget her blank face as I’d handed her to Griffen.
No one was going to get to her. Not again.
By the time we finished, the sun had long since set and I was exhausted. We’d done everything we could think of to tighten security. I”d run the plans by Griffen. Consulted with the Sinclairs. We all agreed that we’d done the best we could. And still, as I trudged up the steps to the main level, something nagged at me. This guy—he would come for Quinn, I was sure of it. Given his obvious skill level, I knew I was dealing with someone with my kind of training. He wasn’t going to give up. I wouldn’t have. You didn’t leave a job unfinished.
The house was quiet, dinner long since over. I texted Griffen.
We”re done. Got a minute?
In my office. You eaten?
I”m good.
Savannah had delivered a rolling cart stacked with covered dishes to the control room sometime around dinner, her gray eyes worried. “Let me know if you need anything,” she’d said and disappeared back down the hall.
Savannah was worried. I was worried. Griffen was worried. We were all worried.
I walked into Griffen”s office to find him already there, sitting behind his desk, the fire blazing, a steaming cup of tea beside his open laptop. Maybe reading my expression, he didn”t say anything.
After years of working together, I didn’t bother with a preamble. “I don”t get it,” I said. “Why Quinn?”
Griffen shook his head. He shoved his chair back from his desk and strode to the sideboard. “Drink?” he asked.
I started to shake my head, then changed my mind. “A small one.”
Griffen poured a splash of golden liquid into matching cut crystal glasses. Handing me my drink, he sat on the sofa by the fireplace. I sat on the sofa opposite, lifting the glass to hover beneath my nose. Whiskey. I took a sip. More of a burn than the bourbon I’d shared with Quinn. I preferred the bourbon, but tonight I needed that bite.
Griffen sat back, shaking his head again. “My best guess is that it has to do with our father’s murder and whoever’s been coming after us since. Nothing else makes sense.”
I tended to agree, but it didn’t totally track logically. Why Quinn? Of all the siblings, she was the most removed from Prentice. But then again, she was a Sawyer. And these days being a Sawyer seemed to include a target on her back.
“I didn’t come across anything in her past to explain this,” I said.
Sinclair Security had done background checks on everyone in Griffen’s family when he’d moved home, even before he’d asked for them. At his request, we’d gone deeper. Nothing we found pointed to anyone having an issue with Quinn. No conflicts, no debts, no lovers” quarrels. Nothing that would explain the man who’d tried to take her from the trail.
“I don’t think it’s about Quinn. I think she’s just the next target on the list.” Griffen sipped his whiskey. “Or there’s something else going on that we haven’t figured out yet.” His expression twisted as that possibility sank in.
I didn’t like it any better than he did. “How was she at dinner?” I asked, haunted by the memory of Quinn’s bleak voice. You don’t know. She was right. I didn’t know anything. Definitely not how Quinn could bounce back from being attacked in the woods, but completely shut down at the prospect of staying in her family home.
“She was quiet.” Griffen stared into his whiskey before taking another sip. “I tried to get her to talk about it, but she closed me out. Sterling got the same.”
“Where is she now?” Instinct told me she wasn’t asleep in her room. Not with the way she’d reacted to staying in the Manor.
At first, thrown by the way she’d taken my ending things in stride, I hadn’t fully grasped what was happening. Once my bruised ego got out of the way, I saw the whole thing with different eyes. Quinn, who was capable in so many ways, slept in the woods every night. I’d chalked it up to her being an avid outdoorswoman who preferred to be in the woods. Now I knew it was more than that.
Quinn loved sleeping in the woods, but I hadn’t realized she had to sleep in the woods. And I didn’t know why.
“She’s in the sunroom,” Griffen said. “She pretended to go to sleep in her rooms but came down the back stairs not long after and went to the sunroom.”
“It”s too cold in there,” I murmured. “Too exposed.”
The sunroom was down the hall from Griffen’s office, by the family gathering room. It was almost all windows, facing the woods where Quinn usually slept. Cut off from the central heating system, the sunroom wasn’t used this time of year. It was as close to the outdoors as you could get while still being inside the Manor.
“She must be freezing,” I said.
“She has a sleeping bag.”
Of course she did. “Why—” I started, cutting off my question at Griffen”s shaking head.
“I don”t know,” he said. “As far as I can tell, no one knows.”
“And you haven”t asked.”
Griffen let out a long sigh and sipped the whiskey, grimacing as he swallowed. “I did ask. Once, a few months after we all came back. She said she didn”t like sleeping indoors, tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. She avoided me for weeks after. I decided that whatever it was, it wasn’t worth driving Quinn away by pushing too hard, so I let it go.”
“Do you think this guy who attacked her has anything to do with why she won’t sleep in the Manor?” The idea was so farfetched I shook my head at my own question.
If someone had done something to Quinn in the Manor since her father died, we’d know about it. It also begged the question of why now. She hadn’t lived in the Manor since she’d gone to college. That was ten years ago. Why come back now? It didn’t make sense.
“My gut reaction is to say this doesn’t have anything to do with the past,” Griffen said. “But at this point, I”m not ruling anything out.”
“Agreed,” I said, staring at the whiskey in my glass before taking another sip. “We tracked the guy all the way back to the state road, and it feels like we know less than when we started. If this is the next move from whoever’s been after your family, they upgraded. This guy?” I shook my head. “This guy is good.”
I walked Griffen through the details of the attack on the trail, the footprints under the bedroom window at the cabin, and the process of tracking the attacker back to the fire road. When I was finished, he took me back through it, asking questions until he was almost as up-to-date as if he’d been there with us. The whole process reminded me of our years working together, of all the reasons why I was glad to be here, having his back and keeping his family safe. And of all the reasons I never should have touched Quinn.
“He’s not a local, then,” Griffen said.
“Not unless there”s a local with real skills.”
“I don’t—” Griffen began, then stopped and shook his head. “The truth is, I was away from Sawyers Bend for so long I don”t know the locals anymore. And we have a lot of open land here. Enough to disappear in. It”s possible he’s local,” he admitted. “Anything”s possible.”
“Quinn needs a dog,” I said. The idea had been poking at me all day. She wasn’t going to be easy to protect. Not long-term, once her ankle healed and tourist season cranked up. I doubted she’d tolerate full-time security, and I needed to keep my distance, for both our sakes. A guard dog wouldn’t be the same as a human guard, but it was a lot better than nothing.
Griffen’s eyes lit. “She’d love that. What are you thinking?”
“You remember Remy?” I asked. We’d worked with Remy a few times on behalf of clients at Sinclair Security. He trained guard dogs, and he and his dogs were some of the best out there.
“You’re thinking a Belgian Malinois?”
I nodded. “They’re active, but she needs a dog who can handle the trail as well as she can. They make great guard dogs. Strong, smart, hard-working, and loyal.”
“You call him yet?” Griffen asked, staring into the flames, suddenly absorbed in thought.
Even though I imagined Quinn was going to be pissed at me for both making decisions behind her back and not talking to her first about this, I had indeed called Remy. “A few hours ago. Said he has an adolescent, almost fully trained. This one was meant for a family, so she’s used to kids. I did him a favor a while ago, a big one, so he’s willing to talk the client into waiting and send her to Quinn. I just have to talk to Quinn about it.”
“Don’t bother,” Griffen said. “Tell Remy we’ll take the dog. If Quinn refuses, we’ll figure out something she can live with, and the dog can move in here.”
“A dog?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just have a baby? And now you want to add a dog to the mix?”
Griffen shrugged, looking a little sheepish. “I always wanted a dog. Prentice refused to let them in the house. Now that Parker and Sterling have the cat, the boys have been asking for a dog. Given everything else that’s been going on, I’d prefer to get one that will keep them safe, along with giving them company. If Quinn agrees to Remy’s dog, maybe I’ll talk to him about a puppy.”
“I’ll see what he thinks when I call him tomorrow.” I knocked back the rest of my whiskey and stood. “Nobody is getting anywhere near the Manor without being seen. We adjusted the team”s surveillance schedule so everyone stays sharp. If this guy comes back, we’ll have him.”
“Thanks, Hawk.” Griffen smiled at me.
“Anytime, man. You know that,” I said.
“I do.” He stood, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “If it was anyone else, I’d probably be up all night pacing and checking the cameras. It makes all the difference to have you here. I owe you.”
“No, you don’t,” I said. “If anything, it’s me who owes you.” I’d never forget the way Griffen and the Sinclairs had saved me. I’d had enough strength to turn my back on my past but no clue where to go. They’d given me a job. Friendship. A home. A reason to keep living. I’d never be able to pay them back.
Griffen shook his head, a half smile tilting the side of his mouth. “You don’t owe me anything. As far as I’m concerned, we’re family.” He set his glass on the sideboard and picked up a small black remote, clicking off the fire. “Get some rest. You’ve had a long few days.”
“After I check on Quinn,” I said, not meeting his eyes. I still hadn’t processed the fact that I”d had sex with his baby sister.
On her own, Quinn was Quinn, an independent, adult woman who could make her own choices. But in this room, facing my friend who was as good as a brother, I couldn’t avoid what I”d done. He was thanking me for being here when I’d betrayed his trust.
I wouldn’t take it back. I”d never give up a second of the time I’d spent with Quinn, but that didn’t make it right. If he knew, he’d probably kill me.
“Thanks for keeping her safe,” he said, sending a stab of guilt into my chest.
I nodded and followed him into the hall, watching as he jogged up to the rooms at the top of the stairs where Hope and their daughter waited. He’d never had as much to risk as he did now. And he was trusting all of it to me. His wife and daughter, his family, his home.
I wouldn’t let him down.