Every muscle in his body locked down.
“I was at Christy’s grave earlier...so I think...it must be the same man from the cemetery,” Jill continued, her voice strained. “I thought he was there to rob me, but...”
“He came tonight to kill you.” Brutal words, but if the man had broken into her home with a gun... Hayden’s control snapped. He wrapped his hands around her shoulders again and yanked her close. “I should have been there.”
“Hayden...”
“You just came back. And I could have lost you already.” Hell, no. No. This wasn’t happening. He wouldn’t let it happen. “We’re finding that sicko, and I’m going to make sure that he never hurts you again.”
* * *
THE TRACKS WERE found near dawn, when the streaks of light crept across the sky and showed where the motorcycle had slipped off the road. The guy had been good, Jill would give him that much. He’d hidden the bike behind the dunes to make it harder to spot. The shifting sands had already blown over part of the line that had been left by the motorcycle’s tires.
He must have walked away after he’d ditched the bike, but the sand was perfectly smooth as it led to the water. No sign of his footprints.
He knew those would be gone by dawn.
They’d been searching the area all night. Hayden had made sure she got shoes, and she’d made sure she was involved in the hunt. But despite their efforts, they hadn’t come across the intruder. Maybe that was because he hadn’t been on land. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at those waves.
Hayden was at her side, silent, angry. She could feel the frustration rolling off him.
“This man knows the town,” Jill said. Not just the town...the whole area. He knew the private beaches, he knew the back roads. He knew the water.
They weren’t looking for some drifter.
“The fact that he mentioned Christy, that he came for me...” Jill turned to stare at Hayden. “I think—”
“We’re going to pay a visit to the Anderson family,” he said.
Her stomach tightened. A trip to visit the Andersons had been on her agenda even before this madness had started. Christy’s father had been so angry with her years ago, and when she’d been a teen and their paths had crossed in town, he’d always stared at her with such a cold, hard gaze.
She knew he hated her.
But...
Was he enraged enough to have come after her with a gun?
Chapter Six
The Andersons still lived at 1509 Sea Breeze Way. Jill climbed out of Hayden’s car—his patrol car, not his SUV, he’d switched vehicles since he was on official business—and she slammed the door shut as she stared up at the house. It was clean, perfectly tidy with neatly trimmed hedges and a well-swept sidewalk. The house appeared to have been freshly painted white, and the shutters were a light blue to match the ocean.
From the outside, it looked like such a happy home. Such a normal place.
She knew just how deceiving appearances could truly be. She’d walked up to too many houses—ordinary houses just like the one at 1509 Sea Breeze Way—and found monsters living inside.
“Jill?”
She shook her head and glanced over at Hayden. He was wearing his sheriff’s uniform. The badge shone in the light. They’d been up for most of the night and a line of dark stubble coated his jaw. He looked strong and...sexy.
And she really shouldn’t be noticing that fact right then. She had enough to deal with as it was.
“You okay?” He moved to her side. His head cocked as he studied her. “For a minute there, I could have sworn that you were a million miles away.”
Because she had been. “Sometimes, houses look perfect. Lives look perfect.” She shook her head. “But they aren’t.”
He glanced back at the Andersons’ house.
“In the case file, there were only minimal notes about her family. Peek never interrogated the father or mother. He just got general details from them about Christy, what she was wearing, what she’d done right before her disappearance...” Her words trailed away, and Jill pressed her hands to the top of her thighs. She wore dress pants and a crisp white shirt...what Jill thought of as her FBI gear. A light coat hid her holster. When working a case, it was standard protocol for agents to dress a certain way, and she’d gotten into the habit of almost arming herself with the clothing.
“You think they should have been interrogated?”
A curtain moved inside of the house. Someone was watching them. “Every case that CARD works...we always question the family.” They were the starting point. And often, they were the very first suspects. “The first time I worked a case as an official CARD team member, I was looking for an eight-year-old boy who’d gone missing from his house in Birmingham, Alabama. His mother said that someone had come in during the night and taken him. There were signs of a struggle and his bedroom window was found open.” Her hand lifted and, this time, her fingers pressed to her heart. It had started to ache. “Thirty minutes after we started to interview the mom, we noticed the inconsistencies in her story.”
“Hell.”
She pressed harder against her chest. “We found his body in the shed.”
He caught her hand. Pulled her close. “I’m so sorry, Jill.”
“Monsters,” she whispered, blinking away the tears. “They’re everywhere. I thought I’d join the FBI and save people, but that isn’t happening, and I don’t know what I—” She broke off because the door to 1509 Sea Breeze Way had just opened. “This isn’t the right time,” she said, her voice as soft as the wind blowing against them. “They’re watching.”
Hayden slowly turned toward the house. He moved so that his body was in front of hers, a deliberate position, she knew. A protective one. Some things never change. Jill swiped her hands over her cheeks, but the skin was dry. She hadn’t let the tears fall.
She couldn’t remember the last time they’d fallen.
I didn’t cry when we lost Jessica. I stared at the ambulance with dry eyes. I didn’t cry when I talked to her family. I was just...too numb.
That was how she felt most days. Numb.
But...she didn’t feel numb when Hayden was near her.
“You shouldn’t be sheriff.” The words were angry as they spewed from the man standing in that doorway.
Hayden gave a grim nod. “Hello, Mr. Anderson. Nice to see you, too.”
A grunt came from Theodore Anderson.
Jill slipped to Hayden’s side so that she could study the other man. Theodore Anderson was tall, still fit, but his blond hair had thinned. He was dressed in faded jeans and a loose sweatshirt. The lines on his face were deep, and his lips were pulled down in a frown as he gazed at Hayden.
“You aren’t qualified for the job. I don’t care what kind of war hero crap you pulled overseas,” Theodore snapped. “Your father was a bum, a criminal who deserved exactly what he got, and you have no place—”
Hayden lifted his hand, stopping the guy’s snarled words. “I am the sheriff here, and it would be wise to speak to me with a little more respect.”
Theodore’s face flashed red.
“I know you haven’t had an easy time of things,” Hayden said, voice curt, “but you need to calm yourself down, right now.”
Theodore’s chin jerked up. “What do you want?”
Hayden glanced at Jill, then he looked back at Theodore. “We have some questions for you.”
“Questions? About what?” But Theodore’s gaze had slid to Jill and he stared at her suspiciously. She didn’t see recognition in his stare, not yet, his eyes were narrowed as they locked on her face.
“This FBI agent is following up on Christy’s disappearance,” Hayden said.
He hadn’t told Theodore her name. Why? Did he think he was protecting
her?
She wasn’t going to hide. Jill cleared her throat and stepped forward. “I’m FBI Agent Jillian West.”
And there it was. The recognition, flooding his face and turning his eyes cold and angry in a flash. His jaw locked and he glared at her with pure hate in his eyes. “Get off my property.”
“Mr. Anderson, I’m investigating Christy’s disappearance.” The fact that the joker who’d taken a shot at her had mentioned Christy, well, that had just made her more determined than ever to find out the truth. “I’d like to ask you some questions about her last day with you.”
“Why the hell are you digging that up now? Christy is gone!” His eyes glittered. “Dead and buried in the Jamison Cemetery.”
“Yes, about that,” Hayden murmured as he cocked his head and studied the other man. “When was the last time you were at that cemetery?”
“I go every week,” Theodore fired back. “I make sure my daughter’s grave is clean. That she is taken care of. I didn’t take care of her while she was alive, but I will damn well do it while she’s dead.”
He doesn’t just blame me for Christy’s death. He blames himself, too. Jill could see that.
“And the date of your last visit was...?” Hayden asked.
“Yesterday. I go every Saturday, okay?”
So he’d just admitted to being there, the same day that someone had been watching her. The same day someone tried to run me down.
“Did you happen to see anyone while you were there?” Hayden’s voice was mild.
“Why in the hell are you asking that?” Theodore shook his head. “No, I didn’t see anyone. It was just me, got it? I swept her grave off, I put down fresh flowers and I left.” Theodore took an aggressive step toward them. “FBI special agent,” he said, lips twisting in distaste. “You think I haven’t heard the stories about you, too? You go out there, you get your name in the papers and you—”
“And I try to bring home the children who were taken.” She kept her voice calm with an effort. “I try to find children like Christy who were stolen from their families and I try to bring them back home, safe and sound so that their parents don’t have to go and visit cemeteries every single week.”
* * *
“ARE THEY GONE?” Theodore Anderson demanded.
Kurt peered through the window. He’d eased the curtains back just a bit so he could see outside. “They’re getting into the patrol car now.” Hayden had opened the passenger side door for Jill, and when she passed the sheriff, he noticed the guy’s hand lingered just a moment on her arm.
Still as obsessed with her as ever. Everyone had known that truth in school. Hayden Black loved Jill West. The two had been inseparable. Until Hayden walked away from Jill. Most folks still didn’t even know he’d left her. But Hayden had gone off to be all he could be, and Jill...
FBI special agent Jill West. “She just wants to help,” he said, feeling sad for her. For them all.