Shit. He should’ve left his sunglasses on. Of course Marla would recognize him, even with the beard and mustache. She’d kept an eye on Grant and Drake those first few years after their mother had died before they’d been old enough to stay home alone after school until their father had gotten off work. During the summers, she’d filled in when needed, but many of their friends’ parents had stepped in to help too, inviting the brothers into their homes during the day. Grant remembered the weekly schedule they’d set up, so Joe Hadley hadn’t needed to worry about his sons getting into trouble. That was the great thing about small towns—there were always people willing to lend a hand during tough times.
The last time he’d seen Marla had been a few months before Grant’s ill-fated last assignment. Whenever Blair and Grant had visited Hazard a few times, after moving permanently to D.C., they’d always made a point to stop in to see Marla and Al and treat them to lunch while their employees manned the stores.
Another vehicle, a green, four-door sedan, pulled to a stop next to the accident, and two other older women got out to see if they could help. Grant recognized them from the church he’d attended as a youth but couldn’t recall their names off the top of his head. What he did remember was they were two of the biggest town gossips. Setting his hands on the door, Grant sighed. He’d known, sooner or later, it would get out that he was back from the dead—it looked like that time was now. “No, you’re not imagining things, Mrs. O. It’s me.”
“Oh my Lord.” Gaping at him, she tried to open the door, but the front quarter-panel had been pushed back, blocking it. “Damn door. And this seatbelt is stuck too. Help me out of here, please, while I wrap my head around you not being dead and buried at sea.”
Grabbing the handle, Grant yanked on it and, with some effort, got it open just enough for him to squeeze in behind it and push it out further. When there was finally enough room for Marla to get out, he pulled out the pocketknife he always had on him and cut the strap holding her in place. Once she was free, she rotated in her seat until she was facing him, then reached up and cupped his face with her hands. “It really is you. Oh my Lord! Do Drake and Blair know?”
He gave her a small smile and gently grasped her wrists, pulling her hands away. “They do now.” He retrieved a bandana he also kept in his back pocket. “Let me take a look at your forehead—you’re bleeding.”
“I am?” She touched her hand to her head and winced. “Oh, it’s nothing. This old noggin has had worse.”
“Marla, are you okay?” one of the old biddies called out from the roadway. She eyed Grant warily. “Who’s that with you?”
Beside her, the other woman piped up. “That looks like Grant Hadley, doesn’t it, Sue?”
“Isn’t he dead?”
“I thought he was, but he doesn’t look dead to me.”
“Maybe he’s one of those look-alikes that everyone supposedly has. What’re they called again? Dope-gangers?”
As the two women discussed reincarnations and doppelgängers on the side of the road, Grant helped Marla from her incapacitated pickup. In the meantime, another vehicle, driven by Al Oberman, arrived moments before Lane pulled up in his patrol vehicle with its flashing lights on. Seconds later, a tow truck appeared with Josh Perkins, who was Grant’s age, at the wheel—apparently everyone had been nearby when the calls for help had come in. Grant was greeted by a new round of disbelief from the guy he’d gone to school with and Marla’s husband. As he tried to explain to everyone but Lane that his reported death had been part of a classified mission with the Secret Service, the lawman grabbed the hind legs of the dead deer and dragged it out of the roadway.
It was a good fifteen minutes before Grant was able to finally disengage himself from the five people peppering him with questions he couldn’t answer. Striding over to the police department’s Chevy Tahoe, Grant stopped next to the driver’s door. Lane was sitting inside, with the window rolled down, writing up the accident report. He glanced over at the little group who were all pulling out their cell phones. “Twenty bucks says the whole town knows within the next five minutes.”
Grant snorted. “I might’ve only been back to visit Hazard a few times since I went off to college, but I’m not stupid enough to take that bet. It was bound to happen—I’m actually surprised it took this long.”
His cell phone rang, and he checked the screen before answering the call. “Hey, Nathan. What do you have for me?”
He could hear the geek tapping away on his computer’s keyboard as he spoke. “I’ve got four parole violators, eleven separate warrants for domestic violence, a burglary, writing bad checks, grand larceny, shoplifting, and DWIs. I’ve got two deadbeat dads who skipped out on child support, six vehicles with revoked tags, one stolen vehicle, and a BOLO for a suspect in an assault in a bar last weekend. What I don’t have is anyone I can connect to you, but with all this data, I could be missing something. I’ll keep combing through it all. In the meantime, I’m sending everything the cops will probably want to check out to the email address I have for Chief Hughes. I’ll send you and Price copies of that stuff, plus information on all the other registrations for you to look through. If something stands out to you, let me know, and I’ll follow up on it.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Catch ya later.”
Disconnecting the call, Grant turned back to Lane. “The bad news is Sawyer’s man didn’t find anything connecting anyone from the Liberty Campgrounds to me. The really bad news is you’re probably going to be busy as hell later.”
The cop groaned. “Let me guess—a bunch of tags came back with warrants.”
“Among other things.”
“Shit.” He pulled on the door handle, and Grant stepped back to let him get out of the vehicle. “I’m starting to hate that damn rodeo.”
Grant didn’t blame him, but he had other stuff on his mind. “If you don’t need me for anything, I’m heading back to the house. We’re probably gonna have our own shit to deal with as the gossip mill’s phones start to heat up. See you later.”
“Later.”
As Grant walked toward his rental, Marla intercepted him. She waved his now-bloodied bandana at him. “Thank you for stopping, Grant. I’ll get this back to you as soon as I wash it.”
“You don’t have—”
“Oh, hush.” She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. “I know you can’t tell us what really happened to you, but I want you to know, you’re always welcome in Hazard. We missed you—you’re family to a lot of people here, whether you realize it or not. And if you need anything, you just let Albert or me know and we’ll be there.”
Leaning down, he gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Mrs. O.”
She clicked her tongue. “You’re old enough to call me Marla. Now, go do whatever you have to do, and thank you again for stopping to help.”
“I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time.”
With a final squeeze, she let go of his hand. As he started for his vehicle again, Grant thought of the list of reasons he’d made as a teen about why he’d wanted to leave Hazard Falls and realized it didn’t compare to the list of what he’d left behind.
Chapter Fifteen
Blair was loading the dishwasher with the empty plates and glasses from the kids’ lunches when the house phone rang. After quickly wiping her hands on a dish towel, she grabbed the cordless receiver from its cradle on the wall. “Hello?”
“Hey, Blair, it’s Nicole. Just calling to make sure you’re okay.”
Her eyes narrowed at the concern in her friend’s voice as she hung the towel on the oven handle. “Hi . . . um, I’m fine . . . why wouldn’t I be?”
“Oh, good, I’m the first one to call. Get ready for the flood gates to open. Apparently, the cat’s out of the bag, and the gossip mill knows about Grant.”
Walking into the family room where Regan and Michael were playing, Blair sat on the edge of the sofa. “What do you mean? What
happened? Is he okay?”
“He’s fine, but Marla Oberman hit a deer on Shadow Rock Road, and Grant was the first one there.”
“Oh, no! Is she hurt?” Marla was one of the sweetest women in Hazard Falls, and Blair hoped she wasn’t badly injured. There’d been more than one fatal accident involving deer over the years on that road, but speed was usually a contributing factor in those cases.
“From what I heard, she banged her head a bit, messed up the front of her truck, and killed the deer, but, other than that, she’s okay. She didn’t even go to the clinic or emergency room. She was more shook up about Grant, thinking she was hallucinating at first.”
“She wasn’t the only one,” Blair admitted. “I still do a double take every time he walks into the room.” That was true; she kept thinking it was one of the dreams she had of him and expected to awaken at any moment to find out none of it was real. “Grant didn’t ask her to stay quiet? I mean, I know Marla loves to chat, but she’s also good about keeping secrets when necessary.”
“I’m sure he didn’t have a chance to ask her before Sue Pinsky and Benita Ross stopped to help not long after he did. There’s no way those two can resist burning up the cell towers with juicy gossip. Then Albert arrived, and, a few minutes later, Josh Perkins showed up with the tow truck. Expect a lot of calls and a few gawkers driving by, trying to get a glimpse of the prodigal son of Hazard.”
Blair sighed as her cell phone rang in the kitchen and the cordless in her hand beeped, signaling a call-waiting at the same time. After checking the number, she ignored the call on the house line. “I think it’s starting already. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll call you back later.”
The back door opened, and she heard Drake walk in while talking on his phone, with Roscoe on his heels. The dog passed through the kitchen and ran upstairs, probably heading for Trevor’s bedroom. Drake’s voice filtered into the family room. “Yes, Pastor Harrington, it’s true . . . yes, it’s a miracle . . . no, I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to say where he’s been all this time . . . no, he wasn’t trying to deceive anyone . . . yes, sir . . . no, sir . . . I will, sir. Goodbye, Pastor.”
As soon as he disconnected the call, his phone rang again as Blair met him in the kitchen. She rolled her eyes as her cell’s ringtone joined his, followed by the cordless phone in her hand again. She glanced at the screen and didn’t answer the call. It was one of the church ladies calling. Instead, Blair turned off the ringer. Drake did the same after declining to accept the call on his cell.
Blair checked the incoming number on her iPhone and chose to answer that call. “Hi, Paige. Yes, I’m fine, but the phones are ringing off the hook, and I only found out about Marla from Nicole two seconds ago. Grant isn’t back yet, but I’m sure he’s on his way. Drake is here, and we’re screening our calls.”
Her friend chuckled. “Well, damn, girl. I like it when I don’t have to play twenty questions with you. You covered everything I was going to ask except one thing—do you need us to help you with the kids or anything?”
She eyed Drake who apparently was getting text messages now that he wasn’t answering his phone. “Thanks, Paige, but I don’t think so. I’ll call you if we do. I have a feeling we’re just going to be holed up here for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, at least, until things calm down again.”
“Well, then let me send dinner over with Shane. He’s stopping at Bar None with Ari after they run a few errands. I’ll have them make you a few pizzas unless you want something else.”
Leaning against the counter, Blair rubbed her temples. “That would be fantastic; tell Shane I’ll pay him when he gets here.”
“Oh, hush. It’s on us tonight. You’ve got enough to deal with without trying to remember where you put your purse.”
Blair couldn’t hold back the laughter that erupted from her, and some of the tension she hadn’t known was there left her neck and shoulders. It was a standing joke among her friends that she forgot where she put her damn bag on a regular basis. She was starting to think the kids moved it in order to drive her nuts and send her hunting for it in every room. It just never seemed to be where she thought she’d left it. “Thank you. We’ll treat you next time.”
“No worries. Let me call it in. Just cheese on one pie and pepperoni on another, right? Will that be enough with Grant there?” The bar pies weren’t as large as the ones from the pizzeria on the other side of town, but the crust and sauce tasted far better, in Blair’s opinion. Paige’s family agreed with her.
The front door swung open and Grant strode in with two of the men who’d been watching the property and her family. This was the first time more than one of them had been in the house at the same time, and it was probably because the word of Grant’s presence in Hazard had gotten out. She might as well feed them while they were here. “Actually, can you make it two pepperoni and three cheese? Two of our guards are here and probably will be for a while.” When Paige said it was no problem, Blair wrapped up the call. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”
Grant entered the kitchen with the two men—Vic, the retired SEAL, and Manny Cortez, whom she’d been told had been a Marine Raider. With the four huge, male bodies in the room, Blair felt petite, something that hadn’t happened since before her first pregnancy. She was grateful when they all took seats at the table. “Is Marla okay, Grant?”
“Yeah, she’s fine. I think she was more freaked out about me than the damage to her truck or the laceration on her forehead. It didn’t look like she needed stitches though.” He gestured to the two men whose physiques looked like they were still in the special forces. “Vic, Manny, and the others will no longer be hiding, but we’ll pass them off as friends of mine if anyone asks. With the entire town knowing I’m alive by now, we may have people showing up on our doorsteps. The guards won’t be able to tell who’s friendly or not from a distance, and we can’t risk that. I know some people won’t believe they’re just visiting, but I don’t give a rat’s ass. I get the feeling we’re going to be hearing from our photographer soon.” When Drake’s eyes narrowed at that statement, Grant explained, “Call it a hunch. Whoever it is was waiting for us to get complacent, and that’s another reason why I want the guards visible. New guys will be arriving tonight. Those are the ones who will be monitoring things from a distance now. If this guy has been watching, he may know we’ve had protection. If he sees Vic, Manny, Bruce, and Liam staying close to the house, maybe he’ll miss the new guys and accidentally make himself known.” Bruce Whitfield and Liam Hennessy were the two other former military men guarding the Hadleys.
“I wish we could take the children somewhere safe,” Blair said. “But I have no idea where to go. Do you really think this guy might harm them?”
Grant stood, and Blair was shocked but relieved when he pulled her into his arms and held her gently against his hard chest. The act felt comforting and natural, as if no time had passed since they’d said goodbye when she’d dropped him off at the airport all those years ago. Drake was behind Grant, so she couldn’t see her husband’s reaction to his brother holding his wife, but Blair hoped he wasn’t jealous or hurt. Right now, she needed Grant’s strength, expertise, and knowledge about the situation. Drake didn’t know anything about the world of secret agents and special-ops people. He knew carpentry, raising and protecting his family, and the normal, everyday stuff most Midwesterners dealt with on a day-to-day basis. The residents of Hazard Falls had experienced their fair share of rough times over the years—droughts, tornados, house fires, etc.—and Drake had stepped up to help every time he could. But the CIA? Black-ops teams? International intrigue and espionage? Stalkers? Yeah, those were Grant’s specialties, apparently.
God, she was still trying to wrap her head around that. Her Grant—a US spy. Never had she suspected he’d hadn’t been working with the Secret Service, guarding some diplomat’s life in a foreign country. He’d always been smart, figuring things out faster than anyone else she ever knew, so now that she was
aware of what he’d really been doing back then, it wasn’t such a ridiculous thought. He’d probably been very good at his job, even though he’d been caught. Blair still wondered how that’d happened because she couldn’t see Grant being outwitted by someone else.
Grant’s warmth infused itself into Blair’s body, pushing down the chill she felt every time she thought of her family being in danger. His hands rubbed her back as he held her, and she tried to ignore the way her nipples pebbled or the stirring she felt in her core. Even after all these years, her body recognized his. It’d been several days since Tucker and Shane had spoken to the Hadley brothers and Blair had resigned herself to the fact neither Drake nor Grant was interested in a ménage relationship, since neither had mentioned a word of it. At least she knew without either of them knowing how much she wanted both of them. That she would have to keep to herself because she never wanted Drake to feel like she’d settled for him due to their marriage certificate. If she had to choose, she’d choose her husband every time. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t love both men equally in her heart.
With her head resting on Grant’s chest, she felt as well as heard each word he spoke. “No, I don’t think he’ll go after the children, sweetheart. He wants me, and he’s using the threat to my family for his own twisted reasons. As soon as I know what they are, I’ll use them to bring him down. Drake, the guards, and I won’t let anything happen to you or the kids. I swear it. I’ll bring hell to Hazard before I let anything happen to any of you.”
As if suddenly realizing how their embrace might look like to the other men in the room, specifically Drake, Grant released her and stepped back. Her body shivered at the loss of contact. Not wanting to see the look on Drake’s face, Blair took the coward’s way out. “Um, okay. Let me go check on the children while y’all . . . do whatever it is you need to do.”
Don't Shoot the Messenger: Hazard Falls Book 2 Page 11
