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She was stunned into silence.
He took a step closer. “Talk to me, Hannah. Tell me why you’re in a dead woman’s apartment at night.” He was unnerving her with his steady blue gaze. She was determined to hold it, not to look away and give him the upper hand.
“What makes you think I believe anything happened to Amy?”
“I know you, Hannah. You don’t let things lie. Never did. That’s why you were good. One of the best. That’s why you’re here, tonight, isn’t it? You’re looking for something.”
She pushed the hair back from her face in an effort to clear her head. Rex stepped even closer. The air crackled between them. She edged backward, toward the phone. Blood drummed in her ears.
“What has any of this got to do with you, Rex?”
“I’m looking for answers. Like you. I don’t believe Amy’s death was an accident.”
Hannah took another step back toward the phone and reached behind her for the receiver.
He was on her in an instant, had her pinned up against the wall, her heart jackhammering against her rib cage. He reached and took the receiver from her hand. Placed it firmly back in the cradle. “No cops.”
She was afraid now. This man was no stranger to attack. He moved like a black jungle cat and had the same power. Hannah swallowed, her throat tight. She tried to speak. “What do you want from me, Rex?”
He held her, up against the wall, a brutally intimate embrace. He leaned in, placing his mouth between her fall of hair and her ear. “More than you’ll ever know, McGuire.” The hot whisper, painfully seductive, snaked through her. A serpent of unwanted desire.
He reached up, slowly took a handful of her hair, gently twisted it through gloved fingers and let it fall back onto her shoulder. It was an achingly intimate gesture. She began to tremble inside. Emotion pricked hot behind her eyes. Damn him. Damn this man from her past. He was pulling the threads of her life apart.
“Come.” He took her wrist, led her to a chair. She was powerless.
“Sit.”
He faced her, seated on the coffee table, his knees almost touching hers. “You gate crashed my party, Hannah. You play by my rules now. That means no police.”
“I…I don’t understand. Who are you, Rex? What’s going on?”
“I found something. Something that makes me think Amy Barnes got herself into trouble. It may have gotten her killed.”
Confusion spiraled through her brain. “You don’t mean murder?”
“I think she was sticking her nose where it wasn’t wanted.”
“What…what did you find?”
Again he sidestepped her question. “But if you take this to the cops, you’ll get nowhere. No answers. The police are not going to help you. Trust me on this.”
Trust? She’d trusted Rex Logan once before. She thought she’d known this man. She looked at him now; he was a stranger. A dangerous one. And the cops were his Achilles’ heel. Why?
“And if I do go the cops, what happens to you? You going to try and stop me?”
“You’ll tie me up in bureaucratic red tape, that’s what. Then it’ll be too late.”
“For what?”
He dragged his hands through his hair and blew out a stream of frustration. “Christ, Hannah, why’d you have to walk into this?”
“What, exactly, have I walked in to, Dr. Logan? Who the hell are you?”
He stared at her, assessing.
“Look, either you tell me what the hell is going on or I go to the RCMP detachment right now.”
He stood up, paced, turned to face her. “I can’t tell you. It’s classified.”
She pushed herself to her feet. “What do you mean you can’t tell me? What do you mean ‘classified’?”
He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “Hannah, work with me on this. Trust me.”
“Work with you? Trust you? You won’t tell me what the hell is going on. You won’t tell me who you are, why you’re sneaking around like a thief and you expect me to work with you?”
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
“Screw you, Logan. I had every right to come here.” She pushed past him and stalked from the apartment, slammed the door behind her.
Hannah stepped out onto the pedestrian walkway into the clean night air still shaking with adrenaline. She’d done it again. Fled. Damn him. She looked back up at the second floor. Amy’s apartment was once again in darkness.
Rex lifted the blind slightly with the back of his hand and looked down into the street to watch her go. He saw her stop, turn and look back up at the window. Instinctively he shifted farther back into the dark shadows. Her hair shimmered pale gold in the lamplight, like an angel’s.
Blast.
Hannah was not working her way into his investigation, she had crashed slap-bang into the middle of it. So much for trying to stay out of her way while he was in White River.
And after finding what he had in Amy’s apartment, Hannah could be at risk if she insisted on digging. If his suspicions were correct, Hannah’s curiosity may already have landed her in hot water. Very hot water.
Oh, the bittersweet irony.
He’d walked out of her life six years ago to keep her safe.
Now he could not walk from her. This time he would have to stay close to keep her from harm.
She was sticking her nose into the business of people who played for keeps. She had no idea what she was up against. She would need his help. She would need his protection. And he needed to make sure she didn’t blow his cover by going to the cops.
He watched her turn and stride down the dimly lit street. He watched the sway of her hips.
It was that same purposeful stride that had caught his attention in Marumba. The same sway that had sparked fire in his groin.
Yes, she needed his protection, but who would protect him from her?
He’d made a mistake falling for her once. He wasn’t doing much better the second time around. The woman was a drug. He’d already let himself slip.
This must be his retribution.
Then his pulse quickened.
Rex saw a hooded figure step out from under the cover of the dark portico across the walkway. Whoever it was began following Hannah toward the festive heart of White River village.
Chapter 4
The early-morning air was crisp, the clear sky pale and colorless, yet to be kissed by the sun. Within the hour it would burst over the mountain in a crashing symphony of gold chasing the chill into valley shadows until evening.
Hannah knew it would be a glorious August Saturday. It made the bizarre and sinister events of last night all the more incongruous. Was it really possible Amy had been murdered? What did Rex Logan have to do with it? What did he find in Amy’s apartment that they’d all missed? What was he really doing in White River?
She couldn’t go and talk to Staff Sgt. Fred LeFevre. Not yet. He’d laugh her out of the office. She needed to learn more from Rex.
But right now, this time was hers. She crouched down to tighten the laces of her runners. She would do hills today. She needed a good workout to clear the scuzz from her sleep-deprived brain and ease the kinks from her body.
Hannah broke into a slow run, rhythmically sucking the cool air down into her lungs and blowing it out into crisp clouds of vapor. She followed the trail from her condo down around the lakeshore to the point where White River flowed under the Callaghan Road bridge.
She jogged under the bridge, picking up one of the gravel trails that snaked through the park and up into the Moonstone foothills.
Her breathing was hard, deep and rhythmic now. She felt strong, in control. She found her pace as the sun peeked over the ridge and spilled suddenly into the valley, its warmth immediately noticeable on her back.
She had the trails to herself this morning. She could feel her body working, smooth, like an engine, warmth pulsing with each heartbeat through her limbs. The cold air was rough against the back of her throat. It felt good.
She slowed slightly, her body switching gears as the trail climbed into the trees. Her feet were cushioned as gravel gave way to spongy pine needles and fallen leaves. As she entered the woods, the trees strangled the morning sunshine off into cool dank shadows.
All Hannah could hear now was the sound of her own hard, steady breathing and White River, swollen and raging in the distance.
A crash in the undergrowth stopped her dead.
The noise was just ahead. Brush cracking.
Her brain identified the sound as her body screamed to flee.
But she held her ground. Hannah had been in these mountains long enough to learn not to run from a bear.
She started, one foot behind the other, backing down the trail, very slowly, just as the large ursine beast crashed through the undergrowth ahead.
It lumbered onto the trail. Hannah caught her breath. It was massive, well on its way of achieving its hibernation weight. She was used to seeing bears in White River but the primal awe at the sight of such a beast never left her.
The bear caught wind of Hannah and surged up onto its hind legs, opening and closing its mouth and swaying its head.
It was trying to get a better scent. Hannah kept backing away slowly.
Stay calm, give it space. She ran through a mental bear encounter checklist as she backed off.
She was so tightly wound she almost screamed when two little cubs scampered out of the trees in front of her, across the trail and into the brush on the other side. The big sow dropped to all fours, chomped her mouth and huffed at Hannah in warning before lumbering into the brush after her cubs.
She could feel the blood thudding through the arteries at her neck with each rapid pound of her heart. Filled with exhilaration and the adrenaline of fear, Hannah laughed out loud in release.
She waited until she could no longer hear the undergrowth crushing under the clumsy weight of the bruins before she again broke into a run.
But she was uneasy now. She couldn’t regain her stride. She kept glancing over her shoulder and hearing sounds in the trees, in the shadows.
She thought she could hear the thud of feet in the soft ground behind her. She felt like the hunted must feel, her senses heightened, nerves strung like a bow.
She heard the thud of feet again. And she felt a presence.
She stopped, swiped her damp brow with the back of her hand. Listening. Silence. Nothing.
Then a sharp crack in the brush.
Hannah uncoiled into a sprint, cut onto a trail that led to the suspension bridge, a lifeline over White River that would lead her to the village, people. Fear burned with cold air in her chest as she sprinted through the trees. Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurring her vision. She ran onto the bridge. Slats of wood bounced under her weight throwing her momentarily off balance. Water raged below. She stumbled, grabbed the cable railing, and made her way across to the wooden ramp that led off the bridge. She hit solid land, sprinted over a mound and turned sharply to her right. And ran straight into him.
He reeled back under the force of the collision, grabbing her shoulders in an effort to steady them both.
“Hannah. What is it?”
She pulled away from him and bent over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, the nausea of exertion rising in her stomach. “Rex…you…startled…me.” Her words came out in rasping gasps.
“Talk to me. What spooked you?”
Still bent over, panting, she looked up at him. He was also in workout gear. His dark hair hung tousled and damp over his brow. Was he chasing her?
“Nothing…bear and her cubs. I lost my head.”
He raised a brow. He didn’t believe her.
“Someone was following you.” He said it so matter-of-factly. As if he already knew. He scanned the trees on the far side of the river. “How long do you think he’s been watching you?”
“What?” She stood upright, hand pressed tight into the pain of the stitch at her waist. “What do you mean ‘how long’? Why would someone be ‘watching’ me?”
“Keep it down.”
She glanced back into the woods, following his gaze. He was making her really uneasy.
He put a hand on each shoulder. “You’re not safe, Hannah, not until I get to the bottom of this.” He looked into her eyes. She felt suddenly self-conscious. She caught the wild strand escaping from her ponytail and brushed it behind her ear.
“Listen to me, you need protection.”
She attempted a laugh. It came out hollow. “And who’s going to protect me? You? The guy who breaks into apartments?”
“Damn right I am.”
She pulled away from him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Hannah, someone followed you when you left Amy’s apartment last night.”
She closed her eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Her brain could no longer cope. It was in total overload.
“Hannah, we have to talk.” He looked around, then into her eyes. “But not here. Come, let me buy you breakfast.”
Coffee, she needed coffee. She needed space. He was crowding her, invading her life.
