And Tom?
Did Nick really want to know the truth about Tom?
Did he need to hear that Tom was stable and that was about it? He provided all the things she’d been missing in her childhood? His life was about order, routine and ties that matched his suits. Where he lacked in excitement, he made up for in stability. He was the kind of guy who would stay the course, no matter what. And she’d almost agreed to marry him for it.
And yet, she now realized that with him she’d be living a different lie. Because she never felt this good in Tom’s arms. Never wanted so desperately to feel his bare skin against hers. Never wanted any man this much. Nick was a safe haven in a storm.
A temporary shelter, a little voice said.
* * *
Nick stood there, holding Sadie, and for a split second in this mixed-up crazy world everything felt right.
He ignored the danger bells sounding off in his head. The ones that threatened to end his career. “We’ll figure this out.”
His cell buzzed. He fished it from his pocket. “Smith.”
He answered the call and put it on speaker. “What’s the word?”
“My source has been able to identify a dozen real estate holdings. There’s a couple you’ll be the most interested in that were bought by a dummy corporation. One of which has had a lot of activity.”
“Let me guess, this company is licensed out of the Caymans,” Nick practically grunted.
“You guessed it. Word has it that Jamison could’ve been in business with Grimes all along.”
“If Jamison was involved with a known criminal, he’d have a lot to lose if someone could identify him.”
“This might explain why they’ve come at Ms. Brooks so hard. It could be more than revenge. He might need to make her disappear to bury his involvement.”
Nick focused on the floor intently as his free hand fisted. “They can’t be thrilled I’m alive, either.”
A sigh came across the line. “I agree, which is why it’s more important than ever to keep you off the radar. I’d initially thought we were dealing with one rogue deputy. Charlie. But, this? A supervisor? To be honest, it scares the hell out of me that one of our own could be in on this.”
“I agree. It also explains how they keep anticipating my moves.”
“They must’ve narrowed down her location. It doesn’t appear that they have Charlie’s file, but anything’s possible. And, now, I believe you’re a target.” His solemn tone sent a shiver down Sadie’s spine.
“Explains why they seemed so eager to run me off the road before,” Nick agreed. “They would have known we were watching her.”
“Another thing bothers me and makes me believe what I’m hearing about Jamison could be true. They didn’t seem particularly bothered that a U.S. Marshal was involved,” Smith said.
“No, they didn’t.” Nick paused. “If he’s involved, it explains how they knew where to look for us.”
“It does make their job easier.”
“What did you say a minute ago about those holdings?”
“I’ve narrowed down two locations as possibilities. One in Houston and one in Dallas. We can’t find any information on these. I can’t send anyone else to check them out. Can’t risk word getting to Jamison.”
Nick took out a small notebook and pen from his back pocket. “I’ll do it. Give me the addresses.”
“1495 Oliver Street in Houston and 2626 Brenner Drive in Dallas,” Smith said.
The Dallas address wasn’t far. He’d look it up on Google and pinpoint the exact location. “Got it.”
“Report back as soon as you know what’s in there.”
“Will do, Chief.”
He ended the call and turned to Sadie. Big green eyes stared back at him. The hurt, loneliness and disbelief he saw there was a knife to his chest. He wanted to take it all away. Make her world safe again.
The only way to do that was to make sure Malcolm Grimes didn’t hurt her again.
Protecting Sadie just became his number one priority.
Chapter 9
Evening had fallen quickly. Now, after everyone had said their good-nights and the house was dark, everything was quiet, save for the crickets chirping outside Sadie’s window in the middle of the night. The stillness reminded her of the lake house. The place had been eerie when she’d first moved from the city. There was no hustle and bustle. No horns honking. No sounds of the L train running. Everything about living in Creek Bend had felt foreign because of her Chicago upbringing.
And yet, she’d felt an almost instant connection to the place. To the people. To the slower pace.
Sadie rolled onto her left side and glanced at the alarm clock again. A whopping three minutes had passed since the last time she’d checked.
She didn’t even bother to close her eyes again. Wouldn’t do any good. They’d just bounce open again, anyway. The winds had kicked up and there was a storm brewing outside.
It was four in the morning. Normally she’d be leaving the house for work at this time. An ache pressed into her chest. The small bakery had become her second home. She missed everything about it. The smell of dough leavening. The first sip of coffee she took once inside the quiet shop. All the little tasks that added up to a productive day.
Working in the bakery made her feel as though she contributed something positive to the world. There was something primal and satisfying about feeding people.
And having a routine. She missed the comfort of a schedule.
The wind outside howled. A gust slammed into the window. Her gasp made Boomer stir. It’s only the wind.
Her morning coffee ritual would have already started. Wouldn’t she kill for a double shot latte with extra foam about now?
She missed the feel of dough in her hands. The weight of it. The warmth.
She always started by mixing and weighing it. Baguettes were first, and then the sourdoughs since they took the longest to ferment. As Claire neared her due date, there had been only one specialty bread on the menu. A mini cranberry panettone.
Another blast of wind rocketed and a dark shadow crossed her window. A tree branch. It’s only a tree branch.
While dough mixed, she’d hand-laminated croissants for the day, rolled out tart shells and mixed muffins and cookies. Some breads needed to be knocked back as much as three times before being left to ferment until just right for scaling. Each loaf had to weigh an equal amount, or they wouldn’t bake at the same rate.
Tap, tap, tap on the window. Raindrops finally fell.
The timer had become her new best friend. She’d learned that small batch bread-baking was so much about timing. Ten minutes early or twenty minutes late made a huge difference in the quality of what came out of the oven. So much in life was about timing.
By now, Sadie would have been preheating the ovens. Helping wake the town with handmade treats after it had been so good to her felt right. After all, there were no strangers in Creek Bend, or so they’d said. At first, she’d thought it was their way of being nosy. She soon realized, they’d meant it. Neighbors popped in to check on her and see if she needed anything. When she’d brought Boomer home, it wasn’t long before baskets of treats with cards started showing up on her doorstep.
Her heart ached for the friendly faces she’d never see again.
Time to move on.
On her agenda?
A new town. A new job. A new start.
If—and it was a big if—Grimes was found and locked up, how long before he got out again? He seemed to have connections in high places. Would he ever stop looking for her? Would his men ever move on?
She doubted it.
Another boom of wind blasted against the window, causing her to jump. Could someone be out there? Lurking? Using the storm as cover?
She slid out of bed and moved to the side of the w
indow, trying to gather enough courage to peek outside. She thought about the guns in the shed. How easy would it be for someone to locate them? Her throat suddenly felt dry, and her heart hammered her ribs. She quieted her thoughts and listened intently.
Had she heard something? No. Couldn’t be. No one was awake. Her imagination was playing tricks on her. No one dangerous knew where Nick’s family lived. And they were all asleep.
She peered through the window. Nothing.
The sound of a board creaking outside her door sent her heart into her throat. Had someone slipped inside the house? Were they sneaking down the hallway? Her pulse kicked up another notch even as she knew her imagination was most likely running wild. What she needed to do was chill out.
If anyone was up, they were probably making a night run to the bathroom, she reasoned. With a pregnant woman in the house, middle-of-the-night bathroom trips weren’t out of the question.
The weather had Sadie skittish, looking for things hiding in dark shadows.
She couldn’t think of pregnancy without picturing Claire. Her belly had been so round the last time Sadie saw her friend. She’d wobbled when she’d walked and said her ankles were lead weights. Was Claire awake feeding her little angel? Changing her diaper? Crying over the loss of her bakery? She probably thought Sadie had died in the fire.
Oh, no.
Claire would be told Sadie was dead. Her heart squeezed thinking Claire would be mourning when she should be celebrating. Was there any way to get word to her friend?
Not without putting her in danger.
Now she really couldn’t go back to bed and close her eyes because she’d picture a sad-faced Claire.
Sadie’s heart ached. Dwelling on it was only making the pain worse. Claire, her baby and the bakery were all part of the past now. Time to pick up and move on. And what about Tom? What did it say that he barely crossed her mind anymore?
When she missed a man’s arms around her, she thought about Nick.
Startled at the realization, Sadie eased out of bed. She needed to get to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
Questions raced through her mind. What was her next move? How long would it take before Grimes found them at the ranch?
They couldn’t stay long. She wouldn’t put his sweet family in danger, no matter how much he insisted. Whether Nick liked it or not, she would move on soon. She’d need to change her appearance again. Maybe she wouldn’t look too bad as a blonde?
And her name.
She would need a new name. Maybe she could pick her own this time? What about Elise? Or Brittany? Or Ann?
She hadn’t taken two steps into the kitchen before Luke poked his head in.
“Everything okay?” he whispered.
“You mean aside from the small heart attack I just had?”
He chuckled before glancing down the hall, and waving someone away. “Doesn’t pay to walk around at night in a house full of law enforcement officers.”
“I’m sorry. Who was that?”
“Reed, Riley, Lucy and, of course, Nick.”
“Oh, great. Now I’ve gone and forced the whole house out of bed. I’m sorry. I was thirsty.” She pulled a glass from the cupboard.
“No trouble. I’ll let everyone know.” He disappeared down the hall before she could thank him.
She poured water and took a sip, not ready to go back to bed. She hadn’t meant to interrupt everyone’s much-needed rest, even if relief washed over her knowing an intruder wouldn’t get through those doors unnoticed.
She didn’t realize she’d pulled out a mixing bowl and located a bag of flour until she looked down. A lamppost streamed light through the kitchen window. It was enough to see what she was doing. Her actions at the bakery had become so routine she could do them in the dark if she needed to. She mixed yeast into the flour, then added butter and water. When she’d beaten them thoroughly, she dumped the contents onto the counter. Pressing her palms into the mix, folding it over, kneading it, brought a sense of sanity and calm over her.
Luckily, the bedrooms were on opposite sides of the house. She could only hope to work quietly enough so as not to disturb anyone again, and least of all Boomer. If he started barking, the whole house would be up faster than she could say quiet.
Sadie pressed her palms into the dough, rolled and repeated until her shoulders burned.
Doing something familiar had her almost forgetting about the scary men chasing her and their ability to find her almost everywhere she went.
She turned on the oven and left the dough to set on the counter.
The feeling of eyes on her gave her a start. She turned to the doorway and caught a glimpse of a male figure filling the door frame. She knew exactly who it was. “Nick? I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t. I couldn’t sleep.” He stood there all shirtless man and muscle, his jeans hung low on narrow hips, one arm cocked in the doorjamb and a grin on his face that made him even more handsome if that were possible. “What are you making?”
His words traveled across the room as soft as feather strokes.
“I got bored. Thought I would do something useful and bake a loaf of bread.” She motioned toward the counter. “That should do it. Needs to sit for a while.”
“Can’t wait,” he said, pulling up a stool and taking a seat. “You’re used to being up all night, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. She thought about how different he was now. Women had lined up in Creek Bend to talk to him. But they’d had no idea what was really underneath the ball cap and sunglasses he’d worn. He’d always stood to the side, awkward. If he hadn’t been so shy she feared he would’ve asked her out on a date. Feared or hoped? The question had to be asked.
She’d almost convinced herself that she didn’t need anyone. Her past certainly had taught her the same lesson. It would be a long time before she’d be ready to spend her Saturday nights with a stranger. And yet, didn’t he awaken a tiny piece of her that she’d tried to ignore far too long?
It would be easy to lie to herself now and say she hadn’t given him a second thought before. But what good would it do? Sure she’d been interested. She knew then as much as she knew now that she would never allow herself to get caught up in feelings for a man. She wasn’t ready.
There’d been a time when she thought she had it all figured out. She’d been dating someone nice, decent and reliable. She and Tom were on track to walk down the aisle. He’d hinted about making the relationship more permanent. She’d made it clear she wasn’t ready. Yet. Plus, she’d figured he was working up the nerve to ask her officially.
A case of mistaken identity had changed everything about her life.
She’d escaped with her life and nothing from her past. Her testimony had put Malcolm Grimes away for what was supposed to be a very long time.
Nick moved behind her and encircled her waist with his arms, covering her hands with his, entwining their fingers.
“You sure I can’t help with anything else?”
She shouldn’t allow him to get this close to her, but her body screamed yes.
Bad idea. She ducked out of his hold and moved to the sink, filling a glass with water.
“After Gran’s celebration tomorrow afternoon, we’ll dig deeper into the case again.”
The mention of family caused the muscles in her shoulders to bunch. Her skin felt as though a thousand tiny ants were biting her. She straightened her back. “Your gran is very sweet, so don’t take this the wrong way. There any chance I can sleep through the festivities?”
* * *
Nick watched Sadie’s movements intently as she folded her arms and hugged them into her chest. “I can tell she likes you if that’s what you’re worried about. Everyone does.”
“Not everyone. Did you see the way your sister Lucy looked at me earlier? What was that
about?”
“She’s protective.” He stopped himself before he explained that they were all most likely shocked beyond hades he’d brought a woman into the house again. Even if it was for professional reasons. “Don’t pay any attention to her. She doesn’t mean anything.”
Sadie looked ready to crawl out of her skin. “I’m sure. But I think I’d be more comfortable leaving you to your family celebration while I take a walk outside with Boomer or something.”
Her cold shoulder made the room feel as if the temperature had dropped twenty degrees in the past second. He thought about her past. How overwhelming a big family can be for anyone and especially someone who’d lost theirs. He needed to ease her into his. “We can figure out something. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—”
“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Really.” She checked a timer and put the ball of dough on a baking sheet. She slid it into the oven, put a pan of water underneath and closed the door. Then she turned off the heat so the dough would rise faster. “What do we do next? We can’t stay here forever. It probably isn’t safe to stay here past tomorrow.”
“I thought about that. Smith sent a text on my throwaway. He believes Grimes is still somewhere in Texas. The locations of the warehouses are perfect for moving merchandise from the Gulf all the way to Canada.”
Sadie covered her mouth.
“Reports are saying he wants to stay close to the Mexican border so he can escape quickly if need be. It’d be easy for him to slip across the border and get lost if he feels the heat. Except we can’t trust intelligence.”
“There any other possible reason for him to be here other than me?”
“Smith isn’t sure. The Dallas warehouse is leased to his company. He might be using it to move...product.”
“What does that mean?”
“Guns, money, illegals. Whatever he needs to move through the country. These guys adapt their business quickly, keeping pace with what’s selling.”
No Reason to Trust Page 32
