Erin pushed a wheelchair toward one of the elevators in Cape Coral Hospital, the rubber soles of her boots making muffled taps against the vinyl tile. She’d gotten permission to pick Cody up from the hospital, take him to retrieve his truck, then escort him home. It was her responsibility to make sure he wasn’t followed.
“I’m glad to be getting out of here.” He shifted in the chair. “Another day and I’d have been climbing the walls.”
He’d been scheduled to be released yesterday, but the doctor had held him one more day, wanting to make sure there weren’t any complications. Two and a half days in the hospital had stretched his patience. He obviously didn’t do well with confinement.
“So where is Alcee?” Cody angled a glance over one shoulder, but couldn’t twist enough to make eye contact. He winced, then released a pent-up breath, gaze straight ahead again.
He’d be sore for a while. Besides the cracked ribs, nasty bruises marked both arms. With the bedsheets pulled up past his waist and the hospital gown above that, those were the only ones she’d been able to see, but she was sure there were others. Considering what he’d been through, he was blessed to have fared as well as he had.
“Alcee’s with my neighbor. She keeps her while I’m working.”
“You’re on duty now?”
“Yep. My job is to make sure you get home safely.” A marked unit would respond to secure the area, then follow them to Cody’s.
The crime scene techs hadn’t lifted any viable prints from the soup container, which didn’t come as a surprise since the guy had worn latex gloves. The food service people likely had, too. And the toxicology report wouldn’t be back for several weeks.
Hospital surveillance tapes weren’t any help, either. The cameras had captured the supposed maintenance person, but he’d managed to keep his head down in all the footage. Though his face wasn’t identifiable, hospital personnel were able to verify he wasn’t one of their employees, which made his presence suspicious.
She stopped in front of the bank of elevators and pressed the down button. If it was up to her, Cody wouldn’t even go home. “What if he knows where you live?”
“Then he’d have waited to attack me when I’m there alone rather than in a hospital ward with people all around. He doesn’t know who I am or where I live.”
“Unless he looked at your wallet.”
“He didn’t get that far. He was still standing at my food tray when I woke up. I think I startled him, and that’s why he didn’t get the cover back over my food properly.” He attempted another backward glance. “That’s assuming he tried to poison me. I’m still not convinced.”
The elevator dinged, and she shook her head. He was either way too trusting or liked to live in denial. Or maybe it was just plain stubbornness. He’d accused his grandfather of having a healthy dose of the trait, but he’d inherited some of it himself.
The elevator doors opened. An elderly couple and a woman with a teenager stood inside. They stepped to the edge to make room for the wheelchair, and Erin rolled it forward.
A short time later she wheeled him through the automatic glass entry doors. A midafternoon thunderstorm had passed through earlier, and walking out of the air-conditioned comfort of the hospital was like stepping into a sauna. Florida wouldn’t offer any relief from the heat and humidity for at least another month or two.
She turned to follow the wide walkway to her right. The main entrance was tucked into the V where two wings joined, a large circular drive in front. Inside the circle several palms rose above a floor of neatly trimmed shrubs. Her county-assigned Ford Explorer waited up ahead. She’d pulled it through a short time earlier and parked at the curb.
After Cody was situated in the vehicle, she returned the wheelchair. He turned to her as soon as she slid into the driver’s seat.
“When we get to Pops’s place, I need a few minutes. I want to retrieve some of his things. I also need to stop at the bank on the way home. I finished a remodel job the day before the storm, and the customer made his last payment in cash. I have an envelope with almost two thousand dollars locked in my glove box.”
She frowned at him. “I don’t know about the bank, but hanging out at your grandfather’s place is out of the question.”
The Bureau had finished collecting its evidence yesterday. The construction workers had even made a somewhat clear path to what had been Cody’s grandfather’s apartment. It had been the only way to get them both safely out. But the fact remained that there was a killer out there somewhere. And whether Cody was willing to admit it or not, he was a target.
“You said they’re clearing the area before we arrive, making sure no one’s waiting for me.”
“That’s beside the point. We’re not going to let you dally there.”
“All I need is ten minutes. There are keepsakes I don’t want to lose, memorabilia from Pops’s years in the military, letters, photos.”
She cranked the car, then wound her way past the series of medical buildings and doctors’ offices to come out on Thirteenth Court. “Whatever is there, it’s not worth your life.” She sighed. Judging from the stubbornness on his face, she was wasting her breath. But she continued anyway. “Somebody brought a building down with you inside.”
“And no one believes that was aimed at me.”
“Someone just tried to poison you.”
“We don’t know that. Not until the toxicology report comes back. You trust your dog one hundred percent. I’m more of a show-me kind of guy.”
She shook her head as she eased to a stop at a traffic light. Soon they’d be headed toward Pine Island, where his grandfather had lost his life and where Cody could well have joined him. And Cody was going to remain in denial until he had irrefutable proof.
“What about the man in your room? Law enforcement thinks you’re in danger, or they wouldn’t have posted a Cape Coral police officer in the hall.” She heaved a sigh. He was a lot more exasperating than he’d been when she’d known him earlier. “If the man didn’t intend you any harm, what was he doing there?”
Some of the stubbornness fled his features. She didn’t give him a chance to regroup.
“We’ve made contact with the apartment owner and two of the tenants. The others haven’t returned yet. But based on preliminary interviews, out of the six apartments, your grandfather lived in one, and one was vacant. The other four were occupied by a single mom with two kids, two middle-aged sisters, a retired couple and two guys. The man you saw isn’t a resident there.”
“What about the two guys?”
“Tall and lanky, not the build of the guy you saw leaving.”
The light changed, and she stepped on the gas. When she glanced over at Cody, a muscle worked in the side of his jaw as if he was clenching and unclenching his teeth.
Finally, he shook his head. “How did he find me? Let’s assume the guy I saw leaving set the charges. He wouldn’t have known Pops and I were inside when the building collapsed. I told him we were both leaving.”
“The story hit the news. Your names were withheld, pending notification of your grandfather’s next of kin, but everyone in Lee County knows there was one rescue and one fatality.”
She made a left onto Pine Island Road. “Or maybe he came back to survey his work and witnessed the rescue.”
It was possible, especially if he’d used binoculars and stayed hidden by foliage. She hadn’t been looking for suspicious observers, because there’d been no reason to assume anything sinister. Her focus had been on her dog, then on the men working to free victims. After that, Cody had occupied every thought. He was still unwittingly injecting himself into far too many of them.
“He’d assume you’d be taken to Cape Coral since it’s the closest hospital. Dressed in his fake maintenance uniform, he was able to move about freely. The hospital isn’t filled to capacity right now, either.” Not like during the December to April snowbird season, when Florida’s elderly population grew exponentially.
She sighed. The conversation had gotten sidetracked, and he hadn’t agreed to get in his truck and go straight home. Now she had less than thirty minutes to tunnel her way through his stubbornness.
“Why don’t you specify what you’re looking for, and we’ll get whoever’s in charge of cleanup to keep an eye out for it.”
He shook his head, jaw set and eyes hard. “If I don’t get the stuff today, it’ll be gone. I’m not taking that chance.”
“You’re putting yourself in unnecessary danger.” She clenched the wheel and reined in her emotions. She usually prided herself on keeping her cool. But this wasn’t a random witness she was dealing with. It was Cody. And she still cared for him. Always would.
He was silent for several moments. Maybe her arguments were getting through to him. When he finally spoke, his tone was low.
“How are your grandparents?” He looked at her hard, gaze boring into her.
“They’ve settled here in Florida. Mimi had a stroke, but she’s doing well, finishing her rehab.”
In fact, they were the reason she was in Florida. After almost three decades of traveling, they’d bought a place in a senior mobile home park and put down roots. Two months later her grandfather had had a heart attack. Rather than her parents bringing them back to California, Erin had left her position as a K-9 officer with Sunnyvale Police, paid the penalty to terminate her apartment lease and took off, pulling a small U-Haul trailer behind her RAV4.
The move wasn’t quite the sacrifice it appeared to be. She’d wanted to put some distance between herself and her past mistakes and at the same time escape the fallout from her latest relationship fiasco. The fresh start had accomplished the latter. Unfortunately, the nightmares had made the cross-country move with her.
Cody nodded. “I’m glad you still have your grandparents.”
His words were sincere, but she could read the meaning behind them. She didn’t have just her grandparents. She had her parents, too—loving, supportive ones. Based on what Cody had told her, he’d never had a father, and his mother had abandoned him more times than he could count. Now that his gram and pops were gone, whatever he pulled from that wreckage might be all he had left of his family.
He’d lost enough. She wouldn’t make him give that up, too.
She heaved a sigh. “Ten minutes. And I’ll be timing you.”
“Not a problem. I’m in no shape to be doing anything too major. I know where the boxes are, because I helped him move. With all the clearing those guys did getting to Pops, it won’t take me long to find what I’m looking for.”
The other unit would wait, and although her supervisor wouldn’t be any happier with the situation than she was, he’d expect her to do exactly what she was doing. If she forced Cody to go right home, she wouldn’t put it past him to head back over as soon as she left.
When she reached Pine Island, there wasn’t much more activity than there’d been two days ago. Her electricity in Fort Myers had come back on that morning, but power hadn’t been restored here yet. Some of the residents were likely staying away rather than enduring the heat and humidity without air-conditioning. She couldn’t blame them. Last night had been pretty miserable.
Eventually, the road curved. To her right, three boats bobbed in a light chop, their occupants fishing. Docks extended out over the water, signs on their ends declaring them private. To her left, a vehicle sat in one driveway, but the other homes were still abandoned. A marked unit waited at the edge of Main, the same place Joe had occupied when she’d spoken to him Sunday. Another one sat in front of the demolished apartment building. No one had followed them. Erin had been checking her mirrors from the time they left the hospital.
After stopping next to the white Ram, she stepped from the vehicle, eyeing the caution tape cordoning off what remained of the structure. It was there for safety’s sake, with the newly added no-trespassing signs to discourage snooping and reduce liability. Two uniformed deputies approached from the properties on either side.
“All clear. We’re just going to look at his truck since it sat here unattended for some time.”
Erin nodded toward Cody. “He’s going to grab a couple of things while you do that.”
Cody ducked beneath the tape, then maneuvered his way across the pile of debris. For the next several minutes she shifted her gaze between him and the deputies at his truck. While Cody searched, one man worked on hands and knees, looking behind each wheel, and the other checked beneath the hood.
Finally, Cody straightened, brows drawn together and lips pressed tight. Sweat beaded on his face, likely from pain as much as the Florida heat. The handle of a metal box was clutched in one hand. “This has Pops’s keepsakes from his Air Force days.” He set it aside and returned to his search.
A couple of minutes later he made his way down with what looked like an armload of photo albums and placed them on the hood of her Explorer. “There are a few of us in the top one.”
“Really?” Her heart fluttered. He’d held on to them all these years. At least, his grandparents had.
“I didn’t know Pops had them until I was helping him move. We were taking a break, and I flipped through them.” He gave her a half smile. “We have Gram to thank. She was the historian of the family.”
He stepped toward the destroyed building. “I want to get their letters. Then I’ll be ready to go.”
She glanced at the cops checking his truck and then down at the albums. “Do you mind if I look?”
“Help yourself.”
She picked up the album he’d indicated and turned back the cover. This one was devoted to Cody. The first page held a school picture, “first grade” in neat script below. Others followed, showing his progression in age.
Baby pictures were absent. Those were the years before he came to live with his grandparents. His mother was obviously a poor picture taker. Based on what Cody had told her years ago, she’d been a sorry mother, too.
After several photos of teenage Cody enjoying various activities, she turned the page to find her own face staring back at her. Cody was behind her, bent so his chin rested on her shoulder. He held her in a tight embrace, arms wrapped around her waist. The love in his eyes was obvious, even in a twelve-year-old picture.
She’d been in love, too. She just hadn’t been ready to make it exclusive. Too many years of watching her mother give up who she was to accommodate a rigid, demanding man had made her gun-shy.
Erin had thought she could put what she had with Cody on hold and have the option of returning to it at a later date, both of them unchanged. As if love was something that could be stored on a shelf, then taken down sometime in the future, dusted off and revived. Life didn’t work that way. Over the past twelve years a lot of water had gone under the bridge, and it only flowed in one direction—forward. Never back.
She turned the page. In the next photo she and Cody were huddled together on a porch-type swing, her head tilted toward him, one leg extended. Everything about her, from her pose to her facial expression, shouted carefree.
Carefree had been an illusion. In her determination to avoid the constraints that marked her mother’s life, she’d picked users and losers. One bad choice had almost gotten her killed. But sometimes it was the unseen wounds that bled the worst.
Erin glanced up as a red Toyota Tacoma turned onto Boca Vista. She stiffened in alert readiness. But the driver didn’t show any interest in what they were doing beyond a brief glance in their direction.
The tension fled her body. The man looked nothing like the guy at the hospital. He was clean-shaven, and his hair was dark and close cut. Probably a neighbor. Someone who belonged here.
Cody made his way toward her with the box he’d retrieved earlier, along with a second one. After placing them on the ground in front of her, he straightened, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn together. “I just thought of something Pops said the night of the storm. A couple of days earlier the owner of the building told him he wanted everyone gone. No one was to wait out the storm in their apartment.” He frowned. “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he didn’t want the liability if something happened.”
Erin finished the thought for him. “Or maybe he planned to have the place destroyed to collect the insurance money and didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
It was possible, even probable. They’d know more after checking out the guy’s financial situation. The detectives were already on it. That was always the most logical place to start in situations like this.
She glanced at the deputies who were now squatted at the two open doors of the Ram, apparently looking under the dash. “Did you not lock your truck?”
“No. I was getting Pops and leaving right away. After my half-hour fight with him, I forgot about it.”
She nodded, thankful the deputies were being so thorough. “Have you thought about funeral arrangements yet?”
“I have an appointment with the funeral home tomorrow. Pops belonged to a church here, so I’ll get in touch with his pastor. When everything’s over, we’ll have his body shipped back to Illinois to be buried with Gram.” Sadness filled his eyes. “I’m going to miss him. I can’t tell you how often something crosses my mind and I think about telling him. It still doesn’t seem real.”
Erin’s heart twisted. At one time she’d have drawn him into a comforting hug. Instead, she put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
She remembered Cody’s grandparents well. She’d even heard several of his grandfather’s stories. He’d been tough and crusty, what she’d always imagined an old military vet would be. But when it had come to Cody’s grandmother, the man had had a soft spot that Erin had found cute. He’d directed quite a bit of that softness Erin’s way, too.
“Let me know when the funeral is. I’d like to come.” She wouldn’t miss this opportunity to pay her final respects to the man she’d liked and admired as a teenager.
She’d be there for Cody, too, not because she’d broken his heart twelve years earlier, but because he looked grieved. Maybe even a little lost. And it struck a chord in her.
One of the deputies approached wearing a frown. Erin’s stomach tightened. “Did you find something?”
“Possibly. It looks like the dash might have been tampered with.” He tilted his head toward Cody. “Take a look at this.”
They followed the deputy to the truck, and Cody slid into the driver’s seat. “You’re right. It’s like it’s not quite tight. It’s hardly even noticeable, but I know my truck.”
Erin pursed her lips. “There’d be exterior damage if it was storm related. It sounds like someone might have removed it and didn’t get it reinstalled properly.”
Cody frowned. “I have a tool kit in the back. If you have some latex gloves, I can open it up and let you guys have a look inside.”
His eyebrows drew together and creases of worry formed between. He reached across the truck to check the glove box. After finding it locked, he opened it with the key. An envelope lay inside, along with the owner’s manual and some loose sheets of paper beneath.
Tension fled his features. That envelope likely held the two grand he’d mentioned.
After donning the gloves, he went to work on the dash, grimacing with the awkward movements. Soon he had the upper and lower portions removed. “I’m no wiring expert, but I’d say this isn’t factory installed.”
Erin watched him loop one gloved finger around a small bundle of wires wrapped in black electrical tape. It had been tucked into the left-hand side of the dash, next to the door. Each end disappeared into a connector, attaching it to other wires.
Cody backed away, and one of the deputies stepped forward. “I’m pretty sure I know what we have going on here.” He leaned down to look into the long, flat space directly beneath the top of the dash, then pried loose a thin rectangular box. He held it in one gloved hand for everyone to see. “This is a tracking device.”
Erin grasped Cody’s wrist, an icy wave of dread washing over her. “Someone went to a lot of trouble to be able to find you at any given time. Is your personal information on anything in your truck?”
“Just my registration and insurance information. And it was locked in my glove box.”
She released a pent-up breath. At least Cody hadn’t made it easy for the creep. But the danger was far from over. In fact, it was just beginning.
“Now do you believe me when I tell you you’re in danger, that I’m not just blowing smoke?” He couldn’t deny it anymore. He’d have to face the truth and take her warnings seriously. She almost felt vindicated.
But when she looked at his fear-filled eyes and drawn features, whatever satisfaction she might have felt fled. Cody had finally accepted the danger he was in. And it had clearly shaken his foundation.
Cody walked toward his truck, clipboard clutched to his chest. Yesterday Erin had escorted him home, along with two deputies. They’d made sure he wasn’t trailed and kept watch while he fed a wad of fifties and twenties into his bank’s ATM.
No one had attempted to follow him. Of course, whoever was after him was probably counting on the tracking device to do the job. By now the killer probably knew the device led nowhere except the sheriff’s department.
Erin had advised him to lie low. Law enforcement would be driving by his house regularly, looking for suspicious activity, but they couldn’t provide him a full-time bodyguard. To be totally safe, that was what he’d need.
Remaining locked away inside his house wasn’t an option. While he’d been in the hospital, requests for hurricane damage estimates had poured in. Today he was taking care of the first half dozen. The meetings, note-taking and measuring were tasks he could handle. By the time he had to do any physical work, he hoped to be fully healed.
The house behind him was one he knew well. Six months ago he’d completed a master bath addition. Saturday’s storm had sent an oak tree crashing through the middle of it. His customer’s brother owned a tree trimming and removal business, so the oak was already gone. And Cody had made arrangements from his hospital bed to have his own guys temporarily secure the opening to prevent further damage.
He climbed into his truck and tore off the top two sheets from the legal pad attached to the clipboard. They held measurements, notes and rough sketches that wouldn’t make sense to anyone except him. After sliding them into the folder on the passenger seat, he put another address into the GPS.
The folder beside him was titled Hurricane Estimates, but only two of the sheets inside were the completed pink copies of his forms. The rest were pages similar to the ones he’d just added—jobs that were too extensive for spur-of-the-moment pricing.
So far it had been a productive day. Although the Gordons were longtime customers, the other people he’d visited were new. Hurricanes weren’t fun, but they were great business boosters for the construction industry.
He wove through North Fort Myers, making his way toward Edison Bridge, which would take him south into Fort Myers. He’d started his day meeting a homeowner on Pine Island. Erin wouldn’t have been happy. But he’d stayed well away from Bokeelia, where his grandfather had lived.
The island itself held four unincorporated towns, with Bokeelia at the far northern tip, Pineland below it, Pine Island Center below that and St. James City at the southernmost tip. If anyone had been watching for him to return to his grandfather’s apartment building, they’d have been disappointed since he hadn’t gone anywhere near there.
Unless they were keeping an eye on the only bridge on and off the island. But that wasn’t the case, either. At least, not that he could see while driving. He’d looked. He had no intention of being reckless.
Now that he was off Pine Island, spotting him wasn’t going to be so easy. In a large metropolitan area consisting of three good-size cities, it would be like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.
He eased to a stop at a traffic light. Three more estimates in Fort Myers and it would be time to get ready to meet Erin for dinner. He’d lined it up yesterday, after she’d followed him home. All that remained was choosing a restaurant. He was leaning toward his and Pops’s favorite place, which also happened to be dog-friendly.
He wasn’t sure what an appropriate thank-you for saving his life was, but she’d have turned down anything too extravagant. Of course, she’d turned down dinner at first, too. She was clearly not in the market for a relationship. At least, not with him. Maybe she already had a significant other.
That was fine by him. It had taken a few times of getting the foundation kicked out from under him, but he’d eventually gotten it—a quiet, stable life alone beat the emotional roller coaster he’d found himself on too many times. His mom, then Erin, then his ex-wife. For some reason the women in his life tended to not stick around.
Cody clicked on his right signal and turned onto North Tamiami Trail. Getting Erin to finally agree to dinner had required his assurances it wasn’t a date and his insistence that Alcee accompany them. Erin hadn’t had a preference. Once she finished her shift, they’d meet at the pet-friendly Blue Dog Grill and enjoy a late dinner on the patio overlooking the canal.
Soon, the wide expanse of the Caloosahatchee River lay ahead, sun sparkling off its surface. The road split into two separate bridges, northbound and southbound, a dual concrete-colored ribbon slicing through the view. He began his ascent in the farthest lane to the left. Past the lunchtime busyness and too early for the evening rush hour, traffic was moderate.
The slope leveled out, and high-rises stabbed the sky in the distance. An abundance of palm trees covered the landscape, creating a floor of green, fronds standing out against the pale facades of the buildings. Fort Myers wasn’t called the City of Palms for nothing.
When a vehicle roared up beside him, Cody slanted a glance in that direction. A gold-colored older Camry fell back to match his speed. He looked again, and the driver peered at him through amber-tinted sunglasses, blond hair brushing his shoulders.
Cody’s heart leaped into his throat, and he jammed down hard on the brakes. At the same moment the Camry swerved into him.
The crash of metal striking metal reverberated around him, and he fought to maintain control. The space between his truck and the concrete guardrail shrank. His front bumper’s left corner impacted with a bone-jarring crash that sent the rear end of the Ram around in an arc.
He clutched the wheel in a steel grip, hoping all four tires stayed on the road. The world spun past him—water and sky, asphalt and oncoming vehicles, more water and sky, then roadway again, taillights in the distance.
When he came out of the spin, the concrete guardrail loomed in front of him. A fraction of a second later the truck jerked to a halt, its hood crushed, steam escaping from beneath. Most of his side window was gone, dime-size pieces of it lying in his lap. An intricate road map of cracks spiderwebbed across the height and width of the windshield.
Cody peeled his shaking hands from the steering wheel one finger at a time. Someone had just tried to kill him. Had the other driver hoped to run him through the guardrail into the Caloosahatchee River some fifty-five feet below? If the barrier had been metal instead of concrete, he’d have succeeded.
Cody hadn’t seen the man’s eyes, but he’d recognized the hair. The glasses, too. Dark plastic frames with yellow-tinted lenses. They’d looked out of place in the driving prestorm rain. But they hadn’t been there to block out the sun’s glare. Their purpose had been to impede identification.
Even so, the guy wasn’t leaving anything to chance. He was determined to eliminate his only possible witness.
A figure stepped into Cody’s peripheral vision, and he turned toward the broken passenger window with a start. The guy was big, close to Cody’s age but with an additional thirty pounds of muscle. In the rearview mirror, two vehicles were stopped behind him and another man approached, a phone pressed to his ear.
The large guy held up a hand. “Sorry to scare you. Are you okay?”
“I think so.” He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t had a chance yet to take inventory. His side hurt, but it had been hurting before, along with several other protesting parts of his body.
The other man joined them. He was older, maybe midfifties, and not nearly as large. “I’ve got 911 on the phone. Do you need an ambulance?”
“No, just police. Tell them to look for an older gold Camry with the driver’s side smashed in. Did either of you get a tag number?”
The larger man shook his head. “All I can say is it looked like a temporary tag. I wasn’t close enough to read it.”
“Me neither. But the police could still put out a BOLO for the car.”
The man finished the call and pocketed the phone. Cody released his seat belt. Maybe he should have stood and made sure he could walk before he turned down that ambulance. He pulled the handle and pressed on the door with his shoulder. It didn’t budge.
The first guy gave it three hard yanks from outside and finally had it open enough for Cody to squeeze through. After walking back and forth in the emergency lane a few times, he was satisfied. Nothing seemed to hurt any worse than it had before.
He pulled out his phone. Both of the men had agreed to hang around and talk to the police as witnesses. But Cody had another call to make, one he dreaded. Erin would chew him out big-time. But he had to call her. He was supposed to meet her and Alcee for dinner and had no idea how long he’d be tied up.
Before she’d left his place yesterday, they’d each programmed the other’s number into their phones. She had his so she could keep tabs on him, and he had hers so he could call at the first sign of trouble. He hadn’t planned for trouble to find him this quickly.
Thirty minutes later the familiar blue Explorer made its way onto the bridge. By then the police had taken statements from the two witnesses and they’d left to go about their day. The wrecker was sitting behind his truck, lights flashing, while the driver worked with the cables.
Erin stopped some distance back, well out of the way of the tow truck and police officer, who was just now leaving. She jumped from the car and walked toward him, gait fast and stiff. Was it concern he saw? Anger?
“Are you all right?”
Now that she was close, he could see it—worry. Her gaze flicked down the length of him and bounced back up to his face. Warmth filled his chest, and he scolded himself. That concern would be there even without their history.
“I’m fine. Someone came into my lane.”
Okay, that was sugarcoating it.
“On purpose?”
He sighed. No sense denying it. “I think it was the guy from the hospital.”
She frowned. “You shouldn’t be out running around. It’s not safe.”
“I’ve been doing estimates for hurricane damage.”
“Where?”
“North Fort Myers, heading down to Fort Myers.”
“Where else?”
He winced. “I started on Pine Island.”
She clenched her fists. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t joyriding.” His volume matched hers. “I’ve got a business. It’s not going to run by itself.”
“And who’s going to run it if you’re dead?”
His shoulders sagged. She was right. But what choice did he have? “Do you know what happens to the construction industry in the wake of a hurricane? There’s more work than any of us can handle. We’re swamped for months afterward.”
“Then lie low for a few weeks. The work will still be there.”
“The first step is doing the estimates for the insurance companies. If I don’t do the estimates, I won’t be the one doing the work. I could lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. I can’t recover from that.” Two years ago, maybe. But not now. His ex-wife had seen to that.
Frustration burned a path through his chest. “Why is this guy after me, anyway?”
“Because you saw him leaving the day of the storm.”
“But I wouldn’t be able to identify him. Not with the rain slicker hiding his head and part of his face. Add the sunglasses and, as far as I’m concerned, he could be anybody.”
“He doesn’t know that, and he’s probably not taking any chances.”
The wrecker driver approached, a clipboard in one hand. “Do you have a body shop you prefer?”
“No.” He’d never had to use one. Other than a minor fender bender the year he turned nineteen, he had a perfect driving record. He hoped this one wouldn’t go against him. “I live in Cape Coral.”
“Then we’ll take it to West Coast Collision on Country Club Boulevard.”
“I know where it is.” He signed the paperwork and watched the man walk back to his truck.
Erin tilted her head toward the unmarked Lee County vehicle. “Come on and I’ll take you home. But I’m still insisting you need to find some other living arrangements, preferably somewhere away from Lee County.”
“I’ll think about it.” Not that it would change anything. He couldn’t walk away from his business, regardless of whatever danger he found himself in.
He walked with her toward her SUV. “Do you mind taking me by Enterprise? I need to rent a car. I still have a couple of appointments in Fort Myers. I’ll just be late.”
“I don’t know.” Though her gaze held sternness, there was humor behind it. “If you don’t have wheels, you’ll have to stay home.” As she walked toward the vehicle, her smile faded and she grew serious. “We’re trying to solve this thing. The arson investigators are handling the explosives end of things, but Lee County is working on your grandfather’s homicide.”
Cody’s step faltered. Homicide. The word sounded so cold and unemotional. It was used to describe people on TV—characters on crime shows, strangers in the news.
It didn’t belong paired with the most important man in Cody’s life.