Читать книгу Stormy Haven - Elizabeth Goddard - Страница 14

TWO

Jonna hadn’t missed Ian’s skill in taking the man down. He’d been ready to march the man right up the beach and call the authorities—she’d seen it in the determined stance of his shoulders and the resolve on his rugged features. And he’d nearly succeeded. Did he have a military background?

But the ocean had had different plans for both men, tossing them like they were nothing more than driftwood. Fear for Ian’s life had corded her neck. She couldn’t let the ocean take him, and had willingly risked her own life to pull him out before it was too late. Nothing heroic on her part—just a balancing of the scales. She owed him for saving her. He hadn’t hesitated going after the guy to protect her, and without his quick action, she might be dead now.

She needed to be more alert. More prepared. From now on, she’d jog with her Sig, Max, like she should have to begin with. In fact, she’d take Max everywhere.

Aware Ian studied her, Jonna led him to the door that connected her garage to the main lodge, hoping she could escape to her own private cabin on the south side of the structure without encountering her guests. A short enclosed walkway connected the cabin to the lodge, for which she was grateful, especially on an occasion like this when she was chilled to the bone, but she wished they would have connected the garage to her cabin as well. To enter through her private entrance outside the lodge, she’d have to go out into the storm again.

Hands trembling, she accidentally dropped her keys on the concrete floor.

Ian snatched them up, beating her to it, and handed them over. Their fingers brushed.

His blue eyes had grown dark and piercing, more gray like the storm outside. “Are you okay?”

The intensity of his gaze unsettled her and she hesitated before responding. “As soon as I get out of these wet clothes I’ll be better.”

“Same here. Let’s meet in the common area after we change,” he said. “We can wait for the sheriff’s department together.”

She nodded her agreement. “The deputy in the Windsurf Substation can get here faster than someone coming from the county sheriff’s department, which is just under an hour away, even if the storm slows him down a little. Unless he’s assisting someone else, which could very well be the case in this weather.”

Ian on her heels, she hurried through the door, wanting to retreat before he could see just how the incident on the beach had shaken her. The adrenaline was beginning to crash. Not good. She had to hold it together for a few more hours.

Inside the lodge, she could see her guests clinging to big mugs of coffee or hot chocolate and enjoying baked goods. Her employees often baked up muffins, or they purchased breakfast foods from the restaurant next door to the lodge for those guests who didn’t want to venture out into the storm to eat at the restaurant for a bigger menu.

Everyone was focused on the panoramic windows overlooking the storm’s wrath and nature’s spectacular display.

Good, she could slip away and gather her composure.

Before she turned the corner that led to the short walkway to her cabin, Ian touched her arm. She hesitated, then slowed but kept her back to him. Couldn’t he just go to his room and change? Leave her be?

“Someone just tried to kill you. Be careful, Jonna. I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t expect me to find an attacker in my room, do you?” She’d teased, but the possibility corded her throat with a measure of fear.

Ridiculous. She shrugged off the apprehension.

“I could check it for you first.” His voice held genuine concern.

If only that didn’t warm her to her toes. She turned to face him and tossed him an easy smile, hoping she could hide her fear. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can—”

“I know. You can take care of yourself.”

He’d finished the sentence for her, but she read all too easily the doubt in his searching blue eyes. And what he didn’t say.

The guy had gotten away. If he had targeted her specifically, he could come back and attack again at any time. Who was he? Was it the Shoreline Killer? Or maybe the man who’d shot and left her for dead in Miami?

If it was the man from Miami, would she recognize him if she saw him, considering that much of what happened had been lost in the recesses of her mind? Some of her memories of that incident were as clear as Ian standing before her now. But she couldn’t remember the face of the man who had shot her.

Maybe...maybe it had nothing at all to do with what happened in Miami, and the man on the beach this morning really had been the Shoreline Killer.

Ian had saved her today. Protection poured off of him. She had the sudden urge to go to Ian and let him wrap his arms around her. To be held and comforted and protected. But Jonna shoved the unbidden thoughts away and stood taller. She walked backward, willing herself to want nothing more than to feel the door to her cabin—her safe haven—against her back.

“I’ll meet you ten minutes in front of the fireplace, okay?”

“See you then.” He waited until she’d walked the rest of the length of the enclosure and opened and closed her door.

Jonna snuck a glance through the peephole. He lingered a few more seconds and then disappeared around the corner.

Pressing her back against the door, she calmed her pounding heart. She rushed to the side table and opened the drawer. Withdrew Max, then searched her cabin just to be sure she was alone. Chop Suey, her big tabby cat—a Maine Coon—snoozed on the top of the maroon thrift-shop armchair next to the window, without a care in the world, oblivious to the tension rolling through Jonna.

She wanted to collapse on the sofa. Too much had happened in the last hour, not the least of which was one of her guests turning out to be a hero.

He’d booked a room in the main lodge a little over a week ago, and since then, she’d found herself looking at him now and again. Taking in his strong features and lithe physique. His thick, mussed black hair that hugged his collar. She’d imagined running her fingers through that hair, and then scolded herself for the silly fantasy. She shouldn’t have these entirely too-personal thoughts. She couldn’t allow herself the luxury of a relationship. But she kept wondering if there was a Mrs. Brady. Or if he waited here, expecting a close friend to show up. She shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts about one of her guests.

She learned her lesson a couple of years after Aunt Debby had bought the lodge—a fixer-upper—as an investment. She’d hired Jonna to run the place, keeping her niece’s name out of the paperwork for now. Peter was the contractor who’d helped renovate and restore the building.

She could easily have fallen for Peter. He was handsome. Charming. Clearly interested in her. Maybe she’d still been vulnerable after what she’d endured. Peter had been there to comfort her and...he’d asked too many questions about her life and her past. He’d only wanted to get to know her better, but she didn’t want to revisit the ugliness in Miami. Her reluctance to answer his questions had frustrated and then angered him as he demanded to know what she was hiding. The relationship that could have been fell apart quickly after that. And so she’d put Peter behind her, just like she’d put behind her everything that had happened in Miami.

She got up and peeked through the mini blinds and out the window to make sure the man hadn’t made his way back. The storm still raged outside. Maybe that would deter him for a while.

She settled at the kitchen table and thought back to her messed-up life.

If she couldn’t share all of her life with Peter, then she had no business letting the relationship go deeper.

Nothing had changed. She was still too broken, and could never truly let herself be vulnerable enough to love or be loved.

And now with this attack on her life, she realized she could never let down her guard. Trouble seemed to find her one way or another.

She’d endangered a guest today, but she was grateful he’d stepped into the fray.

Since Ian had checked in at her lodge, they’d forged a laid-back friendship, neither of them sharing too much about themselves. Just enough to make conversation and still hold everything close. At least that had been her intention, and she sensed he was no different.

While his friendship had been just right—exactly what she’d needed, she feared that if given too much leeway, her heart could easily step across the line she’d drawn. Somehow she had to keep her heart from betraying her.

Enough of these thoughts! Someone from the sheriff’s department could already be here.

After donning warm slacks, a floral T-shirt and soft sweater, she quickly towel dried her hair. It would have to do. She put on blush and lipstick, then paused as she stared at herself. She hardly ever used makeup unless it was a special occasion where she was dressed to impress.

What am I doing? Some part of her had wanted to look good for Ian, but that was ridiculous. She absolutely wasn’t going there with him or anyone. She couldn’t afford to.

Jonna exited her cabin and entered the lodge, fireflies dancing in her stomach at not only meeting Ian again, but also facing the substation deputy, Ollie Shane. Or would Sheriff Garrison himself show up? That would depend on where he was in the county when the call came through.

She hurried around the corner to the large living area comfortably decorated and boasting a massive fireplace and panoramic window. A few guests lingered, their attention drawn to something outside—storm watching. The reason they came to Oceanview Lodge.

Jonna didn’t see Ian. She breathed a sigh of relief and planted a smile for the benefit of the guests, but as she neared the window to face the storm, she realized what had garnered their attention. It wasn’t the storm after all, but the two men standing on the landing of the steps to the right down below them.

Wearing a weatherproof jacket, Ian stood with Sheriff Garrison near the edge of the awning, barely safe from the wind and rain. So the sheriff himself had come to investigate. Ian gestured with his hands, apparently sharing the events of the last hour without her. Why were they outside, though? Had Ian been showing the sheriff the rocks where it all happened?

She wanted to share her side of the story but didn’t want to go back out into the storm.

“Jonna, what’s going on?” DiAnn Morrison, one of her employees and a good friend, approached. “Why’s the sheriff here?”

Jonna urged DiAnn down the hall toward the kitchen. Only employees used it so she didn’t have to worry about a guest overhearing her words. She didn’t want to alarm anyone, not until she’d spoken to the sheriff, but DiAnn should know. “A man tried to shoot me on the beach.”

DiAnn took a step back, sheer terror in her eyes. “What did you say?”

Jonna didn’t repeat herself but simply waited, allowing DiAnn to absorb the news.

“I can’t believe it. That’s just horrible.”

“Please keep all of this to yourself,” Jonna urged. “At least let me speak to the sheriff first and see how he wants to handle it.”

“You don’t think it’s that...that serial killer, do you?”

“I don’t know. Be on the lookout for anything or anyone suspicious.”

DiAnn eased into a chair. Jonna would leave her to compose herself. Once she’d calmed down, she’d be able to calmly divert any questions the guests might have. DiAnn would know to maintain the bright and cheery demeanor that kept the guests coming back every year. She left DiAnn and grabbed a jacket on the hook by the kitchen door, then braved the storm again. Wind and rain lambasted her as she made her way around and found the two men behind a protective barrier that blunted the storm’s effects.

“And why were you there on the beach?”

At the question aimed toward Ian, Jonna hesitated revealing herself. She wanted to hear the answer to that, unfettered by her presence. She hadn’t even considered the question of why Ian had been on the beach, which meant her skills were getting rusty.

* * *

Ian had caught a glimpse of Jonna before she ducked out of sight. He shivered. “Could we talk about this someplace warm?”

“I think any evidence left behind is long gone, so there’s no reason to dig around out here. Let’s get inside,” Sheriff Garrison said.

Ian gestured for them to head back toward the lodge. Jonna stepped out at that moment. “Sheriff Garrison, thanks for coming.”

“Under the circumstances, I can’t say I’m glad to be here. Are you all right?”

“I’ve been better,” she said. “Let’s go inside and grab something warm to drink while we chat in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to worry my guests, so I haven’t yet shared with them what happened.”

Ian and Sheriff Garrison followed Jonna into the lodge and then the kitchen. Ian gladly shrugged out of the jacket, hung it on a peg at the door and rubbed his hands together. He would’ve much preferred to have this conversation near the big roaring fire, but other guests would hear their discussion.

“I’ll make you some coffee or hot chocolate,” Jonna said. “Which would you prefer?” She ushered Ian to a chair at the table, and the sheriff joined them.

Sheriff Garrison shrugged out of his jacket too. “Coffee’s good.”

Jonna sent Ian an acknowledging glance—she already knew his preference.

“You were just about to tell me why you were on the beach when there are warning signs about this storm.”

Ian stiffened. “I usually jog every day. Just ask Jonna. But I had decided to avoid it this morning because of the storm—” he eyed Jonna “—and because of the signs. Then I heard one of the guests mention they’d seen Jonna going for a run and they were worried about her since the storm was moving in faster than expected. The waves had grown bigger.”

The sheriff scrutinized him as if trying to figure out if Ian had some special interest in Jonna. Ian kept it cool.

“So you took it on yourself to check on her.”

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? Seemed like the right thing to do.” There. Try to make something out of that. “I’d gone to the landing to see if she was close by and that’s when I spotted someone suspicious over behind the rocks.”

“Suspicious, how? And why would you decide to confront a man who looked suspicious rather than calling 9-1-1?”

Really? There’d been no time! “He pulled a gun. And he was aiming it at Jonna. What would you have done?”

“You told me that part. And you’re right, I would have taken action.” The sheriff still scrutinized Ian. He would probably run a background check on him. Ian hadn’t broken any laws, so he wouldn’t worry about it. But he wasn’t sure he wanted the man to know the kind of security he’d worked. At least not yet.

“Ian was a hero today, Sheriff. He saved my life. Now, don’t you want to hear my side of the story?” Jonna turned and handed the sheriff and Ian cups of coffee, then crossed her arms, watching Ian, studying. She didn’t miss a thing, this one. But she’d tried to divert the sheriff’s undue attention from Ian.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“I saw a guy up on the cliff, keeping pace with me. It was only unusual because of the storm. Only a crazy person would jog in this. So I noticed him.”

Ian shared a look with the sheriff, then stared at Jonna.

Jonna pursed her lips. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“So you’re a committed runner. Continue with your story,” Sheriff Garrison said.

“I suspected he was up to no good. When the guy disappeared I figured I was just being paranoid. Still, I couldn’t wait to get out of the storm. The waves were coming in hard and fast and I could get trapped on the beach. Then the man stepped out from behind the rocks and pointed a gun at me. That’s when Ian tackled him. He got a bloody nose for his heroic efforts,” she added.

The sheriff’s sharp gaze shot up from his pad and paper. “The guy you believed was pacing you on the ledge, are you sure it was the same man who tried to shoot you?”

“I’m pretty sure. He had on the same hoodie. No one else was out there.” Her gaze flicked to Ian.

The sheriff scratched his chin, then eyed them both. “There can’t be too many joggers out here in this kind of weather in the winter, so it’s possible someone else noticed him too, but did either of you get a good look?”

“With the wind, rain and sea spray, it was a blur for me,” Ian said. “His hood covered his face, but I’d say five-eleven, muscular build. Pasty white skin and dark hair.”

“That’s a pretty good description for it being a blur,” the sheriff said.

Ian hoped he and the man weren’t going to have a problem. He’d talk to Uncle Gil about it first, but maybe he should pull the sheriff aside and tell him the real reason he was here. It would mean sharing about Jonna’s past—that is, if she didn’t fess up herself. Maybe the sheriff already knew.

“What about you, Jonna? Can you add anything or do you disagree?”

“When he pointed the gun at me,” Jonna said, “I looked at him long and hard. But it was from a distance and the storm had picked up, so I couldn’t see him very clearly. I think Ian’s description is right.”

“We’ll get you two down to the station to look at some photos. Maybe we can get a forensic artist in too.”

“Do you think it could be the Shoreline Killer?” she asked.

Creases grew around the sheriff’s eyes and mouth. “I think it’s too soon to say. But I have to ask you, Jonna—can you think of any reason someone would want to kill you?”

Ian resisted the urge to hold his breath. Now, there was a loaded question. Would Jonna tell the sheriff about her past career in Miami? It was clear he didn’t already know or he would be bringing that up now. Ian looked forward to hearing her answer.

The sheriff glanced his way. “Mind if I speak with Jonna alone, Mr. Brady?”

“Of course not.” Ian scooted from the chair. “I’ll just be waiting by the fire if you need me for anything else.”

Ian left the room. At first, he hung near the door hoping to hear what Jonna would say, but DiAnn came around the corner. Ian nodded, smiled and headed to the main room to watch the storm through the window and stand by the fire. Instantly, the guests gathered around him to question him about what was going on.

Uncertain how much either the sheriff or Jonna wanted him to say, Ian begged off and headed to his room. He needed to call Uncle Gil anyway. Uncle Gil needed to know about what happened today. Maybe he would release Ian to be forthcoming, though the more he found out about the woman, the more he understood his uncle’s reasons for sending someone to watch over her—from a distance.

It would help if his uncle had more details to share about that old case in Miami, but Jonna hadn’t known who had shot and left her for dead. Amnesia. Too bad. For all they knew the same guy had shown up on the beach today.

Ian hated not knowing whom he was up against in protecting a woman who didn’t want protection. Her survival could depend on it. But this wasn’t the first time he was expected to protect someone against an unknown enemy. Except he’d failed before.

God, please don’t let me fail this time.