Chapter 4
Brayden stood on the Hideaway deck, watching the sun rise over Brookwell Island like a slow-burning ember, chasing away a thin early fog but doing nothing to clear the heavy, oppressive tension hanging over the Hideaway.
Last night played through his head again, particularly his mistake in letting the jerk with the water shut-off key escape. Overnight, the research team had scoured Charleston for the car, but the trail was cold.
Brayden wasn’t sure it mattered. Gut instinct told him the guy tampering with the water main was a worker bee, nothing more. Probably part of the construction crew willing to pull the stunt for some extra cash. Most likely, after the close call, he wouldn’t be back.
No, whoever had been lurking in the trees with those zip ties was the more immediate threat. With luck, one of the new trail cameras would catch him creeping back into place and Brayden could drag that jerk to the police.
Pieces of this puzzle made zero sense. He’d gone through all the intel.
Indigo Reef had snapped up the property next door and should’ve been happy when the town approved their plan to build three luxury condos on the lot.
Instead, they’d been dogging the Hideaway.
Obviously, the beach access was part of it, except no one would ever get clearance to tear out that maritime forest.
So, what else made the Hideaway so damned critical that the developer was pulling stunts and trying to run the Hargrave sisters out of business?
He studied the light moving across the property inch by inch, painting everything with a hopeful golden glow.
He had spent the remaining hours of the night keeping watch from the queen bed in the suite, listening for any untoward sounds while monitoring the camera feeds on his tablet.
Through it all, Veronica slept on the fold-out chair, a gorgeous distraction.
As if he needed more fuel for his long-denied fantasies.
During the night, she’d muttered, frowned and hunched her shoulders, as if the family legacy was an actual weight pressing her down.
His chest tightened. It had taken every ounce of willpower to stay on task rather than scoop her up and comfort her. Being this close to her—sharing the intimate space of the suite—was a bittersweet, agonizing torture.
That unfinished kiss only added to it. They really should talk about it. Except he wasn’t all that eager to find out she wasn’t that into him.
Over the years, several of his clients had commented on his bravery and dedication. When it came to Veronica, he was always fully dedicated and equally terrified of breaking the friendship that meant everything to him.
He tugged at the front of his dark polo shirt as he paced to the far corner of the deck, assessing the property.
The sisters really needed to add a full fence, though it would have to sit well inside the property line, due to the protected swath of trees.
Of course, if they did that, who knew how far the developers would push against the trees and the rules on their side.
He sensed more than heard the door opening behind him. Roni. He could do this. He could treat her like a friend while doing his job. The lack of sleep would pose more of a challenge, but his body was conditioned to thrive on adrenaline and black coffee.
Turning, he gave her his best professional smile.
She raised an eyebrow. “Good morning. Sorry I slept so late.” She held two mugs of steaming coffee, her blonde hair pulled back into a messy, endearing knot. Despite the dark circles under her eyes, she was breathtakingly beautiful. “Brayden. You didn’t sleep.”
Not a question. Because she knew him too well. “Part of the job. I wanted to be sure they didn’t regroup to attempt anything stupid.”
“Hm.” Her lips pursed as she carefully sipped her coffee. “No action on the cameras overnight?” He shook his head. Sighing, she leaned against the wooden railing. “I wish you looked more relieved about it.”
He wished he felt more relieved. Taking a bold gulp of coffee, he savored the hit of heat and caffeine.
“Police Lieutenant Frasier was already here to pick up the little evidence we have from the attempt to sabotage the water main. He warned me that the odds are low that anything comes of it. My research assistant said the same thing, unfortunately.”
Roni’s lip curled and she glared toward the construction site. “So they get away with yet another stunt.”
“For now,” Brayden murmured. “It’s quiet this morning, though. A slow start today might indicate a small win for the Hideaway.”
“You’re right. Let’s hope it leads to real momentum for us in… Whatever this is.” She smiled at him and his heart tripped. “Is there a name for what’s happening here?”
He took the safe bet, addressing the Hideaway issues rather than their interrupted kiss.
“Corporate harassment is the closest thing,” he offered.
“If you need a label.” No way he’d dwell on what he suspected was a full-blown case of stalking.
He refused to stress her out any further without more evidence or an apparent motive.
In the meantime, he wouldn’t let her out of his sight.
“Are you hungry? I can make breakfast,” she said.
Her phone chimed, cutting off his reply. A second later, he heard tires on the gravel drive. He jogged away from Roni, watching a sleek, compact SUV pull to a stop in front of the courtyard at the kitchen sliding door.
He recognized the passengers immediately. Veronica’s sisters, Celeste and Natalie, had arrived.
“They’re up and about early,” Veronica observed.
He watched her transform, both her posture and expression, as she slipped into the middle-sister peacekeeper role.
Natalie was out of the car and rushing toward them. “Are you okay? Jess caught us up, but you didn’t answer your phone last night and—”
“I’m fine.” Roni used her calm voice. “Come on inside,” she urged, entering the code at the kitchen door. “Why are you stressing out? You knew Brayden was here with me.”
Natalie’s gaze slid to him a second before she slammed into him with a big hug. “Thank you. Did you arrest that bogus survey crew?”
“I don’t—”
“Hey, it’s quiet.” Natalie stopped talking, a slow smile brightening her face. “Did you run them off for good?” she whispered.
“Hardly,” Celeste answered, following them into the cool kitchen. She set down the pastry box along with what appeared to be a newspaper. “I’m glad to see you,” she said to Roni. “Yesterday was a lot.” Her serious smile flashed at Brayden. “Thank you for being here for Roni. For all of us.”
“We brought strudel.” Natalie opened the box from the Bread Basket, then went for plates. “We thought it would soften the real reason we’re here.”
Roni poured coffee for her sisters. “Then you’re not just here to ream me out over moving the Devaney family?”
“That was a brilliant idea,” Celeste said.
“And before you stress about the money, we’re okay.
And no, I’m not sugarcoating it,” she added, cutting off what must surely be a frequent question.
“I’m more concerned with this.” She flipped over the paper, revealing the latest edition of the Brookwell Bugle, the island’s weekly newspaper.
“Can you believe it?” Natalie demanded. “Since when does this town cater to corporate greed?”
“It’s basically an ad for Indigo Reef,” Celeste summarized. “A feel-good piece about their intentions to become part of the community.”
Brayden smothered an oath, stepping closer to skim the article over Veronica’s shoulder: The headline was bad enough: LUXE DEVELOPMENT TO brING MORE TOURISM TO brOOKWELL
The article, with a byline from Bugle editor, Holly Brooks, was undoubtedly a marketing ploy, with canned quotes from the developer about the benefits and impact for the island. Hardly a hard-hitting investigative piece.
“What a load of crap,” he muttered. “It’s a deliberate attempt to scare off or poach future bookings. Clearly, they greased some palms.”
“Not so fast,” Roni said. “Holly’s not like that. She has integrity and has proven more than willing to dig into the issues when necessary.”
“True,” Celeste agreed. “As much as I dislike the article, I’m not blaming Holly. She can only run with the info she has. Remember the whole lighthouse deal? Her persistence is why it’s been refurbished, the history preserved, and we have public access now.”
“All right.” Brayden held up his palms in surrender about the reporter. “So what’s your theory on this?”
Celeste sank into a chair at the breakfast table.
“Holly may have run this in part so we can tell our side. Reveal the annoyances and overstepping and impact. This town values the people who are here already. We may not have gone to school here, but since Mom,” Celeste paused.
Took a breath. “Since Mom’s illness and passing, the three of us have stayed here.
Settled in. We’re already part of the community.
I believe that’s important to Holly and the town in general. ”
“Why don’t we all go over after breakfast,” Natalie suggested.
Brayden was about to agree when Roni shook her head. “Brayden and I are joined at the hip right now. If I go, he goes with me.” She aimed a sharp glare at Natalie. “Not the way you’re thinking. Not romantically,” she stated with such finality his heart sank.
So much for discussing that kiss.
“Just because of the ornery developers next door,” she continued. “Showing up at the Bugle office with a Guardian Agency protector looming behind us doesn’t send the right message, in my opinion.”
“But you have another idea.” Celeste nodded. “Share with the class.”
“It’s just a rough brainstorm,” Roni began. “Having agency folks in and out for training is great. But if we’re not hosting regular guests, what if we set up a cooking class, in person or remotely? We could also rent out the firepit for small groups.”