Beyond Risk

by Connie Mann

  “Brittany! No! Please! Hold on!”

  Warm arms surrounded her, and a deep male voice rumbled in her ear, “It’s okay, cher. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

  Charlee twisted and thrashed, trying to reach Brittany, but he just kept murmuring in her ear and stroking her back. She felt him carry her down the hall and gently tuck her into bed. She sighed as he pulled the light blanket over her shoulders and kissed her forehead. She couldn’t bear the idea of being alone, so she grabbed his arm and tugged until she felt him climb in beside her.

  The soothing motion of his hand on her arm slowed her frantic heartbeat, and she snuggled in next to his hard body, her back to his chest. He was warm and solid and smelled like soap and man and safety. For long minutes, he rubbed her arm in a steady rhythm, whispering nonsense in her ear, his steady heartbeat soothing her in ways she’d never been soothed before.

  Charlee tried to lift her head to thank him, but she couldn’t seem to summon the energy.

  “You’re a good man, Hunter Boudreau,” she murmured. She pulled his arm around her waist, covered it with her own to keep him there, and slept.

  * * *

  Even though it was very late at night, he’d made sure every inch of his disguise was in place before he approached Charlee’s cottage. You couldn’t be too careful. Boudreau’s F-150 was a dead giveaway that he was still around, which made him angry, but he’d deal with him later, after Charlee. Still, the fish cop was smart, so he was extra cautious as he climbed the tree and swapped out the camera’s SD card. He knew he probably should have waited a few more days before he risked coming back, but he had to know what was happening. Anticipation built just thinking about what he had planned.

  The moment his feet touched the ground, he caught a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. He didn’t stop to think, just raced off into the forest in a zigzag pattern, heart pounding. He finally slowed and hid behind a tree to listen. There was nothing but the normal sounds of the forest at night.

  When he eventually wound his way back to his truck, confident no one had followed him, he climbed inside and sat for a few moments, waiting for his heartbeat to settle. Maybe he’d startled a deer or even a possum, out for a stroll.

  He wouldn’t let himself consider any other possibility.

  To keep his spirits up, he took out his cell phone and flipped through the pictures he’d taken of Brittany that night in her hospital room. Oh, they were good. He smiled at the memories they induced. The one of her wide-eyed terror was a particular favorite. He couldn’t wait to see the same look on Charlee’s face.

  He grinned in anticipation but then sobered. He’d picked up enough gossip to know the cops weren’t giving up on their search. Let them look.

  He and Charlee weren’t having their little rendezvous until he decided it was time.

  Chapter 15

  Hunter had spent a considerable chunk of the night thinking about Charlee calling him a good man and what utter crap that was. His arrogance had gotten his brother killed. He’d also thought about his fury with Paul Harris for threatening her and how damn hard it had been to hold Charlee all night long in that too-short iron bed.

  By the time she wandered into the kitchen at eight thirty the next morning, yawning and stretching like a contented cat, his voice came out harsher than he intended. “Thought maybe you planned to sleep all day.”

  She stopped in the act of pouring coffee and squinted at him. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was so late.” She smiled a little sheepishly. “I guess I still need more sleep than I thought.”

  He should be happy she’d gotten some good rest. “We need to get on the road.” He thumped his coffee mug into the sink and stormed out of the room. It was either that or he’d pull her close, and never mind what he’d told her last night.

  In far less time that he’d ever known a woman to get ready, Charlee climbed into the truck beside him and clipped on her seat belt. “So where are we going, oh cheerful one?”

  He narrowed his eyes, and she had the gall to laugh. “Stop growling, Lieutenant. You don’t scare me. Though I do wonder at the source of all this disgruntlement.”

  “Disgruntlement? We have a murder to solve, in case you forgot, maybe more than one. And some crazy on the loose who blew up Josh’s boat. And a suspect who pulled a gun on you. Yes, I know it wasn’t loaded. Consider me a shade past disgruntled.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I get it. I do. Fine, be grumpy. Miss this gorgeous day. I don’t care.”

  He couldn’t stay mad at her. He just couldn’t. He shook his head, and a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “You’re killing me, cher.”

  His improved mood lasted another hour and a half, until they got to Lake City and Tommy Jennings’s last known address. Apparently, after JJ’s death, Nora had stayed with her mother, and Tommy had moved out to a remote cabin north of town. The GPS took them off the paved road and onto a gravel road, which turned into nothing more than a dirt path several miles later.

  The GPS said, “You have reached your destination.”

  Hunter stopped the truck, and they both looked around the small clearing.

  “I don’t see anything.” Charlee squinted into the dense trees, vines covering shrubs and bushes. She shook her head in frustration. Wait. She leaned forward. “Is that the cabin back there?”

  “I think so. Stay here while I check it out.” He eased out of the truck, hand on his gun. “Mr. Jennings. I’m Lieutenant Boudreau with Fish and Wildlife. I’d like to talk to you.”

  Only the chirp of birds greeted them. Hunter eased over to the cabin, picked his way up the rickety front porch, and called out again, “Mr. Jennings? Are you home?”

  The silence lengthened. Charlee heard rustling from inside the cabin, a door opening.

  “Go away and leave me alone. I haven’t done anything.”

  Charlee eased her door open to better hear what was being said.

  “I’d just like to speak with you, sir. Please come out where I can see you.”

  Tommy Jennings emerged from the shadows on the porch, and Charlee gasped. She would never have recognized the man. Just like Paul Harris, loss had eaten him up from the inside out. His short hair and shaved chin had given way to greasy hair that hung past his collar and a matted beard. His clothes hung on his thin frame, and his eyes held the same haunted look as Paul’s.

  But it was the shotgun he had pointed at Hunter’s chest that got her attention. Charlee took out her gun, held it against her leg, out of view, and headed for the cabin. “Mr. Jennings, it’s me. Charlee Tanner.”

  Hunter let out a low growl before he stepped in front of her. “Put down the gun, Mr. Jennings.”

  “This is private property.”

  “We’re just here to talk. For your safety and ours, I need you to put the gun down.”

  Tommy squinted at Charlee, and his words came out slightly slurred. “What do you want, girl? It’s not enough my boy is gone? You come to gloat?”

  Charlee’s heart clenched, and she blinked back tears. The smell of alcohol hovered like a cloud around him. “I would never do that, Mr. Jennings. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about JJ and wish things had ended differently.”

  At that, Tommy Jennings set the gun on the bench beside the door and spit over the sagging railing. “Then why are you here?” He swayed a bit. He’d been drinking. Heavily. Already, or since last night.

  “Mr. Jennings, your employer says you haven’t been at work the last couple of days,” Charlee said.

  “I took some time off. They’re okay with it.”

  “Where were you on Monday, Mr. Jennings?” Hunter asked.

  He swiped at his tears, looked off into the distance, then swung his gaze between Hunter and Charlee. “I took a walk, had a few drinks, tried to get through the day.”

  “Can anyone vou
ch for that?”

  He snorted. “Not unless you count the deer out there in the woods. Why?”

  “Where have you been since Monday, Mr. Jennings?”

  He spat again, cleared his throat. “Here. Lying low.”

  “A sheriff’s deputy came by to talk to you, and he said no one was home. Were you?”

  He looked away. “I didn’t feel like talking to anybody. Didn’t figure it was anybody’s business where I was but my own.” He looked from one to the other, his expression clearing suddenly, making Charlee think he’d been exaggerating his drunkenness. “Now what’s this all about?”

  Hunter kept his tone conversational, but Charlee saw the way his hand rested on his gun. She kept hers out of sight. “Mr. Jennings, I know this is hard, but I have a few questions about the day your son died. Has there ever been a question in your mind that maybe his death wasn’t an accident?”

  The man’s head snapped up, and his eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Hunter took a deep breath, and Charlee knew he was choosing his words carefully. “Exactly one year after JJ’s death, a girl was shot on a kayak trip. She later died. The coroner says it was murder. We’re trying to figure out if the two are somehow connected.”

  “Murdered?” His head swiveled from one to the other, then his eyes narrowed. “What’s that got to do with me?” He seemed to consider, then he stiffened. “You trying to accuse me of something, Lieutenant? Because I sure don’t know anything about any of this.”

  “We’re just gathering information, Mr. Jennings. That’s all.”

  Jennings turned to Charlee. “Were you there?”

  At Charlee’s nod, he looked at Hunter, then his chin came up and he jerked it at Charlee. “You sure she isn’t the one who did it?”

  Charlee opened her mouth to protest, but one look at Hunter’s face, and she snapped her mouth closed.

  “We’re looking at all the possibilities. Is there anything you can tell us, anything you remember from that day that might help us now?”

  Charlee watched the sadness settle over Tommy. He wrapped both arms around his middle, and his chin started quivering. His feet seemed to collapse under him, and he plopped down hard on the rickety bench beside the cabin’s front door. “Jimmy, oh God, Jimmy. Please God, Jimmy.”

  Goose bumps popped out all over Charlee’s skin, and she felt like she’d been snatched back in time to a year ago. Hadn’t Tommy sat the same way, mumbling the same thing?

  “Mr. Jennings?”

  Several minutes passed before Tommy seemed to come out of his trance. “I can’t help you. I’m just trying to survive.” He stood suddenly, as though he’d just remembered something. “Wait here.”

  Charlee and Hunter exchanged a glance as he disappeared inside the cabin and then stepped back out moments later.

  “I wondered why somebody sent this to me. I guess maybe now I know.” He handed Charlee a manila envelope.

  Charlee waited until Hunter returned from the truck with a pair of gloves and let him open it. He pulled out a photo of Josh, standing by his boat at the Outpost.

  Charlee bit back a sharp cry.

  Hunter slid the photo back into the envelope. “When did you get this?”

  Tommy rubbed a hand over his stringy hair, shook his head. “Yesterday. It was in my mailbox, but it didn’t have a postmark, so I figure somebody just shoved it in there. Seemed strange that it had Charlee’s name on it.”

  “Did you let anyone know you got it?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know what it was. I threw it in the trash, but since you’re here, you can have it.”

  Hunter thanked him, and they climbed back into the truck and wound their way back to the main road.

  “Why would someone give him a picture of Josh?”

  “To let us know he’s watching and that he knows what we’re thinking. He knew we’d come out here and question Jennings.”

  Charlee tapped her fingers on the dashboard, shaking her head. “Someone is trying to pull that poor man back into the nightmare. He’s so broken. And he’s living out here all alone. It breaks my heart.”

  Hunter reached over and squeezed her hand. “I feel for him. But I’m also trying to figure out why he acted more drunk than he was, though it may just have been a way to get us to leave him alone.” He paused. “None of this is your fault, cher. Remember that. And much as I feel for Jennings, we can’t get sidetracked. That photo is either proof the two cases are connected or a clever attempt to throw us off the trail. We need to figure out which it is.”

  She snapped her eyes to him. “The picture of Josh was taken at the Outpost. He was there.” Her heart pounded just saying the words. She remembered her terror at seeing the countdown timer, the panic of trying to find Josh after the explosion. Another thought pushed its way in and added to her chill. What if Hunter was next? “You need to be really, really careful, Hunter.”

  “I plan on it. So do you. That was your name on the envelope.”

  With her concern for Josh, her brain hadn’t made that connection until he said it. She was the thread that connected everything, but they still didn’t know how. Who was next? Hunter? Or maybe Pete?

  Charlee grew quiet, trying to sort it all out in her brain. Her head still ached off and on, so she turned sideways, facing out the window, trying to get comfortable. She let her mind wander, trying to connect the dots.

  The next thing she heard was Hunter growling, “Hang on.”

  Something slammed into them from behind.

  Chapter 16

  Charlee gripped the door handle as the truck fishtailed on the road. Hunter held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip, fighting to keep them on the pavement.

  She glanced behind her, desperate for a look at the driver of the pickup truck following them. It was older, blue, with rust and dents, but she couldn’t see the driver’s face with the sun glinting off the windshield. The truck sped up. “He’s going to ram us again.”

  “I see him. Come on, you coward,” Hunter muttered. He alternated between glancing into the side and rearview mirrors, trying to anticipate their pursuer’s next move.

  Slam. Slam.

  The pickup rammed them yet again, and Hunter’s truck fishtailed, but he managed to get them back in their lane just as an oncoming car approached. The other driver honked and gestured as he went by.

  Charlee couldn’t blame him. If not for Hunter’s skill, they would have crashed head-on.

  “What is he doing?” Charlee’s voice climbed as the other vehicle closed the gap between them again. Hunter kept steady pressure on the accelerator, but there were other cars ahead of them, so he couldn’t go much faster or he’d get boxed in.

  They neared the bridge over the Ocklawaha River, and Hunter cursed as the pickup gained speed again. “Roll down your window! If we land in the water, we’ll be able to get out.”

  “Oh, dear God.” Charlee whispered a prayer as she fumbled for the right button. Hot summer air whipped inside, stinging her eyes. She looked in the side mirror again, but all she saw were dark glasses and a ball cap.

  Hunter hit the gas, trying to break away from the pickup, but the other driver kept pace. Just as they reached the highest point of the bridge, the pickup slammed into them with enough force that Hunter couldn’t correct, even though he tried with everything he had.

  There was a horrible crunching sound as they slammed into the guardrail. The rail held, stopping their forward motion, but Charlee’s relief was short-lived. The truck kept going, flipping up and over until suddenly, they were airborne, the river rushing up to meet them.

  She braced her feet. God, please.

  “As soon as we hit the water, get out.”

  He’d barely finished the words when the truck hit the water, nose first. The impact deployed both air bags, and Charlee fought her w
ay past the bag and unclipped her seat belt. Water poured through the open window, rising fast.

  Oh God. Visions of drowning, of Brittany under the water, tried to swamp her, but Charlee pushed them away. Go, go, go.

  Beside her, Hunter slammed a fist against his airbag, batting it away. “Climb through your window. I’m right behind you.”

  Charlee nodded and gripped the window frame, fighting the force of the water. The hood of the truck was almost completely under the surface, and the murky Ocklawaha poured in faster and faster.

  She pushed through the window frame and held on, waiting for Hunter to follow.

  Why wasn’t he behind her? Where was he?

  The truck shifted and sank farther, and Charlee barely managed to avoid getting pulled down with it. She had to get Hunter. Something was wrong. She wouldn’t leave him, couldn’t fail him like she had Brittany.

  She turned and let the force of the water suck her back into the cab of the truck. There was only a small air pocket left near the roof of the cab. Hunter had his head tilted back to keep his mouth out of the rising water as he struggled and tugged.

  “Get out of here! Go!” He pushed her away with one hand while he kept tugging with the other. No way was she leaving him to drown.

  She braced one hand on the back of the seat and followed the line of his shoulder with the other until she reached his seat belt. That’s what had him trapped.

  She sucked in a gulp of air and dove down, patting her way down his body until she reached his utility belt and the knife he kept there. Come on, come on.