Читать книгу Colton's Deep Cover - Эль Кеннеди - Страница 8

Chloe had never been more nervous in her entire life as she drove through the double gates of the Colton ranch. The main house was visible in the distance, a large homestead that managed to combine the stately elegance of a manor with the rustic charm of a ranch spread. It wasn’t the size or beauty of the home that made her anxious—she was no stranger to expensive accommodations—but the homey, inviting feel of it. The yellow glow seeping from the windows, the tire swing hanging from one of the trees in the front yard. It was the kind of place she’d always envisioned raising a family in, and the thought brought a sharp pain to her heart.

Her hands trembled on the steering wheel of the used Toyota hatchback she’d purchased last week. Why on Earth had she agreed to have dinner with the Coltons tonight? When Derek had invited her to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner last week, she’d had no problem politely declining. So why had it been so hard to say no to Sawyer’s request? Why had she allowed a tow-headed kid to break down her defenses?

The thought of Sawyer Colton deepened the ache in her chest. Lord, that kid was a real charmer, not to mention precocious, sweet and wise beyond his years. But every time he came around, which was often, she experienced a wave of longing so powerful that tears stung her eyes. She liked to imagine that her own boys would have grown up to be exactly like Sawyer.

Focus, Chloe.

Choking down a lump of sorrow, she continued up the driveway, but halfway to the main house another fit of anxiety rippled through her and her foot came down on the brakes. A minute. She just needed a minute to collect her composure.

Flipping down the sun visor, she studied her reflection, inspecting her left cheek. Makeup looked good. No hint of the four-inch scar beneath it.

Still, simply knowing the imperfection existed made her feel self-conscious as hell.

“You think you’re so beautiful, don’t you, Chloe? Pretty, pretty Chloe.”

A tornado of pain, fury and bitterness spiraled through her as Felix’s cruel voice echoed in her head.

“All those men flirting with my beautiful wife. You liked it, didn’t you, pretty Chloe? You like feeling beautiful?”

Hot tears pricked her eyelids. She tried desperately to block the memories, but they barreled into her mind like a freight train. Felix had been so enraged that night, yet again blaming her for something beyond her control.

“Let’s see if men still find you attractive now, shall we?”

A phantom burst of agony exploded in her face, mimicking everything she’d felt when the blade of that scalpel sliced into her cheek.

Sucking in a ragged breath, Chloe forcibly shoved the horrific memory from her mind. She couldn’t fall apart right now. Not in her boss’s driveway, for Pete’s sake.

Exhaling slowly, she moved the gearshift to Drive and steered toward the main house. After she’d parked the car, she grabbed her purse and the apple pie she’d picked up at the bakery in town, then climbed the large porch and rang the bell.

Footsteps thudded. A second later the front door swung open and an attractive redhead appeared before her. Chloe instantly recognized Emma Colton, Derek’s younger sister and a field agent with the FBI. They’d met when Emma had interviewed Violet Chastain at the clinic after the actress’s attack.

“Amelia,” Emma said, sounding genuinely happy to see her. “We’re thrilled to have you.” She opened the door wider. “Come in.”

Chloe stepped into the spacious front hall and shrugged out of her coat. Emma took it from her, hanging it in the closet by the door.

“I brought dessert,” Chloe said, holding out the pie dish. “Sawyer mentioned something about brownies, but I figured I’d bring something, anyway.”

“Thanks. That was really sweet of you,” Emma answered with a smile.

Chloe glanced around, admiring the wood-paneled walls and pretty oil-painted landscapes hanging in the space. “You have a lovely home.”

Emma grinned. “Technically you should be saying that to Derek. He owns the ranch now.”

“Really? I had no idea.”

“He doesn’t advertise it. My brother is a doctor first and a rancher second, but Mom and Dad left him the homestead in their will because Derek’s always been the most responsible Colton in the bunch.” Emma anticipated Chloe’s question before she could voice it. “Don’t worry, there’s no hidden resentment or anything—I think Gunnar and Tate were as relieved as I was that we didn’t have to take on the responsibility of this place.”

Emma led her into the great room, which featured endless ceilings, comfortable brown leather couches and a stone fireplace. Derek’s teenage sister, Piper, sat on one of the sofas, holding a blond-haired toddler in her arms. On the floor, Derek’s brother Tate was sprawled on the thick rug next to a second toddler. Although the two little boys were identical, they clearly had their own distinct personalities—the one on the couch was content to sit calmly in Piper’s arms, while the terror on the floor busied himself with a set of colorful blocks, shrieking in delight each time Tate leaned over to tickle him.

“Violet Chastain’s twins,” Emma said, noticing Chloe staring. “We’re babysitting Mason and Hudson tonight so Violet and Gunnar can have some alone time at the cabin.”

Chloe tore her gaze from the adorable little boys, ignoring the rush of longing that filled her belly. She focused on Tate, who greeted her with a warm smile. “Hey, Amelia. Where’s Mr. Perfect?”

She shot him a blank look.

“Derek,” Tate clarified with a crooked grin. “You know, the perfect doctor, perfect brother, perfect everything.”

The amusement dancing in Tate’s aqua eyes told her it was all in good fun, but it didn’t surprise her that Derek’s siblings called him Mr. Perfect. The man epitomized perfection—handsome, talented, kind, sexy. Derek Colton was the real deal, no doubt about it.

“He’s not here?” she said, frowning.

“Derek doesn’t live in the big house,” Piper spoke up as she intercepted the toddler’s chubby hand before he could grab a hunk of her wispy blond hair. “His house is next door.” The teenager glanced at Tate. “He texted me just now saying he’s on his way.”

“Have a seat,” Emma said to Chloe. “Can I grab you a drink? Wine, beer, iced tea?”

“An iced tea would be great.”

Chloe felt a tad awkward as she settled on the couch opposite Piper and folded her hands in her lap. This was her first official social visit since she’d moved to Eden Falls, and though she’d met all of Derek’s siblings before, being surrounded by so many people at once was daunting. As an only child, she’d always wished for a brother or sister, someone to laugh with and spill her secrets to, someone other than herself who she could rely on.

Her discomfort grew the longer she sat there, watching the scene before her. Tate teasing Piper, the happy squeals of Violet’s twins and Emma’s throaty laughter as she returned to the room with Sawyer hot on her heels.

Sawyer grinned when he spotted Chloe, making a beeline for her. “You came,” he said happily. He fixed a stern look in his sister’s direction, then glanced back at Chloe. “I hope Piper wasn’t annoying you.”

Chloe stifled a laugh. “Don’t worry—Piper has been a perfect lady.”

The boy snorted. “Right. The perfect giant lady, maybe. Piper is freakishly tall.”

“Hello? I’m sitting right here, twerp,” Piper said, waving her hand in the air. “At least have the decency to insult me behind my back.”

“But it’s more fun to do it to your face.”

Chloe and Tate exchanged an amused look as the duo continued to bicker. Despite the insults being traded back and forth, it was clear that Piper and Sawyer adored each other.

The Coltons were an unusual bunch, Chloe thought as she listened to the group chatter amongst themselves. Different ages, sizes, races, hair color, eye color. Charlotte and Donovan Colton had run a nonprofit organization for inner-city children, and Derek had laughingly told her that they liked to bring their work home with them—case in point, the six children they’d adopted.

As she sipped the iced tea Emma brought her, the photographs displayed on the fireplace mantel caught her attention. Setting the drinking glass on the pine coffee table, Chloe stood and headed for the hearth, smiling as she focused on a photo featuring a happy, distinguished-looking couple.

“That’s my mom and dad,” Sawyer said, coming up beside her. “I didn’t know them all that well. I was just a baby when they died.” His somber expression brightened as he pointed to the framed photo next to the first one. “And that’s me and Piper.”

Chloe grinned. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Sawyer then proceeded to point out each and every person in each and every picture, even the ones featuring only himself. Eventually, Chloe quit paying attention, until her gaze snagged on a photo of Derek with a pretty, raven-haired woman. The woman’s features hinted at both American and Asian descent, and she was utterly petite, the top of her head barely coming up to Derek’s shoulders. Both were beaming at the camera, but Chloe noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach the woman’s eyes. There was something so very sad about the woman in the picture.

“That’s Aunt Tess,” Sawyer said in a low voice, leaning closer to Chloe as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear.

“Aunt Tess?” she whispered.

“Derek’s wife. She died.”

Shock blasted through her, but Chloe did her best to hide her reaction. Derek didn’t wear a wedding ring—she’d definitely looked—but in the month she’d been working for him, he hadn’t once mentioned a deceased wife. Judging by Sawyer’s hushed tone, she got the feeling “Aunt Tess” wasn’t a common topic of conversation in the Colton household.

“Finally,” Tate said dryly.

Chloe turned around in time to see Derek stride into the room. Her heart did an involuntary somersault and she berated herself for the silly response.

Still, it was so hard not to drool over the man. Without the white coat and scrub bottoms he wore at the clinic, he looked far more approachable. Much more … well, sexy. His khakis were loose but couldn’t hide the long, muscular legs beneath them, and his black sweater molded to his broad, rippled chest. Lord, the man definitely worked out—no way had he acquired that rock-hard physique by handling a stethoscope and taking someone’s blood pressure.

She tore her eyes off his chest, moved them to his face and offered a timid smile. “Hey, Doct—Derek,” she quickly amended.

His easy smile warmed her insides. “Hey, Amelia. Glad you could make it.”

“I appreciate the invitation.”

Their eyes locked from across the room, and Chloe could have sworn she heard the air crackle. Or maybe it was the sound of her heart hammering against her breasts. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so drawn to a man. Even her husband hadn’t intrigued her the way Derek Colton did.

She gulped.

You don’t have a husband. You’re Amelia Phillips.

“Come on, little dudes, go to Julia.”

Piper’s voice jolted Chloe from her thoughts. A dark-haired woman—Julia, Chloe assumed—scooped up the toddlers, propped one on each of her hips and headed for the door.

“That’s our nanny,” Sawyer explained, tugging on Chloe’s hand.

“She’s going to watch the little terrors while we eat,” Derek added. “Violet’s nanny also has a much-deserved night off.” He shook his head in amazement. “I don’t know how Violet does it. Those two never seem to run out of energy.”

“I don’t know how Gunnar will do it,” Tate corrected with a laugh.

“Dinner’s ready, guys!” Emma called, poking her head into the living room.

As the group trudged toward the kitchen, Chloe felt a hand on her arm. She jumped in surprise, then relaxed when she realized it was Derek.

“Always so jumpy,” he murmured.

“You startled me.”

“You’re easily startled, aren’t you, Amelia?”

The contemplative note in his deep voice heightened her unease. She met his gaze and saw that his brown eyes were studying her, searching, probing, as if he were trying to bore right into her head.

She managed a faint smile. “I need to stop being so skittish, huh? I think it’s the move—new town, new job, new friends. It always takes me a while to adjust to new situations.”

After a beat, he nodded and gently squeezed her arm. “It’ll take some time, but I have a feeling you’ll fit right in. Come on, let’s have some dinner.”

Family dinners topped Derek’s list of favorite events, probably because they’d been so important to the couple who’d adopted him when he was three years old.

Charlotte and Donovan Colton had been the strongest, most loving people he’d ever met. They’d taken not just one child into their home, but six, and Derek and his siblings had grown up surrounded by so much love that his heart now boasted a big hole thanks to the loss of his parents.

Derek had insisted on keeping the tradition of weekly family dinners that had meant so much to his parents. Surrounded by his brothers and sisters, he felt a sense of peace that had been lacking in his life the past couple of years. Ever since Tess’s accident, he’d been having a tough time finding his footing again.

Professionally, he was as confident and composed as ever, but when he walked into his empty house at night, that cool and collected air he’d mastered dissolved, leaving him with a deep ache in his gut and a rush of loneliness. Despite everything they’d gone through, everything she’d put him through, he missed Tess. Or maybe he missed the woman she’d once been, the sweet girl he’d fallen in love with during college. Either way, he couldn’t deny the emptiness he felt, the sorrow that consumed him whenever he found himself alone with his thoughts.

“So your family lives in Missouri, then?” Emma asked. Derek raised his head, realizing his mind had wandered.

Emma’s question had been directed at Amelia, whose expression creased with pain.

“My mother passed away about fifteen years ago,” Amelia admitted. “But yes, my father’s in Missouri.”

Derek sensed there was more to the story, but the flicker of sorrow in Amelia’s big hazel eyes told him not to go there. His little brother, however, had yet to perfect the art of tact.

“Your dad lives alone?” Sawyer asked between mouthfuls of his meat loaf. “He didn’t get married again after your mom died?”

“Sawyer,” Tate chided. “Enough with the Twenty Questions.”

“It’s okay,” Amelia said softly. “I don’t mind.” Her fork toyed with the mashed potatoes on her plate, but she seemed to have lost her appetite. “My father didn’t remarry. He’s actually living in an assisted care facility just outside of St. Louis.”

Derek’s heart clenched as he met her eyes.

“Early-onset Alzheimer’s,” she revealed, as if she’d heard his silent question.

Derek nodded. “When was he diagnosed?”

“When he was fifty-five. That was ten years ago.”

“I’m sorry, Amelia,” Emma spoke up. “That must be so difficult, seeing someone you love go through something like that.”

Amelia cast her eyes downward. “It’s been very difficult.”

A lull fell over the table, until Tate cleared his throat and changed the subject. As Tate and Emma began discussing the investigation into the missing Amish girls, Derek discreetly studied Amelia from across the table. The revelation about her father was the first nugget of information he’d gleaned from her since he’d hired her three weeks ago, but it still wasn’t enough.

Amelia Phillips fascinated him like no other woman ever had. On the surface she seemed so fragile, but after working with her, he knew she had a core of steel. She was incredible with patients, met any challenge head-on and, when she let her guard down, displayed a witty sense of humor that never failed to make him smile.

But what else did he really know about her? She’d gone to college in California and worked there as a nurse for eight years, then moved back to Missouri and spent the next ten years doing God knows what before resuming her nursing career. Why such a long hiatus? Why had she moved to Pennsylvania? And why on Earth was she still single? Considering her youthful beauty and sweet demeanor, he couldn’t fathom that.

By the time dessert was served, Derek wasn’t any closer to getting the answers to those questions. And because he doubted she’d divulge any information while surrounded by his siblings, when Sawyer and Piper began to clear the table, he turned to Amelia and said, “How about a tour of the ranch?”

There it was again—that startled look in her eyes. “Oh. Sure,” she agreed awkwardly.

“Can I come?” Sawyer asked as he juggled the dishes in his hands.

“No, you can help your sisters clean up,” Tate answered for Derek.

When he met his brother’s eyes and saw the knowing gleam in them, Derek realized Tate knew he’d been hoping to get Amelia alone.

Battling a pang of discomfort, Derek averted his eyes and scraped back his chair. “You can come along next time,” he told Sawyer when he noticed the disappointment on the boy’s face.

Sawyer frowned but didn’t protest, which Derek was incredibly grateful for at the moment.

As he led Amelia out of the kitchen, he told himself that this inexplicable urge to get to know her was simply a result of his innate curiosity. Even as a kid he’d hungered for knowledge, needing to make sense of the world and the people around him. He’d never known his birth parents, and the foster families he’d lived with for the first three years of his life were nothing but a shadowy blur to him. As a result, he’d developed a need to make connections, to truly know the people in his life.

“We’ll take my car,” he said after he and Amelia put on their coats in the front hall.

She raised one dark-blond brow. “This isn’t a walking tour?”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later. The ranch is too big to wander around on foot.”

Ten minutes later, as they drove through the sprawling compound, Amelia turned to him with a laugh. “Wow. You’re right. This place is huge.”

As he pointed out the various outbuildings and landmarks, Derek discovered that he enjoyed seeing the Double C through Amelia’s eyes. He suddenly realized he’d stopped paying attention to the scenery of the ranch he’d lived on all his life. His practice kept him so busy that he rarely ventured out of his comfortable brick home, which neighbored the big house, and he had no need to oversee the ranching operation, since their foreman, Hank, was more than capable of handling the day-to-day activities.

But as Amelia oohed and ahhed at her surroundings, Derek experienced a burst of pride. The Double C truly was spectacular, the landscape marked by rolling wooded hills, large paddocks and rustic outbuildings. Eden Falls had yet to see a heavy snow, but the layer of silver frost dusting the land hinted that winter would finally be making an appearance soon.

Pointing to the left, he turned to Amelia and said, “There’s a little stream about half a mile that way. It’s probably too cold to walk along the bank right now, but I’ll take you out there in the spring. It’s a really beautiful little spot.”

“That sounds nice,” she said in a noncommittal tone.

A fresh wave of unease swelled in his gut, prompting him to pull to the side of the dirt trail and put the car in Park. As determination hardened his jaw, he shifted in the driver’s seat and faced Amelia.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Shock flooded her eyes. “Wh-what?”

“Who are you, Amelia? We’ve been working together for three weeks, yet I still don’t know a thing about you. Why did you move to Eden Falls? What do you do for fun? Tell me something that nobody else knows about you.”

Her shoulders, which had been stiff a second ago, relaxed slightly. With a tiny shrug, she offered him a gentle smile. “There’s not much to know. If I’m being honest, I’m not a very interesting person.”

“I don’t believe that.” Not one bit. Because whatever she claimed, she did interest him. Far too much for his liking, in fact.

Realizing he wouldn’t drop the subject, Amelia released a sigh. “Well, you know why I moved to Eden Falls—for this job.”

“You ran out of gas, stopped in town for lunch and saw my ad in the paper,” he filled in, repeating the story she’d told him during her job interview.

“Yep.” She shrugged again. “Like I said, I was heading for Philly, hoping to find work at one of the hospitals there, but the moment I stepped into Eden Falls, I knew this was where I belonged. This town is … it’s … home. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, actually I do,” he admitted.

“As for what I do for fun? Not much,” she said wryly. She pursed those lush lips, tilting her head in thought. “I used to volunteer a lot, mostly with hospital and children’s charities.”

“And what else?” he prompted. “What else do you like to do, Amelia?”

She hesitated and frustration bubbled in his stomach. Drawing details out of this woman was even harder than getting that terror Billy Hanson to sit still for his annual vaccinations.

“I love to bake,” she finally confessed. “I’m a whiz at crossword puzzles. I’m scared of bugs. I like to draw, but I’m not very good at it. I hate television—I only watch the news or DVDs. I’m not very outdoorsy, but I do like to ski.”

Well, that was a start.

Sensing that she was warming up to this sharing thing, Derek decided to do some more digging. “Why did you quit nursing after you left California? You’re a natural at it.”

He noticed the pulse point in her throat jump, as if he’d broached a subject she wasn’t entirely comfortable with. “I had no choice,” she said after a beat. “My father was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and someone had to take care of him. My mother was gone and I don’t have any siblings, so my dad had nobody else.”

“So you gave up your career to take care of your father?” When she nodded, he whistled softly. “You must be very close to him, then.”

She slowly shook her head. “We weren’t close, at least not while I was growing up. My mother was … let’s just say controlling. And appearances were the only thing that mattered to her. She expected me to marry a wealthy man and spend my time sitting on committees and hosting dinner parties. When I told her I wanted to be a nurse, she pretty much disowned me. We weren’t even speaking when she died.”

Amelia swallowed. “I rarely saw my dad during those years. My mother made it clear that I wasn’t welcome, at least not until I stopped being so stubborn and lived the kind of life she wanted me to.”

Derek frowned. “And your father just sat by and let all this happen?”

“He let her call the shots,” she said sadly. “He knew I wanted more from my life, but he took my mother’s lead.” She gulped again. “I’d hoped Dad and I would get closer after she died, and we did—for a brief time. But the closeness only lasted a year or so. Then he was diagnosed, and now …” She let out a shaky breath. “Now he doesn’t even know who I am.”

As his heart constricted, Derek reached across the armrest and took her hand. She jerked in surprise, her gaze flying to his, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

Her skin was hot to the touch and so very smooth. Derek’s pulse quickened, a rush of desire flooding his body as Amelia gently rubbed her thumb over the center of his palm. Christ. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d held a woman’s hand. Consoling overwrought patients didn’t count; he frequently offered comfort to the folks he treated. But this was different. This was … terrifying.

Struggling to steady the erratic thudding of his heart, he slowly brought his hand back to the steering wheel, avoiding Amelia’s eyes. “Shall we continue the tour?” he asked thickly.

“Actually, um, maybe we should head back.” From the corner of his eye, he saw her edging closer to the door, as if trying to put distance between them. “I really do need to get started fixing up my apartment.”

He ignored the disappointment that clenched his insides, knowing it was for the best if she left now. This strange attraction to Amelia Phillips unsettled him. He wasn’t looking to get involved with anyone—not now and not in the future. Besides, Amelia was his nurse. He signed her paychecks, for chrissake.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” he said as he executed a U-turn and steered the car back in the direction of the main house. “Now that you’re sticking around in Eden Falls, you’ll need a cozy place to go home to.”

By the time they reached the ranch house, Amelia looked as relieved as Derek felt. She practically launched herself out of the passenger seat, then shot him a nervous smile. “I had a nice time, Derek. Please thank your family for a lovely dinner.”

“Will do,” he said gruffly. “Have a good night, Amelia. Drive safe.”

“Night, Derek.”

As he watched her hurry toward her car, he reached up to rub the five-o’clock shadow dotting his jaw and wondered why the hell this woman affected him so damn much.

Chloe’s heart raced as she drove away from the Double C. Rolling farmland and rustic houses flashed by the car window, but she couldn’t pay attention to the scenery, not when Derek’s baritone voice continued to run through her mind.

Who are you?

In that moment, she’d feared he’d figured out her secret—that she wasn’t Amelia Phillips, but Chloe Moreno, the woman who’d faked a suicide and fled to the other end of the country to escape her husband.

Funny enough, when she’d realized that Derek wasn’t interrogating her, but just trying to get to know her better, her panic only intensified. The more time she spent with Derek Colton, the more she liked him, but she knew she couldn’t let herself open up to him, no matter how badly she wanted to. Felix might believe she was dead, but it would take a long time for Chloe to feel safe again.

The clip-clop of horse hooves caught her attention and she slowed the car, stopping to let a horse and buggy cross. The bearded Amish man at the reins wore a dark-colored suit and a black hat with a wide brim. He nodded in thanks as their eyes met through the windshield, and Chloe managed a weak smile. Sometimes she envied the Amish citizens residing in the area. Their lives were so simple, revolving around hard work, humility and family. She’d give her right arm for that simplicity, for just one day without this deep ache in her bones.

Simple doesn’t mean safe.

The ominous reminder had her spirits sinking even lower. God, nothing and nobody were immune to danger and heartache. The missing Paradise Ridge girls were proof of that.

As the buggy disappeared down the darkness-bathed road, Chloe continued straight, driving into the heart of town. The downtown shops had closed for the night, but the glow of the lampposts lining the streets illuminated the windows and drew her gaze to the holiday decorations gracing the storefronts.

This would be her first Christmas in twelve years without Felix. The realization made her think back to the very start of their marriage, when she’d been young and foolish and completely in love with the older, distinguished doctor.

All her life she’d been nagged by her high-society mother to marry a successful man. She was taught to hold her tongue and look pretty, to aspire for nothing more than the security a husband could offer. Ironically, she’d thought she was defying her mother when she’d married Felix. She’d met him while working in the trauma unit at the hospital in L.A.; back then he’d been an up-and-coming plastic surgeon, immediately sucking her in with his dark good-looks and undeniable charm. He’d actually valued her opinion, encouraging her to speak her mind, challenging her with thought-provoking discussions, treating her like a worthy partner rather than the daughter of Martin and Lynn Hathaway, a pair of wealthy Midwest transplants to Beverly Hills.

She should’ve recognized Felix’s controlling nature when he convinced her to quit nursing and demanded she stay at home, but he’d seemed so eager to start a family with her. And she’d wanted the same thing—to be a mother to Felix’s children. She wanted it so badly she’d agreed to concentrate on their marriage and soon-to-be family rather than her career.

But now she was on the other side of the country, choking down the bitter taste in her mouth and parking her Toyota in the tiny parking lot at the rear of her two-story apartment building. She had to stop thinking about Felix and focus on the fresh start she’d been presented with.

Fishing her keys out of her purse, she locked the car and headed for the back entrance of the building. Her apartment was on the second floor, but the building didn’t have an elevator so she had to climb the rickety wooden stairs, which squeaked beneath her boots.

When she reached her apartment, the door swung open before she could even turn the key.

She winced. The latch on the door had been loose since she’d moved in, but she hadn’t gotten around to fixing it yet. Besides, after three weeks in Eden Falls, she’d discovered that hardly anyone locked their doors around here. The crime rate in town was zero—or at least it had been until those Amish girls had begun disappearing.

Entering her apartment, Chloe made a mental note to get the doorknob fixed tomorrow. After the attempted kidnapping of Violet Chastain, she really needed to take better precautions.

Right, because a scarred, middle-aged woman is a mighty draw for a sex ring.

Fine, so the sick perverts snatching up those innocent girls probably wouldn’t take a second look at Chloe Moreno aka Amelia Phillips. But that didn’t mean she shouldn’t be more careful.

After she removed her outerwear and tossed her purse on the plaid-upholstered couch she’d purchased from the sole furniture store in town, she ducked into her small kitchen and brewed herself a cup of tea. She still had that bookshelf to assemble, but at the moment she wanted nothing more than to sit on the sofa, watch the ten o’clock news and clear her head.

Heading back to the living room, she set her tea on the square glass coffee table, then settled on the couch. She drew a flannel blanket around her legs and flicked the remote control.

The second the screen came to life, sound blared from the television speakers.

“I, Chloe, take you, Felix, to be my lawfully wedded husband.”

Horror slammed into Chloe’s chest with the force of a sledgehammer.

Her eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets as she stared at her younger self on the television screen. Clad in an elaborate lace gown with a scoop neckline and full skirt, twenty-nine-year-old Chloe gazed up at her dark-haired husband-to-be with pure adoration. A white-robed priest stood before the happy couple with a leather prayer book in his hands. In the background, the soft strains of violins could be heard.

Her wedding. Dear God, this was her wedding video.

The video she’d left behind when she fled Malibu.

“I, Felix Moreno, take you, Chloe, to be my …”

Chloe leaped off the couch as if she’d discovered a cockroach in her lap. But no, this was worse than a cockroach. Far more terrifying than her irrational fear of insects.

He was here.

Felix was here.

Panic torpedoed through her. Acid burned her throat, making it impossible to breathe. She sucked in shallow breaths, her body trembling so violently she keeled over, sagging against the arm of the couch for balance. Her wild gaze landed on the DVD player, which was whirring away, the seconds ticking off on the display.

She stood there frozen for several long seconds, then she burst into action, grabbing the first object she saw—a heavy glass paperweight sitting on the coffee table.

Swallowing her fear, Chloe crept toward the narrow hallway leading to her bedroom. As she approached the closed door, her heart thudded against her ribs and her lungs ached, prompting her to take a deep breath.

Call the cops, a little voice ordered.

She faltered in front of the bedroom. If her husband truly was behind that door, she had no chance of fighting him off. Felix was bigger than her, and his anger had always given him an inhuman amount of strength.

She had to call the police, then run out of the apartment and wait until the cops showed up to apprehend Felix.

But what if Felix wasn’t here? What if she called for help and then had to explain to the responding officer why a simple DVD posed such a monumental threat to her? She’d have to confess to the police who she really was, and the news would then find its way to Felix. She’d pretty much be announcing to her husband that she was still alive.

When her palms started tingling and black dots danced in front of her eyes, she realized she’d forgotten to breathe again. Sucking oxygen into her lungs, she straightened her shoulders and tightened her grip on the paperweight. She couldn’t risk calling the cops. Technically, no crime had even been committed—her door had been unlatched and nothing had been stolen as far as she knew.

Gathering her courage, she reached for the doorknob and turned it ever so slowly. Then she braced herself, half expecting Felix to burst out and grab her.

But nothing happened.

She pushed the door open, lifted the arm holding the paperweight and burst into the bedroom.

Empty.

The room was empty. And the closet door was wide-open, revealing more empty space because she still hadn’t gotten around to hanging any of her clothes.

Relief skyrocketed through her. Taking another breath, she ducked out of the room and repeated the same process with the little bathroom across the hall.

Empty.

Chloe’s shoulders relaxed, but tension continued to seize her muscles. Soft voices wafted through the apartment, followed by a burst of applause as the guests who’d attended her wedding cheered for the happy couple.

Feeling as if she’d just had the wind knocked out of her, Chloe trudged back to the living room and sank onto the couch. Her gaze fixed on the screen, on the broad smile gracing young Chloe’s eyes as she walked down the aisle arm-in-arm with her new husband.

Only two copies of that wedding video existed. One sat on the shelf of her father’s room at the nursing home in St. Louis, and she doubted Martin Hathaway even knew it was there and doubted even more that he’d suddenly regained his mental capacity, tracked her down to Eden Falls and left the video in her DVD player.

The other copy? Sitting in the entertainment system in the grand living room of her and Felix’s beachfront mansion.

“He found me,” she whispered, the agony-laced words echoing in the suddenly cold air of her apartment.