already because of her, and she was no closer to learning the name of the person responsible for their murders now than on the night of the attack. Even if she did trust JT, she’d be putting his life in jeopardy by doing so. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”
JT glanced around the great room at the unpacked moving boxes scattered around the room. “You said you’ve been here a month and yet you’re prepared to pick up and leave at a moment’s notice. What are you running from, Faith McKenzie?” he said, a challenge in his voice.
She drew in a shaky breath and did her best to answer without giving anything else away. “Nothing.”
Just the tiniest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth. “I spent way too many years as a detective not to know when someone isn’t telling me the truth. Whatever this is, it won’t go away on its own.”
When she didn’t answer, he added, “Okay, I understand. You’re not ready, but when you are, you can talk to me.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s late and I should go, but if you need anything, anything at all, you can call me. I live just down the beach from you.” He reached inside his wallet and pulled out a business card. “Here are my numbers. The one at the bottom is for the house here but you can reach me on my cell at any time, day or night.”
“Wyatt Securities” jumped out at her in bold black lettering.
“I mean it, Faith. If you need anything, you call. Even if it’s just to talk.”
He walked over to the door before adding, “I’m going to give you a piece of free advice. Living on the island, especially out here along the beach, can be isolated. We are all neighbors here. We take care of and rely on each other. I don’t know what’s going on in your life, but if he’s bad enough to make you as scared as you clearly are, I hope he doesn’t follow you here to Hope Island for everyone’s sake.” JT lifted a finger in a final farewell then strode out her door and she could breathe again.
He had no way of knowing how much she desperately hoped for the same thing.
* * *
JT had seen the expression in Faith McKenzie’s eyes a hundred times before while working domestic violence cases. It never got easier and it always promised a bad ending. Faith McKenzie was scared to death. God only knew what kind of trouble lurked in her past.
He’d encountered a lot of desperate victims on the job, but the type of fear he’d seen in her tonight seemed fused to every part of her being. He couldn’t imagine what had happened in her life to bring her to this point.
JT tried to dismiss the unfamiliar stirring in his heart as he walked along the beach to his house. There was something about Faith that made him want to help her. No one deserved to live in such turmoil, and although she was clearly scared out of her mind, he couldn’t deny he found himself attracted to her. He hadn’t thought of another woman as beautiful since Emily’s death.
Even without a trace of makeup, Faith was a strikingly lovely woman. She’d twisted her raven hair up into a makeshift knot on top of her head. Several strands had worked loose and framed her oval face. She hadn’t been trying to impress anyone and yet she possessed the type of beauty that didn’t need enhancing. But it was her eyes that tore at his heart the most. They were the color of midnight blue and haunted by fear.
Without a doubt, she was one troubled soul and he didn’t know what to do about it.
You can’t help someone who doesn’t want your help, he could almost hear his sister saying. It was certainly true enough and it wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own set of concerns to worry about.
This had been the most stressful week in a long time and the upcoming one promised even more issues. One of Wyatt Securities’ potential clients, a global energy firm, had recently detected a major security breach in their servers and had come to Wyatt for advice on how to overhaul their systems and to ferret out any additional breaches. If Wyatt landed the contract, it would mean a huge amount of business for the company. With their already heavy workload, the additional business added up to a lot of overtime for the staff and for JT. While part of him welcomed the challenge, lately he was feeling a little overwhelmed and unfulfilled. There had to be more to life than work. Even for someone like him.
JT rubbed a hand across his jaw. He had enough on his plate figuring out his own life, so the last thing he needed right now was the kind of trouble Faith represented.
Lord, You help her. I can’t. His prayer sounded about as empty as he felt inside. Truth be told, he had stopped looking to God for help after his wife’s death. He wasn’t even sure he believed anymore. After all, if God was so all-powerful and loving, why had He let someone good like Emily die in such a brutal way? JT himself should have been the one to walk into that convenience store and confront the robber. He should have died that night. Not her. Yet for his sister’s sake, he still attended the small church they’d grown up in each week and pretended. But the pastor’s message, the scriptures he read—they didn’t reach into his heart the way they had in the past.
The house JT had been restoring here on the island for the past three years had become his only real source of contentment.
His father had been a local Hope Island police officer for more than twenty years and had taught JT how to find comfort in the simple things of life. After Edward Wyatt retired from the force, he’d begun restoring houses up and down the Maine coast. JT loved working with his father. He’d never felt closer to him than when they were working side by side to bring something on the brink of ruin back to its former glory.
JT reached the edge of his property and turned toward the house he’d just left.
Who exactly had been on the other end of that call to bring such terror to Faith McKenzie’s eyes? The way she reacted to his sudden appearance, even after she realized he posed no threat, pointed to someone who didn’t know her stalker’s identity. If so, then every stranger she met would represent a possible risk.
The detective in him wanted to know what she was hiding in her past. A woman so young didn’t move to an isolated town like Hope Island without just cause.
Whatever it was, it has nothing to do with you, he said to himself. He had offered his help. If she didn’t accept it, there wasn’t much else he could do.
Still, out of curiosity, JT grabbed his cell phone and called Derek Thomas, his good friend and one of the founding members of Wyatt Securities.
“Hey, I need you to do me a favor,” JT said without bothering to return Derek’s hello. “Can you do a background check on someone?”
It wasn’t unusual for JT to ask for Derek’s help in this manner. After all, he was a computer genius and could uncover anyone’s secrets no matter how deeply hidden. “Sure, pal, whatever you need. Who do you want me to check on?”
“Her name is Faith McKenzie. She rented the old Fitzgerald house down the beach from me.”
“I see. What’s your concern with her?” He could tell from Derek’s tone that he thought it odd JT wanted a background check done on his neighbor.
“I’m not sure.” He briefly filled in his friend on the chase that ensued after he stopped by Faith’s place to return her dog to her. “From her over-the-top reaction, I think someone is stalking her and my gut tells me this isn’t the first time it’s happened, either.”
Six months after his wife’s death, JT had left the police force because he couldn’t bear the constant reminder of how he’d let Emily down. He’d founded Wyatt Securities along with Derek and another close friend, Teddy Warren. He hadn’t been able to help Emily, but he was determined not to let such a tragedy befall another innocent person on this island.
“I want to know what she’s hiding. If it’s any help, she has a very distinctive Texas accent. She’s obviously lived there at some time in her past.”
After a slight hesitation, Derek said, “I’ll get started on it right away.”
“Good.