Stormy Haven

All of the pain was unforgettable, but the face of her shooter had disappeared into a dark corner of her mind.

Enough!

She pushed the sheets off and got dressed, then found her flashlight in case the power went off, which was more than likely in this stream of storms.

The guests had been adequately warned and were prepared for a power outage, and they’d also been informed about Jonna’s attack. The sheriff had advised them to be cautious and aware of their surroundings. Most of them already were, considering the Shoreline Killer. In addition, her guests were outraged on Jonna’s behalf.

It was well past midnight when she made her way to the expansive living area and found Ian by the fireplace, stoking the embers. She wasn’t surprised to see him. He’d brought them back to life, the orange glow of the flames bouncing off his sturdy form. He stared at the fire, his expression troubled.

Jonna momentarily averted her gaze to the windows, but only darkness stared back through the panoramic glass as an eerie wail threatened to keep her guests shivering and awake in their rooms. She wasn’t worried about complaints from the guests come morning. It was all part of the package—the reason they kept coming back every year. For the thrill of it.

As she watched Ian and the blazing hearth, Jonna let herself listen to the crashing waves pounding the shore—they were like past mistakes beating her soul.

Earlier in the day, the sheriff had taken both her and Ian into the substation at Windsurf to look at mug shots online, an exercise that had sent a throbbing pulse of tension, anxiety and pain straight through her brain.

And it hadn’t let up all day, even when they’d come back, and she’d busied herself with her chores at the lodge while questions about who had tried to kill her today consumed her thoughts.

There was a chance it was connected to her past, in which case she should contact Gil, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. She didn’t want the nightmare to have followed her here. Why couldn’t she live in peace here in Washington?

She felt like her life was beginning to unravel.

Again.

Fortunately, she had employees—DiAnn, Lisa and Kelsey—who were amazing with the guests and seemed to love the lodge as much as Jonna. No matter what she had to deal with in her personal life, she knew she could count on them to keep the lodge running smoothly. They were a real Godsend. She didn’t know what she would do without them, especially now.

The sheriff believed that women’s lives could be at greater risk if Jonna’s attacker was the serial killer who’d already taken five women along the coast. Her situation would certainly fit the serial killer’s pattern—the victims had all been out jogging the beach when they were abducted and killed. From now on, Jonna would carry Max with her everywhere. Living in Windsurf, she’d slowly allowed herself to pretend everyone could be trusted and that she was completely safe. She’d wanted to forget her life in Miami ever existed, but it wasn’t to be. Cold reality had slapped her in the face when the man pointed a weapon at her and fired, searing the image on her mind to go with the trauma from Miami.

Twin images now impressed in her mind—the most recent one sharp, while the old one was frustratingly fractured.

And into that clear picture stepped Ian—all muscle, strength and sharp, able-bodied moves—to save the day. Save her life.

That image also lingered in her thoughts all day.

She hung back watching him now as he finished stoking the flames in the massive fireplace, his jaw working as if he were as disturbed as Jonna. Finally, he eased his chin up and lifted his gaze to meet hers.

He’d known she was there?

Of course, he would. After what she’d seen today, she knew the man was trained to be aware of his surroundings. She had to find out about that training.

The other guests were asleep, or trying to sleep in this storm. She approached Ian, a thousand questions spinning through her mind. Questions she’d had to keep to herself all day in the presence of the sheriff or deputies or guests.

But now they were alone. Truly alone.

“Something bothering you?” he asked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Yes! Yes, there’s something bothering me. She steadied her breathing as she drew near, but not too near. Not too close to this man. “I have a few questions for you.”

He jerked his head back slightly. Oh, yes. Now she had his attention.

“Ask away. I’ll answer if I can.”

She would have preferred if he’d said he had nothing to hide.

He replaced the poker. Stuck his hands in his pocket and leaned against the wall near the fireplace, looking ever so calm, cool and collected. And utterly handsome. Unbidden, warmth flooded her belly, and that infuriated her. She couldn’t be attracted to him.

Add to that, had she really stooped to questioning a guest? “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me, but I’m just a little freaked out.”

He gently took her shoulders and guided her over to the big overstuffed sofa. “Sit here. Relax.”

He joined her on the immense plush furniture.

“You have skills,” she said. “I noticed that today. You had told me you were a security consultant. I had thought IT—information technology.”

He huffed out a laugh to go with his grin. “I used to be with the United States Diplomatic Security Service.”

Slowly she nodded, understanding so much more now. “Used to be?”

His brow furrowed and shadows darkened his blue irises. “I protected a diplomat on my last assignment. A foreign dignitary visiting the US.” He paused as if considering his next words. “Now I’m a private security consultant.”

Jonna sensed that a lot hung between those last two sentences. Ian held back.

“A private security consultant. What is that exactly? You mean a bodyguard or a private investigator?”

His features twisted up as he contemplated his reply. “Maybe a little of both, but it’s less about muscles and guns. More about identifying potential danger and stopping it before it can happen.”

“I see. That makes sense. I’m sure that’s probably what you did with the DSS. Keeping diplomats secure is more about brains over brawn. Planning and preventing.”

“Right. Preventing rather than countering an attack. But we’re thoroughly trained to do both if necessary.”

She didn’t doubt that one bit after what she’d seen today. Regret poured from his eyes. What had happened?

He averted his gaze, staring into the flames. “I’m here for obvious reasons—to watch the storms—and maybe a few not-so-obvious,” he added.

When his gaze lifted to meet hers, she knew his words held a hidden meaning. What was it? His intense regard drew heat up her spine. Was she reading more into his words than she should? “I...uh...” Could she be more of an idiot? He hadn’t been talking about her, as in he was here for her or for them. There was no them. What was it about Ian that had her thinking along those lines?

Oh, I’m in trouble. I’m in big, big trouble.

She buried her attraction. What was wrong with her? She didn’t know the man. Didn’t know whom she could trust. She didn’t know if today she’d faced off with Washington’s serial killer or...or...if her past had caught up with her.

Please, God, let it not be so!

* * *

He’d been perfectly fine with her making her own assumptions about what a security consultant would do. Except now Ian had said more than he’d wanted. Talking about his previous job this much brought on anguish.

Admiration flickered in her gaze before she shuttered it away. “Well, your previous job training certainly explains why you were able to take that guy down today. At least until the ocean interfered. So what happened? Why did you leave your job to become a private security consultant?”

Ian pushed up from the sofa to stoke the fire again, though it needed none of his attention. He tried to shut out the unsettling noise of the wind, with its eerie wail. Would this storm ever end? He might be concerned about the targets he and Jonna presented by sitting in front of the big panoramic windows, except he knew no one could survive on the beach at the moment.

He sensed her eyes on his back, just as he had sensed her watching him earlier. Despite her appreciation of what he’d done for her, she was wary of him, especially now. A little truth wouldn’t hurt. She deserved that after all she’d been through. Although he hadn’t wanted to have to share that particular truth.

“Ian,” she said softly. “You don’t have to tell me. I shouldn’t have pried.”

“No, it’s okay.” Was it? “It’s not something I like to talk about. Something bad happened on my watch.” Somebody died.

“And they fired you?”

Needles pricked over his skin. “No. They wanted to transfer me. I could have moved to a different department.” Where he wouldn’t be directly responsible for protecting someone.

Why was he telling Jonna this? It would only wipe clean the admiration he’d seen in her eyes moments ago. He shouldn’t care about that. He couldn’t help himself. He glanced over at her on the sofa, still watching him, then the fire suddenly intrigued her.

“But you didn’t want to transfer?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to explain why. I can see in your eyes that you hold yourself responsible for what happened. I understand about that—” her downturned expression spoke volumes “—but you shouldn’t blame yourself.”

“How can you understand?”

“I guess that understand was the wrong word. Maybe I can’t truly understand what you’ve experienced, and—” She cut herself off abruptly. “Listen to me. I sound like a therapist.”

If he could get her talking more about her background, he could potentially ease into the topic of the Miami criminals who might be after her. He wanted her to bring up the topic herself. If he broached it, he’d have to admit the real reason he was here, and he couldn’t see that going well. From what Uncle Gil had said, and also from what he knew about Jonna, she would be furious about the fact Uncle Gil had hired Ian for protection detail. Maybe even shocked her old boss would hire Ian, of all people. Ian had been surprised himself.

Regardless, he couldn’t risk her barring him from the Oceanview Lodge. Yes, in the worst case, he could watch over her from a distance. Still, that would be more difficult.

Ian put the poker where it belonged, but he remained near the fire. Jonna intrigued him in ways she shouldn’t. He didn’t want to be intrigued. However, he did want to come completely clean about why he was here. If Uncle Gil would just call him back, maybe the man would have some advice on how Ian could tell Jonna the truth without setting off her temper. But Uncle Gil hadn’t responded to his voicemail. He should have heard back by now. That disturbed him.

She rose and joined him by the fire. So much for keeping his distance. She didn’t ask more questions, seeming content enough with his answers. She had her own secrets, and he had his. But given today’s events, it wasn’t a good idea to keep his reasons for being here to himself much longer.

Come on, Uncle Gil. Call me back. Email me. Text me. Something...

The only person who’d tried to reach him today was Patrick, a good friend from his previous job, still working for the DSS. Patrick called every week or so, just to check up on Ian. He’d keep trying until he heard from Ian. But he didn’t have time to call him back just yet. He was in the thick of this now.

The thing was, he couldn’t be sure that the man who had shown up had anything to do with the women who were abducted, or if he had to do with the danger to Jonna from Miami. He would stick even closer and be more vigilant if she’d let him.

Tendrils of dread slithered over him as the anguish from his past assignment as a DSS agent filled his thoughts. His biggest failure had cost someone’s life. Turned his upside down.

He couldn’t fail again.

Jonna’s life could depend on him.

Uncle Gil, what have you gotten me into?

FOUR

Back in her room, Jonna grabbed Chop Suey to snuggle beneath her comforter. The beast of a cat squirmed out of the covers and found a spot on the bed—his choice. When she’d first gotten him as a kitten, he’d jumped into her plate of Chop Suey, hence the name.

“It always has to be your idea, doesn’t it?” She tucked the comforter under her chin. “Suit yourself.”

For the first time she could remember, Jonna wished for a storm to end. The unceasing cacophony of crashing waves only stirred up the images from today like a reel-by-reel play. Vivid cinematography played across her mind.

A man pointed a gun at her, intending to kill her.

Add to that, that scenario had happened twice in her life. She wanted to know who that man was on the beach today.

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours. She even kept the cat awake. Eventually, Chop Suey jumped off the bed and found somewhere else to sleep. When Jonna woke up, it surprised her that she’d finally fallen asleep, but something had woken her.

What was it?

She remained still and listened.

It was quieter outside now.

The wailing gusts had moved on to torment another innkeeper up the coast. Another storm would replace it within the next few hours. Still, even now, sporadic gusts buffeted the cabin. The door creaked.

Probably nothing. Chop Suey didn’t stir.

If she had known she would have to worry about the past, she might have gotten a dog. As it was, if she tried that now then Chop Suey would probably chase away any canine Jonna brought home.

Jonna grabbed her trusty Sig. She crept to the door and peeked through the peephole. She had a front entrance that didn’t connect to the lodge to give her more privacy in case she ever went on, say, a date. Right. Through the hole, she saw nothing but darkness. She switched on the porch light. No one suspicious lurked near the door. She flipped the light back off.

Another creak.

This had to be the logs of the cabin shifting, but Jonna would take no chances after today.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

The window this time. She rolled her shoulders and approached the window that faced the ocean. Now she wished she had closed the mini blinds and curtains.

Standing against the wall, she peered out and gasped, nearly screaming. She stepped back and pressed herself against the wall. She’d seen a shadow, the silhouette of a man. Hadn’t she? Heart palpitating, she lifted her weapon and peered out again.

A tree branch morphed into the shape she thought she saw, then scratched the window. She was becoming entirely too paranoid. She couldn’t function if she couldn’t get any sleep.

In the meantime, she shut the mini blinds and tugged the curtains closed. Set the Sig aside and rubbed her arms. Pulling on a hoodie, she sat at her desk. It was much too late to call her old boss Gil, and besides, she dreaded that call with everything in her. But she had to find out if there had been more chatter.

What specifically had the chatter been when her name had come up? So she opened up her laptop, found his old email address—the one she hadn’t used in three years—and typed up her question.

But she didn’t send it.

This couldn’t be about Florida. The guy thought he’d killed her—just a cop snooping around in a warehouse. She hadn’t been targeted specifically.

Or had she?

She didn’t know anything that would make her, personally, a target. There was no reason for anyone to think about her, much less say her name.

Jonna folded her arms on the desk and pressed her head into them. She was lying to herself. She tried to forget what she knew, which was very little. She suspected that not everyone involved in the human-trafficking ring had been taken down.

The mayor had wanted the case closed quickly. So the powers that be had conducted the raids and arrested the people involved. But not everyone had been caught in the net. Jonna had suspected someone higher up had been pulling the strings and had managed to avoid capture.

She was looking into that when someone had shot her and left her for dead.

Why would someone want to target her again? If they did, that would only bring attention to the earlier attempt to murder her and the motive behind it. No, this simply couldn’t be about Miami. She willed it to be so. Another lie. When had her will had anything to do with it? Jonna sent the email to Gil. She could trust him to be honest with her. He’d been good to her. Let her slip into obscurity quietly, the way she wanted.

If she learned one thing from today—it was that she was out of practice. At least she’d been jogging every day, but she was getting rusty to let that man pacing her get the upper hand.

She probably needed to hit the shooting range again, a place she’d avoided for much too long. She’d been foolish to think she could just walk away, start a new life. But it had been so very tempting, and Jonna hadn’t wanted to work in law enforcement anymore. She wanted to live a peaceful life running a lodge on the Washington coast, and thanks to her aunt Debby’s help, she’d been able to do just that.

Jonna had grown up in Coldwater Bay. Her aunt had raised her and her three siblings after their parents had been killed in a tragic accident. She’d been restless after her parents had passed away. They had been good people who were making a difference in the world when they’d died.

Jonna couldn’t make sense of their deaths or her own life—what she should do with it. Aunt Debby had been the one to encourage Jonna when she said she needed a complete change of scenery. So Jonna went off to school in Miami. Maybe she’d ended up on another coast, but it was a coast at the opposite end of the country with completely different scenery and culture.

There she’d attended the police academy, following in her mother’s footsteps in law enforcement. She ended up working for ICE. It was brutal work—the horrors of humanity came to light every day—but she was proud that she made a difference in the lives of others.

At least that’s what she’d told herself. Hadn’t her parents been about making a difference? They would have wanted no less for her.

But in the end, she’d run from it all. Now she was glad to be back and closer to her siblings. Sadie, a marine biologist, and Cora, an underwater archaeologist, had taken the road of science after their father’s example, and Quinn went into law enforcement like Jonna and their mother. He was a DEA agent. Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen Quinn in years. He was on a deep undercover assignment—he’d dropped off the face of the earth. She hoped he was okay. She knew from personal experience just how dark the criminal world could be.

Drowsiness finally claimed her with only maybe a half an hour before twilight. But Jonna would grab what sleep she could. She slipped back into bed and Chop Suey joined her this time, snuggling up against her back. I feel loved.

She smiled, but with the thought of love came the sudden sense of loss, of what she was missing. Sadness pricked her heart. Of course Ian’s pensive blue gaze, strong jaw and diplomatic security service skills had to fill her thoughts.

Now she would never get that sleep.

* * *

Ian had learned long ago through rigorous training how to survive on little sleep. Good thing. After the intense conversation with Jonna, his mind wouldn’t shut off. And when the storm died down—just a reprieve before the next storm bore down on them—he knew what he could do to put his time to the best use.

He’d donned dark clothing and climbed out the window. Jonna had a night clerk at the desk in case the guests needed anything, but the door remained locked after certain hours. He didn’t want to raise suspicions or alarm by leaving that way. He slipped out the window, careful to remain near the lodge so he wouldn’t stumble too near the cliff’s edge.

What a perfect place to watch the winter storms. Icy cold bit his cheeks. He couldn’t stay here long. But he might as well walk the perimeter. Ramp up his task of watching over Jonna.

Now, if only Uncle Gil would call him back. Maybe the man was in the middle of a serious investigation and hadn’t had the chance. But still, it wasn’t like him not to check in.

Clouds rushed quickly across the sky, and silver moonlight broke through, making the whitecaps look almost fluorescent.

Wow.

He could watch that forever.

But he was on a mission. Ian tugged out his weapon, prepared to use it. His footfalls couldn’t be heard over the waves or the gusts of wintry wind. If he couldn’t be heard, neither could Jonna’s attacker should he try to approach at night.

Would the man return? He’d asked the sheriff’s department if they could put a deputy on watch at the lodge, just to keep Jonna and her guests safe until the threat had been neutralized. But they were already pressed for personnel and couldn’t spare anyone.

After he’d walked the length of the lodge and around the front—the part facing away from the ocean—he spotted Jonna’s cabin. Though connected to the lodge, it stood off on its own. An easy target for someone who knew where to look.

Ian waited in the shadows of the woods and let his gaze search the area beyond the parking lot. A copse of trees stood between the lodge and the road, thick on that side of the building. Someone could get close to her that way if not through these woods on the south side. He didn’t like it. Ian gave a wide berth as he walked around her cabin, hoping, praying to God he wouldn’t find anyone.

Or if someone truly had come to go after her again, that God would help him stop them. He wondered if it would feel like redemption, to succeed in this case. But success, saving Jonna, wouldn’t bring Serena back.

His soul cracked a little. He couldn’t let the past distract him if he wanted to protect Jonna.

God, help me. Help me forgive myself.

Steeling himself against the onslaught of anxiety, Ian closed in on her cabin, then hesitated. A nuance, a sensation, prickled over his skin.

Someone else was here.

He waited in the shadows of a large evergreen, the branches and needles scratching the cabin window with each gust of an angry ocean breeze. Sea spray blew over his skin, even from this height.

And still he waited.

That sensation was unmistakable. He’d learned to listen to it and it had never failed him.

Fifteen yards out, another dark figure in the night also wearing black moved catlike toward the cabin.

Jonna’s cabin.

His breath came hot and fast, but Ian steadied it, reminding himself to stay focused and calm. He had to end this tonight. As the figure crept toward the cabin, keeping to the shadows, Ian waited for the right moment. No longer a DSS agent, he couldn’t officially arrest anyone, but any citizen could stop someone from committing a crime and hold them for the authorities.

The creeper approached and positioned himself in front of the door. He was hunched over, his back to Ian, who could only assume the man intended to pick the locks.

Jonna was in danger.

Ian acted on instinct and, remaining in stealth mode, rushed forward, then snuck up behind him. His thick, black coat and hood left no exposed area. Not that that mattered. Ian didn’t have to see skin to know where to thrust his weapon.

He lifted the Glock and jabbed the muzzle into the base of the man’s skull. The perpetrator instantly stiffened.

“Hold it right there.” Ian forced the threatening words out through gritted teeth, remembering earlier in the day when someone had tried to kill Jonna. Was this that man?

Ian’s nerve-endings prickled, aware the trespasser prepared to make a move.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll put a bullet in your brain before you can move.” Ian stepped a few feet back, putting space between him and his target so the man couldn’t go on the offensive with a head butt or a kick. “Now, slowly back away from the door.”