Fatal Encounter (A Counterstrike Novel Book 1)

by Jannine Gallant

  Eli frowned. “I wasn’t looking for you. I simply needed a break before I have to deal with my relatives, and I’ve hiked in this park before.”

  When he waved a hand, she leaped sideways. Watson ran out onto the trail and growled at him.

  “Jaimee?” He glanced from the dog, who’d clearly picked up on her fear, to the woman. “What’s wrong?”

  “Where’s the freak who does your dirty work, huh? Bastard! I can’t believe it’s you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Without answering, she took off running, dodging through the trees. He chased after her, adrenaline pumping as he put on a burst of speed. The damn woman ran like a gazelle. Dragging air into his lungs, he sprinted faster and made up a little ground. A cry ripped from her throat as she went down hard in front of him. Before she could spring to her feet, he tackled her. She kicked and squirmed and fought against his hold. Lying full length on top of her, he pressed her into the ground until her struggles weakened.

  Gasping for breath, he spoke in her ear. “I’m not letting you up until you tell me what I did to scare you. For Christ’s sake, Jaimee, you act like I’m a serial killer or something.”

  “What you did is almost worse. Hiring someone to murder a defenseless woman.”

  She kicked hard and bucked against him, but he didn’t loosen his grip. He had at least a fifty-pound weight advantage, but that was the only point in his favor.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words came out in a grunt when her elbow connected with his side. “I can assure you I didn’t hire a killer.”

  Is she delusional? He debated letting her go, but there’d been no sign of madness in her eyes. Only fear, and he wanted answers.

  “You tracked me down.”

  “I didn’t track you down. I simply stopped here to take a walk and cool off. My heart hurts, and I’m angry that some bastard killed a woman I considered my grandmother. There was nothing nefarious about our encounter.”

  Finally, she stopped struggling. Before she could respond, Watson raced up to them, barking like a lunatic, and bit his leg.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Eli released his grip on Jaimee as he tried to shake off the dog. Instead of squirming out of his hold, she flipped him over and held him down with an arm across his throat. Spots appeared in front of his eyes as she ran her free hand over his body . . . but not in a good way. When she finally levered up off him, he drew air into starved lungs.

  “You aren’t armed. Drop it, Watson.”

  When the dog released his hold on Eli’s leg, he struggled to sit up. “Why would I be armed? Are you freaking insane? Jesus!” Reaching down, he carefully pulled up his pant leg to examine his calve. Teeth marks dented his flesh, but the dog’s bite hadn’t broken through the skin. “Thank God the denim of my jeans is thick, or I’d be taking a trip to the emergency room right now.”

  Jaimee stood several yards away, her expressive gray eyes still wary as she regarded him. “You really weren’t searching for me?”

  “Hell, no. I told you that already. Are you going to explain why you went off on me like some Amazon warrior queen? I thought I was in decent shape, but you kicked my ass. Where did you learn those moves?”

  She ignored his question. “Seems a little too coincidental you’d just show up out of the blue.”

  “That’s why it’s called a coincidence. A chance occurrence. There wouldn’t be a word for it if it didn’t happen.”

  “You’re a regular walking dictionary.” She stepped closer and held out a hand. “Speaking of walking, how’s your leg?”

  He gripped her hand and let her pull him to his feet. “Sore. It feels like that mutt bit me. When did sweet little Watson become a vicious attack dog?”

  She released his hand and glanced down as Watson dropped to his butt to scratch vigorously behind one ear with his back paw. “Since his world turned upside down. I’m the only constant he has right now. He’d be more effective if he was a Doberman, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  “May I ask why you need protection?”

  “Let’s just say the man who murdered Maureen wants to clean up loose ends . . . namely me.”

  Eli reared back, and pain shot through his leg. “Maybe you’d like to explain what you’re talking about?”

  “I saw him when I brought Watson home that afternoon.”

  “The police have a description of the killer?”

  “I haven’t spoken to the authorities. I’ve been too busy trying to avoid getting killed. Anyway, our local sheriff would be way out of his depth in this situation, so I’d rather handle things on my own.”

  The hard tone of her voice sent cold chills through him. Eli wasn’t sure if she was flat out psycho or somehow involved in Maureen’s death, though he couldn’t imagine a possible motive.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re not just a dog walker.”

  “That’s all I am . . . now. Look, I’m not delusional. I just need some time before I talk to the police. I’m working on getting the necessary intel first.”

  “By hanging out in a nature preserve?”

  “I can’t go home. The killer has already tracked me there.” She stared at him for a moment and let out a sigh. “I hope you don’t play poker often.”

  The woman was obviously certifiable. Eli wondered if she’d try to stop him if he walked—or hobbled since his leg hurt like hell—away.

  “Because you’d suck at bluffing. Every thought you have is reflected on your face. I’m not crazy, and I’m not a criminal. I’m a woman caught up in a dangerous situation through no fault of my own. Why don’t you forget about our little encounter and head over to the Croft estate? Maybe take Watson with you. I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention me to your relatives, but I certainly won’t count on your discretion.”

  His temples began to throb, and he felt a little like Alice down the rabbit hole in some alternative universe. “That might be the smart move, but I’m not going to make it.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m the crazy one, but I don’t think you killed my grandmother.” His skin crawled as the thick forest seemed to close in around them. He couldn’t repress a shiver, wondering if there really was some lunatic hiding in the trees. “Can we go somewhere civilized to sit down and talk. I’m pretty certain there’s a whole lot you haven’t told me yet.”

  “Isn’t your family expecting you?”

  “When my uncle called last night to break the news, I told him I’d drive up today or tomorrow. I had some commitments to rearrange, so I wasn’t specific. At any rate, I have a little time to kill.”

  “Going someplace public isn’t an option for me.”

  The woman truly believed she was in danger. Whether a threat existed, or she was simply paranoid, remained to be seen, but he was willing to humor her. “How about my cabin? We could eat lunch while we discuss the situation.”

  She studied him for several long heartbeats, as if she were analyzing him from the inside out. Finally, she nodded.

  “I need to trust someone, and I guess that person is going to be you. Don’t make me regret my decision, Eli.”

  “You’re a total badass. Since I don’t have a death wish, I’ll make sure you don’t regret anything.”

  * * * *

  Jaimee parked in the empty garage bay next to Eli’s BMW, and an immediate sense of calm descend as the double-wide door rumbled down behind her. Safe, at least for the moment. Despite her initial assumption that he’d somehow tracked her down, she’d decided to trust her gut, and her gut was saying Eli was as innocent as he claimed. If she’d misread him, her error would undoubtedly prove to be fatal. Still, she was pretty certain she wasn’t wrong.

  And not just because she didn’t want him to be guilty.

  Releasing her seatbelt, she opened the car door and stepped out onto the concrete floor. Watson scrambled across the console and leaped down next to her, then set abo
ut investigating his surroundings.

  She’d had a huge crush on Eli her freshman year in college, even though he hadn’t known she existed. On the drive from the preserve to his home, she’d almost convinced herself her need to believe in this man had everything to do with pride in her ability to judge people and wasn’t because his smile still made her heart flutter. Almost.

  Eli pulled a bulging canvas bag and a suitcase out of his car. “Come on inside and we’ll make something to eat. It’s long past noon, and I’m hungry.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Apparently he’d also done some soul-searching on the drive and come to the conclusion she wasn’t insane. While his blue eyes still held a hint of wariness, he wasn’t looking at her the way he would an inmate who’d just escaped an asylum. A step in the right direction.

  When the dog sniffed a pair of Nordic skis leaning in the corner, Jaimee clicked her tongue. “Let’s go, Watson.”

  She entered a mudroom through the door Eli held open. A carved wooden bench occupied one wall, and boots and shoes were neatly placed in a rack on the floor. She wondered if Eli was as orderly as he appeared, or if he employed a maid to clean up after him.

  “This way.”

  Jaimee followed him down a hallway past a laundry room and half-bath to the kitchen, which opened into a dining room and living area with floor-to-ceiling windows providing spectacular views of the White Mountains.

  “Wow. You call this a cabin? My whole house would fit in this space.”

  His smile lit up his eyes. “Compared to my home on the Cape, this is a cabin. Not that I’m bragging or anything.”

  “Hey, you earned your millions. Why not enjoy them?” She wandered into the kitchen with its high-end stainless-steel appliances, black granite countertops, and cherry cabinets. “This is gorgeous. Do you keep food on hand?”

  Eli set the tote bag on the counter. “I stopped at a local market to pick up some fresh fruit and veggies along with a few other necessities. The pantry is stocked with staples since I’m here reasonably often, and there’s meat in the freezer.”

  “Sounds like you have it down to a science. What can I do to help?”

  He pulled a loaf of bread and a package of lunchmeat out of the bag. “You can make a couple of sandwiches if you want.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Fifteen minutes later they sat side by side on barstools at the counter eating ham and cheese on rye, along with fresh strawberries.

  “Thank you for lunch.”

  “You’re welcome.” Eli took a bite and gave her a thoughtful look while he chewed. “Are you going to explain why you thought I would hurt you?”

  Trust didn’t come easily. On the other hand, she was used to working with a team, not solo. On the drive from the nature preserve, she’d come to the conclusion she needed Eli. Not that she planned to share her life story with him. Any confidences would be on a need to know basis, and he didn’t need to know much.

  Still, she liked him, maybe more than she should under the circumstances.

  “The man who murdered Maureen took a few shots at me. I’m pretty sure he’s been looking for me since our unfortunate encounter.”

  “You were there at my grandmother’s house when—”

  “I arrived after the fact. He was upstairs, and I didn’t know anything was wrong until I walked in and found Maureen. Her killer and I got a quick look at each other before I bolted.”

  “And that’s when he shot at you?”

  Jaimee nodded.

  Eli glanced down at Watson as the dog stared pointedly at his sandwich. “You took Watson with you?”

  “Not intentionally, but he came looking for me, and I didn’t have a lot of options at that point.” She broke off a piece of ham and handed it to the dog.

  Eli bit into a strawberry and studied her. “A killer shot at you, so instead of going to the cops like a law-abiding citizen, you chose to run and hide out in the woods.” All the warmth had disappeared from his voice, and the suspicion was back in his eyes. “You believe that’s a well-thought-out plan? If the heroine in one of my books made a lame-ass move like that, reviewers would label her TSTL.”

  “You’re going to have to interpret for me.”

  “Too stupid to live.”

  Jaimee dropped her sandwich back onto her plate. “Possibly, but I’d back myself against your average heroine any day of the week.”

  “You do have impressive self-defense skills. I’ll give you that.” He took another bite. “Maybe you could explain your reasoning since I—”

  “You still think I’m delusional? Look, the guy who killed your grandmother was a professional. I might be able to ID him, but I don’t have a clue who he’s working for. When you showed up in the woods, I suspected you were the one who’d ordered the hit on Maureen and had somehow tracked me down.”

  He twisted a strawberry stem between his fingers. “Were you afraid going to the police would expose you to the mastermind behind this operation?”

  She let out a sigh. “Sarcasm doesn’t become you, but you’re exactly right. Someone wanted Maureen dead and won’t shy away from collateral damage to keep his or her identity hidden.”

  Eli was quiet while he finished his sandwich. “You said the killer was upstairs when you arrived. Why? According to the police report, nothing was stolen. At least they’ve determined none of her valuable artwork was taken, and the guy didn’t break into her safe.”

  “You’re pretty sharp. Later, I heard him on the phone talking to his partner. He was searching for something specific.”

  “Did he find whatever he was after?”

  “A key. No, he didn’t, but he suggested the person who hired him would have an opportunity to look once the body was found.”

  Eli drummed his fingers on the counter. “So you assumed one of Maureen’s relatives is involved. Makes sense, I guess.”

  “Or a cop. Possibly a lawyer. Anyone with access to the house.”

  “Suspicious and analytical, an interesting combo.”

  “Hey, if someone is shooting at you, it pays to think on your feet.” She fed the last bite of her sandwich to Watson. “That’s why I suspected you when you turned up out of the blue. I would have reacted the same had anyone in your family confronted me.”

  “I’m not special?”

  She actually smiled at his weak joke. “Maybe a little special. Any idea who would want to kill Maureen?”

  “Most of my family probably won’t shed any tears over her passing. Some of them were pretty bitter Grandpa left her most of his estate.” A frown furrowed his brow. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say they’d kill her for money, though. None of the group is hurting for cash.”

  “Often appearances are deceiving. One of your clan could be in serious debt. Or maybe greed isn’t the motive behind her murder. Fear can be a powerful incentive. Or revenge.”

  “I can’t imagine—” He paused. “Hell, I’m not a killer, so of course I can’t imagine. Truth is, I don’t know most of my relatives all that well. We aren’t close.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Controlling shares in Croft Enterprises are probably up for grabs now, so that could be another reason to commit murder.”

  “Now you’re thinking like a suspense writer, but let’s look at options other than family. How about Maureen’s attorneys? Did any of them have a beef with her? Or maybe she pissed off local law enforcement?”

  “I can’t imagine she had any recent contact with the authorities. Grandpa’s death was from cancer. No reason for the police to be involved since it wasn’t in the least suspicious. As for the gaggle of lawyers he employed, they all seem like yes-men to me. Most have been with the company for years, and they transferred their loyalty to Maureen.”

  “In that case, the person on the phone with the killer was likely a relative. Can you ask a few casual questions when you get together with your family, see who might benefit the most from her death?”

  “I suppose so. In the meantime, what
exactly is your plan?”

  Jaimee rose from her stool and cleared away her plate. “Stay in the shadows. Identify the hired gun. See if there’s a money trail leading to someone with a motive.”

  “How the hell do you plan to do all that without calling the cops?” His eyes narrowed. “Unless you’re with some government agency. FBI? CIA? Who are you really?”

  “None of the above, but I know people who have connections.”

  “Care to share?”

  “If I did that, I’d have to kill you.”

  He responded with a grin. “I’m going to assume you’re kidding.”

  She decided not to disillusion him. “Sure. Kidding.”

  When he brought his plate to the sink, they bumped elbows. “You’re an enigma, Jaimee Fleming.”

  “And you’re kind of hot when you use big words, Eli Croft.”

  He laughed out loud. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

  Chapter Four

  Eli parked behind Webb’s black, four-wheel-drive pickup in the driveway of the Croft estate. The shiny chrome and paint were covered in a thick layer of dried mud, and a gun rack complete with rifles was barely visible through the filthy rear window. Apparently his cousin had been on one of his backwoods hunting trips when word of Maureen’s death had filtered through the clan. Not death. Murder. Eli clamped his teeth together so tightly his jaw ached as he got out of his car and slammed the door.

  As he passed the pickup, he looked into the bed. A turkey with its head shot off lay in a tub of ice. Eli’s stomach churned. He couldn’t help wondering what his grandmother’s last moments had been like before she wound up as dead as the bird. At least the turkey hadn’t seen it coming.

  Not in a rush to reach the house, he strolled slowly past his Aunt Vanna’s Mercedes parked next to Doyle’s red Porsche. Maybe he should have driven Jaimee’s beat-up 4Runner instead of his own Beemer, just to stand out in the crowd of expensive vehicles. He’d left Jaimee and Watson at his house with a promise to report back with whatever information he was able to glean, not that he expected a confession from any of his relatives. His hope was to eliminate a suspect or two with a little creative questioning, preferably the ones he actually liked—or at least tolerated.