Chapter One #2
The phone didn’t get a full ring in before a female answered. “Black Heart Security, Willow speaking. How may I help you this morning?”
“Someone…is…following me,” she breathed so low she wondered if they could hear her.
“Can you tell me your location?”
Within seconds, Sinead managed to murmur out everything the person needed to know.
“Someone is being dispatched, Ms. Winthrop. Stay on the line with me, okay? You’re doing great.”
The woman’s voice had the kind of calm that only came from having talked a hundred people down from a hundred ledges.
Minutes later, Willow spoke again. “Our agent is arriving now.”
She slowly turned her head and scanned the trees. “I see something.”
“Can you tell me what you’re seeing?”
“A man is here,” she whispered, watching a shape morph out of the tree line. “Closer than the other two.”
“That’s probably our guy. Black SUV if you can see it from where you are. He’s about six-two, wearing a dark jacket.” A pause. “His name’s Hawk.”
Hawk crossed the last twenty yards without making a sound. He scanned the trees once, then looked straight at her, as if she had been standing in plain sight.
“Let’s get you out of the woods and you’ll be fine, ma’am.”
“I’m not your ma’am. Can you just…” She made a shooing motion.
“Take care of them? I can’t go yet—I need to finish what I came here to do.
” She kept her voice pitched low, but she didn’t know why anymore—the men stalking her couldn’t have missed Hawk crossing the ridge like he owned it instead of her.
He positioned himself a few steps away, scouring the trees. “If you will come with me, I’ll follow you back to your hotel.”
She darted a glance toward the last spot she’d seen movement. “I need to be here. If you can just take care of them…” She twitched her head toward the trees.
Hawk compressed his lips. “It’s clear you’re nervous. If you will just come with me.”
Anger swept through her. She drew herself up straighter. “Unless squirrels carry scopes, I’m not imagining things, Mr. Hawk.”
The shot rang out before he could answer.
Bark exploded off the tree six inches from her head, and the world narrowed to noise and the ground rushing up as Hawk shoved her behind him so hard her knees hit the dirt.
He didn’t flinch or duck—just braced himself in front of her and aimed his weapon in the direction of the shooter. “I did not see this coming,” he muttered.
Another shot cracked, and Hawk fired twice. Sinead heard a grotesque thump and peeked around Hawk’s thick thigh in time to see a man crumpling into the brush.
Her pulse was roaring as she pushed to her feet.
“Stay down,” Hawk grated out.
She peeked over his shoulder to the ridge where the second man had gone very still. Too still.
He was lying in wait.
“I’m more worried about the guy at high noon who’s working really hard not to give away his position,” she whispered.
Hawk’s head turned a fraction. “How did you spot him? He show himself to you?”
“I saw the glint off his scope.” She wiped dirt off her palms and muttered, “Of course I never got my concealed carry permit. Why didn’t I do one easy thing?”
He didn’t respond to what she said. He moved instead, low and fast, and it was over in a handful of seconds, a rustle of brush and a final shot she couldn’t watch.
She pressed her palm over her racing heart, trying to make sense of what just happened. Two men followed her. Both armed. Now both dead.
Hawk returned to her side, breath even like he’d taken a short walk instead of defended her by killing two men.
Sinead straightened to her full height, brushing leaves from her clothes. She met Hawk’s stare. “Thank you, Mr. Hawk. You’re dismissed now.”
He stared at her, looking genuinely thrown by her statement. “What?”
“Your service is no longer needed. Willow will bill me.” She was already turning back to the outcropping, to the spot she’d marked in her head before any of this started. Her father hadn’t sent her out here to be rescued. He’d sent her to find something.
She picked up where she left off, shovel in hand, and started pacing it off—twelve, thirteen, fourteen—noting the ridge on her left, the second bend just ahead.
Behind her, Hawk was still muttering about protocol, about not leaving the bodies unphotographed, about not going anywhere until—
“Shh.”
He jolted to a halt. “Did you hear something?”
“I’m counting paces.”
He didn’t say anything to that, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he was just watching her, arms crossed, like he couldn’t decide whether she was serious about dismissing him.
Or questioning if he’d allow himself to be dismissed. Finally, he made a thorough sweep of the area. After a few minutes, he returned to her side.
“You’re safe enough here for a minute. I’m going to document what happened.” He slipped away again, phone in one hand, weapon still in the other, leaving her to count.
After a few more paces, she stopped and looked around. “Where the ridge bends,” she murmured to herself.
She only just jabbed the point of the shovel into the earth when Hawk spoke from behind her.
“Ma’am. I need to get these photos to the office for ID. And I need to get you to a hotel with four walls and a lock, not counting your way to buried treasure.”
“I need to finish what I came here for.”
“Where did you come from, anyway? An attitude like that is going to—”
He never finished the sentence, but his eyes opened wide enough for her to notice the color.
Vivid green.
Right before he opened his mouth and screamed.