No point in revealing her emotional instability to anyone else. That’s all it was—pregnancy hormones running amok.
The woman stepped back. “We saw you slip down in your seat and thought you were having some kind of medical emergency.”
“No. I’m fine.”
The man shrugged and turned away, obviously less interested than the woman, concern still creasing her face.
“Can you start your car now?”
Nina turned the key and got the same noise. “I guess not.”
“Can you get a ride?”
The man glanced at his watch.
“I have an automobile club service. I’ll call them.” Nina popped her door handle, since she had no intention of waiting for the tow truck in this rapidly clearing parking lot.
The woman smiled. “You take care now.”
Nina slung her purse over her shoulder and trudged back to the elevator, periodically glancing over her shoulder to look out for the black sedan.
Was it just a coincidence that her car broke down at the very same time a mysterious vehicle seemed to be shadowing her in the parking structure?
Maybe, maybe not, but the scare had just sealed her fate.
She was leaving LA for Break Island, Washington, sooner rather than later.
* * *
JASE FLIPPED UP the collar of his jacket and shoved his hands into his pockets, as the ferry chugged into port. Who the hell would leave sunny Southern California for this godforsaken island in the middle of Puget Sound at this time of the year?
Crazy pregnant lady.
When Jase reached land, he ordered a cup of coffee from the window next to the ticket office. He balanced the cup on the edge of a planter and pulled out his phone.
Jack Coburn picked up on the first ring.
“Jack, I made it to Break Island. I have no idea why anyone would want to open a bed-and-breakfast on this rock. No wonder the place closed down.”
Coburn cleared his throat. “Fishing, sailing, hiking, bird-watching at the sanctuary, and ferries to Vancouver and Seattle. The Moonstones B and B didn’t close down for lack of business. Nina Moore’s mother became ill and passed away. After her mother’s death, her stepfather committed suicide.”
Coburn always did his homework. Jase had known all that about Nina Moore’s tragic history, but he’d been too busy arguing with Coburn about this babysitting job to really take note of her background. Sad stuff—and she didn’t even know about her ex-fiancé yet.
Coburn read his thoughts. “You would’ve remembered all that if you hadn’t been so intent on protesting the assignment. I need you focused, Bennett.”
“I’m on it, boss. Protect the pregnant lady.”
“We have to cover all our bases. We don’t know what’s going on right now or what to believe from Max Duvall’s crazy stories.”
“The body of Nina Moore’s fiancé hasn’t turned up yet, has it?”
“Nope.”
“Maybe he’s not even dead.”
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t change our mission.”
“Protect the pregnant lady.”
“Exactly.”
Jase ended the call and squinted through the gray haze that enveloped the small town rolling out in front of him. Maybe the pregnant lady had escaped to Break Island to hide her condition from her ex-fiancé. He snorted and snatched his coffee from the planter.
Wouldn’t be the first time a woman had tried to hide a pregnancy from a man.
He checked into a small motel in the center of town and returned to the office to get to work. He touched the bell on the counter, and the motel’s proprietor came out from the back.
“Everything okay in your room?”
“Everything’s fine.” He picked up a flyer about the island’s bird sanctuary and tucked it into his pocket. “Maisie, right?”
“That’s right.”
In true small-town fashion, Maisie had introduced herself when he checked in. “On my way in on the ferry, I noticed a B and B on the shore. It looked kind of rough but still open. Any chance the owner needs some help fixing up the place? I’m looking for a little work, and that’s right up my alley.”
“I don’t know if Nina’s looking for help, but she should be. Moonstones has been empty for a few years now and could sure use some TLC.”
“Thanks, Maisie.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “I think I’ll head over there and see if I can offer Nina some TLC.”
Once outside, Jase adjusted his shoulder holster beneath his blue flannel shirt. He’d fit right in with these lumberjack types.
He jogged down the steps of the motel, which sat at the end of the main street, and headed for the path that led down to the beach. He made a left turn, hugging the shoreline as he scuffed along the sandy path toward Nina’s B and B. Moonstones perched on a rocky beach on the far edge of town, along with a few other beach houses. Nina must’ve really wanted to get away from it all.
He traipsed through the sand and clambered over some rocks to get a good view of the building before approaching it.
A tangled garden spilled over the ramshackle fence that ringed the property. One blue shutter hung by a broken hinge, revealing a crack in the window. This didn’t look like a prime spot for someone expecting a baby.
But Coburn had ordered him to get close to the subject, and this ramshackle B and B offered the perfect opportunity. He wouldn’t be his grandfather’s disciple if he didn’t know his way around a hammer and nail—even though Dad had disapproved.
He shuffled through the dry sand and crossed the road to the B and B. The battered wooden gate sagged and he pushed through to the garden in the front. Using the rusty hook, he latched the gate behind him.
This place wouldn’t provide much security if someone wanted to get to Nina. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.
He veered off the overgrown walkway to the front of the B and B, slogging through the knee-high weeds, and cut a path to the corner of the building. He peered around it, taking in a deck with patio furniture stacked in the corner and a fire pit crisscrossed with charred logs.
Squinting, he could almost envision a circle of guests around a roaring fire, toasting marshmallows as the waves lapped at the dock where the boats gently bobbed. Almost.
He hooked his thumb in the front pocket of his jeans and started to turn back...but the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being readied for use stopped him in his tracks.
His adrenaline pulsed for two beats, as his finger twitched for his weapon. Then he took a deep breath. If one of his enemies had a gun on him, he’d already be dead.
A woman’s voice barked out an order. “Put your hands in the air and turn around...slowly.”
He complied and added a smile to his face for good measure.
Nina Moore held him at bay with an old shotgun that looked as if it had seen its best days during the Civil War. Her dark ponytail hung over one shoulder and she widened her stance as she leveled the barrel of the shotgun right between his eyes.
Crazy pregnant lady.
“Who the hell are you and what are