Safe in His Sight

by Regan Black

  “You,” Julia said, her body going tense when she recognized the kid. “You gave me the note in the park.”

  The kid nodded, his gaze locked on his shoestrings.

  “He goes by K-Chase as a hacker,” Bryant said. “Took us some time to verify his story.” Bryant jabbed him in the shoulder. “Talk, kid.”

  K-Chase leaned forward. “I apologize, Miss Cooper.” He lifted his gaze to search her face. “You got your money back, right?”

  “Yes,” she replied, wary.

  “You locked her out of her accounts?” Mitch asked. “You’re responsible for the credit card fraud?”

  “Yeah.” The kid rolled his shoulders back, a little pride showing. “And I’m the one who fixed it all, too.”

  “And,” Bryant prompted when he stopped talking.

  “And I’m sorry for sending that picture to your boss, messing with your gear, and all the rest of it. Really sorry about the whole thing with you and the car,” he said to Mitch. “He said he’d kill me if I screwed up his plan to escape.”

  “Leo Falk threatened to kill you?” Julia asked, incredulous.

  The kid drummed his fingertips on his knee. “I got conned as much as anyone else. A few hacks for some easy money. It snowballed.”

  “What an understatement,” Mitch grumbled.

  “Hey, I can get in and out of any system in the world, but I’m not a killer. When I heard he died in that fire, I wasn’t sure. So I stayed low awhile. He faked it once before.”

  “Yes, we’re aware,” Julia said. “You were supposed to kill Mitch?”

  K-Chase nodded. “I did just enough to make it look good, then I ran.”

  At the memory of shaking out of the blackout and running back to find the house on fire, Mitch couldn’t quite suppress the shudder. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to throttle the kid or shake his hand. Julia reached back and laid her hand over his on her shoulder, making the decision for him. They’d survived. He’d focus on the positives.

  Bryant shoved his hands into his pockets. “Kid offered a full confession if I let him apologize to you both.”

  “Thanks,” Mitch and Julia said in unison.

  “All right, time’s up, kid.” Bryant urged K-Chase to his feet. “Let’s move.”

  Julia watched them go, and Mitch could hear the wheels turning as he took the empty chair. “Don’t even think about it,” he murmured at her ear. “You know that one’s guilty.”

  “He’s entitled to competent defense,” she protested, her eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully.

  Grant laughed. “I’m not sure the kid can afford a Marburg attorney.”

  Mitch held his breath, watching the reactions play across Julia’s features.

  “I can have my old job back? No one’s reached out to me.”

  Grant shrugged a shoulder. “Based on the evidence Bryant is pulling out of that kid, your job may be the easiest situation to rectify. K-Chase didn’t just hack for Leo, he hacked into Leo’s operation. A kid like that will trade everything he knows to avoid hard time.”

  Grant had enough experience to know.

  Julia reached out and caught Mitch’s hand, lacing her fingers through his. “I suppose it’s something we’ll consider, if Marburg makes an offer.” She gave him one of those smiles that just shot through him like a summer day, her eyes as bright as the diamond on her finger. “In the meantime, we have a wedding to plan.”

  “Well, if you need a band or reception venue, say the word and the Escape is yours,” Grant offered with an easy smile.

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Mitch said. Standing, he draped his arm around her shoulders, enjoying the way she leaned into him at every opportunity now.

  “We’ll think about it,” she replied, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I had a different request for you, Grant.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Would you please walk me down the aisle?”

  Grant’s face blanked for a second, then gave way to a brilliant grin. He came around the desk and wrapped her in a big hug. “I’d be honored.”

  “You’re amazing, you know that?” Mitch pressed a kiss to the top of her head as they left the club. It was such a gift to be trusted with her big, tender heart. “You made his night.”

  “He’s the closest thing I have to a dad, next to yours,” she explained. She nestled closer into his embrace. “I get that from you,” she added, her voice turning shy.

  “What’s that?”

  “The courage to let people in. In close enough to feel like family.” She pressed up onto her toes and kissed him. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart.” Just when he thought his heart couldn’t hold any more, she gave him words like that. “You have plenty of family now.” He laughed. “You’re the most courageous woman I know and I’ll be here to remind you today, tomorrow and always.”

  *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from CONARD COUNTY MARINE by Rachel Lee.

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  CONARD COUNTY MARINE

  by Rachel Lee

  Prologue

  The talk in town said Kylie Brewer was returning to Conard City with no memory of what had happened to her. That should have made the man who had tried to kill her feel good, knowing she couldn’t identify him, but he didn’t trust her amnesia. He was going to have to keep an eye on her in case she started remembering. The possibility terrified him.

  And then there was the fact that she was still alive. That bugged him. She was supposed to have died, vanishing forever from his life. Instead she still breathed and walked and talked.

  And she might remember.

  He was galled by the fact that he had a score to settle with her. He thought he’d done it when he left her in that alley. Apparently not. Or maybe he had. He couldn’t quite make up his mind about that.

  Regardless, the need to take her out hadn’t been satisfied, not completely, and it still nagged at him, made him itch. Kylie Brewer should be dead as physically as her memory had become.

  He pushed ideas around in his head, trying to square his needs with reality. She had survived, but she’d lost all her plans and a chunk of her life. Kylie was now damaged goods. Surely he could leave it at that. But part of him wasn’t pleased and probably never would be. An unfinished job.

  As long as she didn’t remember, maybe he could live with that. Much as he didn’t like to soil his own nest, if she started remembering, he’d have to act even though it would be harder to cover himself
in such a small town.

  But he’d deal with that if it became necessary. In the meantime, he just had to remain one of her friends. He had to find ways to be around her, to listen to her, to make her trust him.

  In case she remembered.

  Somewhere deep inside, much as the possibility frightened him, he hoped she would because then he wouldn’t have to argue with himself anymore. The decision would be made for him; the internal uncertainty would be gone.

  He’d have all the reasons he needed to finish the job, no matter the danger to him.

  But it occurred to him that a little misdirection might be useful. A little scare that would have everyone looking in a different direction. Something that would distract him from the nagging fear that Kylie would remember. Something that would distract everyone else from Kylie.

  Humming, he set about changing his appearance with a wig and ugly cheap sunglasses, then went to get one of the old, unrecognizable cars from the barn where his dead father had left them. All he needed now was to find one little girl walking home from school alone.

  Chapter 1

  Riding into the outskirts of Conard City finally released the awful tension in Kylie Brewer. Her sister, Glenda, was driving, and Kylie had been uneasily aware since they left the hospital in Denver that nothing looked familiar to her. Nothing.

  And yet she had lived in Denver for the last three years. She’d even been treated in the hospital where she had worked part-time. The violent assault that had landed her in the hospital at death’s door had stolen those three years from her, and all she wanted was to see and touch something, anything, that was truly familiar.

  Now she saw familiar sights at last. The Olmstead ranch, green and lush with the spring, caught her eye and filled her with a sense of peace. Cattle and deer both grazed amid the deepening grasses. She wondered vaguely if Mr. Olmstead minded the deer grazing, but couldn’t recall if she’d ever heard a word about it. Another gap in her memory? She hoped not.

  Conard County, Wyoming, was home, and Conard City was as familiar to her as yesterday. Maybe more so, given how much she had forgotten. She had grown up here, and despite all the fear and despair that had dogged her since she awoke in the hospital, now she felt excited, hopeful. At peace, however temporarily.

  “A word of warning,” Glenda said, speaking for the first time in the last fifty miles.

  “What?”

  “I’ve got a houseguest. You remember Connie Parish? She used to be Connie Halloran?”

  “Of course I remember her.” It felt so good to be able to say that.

  “Well, her cousin is on leave from the marines, and he’s in town for a few weeks. I couldn’t see letting him stay at the motel when I have a perfectly good room to let him use.”

  In an instant, all the tension returned to Kylie. “Glenda...I don’t know him.”

  Glenda patted her thigh before returning her hand to the steering wheel. “It’s fine. He’s not a threat. He was overseas when you were attacked. He only got here two days ago.”

  That was supposed to be comforting? Kylie’s hands knotted into fists. Sharing her sister’s house with a stranger? While it was true she had no memory of the attack on her, and no memory of most of the last three years, she didn’t feel at all comfortable around strangers. Even the hospital staff, some of whom had worked with her before she was attacked, had presented a constant sense of threat simply because they were now strangers.

  “They never caught the guy,” she said dully.

  “I’m telling you, it couldn’t have been Coop. You want to check his passport?”

  Kylie glanced at her sister, feeling irritated, noting that Glenda had become sharper since her divorce. Realizing she was probably being unreasonable herself.

  “Look,” said Glenda, “the doctor explained your fear is normal. I understand that. You can’t remember, although I’m not really sure how remembering would help. It’s natural to be uneasy around strangers. That’s what he said. But Coop is Connie’s cousin and he won’t be a stranger for long, okay?”

  Kylie managed a stiff nod. All she had wanted to do was come home and sink into the comforting familiarity of a life she could remember, and now a stranger had been thrown into the mix. She nearly felt betrayed by Glenda. Then she tried to tell herself that meeting a real stranger, one she couldn’t possibly remember, could be beneficial itself because she wouldn’t have to rack her absent memory. Somehow she didn’t quite believe her own argument.

  Turning her head, she stared out at the passing countryside, picking out the ranches she remembered, realizing they were only minutes from driving into town. She had no idea how much or little had changed about Conard City during the years she couldn’t remember, but she guessed she was going to find out. It would probably be almost the same. Little changed as slowly as Conard City.

  The center of town looked pretty much as it always had. There was the courthouse square, surrounded by storefronts, where a handful of retired men regularly met to play checkers or chess at the stone tables in the front park. A few were there now, though the afternoon was still chilly. It was like a snapshot, familiar her entire life long. The picture never changed much, although the faces at the tables did with the turning of the years.

  “Brick sidewalks?” she asked suddenly, noticing.

  “The resort up the mountain put them in. They were going to paint, too, but the landslide halted everything.”

  Small change, an attractive change, but she remembered nothing about a landslide at the resort, although she remembered hearing it was going to be built. Another gap. She wondered if she should bother asking about it. It hardly seemed worth the effort at that moment.

  Everything else remained solidly familiar, including her sister’s driveway and the house. It was the family house, a two-story Craftsman style painted white, left to both of them by their grandparents a few years ago. Their parents had both died years before on holiday in Guatemala. Their tourist bus had been attacked by some bandits.

  But that had been a long time ago. Fifteen years?

  Glenda pulled up to the side door and switched off the ignition. Kylie didn’t move. After a minute, Glenda turned in her seat. “Kylie, if it’s really too much, I’ll ask Coop to move to the motel. I’m sure he and Connie will understand, under the circumstances. But give it a try for me, okay?”

  Kylie managed a stiff nod. “I will.”

  Glenda sighed and reached for the door latch. “This has got to be hell for you, not remembering the last few years. I can’t imagine it. So be patient with me, okay?”

  Kylie felt a rush of warmth for her sister. “If you’ll be patient with me.”

  Glenda smiled. “The house is pretty much the same. I think you’ll remember most of it.”

  All of a sudden Kylie reached out and touched her sister’s arm. “Glenda?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I may have forgotten other things, too. I have no way to know.”

  Glenda nodded. “I guess we’ll see. We’ll talk about it more, but let’s go inside and make you some coffee or something. And you must be hungry by now.”

  Maybe. Her stomach was still knotted with the trepidation that never quite left her anymore, but she forced herself to get out of the car.

  The back steps were concrete, and still had the crumbled corners she remembered. At some point a larger crack had been patched, the concrete a different, lighter gray. The screen door still screeched the same old protest. The glass-topped inner door opened soundlessly on well-oiled hinges.

  One step into the kitchen and she paused, looking around, dragging in the familiar smells with a deep breath. Little had changed indeed. The cabinets had been repainted, but the same white. A few new appliances sat on the counter, but otherwise it carried her instantly back to her childhood. She smiled for the first time in ages. “Do I smell marinara?”

  “I made some last night. If you want, we can have it later. Let me get your suitcase.”

  A suitcase. Sh
e had a whole bunch of possessions from an apartment in Denver, but most of them might as well have belonged to someone else. She’d brought a few keepsakes she remembered along with her, and Glenda had ruthlessly put everything else in storage until Kylie decided what she wanted to do with it all.

  Gratitude toward her sister once again flooded her, and she made up her mind to do her best with this Coop guy in the house. Besides, he’d probably spend an awful lot of time visiting Connie, Ethan and their children. She probably wouldn’t have to see much of him at all.

  Glenda rolled the suitcase inside. “You get your old room,” she said. “It’s always been yours, but you know that.”

  “Thank you.”

  Glenda smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. What are sisters for? Anyway, this house belongs to both of us.”

  Glenda was a few years older than Kylie, which, when they were children, had always given her a superior position. It didn’t feel that way anymore, Kylie realized as Glenda parked the suitcase in one corner of the kitchen and waved her to sit at the old table. The years had at last made them equals...at least to some extent. Kylie definitely felt at a disadvantage with her memory loss, but those were years she hadn’t lived here, anyway.

  Glenda buzzed about. For a woman of thirty-four who’d been through an ugly divorce, she looked good, Kylie thought. Even with the gap in her memory she was barely able to note changes in Glenda. She still wore her light brown hair in a ponytail and moved with the ease of someone who was fit, and still seemed to prefer scrubs to jeans. But then Glenda was a nurse, too, like Kylie.

  A sharp contrast there, Kylie thought with a touch of humor. Kylie herself was moving much more cautiously these days, since parts of her were still healing. Almost there, she assured herself. Soon she wouldn’t feel the hitches of scars from all the knife slashes, or the ache in her ribs from the beating. Soon she’d be almost normal again.

  If she’d ever be normal with a three-year hole in her memory. Three years that had included her own long-awaited training as a nurse-practitioner. Stolen from her by some creep on the street.