Chapter 19
Trent was sitting in Jess’s office with Brayden Leggett, another protector assigned to the situation. The three of them were reviewing his most recent footage from the drone flights. “I can’t pin him down,” he complained, frustrated with his lack of progress.
“Maybe he really has escaped to let things cool down,” Brayden said.
“It’s a fair theory,” Jess agreed. “We haven’t found any evidence of a campsite near the locations you’ve indicated.” She sat back in her chair, pen tapping against the armrest. “But every action he takes proves he’s not one to leave loose ends.”
No one had to say it aloud. He’d heard Royer’s concern about Natalie identifying him. She was definitely a loose end.
“I’m sure he’s squatting on that construction site,” Trent leaned back in his chair. “Something pulls him back there.”
“The Hideaway.”
Trent didn’t argue with Jess, and though it was the last thing he wanted to hear, he couldn’t ignore the possibility.
Brayden pushed to his feet, as restless as Trent felt. “Can we take another run at Corey?”
“To what end?” she asked. “Until we figure out Royer’s hold on him—” Her desk phone rang, cutting her off. A second later, both Trent and Brayden’s phones started buzzing too.
Seeing the caller ID from Boone Reynolds, his skin iced over. The man had been posted to keep an eye on Natalie while Trent and Brayden were in this meeting. “You’re on speaker,” he answered.
“Royer took Natalie,” he said, voice firm and flat. “No one saw him arrive, but he dragged her off the dock and into the water. Lucky for us, that drew some good attention.”
“Into the water and then where?”
“They didn’t surface,” Boone said. “We’re piecing it together now and looking for the trail.”
“In the water.”
“Corey was there. Told us Royer came to the marina on a jet ski earlier today. He’d been in the shop making calls and plans.”
Trent swore.
An incoming text cut off his tirade and swiping to open it, he swore again. The image of Natalie slumped in a corner, eyes closed, broke his heart. Soaking wet, her dress was plastered to her skin and her sodden hair dripped over her face and shoulders. The message was worse:
I’ll send her back when the case is dropped.
He was the problem. Royer had stuck around Brookwell, looking for a way to force Trent’s hand.
This was about getting him to stand down.
Well, points to Royer for finding the one thing that brought him to his knees.
“Someone’s been watching me too damn closely,” he muttered.
How could he have missed that? Observation was the key to everything in this job.
“How?” Jess asked. “You’re isolated at the Hideaway. That’s why we put you there.”
“Not exactly. It’s a private beach, but that construction site next door is a hive of activity,” he reminded her. Everything that had been a minor inconvenience suddenly became a looming threat. “Royer was definitely there more than just the night I overheard him with Corey.”
“More than one accomplice,” Boone said. “I can push Corey on that.”
Trent didn’t like where this was leading. “The boat seizure wasn’t an error or lapse.” He should’ve recognized the signs earlier. “He was disposing of that crew. Probably with plans to upgrade personnel.”
“I’m betting the kayak’s been a distraction ever since Natalie caught sight of him,” Brayden said. “He’s got you focused on that while he’s putting other pieces in place.”
“You’re right.” Trent wanted to roar with the unfairness of it all. “I messed up and Natalie could pay the price.”
“No,” Jess snapped. “We’re thinking positively here. You’ve done everything according to the intel we had. Royer grabbed a momentary advantage, fine. But this move tells me he’s desperate. And desperate men make mistakes.”
He couldn’t let Natalie take the brunt of that kind of mistake. “I need to find her,” he said, his voice raw.
“Go on,” Jess said. “Brayden and I will consult with Connor. Boone will take another run at Corey. We’ll find the trail,” she vowed.
He bolted from the office and raced across the island to the marina. Even braced for chaos, taking in the scene threw him off balance. Police Chief Caldwell had arrived. He and Boone had Corey isolated from the rest of the action.
Trent wanted his own view of the scene and stalked through the crowd, down to the dock. Boone must’ve warned the chief of Trent’s impending arrival because no one got in his way. He saw that red kayak at the end of the dock and clenched his fists.
Logically, he knew it wasn’t all his fault, but emotionally… Well, he shoved that down deep. There would be time to deal with all of that once Natalie was back, safe and whole. Right now, she needed him cold. Focused. A hunter dialed in on his prey.
He refused to let any bad outcome take root in his mind.
Natalie was vibrant, wonderful, and the world needed her and the artwork she created. She had barely scratched the surface of her talent. He wouldn’t let her get snuffed out.
As he marched along the dock, he studied the line of sailing school boats and thought about the good stuff.
Every minute they’d shared was its own light. Her smile as she served him warm cookies. That first kiss at sunset on the boardwalk over the marsh at Parker’s. The campfire that got rained out. Indoor s’mores. That first night in his bed. The shower this morning.
If any harm came to her, it was on his shoulders.
He had brought this to her family home. There was no doubt about what this place meant to her—personally and professionally. Her love and passion showed in her eyes every time she talked about this place. Brookwell was her foundation, the place she’d felt safe enough to become her truest self.
He would not let Royer wreck that for her.