Beyond Risk

by Connie Mann

  Hunter didn’t know what to say. They drove to where she’d left her car, and he changed the tire in no time. Then they drove all the way back to town to get a replacement installed, glad the place was still open. Hunter asked about an old blue pickup, maybe missing a back window, and got a blank look from the kid behind the counter.

  The young man pointed to the computer. “If you have a license plate, maybe a make and model, I can help you, but we don’t record descriptions like that.”

  After several more fruitless questions, they thanked him and climbed back in Hunter’s truck.

  By the time they were finally back at the cottage, Charlee was swaying on her feet. “Get some rest, cher. It’s been a very long day.”

  She simply nodded and went into her bedroom and closed the door. Sometime later, when he heard her cry out from yet another nightmare, he found her facedown on the covers, still fully clothed. She must have walked in and collapsed.

  He slipped off her flip-flops and pulled back the covers before tucking her underneath. Without hesitation, he climbed in beside her and pulled the covers up. Then he eased her closer until her head rested on his shoulder and he had his arm wrapped around her waist.

  “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

  She mumbled something but didn’t wake, just burrowed deeper against him. He listened as her breathing evened out again, but he couldn’t fall asleep. The jumbled facts of the case ran through his mind, frustrating all his efforts to put them in an order that made sense. Anxiety tightened his chest as the worry built, and Charlee murmured a sleepy protest. “Shh. It’s okay, cher.”

  But it wasn’t. He felt like he’d gone back in time, before the raid in New Orleans. They were doing all they could, chasing down every possible lead, but Hunter worried that he’d somehow miss the most important thing. That some seemingly innocuous detail would be the key to it all, and he wouldn’t see the whole picture in time.

  And this time, Charlee’s life would be on the line.

  He tightened his hold on her and vowed to keep her safe.

  Chapter 21

  Hunter had already been up for several hours reviewing his notes on the case when the scent of coffee brought Charlee stumbling into the kitchen. He turned away so she wouldn’t notice how her sleep-rumpled look affected him. They had other things to worry about today.

  He pulled out the last two cupcakes from her recent baking frenzy and offered one. “Breakfast?”

  She watched him as she licked off the frosting, a teasing gleam in her eye. He ignored it and grabbed a frying pan like a lifeline. “How about I scramble some eggs while you get ready?”

  “Great. Thanks.” She planted a quick kiss on his cheek and hurried out of the kitchen.

  When she rushed back into the room a few minutes later, he swallowed hard at the sight of her in another tempting pair of shorts and tank top, damp hair up in a ponytail, a faint trace of makeup on her face.

  The caffeine had obviously kicked in, and she started shoveling food like she was late for a plane. “Nobody called last night?” When he shook his head, she nodded. “Okay, I need to get back to the hospital so Josh can get to work. I’ll convince Dad to go home and get some sleep. Travis is covering the Outpost this morning.” She gulped coffee.

  He walked over and planted a quick kiss on her mouth, ignoring her startled “Oh” of surprise. He grinned, enjoying throwing her just a little off balance. “I already talked to Josh, and he said your mother had a restful night. He convinced your dad to go home last night. Said he’d need his strength for when your mother came home. And Phil, the off-duty deputy watching Natalie, said all is well there, too.”

  Charlee finally sat back, let out a relieved sigh. “Okay. Good. I should go sit with Mama.”

  “Actually, I want to take you with me. We need to talk to Tommy Jennings again. Let him know we arrested Paul Harris. I want to see his reaction.”

  She studied his face. “Your instincts say something’s still off about Paul as our prime suspect.”

  He raised a brow and waited to hear what she was thinking.

  She sighed. “I’ve been going over and over what happened this week and comparing it with last year, and I can’t make any connection—except the school—but I know there is one. There are no coincidences in a murder investigation.”

  “Agreed. That’s why I want you with me. I respect your judgment.”

  She smiled, then her eyes narrowed. “And you don’t want me alone.”

  He grinned, then cleared their plates. “That, too. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  They made the drive back to Lake City in relative silence. Hunter turned on a jazz station and tapped a finger on the steering wheel in time to the music, while Charlee sat with her arms tightly crossed, jaw clenched, staring out the window. He knew she was worried about her mother. But it was more than that. With every mile, her anger grew, until it exploded into a barely concealed fury he understood well.

  He glanced at her, chose his words with care. “Don’t let it get you, cher.”

  She snapped her gaze to his. “Don’t let what get me? That someone is going after my family?”

  “No. The fury. If you give it free rein, it will consume you.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me how to feel, Lieutenant.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. That rage is yours to control. Or not.” He let out a breath and gave her the rest of his story, telling her things he’d merely glossed over with the police department shrink after his brother had died. “Telling Grandmere that Johnny was dead was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. After that, I vowed to find every single member of that drug ring and keep shooting until they were all dead. Grandmere must have known, because she got right in my face and told me that if I loved her, I wouldn’t do this thing.” Hunter shot Charlee a half smile. “Understand, Grandmere was less than five feet tall and under one hundred pounds soaking wet, but she got through. She laid a hand on my chest and told me that it wasn’t my fault. Johnny had made his own choices, and vengeance belonged to God. If I tried to mete it out, it would destroy me, and she didn’t want to lose me, too.

  “So I settled for getting justice for Johnny. By the time I was done, every single member of that drug ring was behind bars.” It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t nearly enough, but it had been the best he could do without destroying his grandmere, too. “She died just before the last one was arraigned.”

  Charlee reached over and gripped his hand, hard. “It wasn’t your fault, Hunter.”

  He raised a brow. “Isn’t that my line?”

  Her back stiffened. “This is different.”

  “No, it isn’t. That anger kept me going for months, until it was the only thing I could see, but it didn’t bring Johnny back, and it didn’t take away a single ounce of the guilt I felt. I don’t want that for you.”

  “He tried to kill my mother.” Her voice sliced like a thin blade.

  “But he didn’t succeed. We’re going to find him, and we’re going to stop him.”

  Charlee made a noncommittal sound in her throat and didn’t say another word the rest of the way. But she didn’t loosen her grip on his hand, either.

  Hunter took the turnoff to Tommy’s place, and Charlee snapped to attention, focused on the area around them. Pavement gave way to gravel, and finally, they turned down the dirt path that led to the cabin.

  They parked in the same place as last time. Hunter climbed out and scanned the area. It had that deserted air, just like before, but something felt off. He leaned into the open window and said, “Stay put and let me look around first.”

  Charlee ignored him and slid out of the truck, gun in her hand.

  He strode around the vehicle and blocked her path, memories of Johnny’s stubbornness fresh in his mind. “We do this my way, or I come back without you. Your choice.”

 
There went that stubborn chin. “This is my family he’s after.”

  “We don’t know that it’s him.”

  She raised a brow, fairly shaking with fury. “Don’t we?”

  “Stand down, Charlee. You know we don’t have enough yet.”

  He kept his eyes on hers until she finally looked away. “Stay here. And keep your gun out of sight.”

  “Okay. But if you’re not back in five minutes, I’m coming after you.”

  “Fair enough.” Hunter pulled his gun but held it alongside his leg as he approached the front door. “Mr. Jennings. It’s Lieutenant Boudreau. We’d like to ask you a few more questions.”

  He moved across the open area to the half-hidden cabin, eyes scanning all the while. He sent a quick glance over his shoulder to be sure Charlee hadn’t followed. She peeked around the corner of his truck, then ducked back out of sight.

  “Mr. Jennings?” He stepped up onto the rickety front porch, careful of his footing.

  The door stood open behind the torn screen door. “Mr. Jennings? Hello?”

  He carefully stepped inside, surprised at how tidy the small space had been kept. After the way Tommy had looked, he’d expected a mess. Recliner and television set, two-person dinette, kitchen nook in the back. Hunter moved farther in, peeked into the minuscule bathroom and single bedroom, home to a carefully made double bed and a sturdy wooden dresser. He glanced into the small closet and saw several shirts and pairs of jeans, all neatly hung. Two pairs of boots sat on the floor. Tommy Jennings might not have much, but he took good care of what he had. Interesting, in light of his drinking.

  Hunter walked into the kitchen, and that’s where things changed. Two empty whiskey bottles sat beside the sink. Several more had been tossed into the trash can. A pile of unopened mail sat on the counter. Beside them, he saw a ticket stub and one of those plastic bracelets you get at events and hospitals. It had obviously been cut off, but not thrown away yet.

  The back door stood open, just like the front. That didn’t seem like something Jennings would do. Hunter would bet money the man locked up if he left.

  He walked down the back steps, gun sweeping the area in front of him, eyes scanning the dense trees. He walked to a small lean-to that had been empty on their last visit. The blue pickup inside matched the description the old couple had given Josh of a vehicle seen leaving the site where Charlee and Brittany had been shot. He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the truck and the license plate.

  His phone chirped with an incoming text from Charlee. I’m coming around the side of the cabin.

  He waited until she appeared, then lowered his weapon.

  “Your five minutes are up. Did you find him?”

  “Not yet.”

  Charlee peered into the lean-to, gun at her side. “Isn’t that the same truck that old couple said they saw?”

  “Very possibly. But Jennings wouldn’t have gone far on foot. Not way out here.”

  Charlee spun in a circle, and her gun came up, scanning the area. “Does that mean he’s out here watching us?”

  “Maybe.” He raised his voice. “Mr. Jennings, it’s Lieutenant Boudreau. If you’re out here, please show yourself.” He motioned to Charlee. “I’m going to circle the perimeter. Stay here.”

  He made a complete circuit, stopping regularly to listen, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

  When he got back to the lean-to, Charlee had disappeared.

  “Charlee, where are you?” He hissed the words. “Charlee!”

  He backtracked into the cabin, but she wasn’t there. “Charlee!”

  Was it possible Jennings had grabbed her in that split second? If so, the man had to be a pro, because Hunter hadn’t sensed a thing. “Charlee! Jennings!” Hunter ran out the front door and circled around the other side of the cabin. The truck still sat in the lean-to. “Charlee!”

  “No! Don’t you dare!” The words seemed to come from far away. But the voice was definitely Charlee’s.

  Hunter froze, heart pounding as he tried to pinpoint the direction of her voice. “Charlee? Where are you?”

  He hurried into the woods, scanning as he went. What if Jennings had grabbed her and was using her as bait?

  Every nerve went on high alert as his eyes adjusted to the gloom in the trees. He heard a loud, “NO! NO! NO!” from off to his right. Head down, he moved in a crouch, gun ready.

  “This can’t be happening again. It just can’t.”

  The forest suddenly opened into a little clearing at the edge of a stream. Charlee crouched at the edge, shaking the shoulder of a man lying facedown at the water’s edge. A large tree limb lay on top of him.

  He hurried over and crouched beside her. “Are you all right, cher?”

  Where he expected despair, he saw fury. “He’s dead. Just like JJ. And Brittany. It wasn’t him. Who is doing this?”

  “First things first. Did you check for a pulse?”

  Charlee looked at him like he was stupid. “Of course. No pulse. We’re too late.”

  Hunter opened his mouth to say more, but then he looked closer. Tommy’s head was submerged in the creek, cocked at a weird angle, the weight of the limb lying across his head and shoulders, making it impossible for him to move. His head was turned sideways, and his wide-open eyes stared out into the clear water. Hunter reached over and checked his neck for a pulse, just to make absolutely sure.

  He put his gun away and pulled out his cell phone to call dispatch, asked them to send local law enforcement. Then he took several pictures. “His body is already cooling.”

  Charlee ignored him and suddenly leaped to her feet. She grabbed one end of the big limb. “We need to get this off him, do CPR. Just in case.”

  Hunter grabbed her from behind, stopped her from dragging the branch away. Attempting CPR might make her feel better, but it could destroy evidence the killer had left behind. Tommy Jennings was beyond help. She knew it, too. “Stop, cher. He’s gone.”

  She struggled against his hold for a moment before she sagged in his arms. He turned her around and held her while she pounded her fists against his chest and silent tears ran down her cheeks. After several minutes, she pulled back, wiped her face, and they went to work.

  While he took photos, Charlee stood off to the side and ran an expert eye over the scene as well. By the time the first responders arrived, she gave them her statement and responded to their questions like the efficient FWC officer she’d been trained to be.

  Hunter watched her, impressed all over again. She was the kind of woman you wanted by your side in a crisis. She didn’t wilt or cower or run. She stood tall and went on the offensive when necessary. If he wasn’t careful, he could fall in love with a woman like her.

  He ignored the little voice in his head that warned he already had.

  * * *

  Several hours later, Charlee sat in the open door of Hunter’s truck, head back, exhaustion a lead blanket weighing her down. She’d answered all the official questions, but the most important one was still unanswered: who was doing this?

  That helpless feeling, like she was trying to peer through dense fog, was so like last year that she shuddered in the stifling humidity. Nothing in her world seemed familiar, except the constant numbing parade of death and near-death scenes. Always centered around water. JJ’s drowning. Brittany and Pete’s near drowning. Josh’s boat explosion. She and Hunter getting run off the road into the river. Her mother’s near drowning.

  And now, Tommy Jennings dead in the creek.

  Dear God, they had to figure out who was doing this. Paul Harris was in custody, so who was left?

  “You holding up okay, cher?” Hunter stepped in front of her, blocking the bright sun.

  She squinted to see his face and nodded. He looked as tired and drawn as she felt.

  “This is not your fault. The fault l
ies with the person who killed him.” Hunter put a finger under her chin to make her look at him. “Don’t take on what isn’t yours.”

  Charlee searched his eyes, saw the truth and the caring there. “I know I didn’t kill him. But I’ll always wish I’d been able to save him. And Brittany. And JJ.”

  Suddenly too frustrated to sit, she climbed out of the vehicle and paced while he leaned against the door. “How is this connected to JJ’s death? If it wasn’t Tommy doing this, then who? And how is it connected to me and my family?”

  “We still have more questions than answers, but we are going to find this SOB.”

  He stepped closer and held out two clear evidence bags. “Any idea what these are? Or where they’re from?”

  Charlee took the one containing a ticket stub. “This could be from any local event. Maybe a raffle ticket? I’m not sure.” She took the other bag. “These look like the kind of wristbands they give you at the carnival for unlimited rides. Josh and I used to go every year when they came to town.”

  “Do they still come?” Hunter had his phone out, keying in a search.

  “Oh, yes. Sammy said he’d been giving lots of prizes away.”

  “Sammy? The kid who brought flowers to your hospital room, has a crush on you?”

  She rolled her eyes. “He’s a sweetheart.”

  “We should talk to him. See if he saw Tommy Jennings at the carnival recently.”

  Before she could respond, her cell phone rang. She fished it out of the console where she’d set it. “Hey, Dad. How’s Mom today?”

  “She’s the same. The doctors say there’s no swelling in her brain, so hopefully she’ll wake up soon.”

  “Did you get some sleep? What time did Natalie get there?”

  “I told her not to come. She has a couple of big tests the next few days, and she needs to concentrate. There’s nothing she can do here anyway except worry. I told her I’d give her regular updates.”

  “Have you talked to her today?”

  “A little while ago. Why? Is something wrong?”