Beyond Risk

by Connie Mann

  Someone was down there. Hunter studied Charlee’s still face, jaw clenched. What the hell?

  He turned as Pete hopped out of his sheriff’s SUV. Josh raced from his FWC truck, both headed for their sister before their vehicles came to a complete stop.

  Pete’s face was tight with worry. “Is she okay?”

  “Bullet grazed her. Possible concussion. They’ll do a CAT scan before they stitch her up.”

  “Bullet? What the hell happened out here, Boudreau?” Pete demanded. The look he shot Hunter confirmed why his nickname was Bulldog. “It was just a freaking paddle trip.”

  “Right. We don’t have all the—”

  “Why aren’t the EMTs taking care of her?” Josh interrupted. He shoved his sunglasses up on his head and glared at Hunter from Charlee’s other side.

  Hunter kept his eyes steady on Josh. “They are. But they were busy trying to save the teenage girl. Brittany. She’s headed for the trauma center at Ocala Regional.”

  As soon as the words sank in, Josh’s breath whooshed out, and he swore. “She going to make it?”

  “Hopefully. She got shot, too, and lost a lot of blood.”

  “Run us through the timeline, Boudreau.” Pete crossed his arms and waited.

  Since this was their sister, Hunter ignored the commanding tone—for now—and filled them in on what he knew. “Looks like Brittany dove down for her dropped cell phone and got her foot caught under a log, but Charlee managed to pull her free. She wasn’t breathing when Charlee pulled her out.” He decided not to mention what Charlee had said about someone trying to pull her down. Yet. He’d wait and see if she still thought that after her head cleared. “But as Charlee was trying to get them out of the water, someone started shooting.”

  Pete muttered under his breath and started pacing. Josh pulled off his FWC cap and slammed a hand through his blond hair. “Charlee doesn’t need this, not with everything else she’s had going on.”

  Hunter pierced him with a look. “Agreed. But she’s tough. She’ll handle it.”

  Pete looked from one to the other. “This can’t be a coincidence. Not today.”

  Hunter thought the same thing but kept that to himself for now. “Before we jump to conclusions, we need to gather the facts, see where they lead.”

  “You gather facts, Lieutenant. I’m going to find out what idiot went after my sister.” Pete spun away, but Hunter stepped in front of him and blocked his path.

  He stared his friend down. “I’ll appreciate all the help I can get from you and the sheriff’s department, Pete, but this is an FWC case.” Since the incident had happened on the water, Fish and Wildlife would take the lead.

  Pete narrowed his eyes and glanced over at Josh before scowling at Hunter. “It may be your case, but this is our sister we’re talking about.”

  “I know that quite well.” But the last thing he needed was Pete or Josh screwing up the investigation by going off half-cocked. “We’ll find who did this, and I’ll make sure nothing happens to your sister.”

  “Like you protected your brother? Or your lieutenant?” Pete fired back.

  Hunter didn’t flinch as the words hit home. His guilt over his brother’s death could not be part of this. He turned to Josh. “Why don’t you interview Oliver? Get his statement. Pete, why don’t you get statements from Brittany’s brother, Wyatt, and the two college guys, separately.”

  He turned away without another word, banking on their training to get them to cooperate. He didn’t want to fight them on this. The EMTs were just loading Charlee into the ambulance as he walked over. He gave her hand a quick squeeze, relieved when her eyes fluttered open and she squeezed his in return.

  When he saw Pete talking to one of the young men while the other two waited nearby, he walked over to where Josh sat on a log beside Oliver. Josh tucked his notebook back into his shirt pocket. “This is Oliver Dunn, in case you didn’t get his name earlier. Oliver, this is Lieutenant Boudreau, FWC.”

  Hunter met Josh’s eyes, nodded at the use of his new title. It was a start.

  Oliver looked up, eyes sad. “This sure wasn’t the day I expected.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t. Mr. Dunn, you may have already answered this for Officer Tanner, but why does Mr. Harris think you had something to do with his daughter’s near drowning?”

  The man shook his head again and looked at the ground. “I have no idea. I did everything I could to help, same as he and Charlee did. I heard Brittany might not make it. I guess he needs somebody to blame.”

  “Are you from around here, Mr. Dunn?” Hunter asked.

  “No, sir. From Alabama, Mobile area. Took a little vacation.”

  Hunter kept his tone casual, friendly. “What kind of work do you do?”

  “Mechanic, mostly. Handyman jobs on the side.”

  Hunter kept his eyes on the man’s face as he asked, “Was there anyone else on the river while all this happened with Brittany? Anyone on shore nearby?”

  Oliver stopped, head cocked. “I think Paul went up on shore, and a couple canoes passed us earlier. And then that kid from the Outpost showed up.” Oliver pointed to Travis, who was giving a statement to another FWC officer. “It was weird how he just appeared all of a sudden. I got the feeling he has the hots for Charlee, so that might explain it.”

  From what Hunter had heard from Josh, Travis’s interest in Charlee wasn’t news. His sudden appearance, though, was something else. “Thank you for trying to help today. How can we reach you if we have more questions?”

  Oliver scratched his head. “Well, I was planning to head out today, but I could stay a day or two longer, if you need me to and my cabin isn’t booked.”

  “You’re staying at Tanner’s Outpost?” At Oliver’s nod, he said, “Yes, sir. We’d appreciate it if you stick around a few more days.”

  Hunter stood and walked over to several FWC officers who had arrived on scene within minutes of his call to dispatch. He pulled Officer Lisa Bass aside. Her athletic good looks made men notice her, but Hunter was more interested in her sharp mind. “Hey, Fish. Do me a favor and see what you can track down about the shooter and the gun he used.”

  She stiffened, hesitated, but then nodded and headed toward the trees. “Anything for Charlee,” she said over her shoulder.

  Pete and Josh stepped up beside him. “I don’t like this,” Pete said. “Not today.”

  “I’ll talk to Charlee, see if she can fill in the gaps,” Hunter said.

  “We’ll all talk to Charlee,” Josh corrected. His features hardened, as did Pete’s, as they dared Hunter to argue.

  Hunter understood. In their shoes, he’d want to talk directly to his sibling, too. “I’ll finish up here and meet you both at the hospital. But don’t get any ideas. We do this by the book. For Charlee’s sake.” He eyed them both. “We clear?”

  He waited until both men nodded. Then he strode over to Marco Sanchez, another FWC officer, and put him to work tracking down the truck. He asked Brad “Byte” Griffin to collect physical evidence and then run background checks on everyone involved. As an investigator and computer whiz, Byte did most of his work online, but when word got out about Charlee, her former squad had all shown up.

  Hunter wanted to head straight to the hospital, but he wouldn’t rush and risk missing something critical. His laptop was in his truck at the boat launch, so he called his captain to give him a verbal update, used his phone to fill out a status report, and then checked in with dispatch. He made another careful circuit of the scene, going over everything again.

  Once the scene had been processed and everyone else had left, he cranked up his boat and headed back to the boat ramp and his vehicle.

  He knew that itchy feeling between his shoulder blades wouldn’t let up until he’d gone by the hospital and made sure Charlee was okay.

  * * *

  Ch
arlee floated in that half state between sleep and wakefulness, trying to get her bearings. She knew she was in the hospital because she remembered being poked and prodded and questioned and having lights shined in her eyes. Finally, they’d given her something to ease the pounding in her head and left her alone.

  “Charlee, wake up.”

  The voice was gruff, demanding. Not like Hunter’s soothing Cajun drawl or her brothers’ familiar rumble. Did she know who this voice belonged to?

  “Quit pretending. I know you can hear me.”

  Charlee struggled to focus. Who was angry with her? Why? What had she done?

  A hand grabbed her arm, hard, and she automatically jerked away. The grip tightened, and she froze.

  “You want to play games, act like you can’t hear me, fine. We’ll play. But I’ll win… I always win.”

  A chill slid down her back. She strained to clear the cobwebs from her brain so she could identify the voice, but it didn’t sound familiar.

  “You ruined my plan before. And you got in my way again today. You’ll pay for that. And so will your family.” He clamped down hard on her arm and then let go.

  Goose bumps raced over her skin, and she blinked rapidly, trying to get her eyes to adjust. Who was this? The room was dark. Night. Nothing but shadows. She caught the faint outline of a body, but nothing else.

  Before she could move, she heard the door to the room click shut, felt the change in the air, and knew he was gone.

  No. She had to think. Tell someone. Hunter. She fumbled for the call button on the bed, swung her legs to the floor, but couldn’t get the room to stop spinning enough to stand.

  By the time a soft voice asked what she needed, Charlee knew it was too late.

  Chapter 4

  After a restless night, Charlee woke slowly. She knew Hunter was nearby before she opened her eyes. Which made her foolish heart skip a beat, even as it irritated her. How could she sense the man? She forced her mind to think and shivered as yesterday came flooding back. Memories of last night weren’t much better. She’d dreamt terrifying dreams of being held down under the water, of gators attacking with gaping wide jaws and huge teeth. She thought someone had come into her room and threatened her, too. But that couldn’t be right, could it? The images had tangled up with memories of Brittany and JJ and Nora and made her cry out in terror.

  But Hunter’s voice was there, every time she jerked awake, murmuring in her ear and soothing her fears, helping her tense muscles relax enough for her to doze off again. But as soon as she did, the nightmares continued.

  She slowly opened her eyes and then slammed them shut against the sunlight bursting into the room. He must have noticed, for she heard the blinds close, and the bright light behind her eyelids faded. She slowly opened them again to find Hunter peering down at her, a worried frown between his brows. She glanced away, unnerved. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. Dark stubble covered his chin, and his hair stood on end as though he’d spent the night running his hands through it. So maybe she hadn’t imagined his voice. A vague memory of him holding her hand sent a little thump straight to her heart.

  “How’s the head, cher?” he drawled.

  Dang, but that lazy Louisiana cadence got to her every time. “Sore.” She winced, corralled her unruly thoughts. Asked the question she didn’t want to ask but had to know. “How’s Brittany?”

  “Holding her own. She’s a fighter, cher, just like you.” He sat down beside her and patted her arm like she was his maiden aunt. Or kid sister.

  Her heart clenched as she remembered Brittany’s sudden smile at seeing a huge gator snoozing on the banks, a great blue heron taking flight. “This shouldn’t have happened,” she whispered.

  “No, it shouldn’t have. We’re going to figure out who did this, cher.”

  Before she could grill him for details, the door burst open, and her best friend Liz bustled in, a wicker basket in her arms, a flowered sundress swirling around her legs. Where Charlee’s wardrobe ran to jeans and T-shirts, Liz was as girly as they came. Flowing dresses, painted nails, heels—and a heart as big as all outdoors.

  “Morning, Char, how you doing?” Liz stepped over and kissed her cheek, and Charlee saw the worry in her eyes. “I came by last night, but you were sleeping, and your bodyguard over here”—she aimed a long, pink nail in Hunter’s direction—“kicked me out. But it worked out, since Sammy came by looking for you at the café this morning, so I just brought him along.”

  Charlee looked past Liz to the tall young man shifting from foot to foot, a blush staining his cheeks. He thrust a bouquet of grocery-store flowers in her direction. “Miz Liz said you like flowers, so I brought you some. I hope you’re feeling better, Charlee.”

  Liz gently took the bouquet and brought it closer so Charlee could smell the flowers. “They are beautiful. Thank you, Sammy. It’s so nice of you to look out for me.”

  He shrugged and studied his worn tennis shoes. “I heard you got hurt. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Charlee figured he was in his midtwenties, but he had the demeanor of a young boy. She and Liz guessed some sort of brain injury somewhere in his early life. “How are things at the carnival? Have the crowds been good?”

  At the word carnival, a wide grin split Sammy’s face. “It’s been really fun. Lots of kids are playing my game. I like it when they win and I can give them prizes.” He looked toward the door to be sure no one was listening, then leaned closer. “Sometimes I give the little ones prizes even when they don’t win. I don’t want them to cry.”

  Charlee laughed, which moved her head against the pillow and made her wince. “You’re a good man, Sammy.”

  “I grabbed all those cupcakes you left in your kitchen, and Sammy here ate four all by himself,” Liz said. “The rest were sold within an hour.”

  Sammy grinned. “You make good cupcakes, Charlee. You have to get better so you can make more.”

  “I second that,” Hunter said, pushing off from the wall where he’d been leaning.

  Sammy took one look at Hunter’s uniform and visibly paled. “Are you a cop? Your uniform is different.”

  Hunter smiled, but Sammy still looked like he wanted to bolt. “I’m a different kind of cop. I work for Fish and Wildlife.” He stepped closer, and Sammy backed up a step. “Did you hear anyone talking about what happened to Charlee, Sammy?”

  His eyes jumped around the room, finally landing on Charlee. “I-I heard people say she got hurt. Someone shot her and another girl.”

  “You don’t know who that someone is, do you?”

  Before Hunter finished talking, Sammy’s head swung from side to side. “People shouldn’t hurt other people, even if it’s not on purpose.” He wrung his hands, mumbled, “I have to go,” and rushed from the room.

  “Did you have to scare the poor kid away?” Liz demanded.

  Hunter glanced from one to the other. “He might know more than he’s saying.”

  Liz scoffed at that, but Charlee said, “Maybe. But scaring him will never help.”

  “He’s with the carnival?”

  “Yes, he was here last year, too,” Charlee said. “Rides his bike all over the place. Started coming to the café.”

  “He loves Charlee’s cupcakes,” Liz added.

  Hunter glanced at his watch. “I need to grab a shower. I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.” He leaned over and patted Charlee’s hand again, and a little thrill shot through her at his touch.

  The moment the door closed behind him, Liz turned to her. “Okay, spill. Why was he hovering like an expectant father?”

  Charlee’s eyes widened, and she felt an embarrassing flush steal over her cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Stop. This is me, remember? The girl who knows you have a thing for that sexy man. I still don’t know why you let yourself get involved with that loser
, Rick.”

  “I got shot, Liz, and Hunter’s a cop. Rick is…” Her voice trailed off. How could she ever explain the way he’d confused her, made her insecure and tentative, when she still didn’t understand it herself.

  “Rick’s a control freak, and apparently, takes bribes, too. A real prince.” Liz glanced at Charlee and sobered. “Right. Sorry. And you’re not stupid, just confused about your feelings.” She took a deep breath. “Tell me what happened, everything, from the beginning.”

  Charlee looked at her friend and realized she couldn’t relive it again. Not right now. “I’ll tell you later, okay? Sammy is waiting for you.”

  Liz studied her a moment, then turned to her wicker basket. “Let me just unpack these and get out of your way.” She pulled out a flowered travel mug and held it up. “Coffee, of course. And a few of your own cupcakes.” She pulled more things out of the basket. “A book and magazine.”

  Charlee saw the cover and laughed. “You brought me a cooking magazine?”

  Liz shrugged. “Hey, you’re really good at cupcakes. I figured maybe you could branch out.”

  Charlee sent her a smile. “Thanks for coming, Liz. You’re the best.”

  Liz gave her a quick pat on the cheek. “I’ll check back in later.”

  After Liz left, Charlee reached up and winced when she felt the bandage on the left side of her head. Her skull still pounded like a jackhammer, but she wasn’t seeing double anymore, so that was good. She forced herself to go through everything that had happened yesterday, step-by-step, but when she got to last night, she wasn’t sure. Had she been threatened? Or was it all part of the nightmare? Why couldn’t she remember?

  * * *

  She must have dozed, because it seemed like only moments later that the door swung open again. With the exception of her mother, her entire family trooped in to take her home from the hospital. Even Hunter. She raised the head of her bed, letting the concerned kisses and multiple conversations swirl around her as she steeled herself to handle her family.

  She cleared her throat, and the noise level dropped. “Thanks for bringing the clothes, Natalie.” When she turned to smile at her sister, the motion made her head throb, but she hid her wince, hoping no one would notice. If they did, they’d never leave her in peace.