Kaleb hunkered down in the shadows with Sierra at his side. The dog sprawled across his lap, which kept him warm enough. The ground was hard and cold beneath his backside, but he ignored the discomfort as he sipped his coffee.
He thought about what Charlotte had said about needing to relocate. It sounded as if it was something they’d done before, which shouldn’t have been necessary. He knew he hadn’t been followed, yet following her hadn’t been that difficult.
Clearly, the dark-haired guy had done that too.
Kaleb almost hoped the guy would show up again. This time, he wouldn’t hesitate to give chase, especially now that he knew the little pixie was packing heat. The way she’d held the weapon had convinced him she knew how to use it.
He silently prayed she’d never have to.
The night slipped past, hour by hour. He walked with Sierra to stay awake. He scouted his surroundings, making sure there were no hidden surprises. The safe house location was perfect, and if not for his following Charlotte, he likely wouldn’t have found it.
By morning, his bum knee hurt like crazy, the cold dampness not helping his newly constructed joint one bit. On the bright side, he hadn’t slept and therefore hadn’t suffered any nightmares or severe headaches.
He’d take the small blessings.
Charlotte opened the door and peered out at him. “You’re still here.”
He frowned. “Of course, what did you expect? I promised to stay.”
“I know, it’s just—you must be freezing. And probably need to use the bathroom.”
“It’s not that cold,” he protested, despite his aching knee. “But I wouldn’t mind taking you up on the bathroom break.”
“Come inside, then.” She opened the door wider to provide access. “Thankfully, everyone is still asleep.”
He took that to mean he should get in and out as quickly as possible. After stepping across the threshold, he handed her the empty coffee mug and gave Sierra the hand signal to sit, then added, “Guard.”
“She can do that?” Charlotte asked.
“Yeah. I’ve been working with her over the past few months.”
“This way.” She led him down the hall and gestured to a small bathroom. When he emerged a few minutes later, she handed him the mug back. “Fresh coffee.”
“Thanks. As soon as the stores open, I’ll head out to buy a replacement door handle.” He turned to head back outside.
“Wait.” The pixie surprised him by putting a hand on his arm. “I’ll make you something for breakfast. I’m not the cook Milly is, but I can make eggs.”
He looked down at her. This close, he could see that her eyes were a deep aquamarine framed by dark lashes. She wore her dark hair short, which suited her dainty features. But then he frowned when he noticed a thin white scar near the corner of her right eye. He had to resist the urge to trace it with his finger. “You don’t have to cook for me,” he managed. “I’ll have to head back to the motel at some point to feed Sierra anyway.”
She glanced at the dog, still sitting tall in front of the door. “I don’t have any dog food, sorry.”
“I didn’t expect you to,” he responded.
“How do you like your eggs?” she asked. “Sunny-side up or scrambled? If I try anything fancier, you’ll be disappointed.”
Her wry humor made him smile. “Scrambled works great, please. And thanks.”
“I’m the one who is thankful for you standing guard all night.” She turned back to the kitchen. “Take a chair and sit near the door with your dog. No need to stay outside. I’m sure if that guy was planning to come back, he’d have shown up by now.”
Since he agreed with her assessment, he acquiesced. Watching her work in the small kitchen made him remember his brief, ill-fated marriage. Blanche had been beautiful, and things had been great when he was home. But she had been woefully underwhelmed with what it was truly like being married to a SEAL. When he’d returned after a deployment, he’d found a brief note on top of a stack of divorce papers on the kitchen table.
I need a man who will be there for me. Sign these and send them back to the lawyer, Blanche.
Kaleb would have given his life for Blanche, but he also knew he couldn’t do squat for her while he was deployed overseas. Which was more often than not.
He’d considered finding her and begging her to try again but realized nothing would change. He was in the navy for the long haul, so he signed the papers and sent them back. And just like that, his two-year marriage was over.
As if it had never been.
From that point forward, he’d kept his relationships short and sweet. Here today, gone tomorrow. No strings, just good times.
“Kaleb?” Charlotte was looking at him oddly. He realized he’d missed whatever she’d said.
“Sorry, zoned out for a minute.”
“That’s because you were awake all night.” She waved the spatula at him. “I asked if you wanted toast too.”
“That would be great.” He shook off the remnants of the past. “Do you really have to move?”
Charlotte didn’t answer for a long moment. “We should, yes. But it won’t happen quickly. Finding a good location, getting the appropriate funding takes time. If the police catch this guy in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, then we could stay.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “But you and I both know that’s not likely.”
“I know I wasn’t followed, Charlotte,” he said. “And that guy was pretty surprised to hear me shout at him.”
Her aquamarine eyes widened. “Me? You think he followed me?”
“Yes.” He wouldn’t lie to her. “The same way I did.”
She flushed and shook her head. “I tried so hard to avoid that. Only to have failed, twice.”
“In all fairness, I’m pretty good at what I do.” SEALs were known for their stealth. “You reported the guy following you to the police? A Detective Grimes?”
“I did.” The toast popped, so she smeared it with butter and put it on the plate along with a pile of scrambled eggs. She brought it over to him. “I thought I lost him on the subway.”
“That was a smart move.” He dug in to his meal with enthusiasm.
“One that didn’t work,” she said with a sigh.
He hoped that didn’t mean the dark-haired guy had an accomplice. He ate in silence, hoping to finish up before any of the residents woke up.
A plump woman with choppy brown hair streaked with gray came into the kitchen. She nearly shrieked when she saw him, putting a hand over her heart. “You scared me to death,” she accused.
“Milly, this is Kaleb Tyson, he and his dog, Sierra, stood guard outside the safe house all night.”
“You let him inside?” Milly asked in astonishment. “You never do that.”
“He deserves something to eat after what he did for us.” Charlotte eyed the woman. “You have a problem with that?”
“Me? No. But some of the others are skittish . . .” Milly’s voice trailed off as she nudged Charlotte away from the stove.
“I’m leaving soon.” Kaleb took a bite of his toast. “And I’m happy to sit outside, if needed.”
“You’re fine for a few more minutes,” Charlotte reassured him. “We are in your debt, Kaleb.”
“Not at all. I offered and don’t need anything in return.” In fact, he preferred it that way. “Anything else you can tell me about Ava? Or her boyfriend? I’m assuming the guy hit her if she ended up here.”
Milly eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you looking for Ava?”
“He’s a SEAL teammate of Jaydon’s,” Charlotte explained quickly. “And yes, Simon hit her several times. When she landed in the hospital with a concussion, we were notified. I went to pick her up and brought her here.”
“Simon have a last name?” he asked.
“Simon Marks,” Milly answered. “Ava pressed charges against him, but they let him out on bail.” The woman sniffed. “As if that helps the situation any.”
The last name Nico had been given was something different, a Simon Normandy, not Marks. He pulled out his phone and shot his teammate a text. New intel on Simon, last name Marks?
There was no immediate response. Either Nico was sleeping or he was following a hot lead.
Kaleb quickly finished his breakfast and handed his plate to Charlotte. “Thanks, I best be heading outside. The closest hardware store opens at nine o’clock. I can get the necessary supplies if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but it’s my responsibility.” Charlotte took the plate. “I’ll get what I need. You don’t have to stay.”
“Yeah, I do.” Hearing movement from one of the rooms on the other side of the living space, he strode quickly to the door. “Come, Sierra.” He stepped outside with his dog, then closed the door behind him.
He stood leaning against the building, thinking about Ava. This lead hadn’t provided much information, yet every scrap of intel was better than none. Still, he didn’t think sticking around would gain him anything. Ava had stayed here after suffering a concussion, but then she had taken off without telling anyone.
Leaving no hint behind as to where she may have gone.
Absently rubbing his aching knee, Kaleb thought about his next steps. Without anything other than the boyfriend’s name, he had no idea where to look.
Besides, he couldn’t just walk away. Not now. It wasn’t in his DNA to leave a group of women alone and vulnerable.
Charlotte needed help. At least for a couple of days. Maybe he could set a trap for the dark-haired guy so that Charlotte and her residents wouldn’t be forced into moving to a new and secure location.
Kaleb glanced down at Sierra. “I see many more hours of sitting outside in our future, girl,” he said.
Sierra licked his fingers in agreement.
Charlotte emerged from the safe house at a quarter to nine. He pushed away from the wall. “I hate that you’re going alone. Please let me get the supplies for you.”
She hesitated. “It’s better to have you remain here to keep an eye on the safe house until I get back.”
“I don’t mind, and I’m pretty sure you’re just as armed and dangerous,” he pointed out.
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I left my gun with Milly. We both have permits and practice every two weeks.”
He could tell he wasn’t going to be able to sway her, so he nodded. “Okay, but be safe. I can pick up the cameras later if you are able to stay. Oh, and take my phone number in case you need something.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
After they exchanged phone numbers, she left, walking at a brisk pace. He stared for a moment at the number he’d added to his contact list, with her name above it.
Why did he feel like he was a twenty-year-old kid scoring the pretty girl’s phone number? He rolled his eyes at his own foolishness.
Time to get a grip. He was only sticking around for a few days. He didn’t live in LA and had never wanted to.
Once he knew Charlotte and her residents were safe, he’d be on his way.
To what? He wasn’t quite sure.
Charlotte made her way down the block, resisting the urge to look back at Kaleb. What was wrong with her? First cooking for him, now wishing he’d come with her? She shook her head. Just because he was one of the nicest guys she’d met in what seemed like forever didn’t mean she should allow herself to get too close.
Kaleb was only here because of Ava. And the moment she had the door repaired, he’d leave to continue searching for the missing woman.
She admired Kaleb for his determination to find Ava. So many women disappeared, never to be heard from again, and most of the time, nothing much was done about it. He seemed to be an honorable man, a rarity these days.
Well, probably not really. Charlotte knew that her view of men was skewed, first by Jerry and then by the other women she’d surrounded herself with. Women who’d learned the hard way that men who hit were always sorry but didn’t stop.
Not without a lot of counseling or prison time. Often both.
Jerry had been arrested, and she’d pressed charges against him the first time he’d hit her. Unfortunately, he hadn’t done much time, and when he’d gotten out of jail, he’d found her again. That assault had been the last straw. After waking up in the hospital, she’d skedaddled out of Minneapolis, making her way across the country to finally end up here in Los Angeles.
Last time she’d looked him up, Jerry had pictures online boasting of his recent marriage to a woman by the name of Darla. A woman she felt sorry for as she knew it was only a matter of time before Jerry took his anger out on her too.
Keeping a keen eye out for the dark-haired man, Charlotte crossed the street and turned left. She knew where the closest hardware store was located as she’d been there before. One of her residents had lost it one night shortly after Ava had left and punched a hole in the wall. Charlotte had gone to buy plaster and paint to repair the damage.
Normally the women and children who came to stay didn’t lash out in violence, but this had been a rare exception. Charlotte had insisted Jane get intensive counseling or leave.
Jane had chosen to leave.
It was difficult to let go. Charlotte knew that Jane would ultimately end up in another abusive relationship. It was a pattern she’d witnessed before. She and the social workers who referred clients did good work and had saved many women and children from harm or worse, death, by providing them safety and security.
Along with the opportunity to start over.
But she couldn’t save them all. Some, like Ava and Jane, refused to be saved.
After taking a long, circuitous route, Charlotte arrived at the hardware store. She stepped inside and went straight to the section of door handles. The model wasn’t anything fancy, but it was the most heavy-duty door handle available. She purchased what she needed, along with new locks and keys, then prepared to walk back.
The moment she stepped out of the doorway, she glimpsed a dark-haired man hurrying away. On reflex, she whirled and went back inside the store, her heart thudding painfully against her ribs.
The same guy as last night? Highly doubtful. The gunfire had unnerved her to the point she hadn’t been able to get much sleep. Deep down, she’d assumed Kaleb had given up his watch, leaving them alone.
She drew in a deep, ragged breath. Nearly four million people lived in LA, and with the large Hispanic population, the majority had dark hair. She couldn’t even say if the guy she’d glimpsed was white or Hispanic, much less match him with the man who’d followed her a few days ago.
Time to stop letting her imagination run away with her. The chances of the dark-haired man finding her at the hardware store were slim to none.
Unless, of course, he’d assumed she’d be here bright and early to fix the door he’d busted.
She shivered and patted her pocket for her phone. Then she dropped her hand. No, she wasn’t going to call Kaleb. He was needed more at the safe house. While Milly did know how to use a gun and took target practice lessons, the woman was a terrible shot. And unfortunately, the housekeeper’s skills hadn’t improved over time.
“Can I help you with something?”
The deep voice at her elbow made her jump and stumble backward. Her cheeks flushed as she looked at the older man who stood there. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
His expression said he didn’t believe her, but he moved away. Charlotte tightened her grip on the bag and resolutely pushed the door open.
She lingered outside the store, taking a moment to look both ways up and down the street. Thankfully, there wasn’t a dark-haired man lurking nearby. The guy she’d seen was probably harmless. Yet, old habits died hard, so she turned left in the opposite direction from the safe house, deciding to take the subway.
Kaleb had said using the subway was a smart move. The memory of his praise gave her a warm glow. Maybe he’d been humoring her, but it couldn’t hurt to deploy the same tactic again.
Moving through the city while constantly looking over her shoulder reminded her of those first few days after she’d left Jerry. The man who’d professed to love her had isolated her from her friends, making her feel alone. Then he had lashed out at her physically while blaming her for his anger.
Typical of men who are controlling. She was smart, had graduated from college with an accounting degree, but yet she’d stupidly fallen for his fake charm. And his apparent concern, which was really nothing more than a ploy to keep her under his thumb.
She hurried down to the subway station, idly fingering her closely cropped hair. Cutting it off had been symbolic and cathartic.
His first assault had been to hit her in the head with a beer bottle, causing her to need several stitches above her right eye. Jerry had accompanied her to the hospital, trying to explain that she’d hit her head on a cabinet door, but she could tell the ER doc hadn’t believed him. When Jerry stepped out to get coffee, she’d explained what had happened, and they’d called the police to haul him away.
Only he hadn’t stayed in jail for long. His bail had been set for a ridiculously low amount, and he’d gotten out. He’d found where she was staying and had pushed his way inside. Then he’d grabbed her by the hair, slamming her head against the kitchen counter. She’d blacked out and had woken in the hospital.
The doc had once again wanted her to press charges, but she was too afraid. The cold, angry expression in Jerry’s eyes had scared her to death. What if they let him out again? She felt certain he’d find her and kill her.
So she’d left the hospital without pressing charges and had gone to a safe house in Minneapolis. After a few days, she had cleaned out her meager savings and headed west, stopping only when she needed more money.
The once brilliant accountant waitressed in truck stop cafés to earn money for the next leg of her journey. Soon, she’d stopped looking over her shoulder and had begun to feel safe and secure in her new life.
Until now.
Threading her way through the crowds, she did her best to disappear. Her slender build helped as much as it hindered. She couldn’t easily see beyond the tall people around her if the dark-haired guy was nearby.
Even if he was, she was safe enough. He’d made his move late at night using a gun to bulldoze his way into the safe house.
Not likely he’d try something in broad daylight with hundreds of witnesses.
As she moved onto the subway with the others, she wondered which resident the guy was targeting. Emma was their newest addition, along with a woman named LeeAnn. Then again, Jodie Armbruster and her young daughter, Angela, had come just a few days earlier than those two. And before that was Willow and her son, Tommy.
She made a mental note to question them about their abusers. Willow had sported dozens of bruises on her chest and arms, and her six-year-old son, Tommy, had come in with a black eye.
Any man who would give a six-year-old a black eye deserved to rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life. Too bad the penalty for child and spousal abuse wasn’t as severe as she’d like.
Only when the injuries reached the level of severe bodily harm or attempted murder did the abuser get significant jail time. And even then a good lawyer often got them off without doing much except promising to go to anger management classes.
As if that helped.
Charlotte shook off her dour thoughts and got off the subway after two stops. Then she backtracked, walking to another subway stop that would take her closer to the safe house.
While sandwiched between a teenage boy and a man old enough to be her father, her phone buzzed. Easing it from her pocket, she smiled when she saw Kaleb’s text. Where r u? Everything okay?
With a bit of jostling and tucking her bag from the hardware store beneath her arm, she was able to type back. Fine, taking the long way home.
Why? Did someone scare u?
His instincts were on right track, even though he was proving to be a bigger worrywart than Milly. I’m fine, be there soon.
Ok.
She stared at the text exchange feeling a bit foolish. At her age, thirty-seven-and-a-half and counting, she was too old to act like a high school teenager looking for a prom date. Besides, Kaleb was way out of her league.
Too handsome, too big, and too strong. Too charming.
Too—everything.
Shaking her head at her ridiculous thoughts, she exited the train and hurried up to the street level. As she turned to the right, she saw him.
The dark-haired man!
Without hesitation, she ducked back into the subway station, going back down to the familiar crowds. Her palms were damp with sweat, and she had to grip the hardware store bag tighter to avoid dropping it.
Was it the same man as before? Or was she losing her mind? Had he seen her?
The train had already left, forcing her to wait for the next one. She positioned herself near a concrete post where she could watch the down escalator.
It only took a minute to see the same dark-haired man step onto the escalator. She tried to get a better look at his features, but it wasn’t easy as he was moving and other much taller people kept getting in her way.
This time she knew for certain he was looking for her. He must have seen her come out of the subway station and dart back inside.
She tightened her grip on the bag containing the heavy-duty metal door handle. It wasn’t a gun, but she’d use it as a weapon if needed.
When she lost sight of the dark-haired man, she eased along the other edge of the concrete pillar, keeping it between her and the stranger. His dark clothing blended in with the others too well, but she managed to see him walking past, his head swiveling from side to side as he scanned the crowd looking for her.
If he was closer, she’d swing the door handle in her bag at his head. But after he’d walked past, she decided to make a run for it. First, she shrugged out of her jacket, then eased out from behind the pillar. She hurried to catch up with two young girls chatting about boys.
“Excuse me, do you know which way Duncan Street is?” She leaned forward, wedging herself between them to make it appear as if the three of them were traveling together.
Or so she hoped.
“Um, yeah, I think it’s a couple of blocks to the right,” the one girl said. The other one looked at her strangely as if wondering why she was invading their personal space.
“Thanks, I’m new to the area, and I am always getting lost.” She didn’t dare look back over her shoulder. The escalator seemed to move with excruciating slowness, but they finally reached the top. Charlotte stayed with the girls until they were outside on the street.
Then she began to run.