Everything on Meagan Berry’s front porch was white—white siding, white front door, white railing and white deck boards. Even the Adirondack chair and matching side table were painted white.
But when Hunter eased to a stop in the driveway, a new object had been added. A shiny blue tin sat atop the small table, a spot of bright color in the midst of none.
He nodded in that direction. “Is that yours?”
Meagan followed his gaze. “It wasn’t there when Darci picked me up this morning. But if I had to guess, I’d say Mrs. Tackett has been busy in the kitchen again. She’s always baking or cooking something and sharing it.”
He followed Meagan onto the porch and watched her remove the card taped to the lid.
“Just what I thought.” She angled the note toward him. “Thanks for being so sweet. I hope you like no-bake brownies. And she signed it Margaret Tackett.” Meagan picked up the tin and unlocked the front door.
He frowned. More than a week had passed since the attempt on her life. But that didn’t mean the person had given up. Maybe he was just waiting for her to let down her guard. “Has Mrs. Tackett ever made brownies for you before?”
“Brownies, cookies, cake, homemade vegetable soup, you name it.” Meagan gave him a teasing smile. “Somehow, I don’t think she’s much of a threat.”
He followed her inside, where she placed the tin on the counter and removed the lid. “Mmm, they look good.”
He leaned forward and took a long sniff. Peanut butter, cocoa, nuts and...something else he couldn’t quite place.
Meagan started to reach for one, but he held up a hand. “Wait. I’d feel better if we talked to Mrs. Tackett first.”
“What, are you going to ask her if she poisoned my brownies?”
“No, I’m going to ask her if she left the brownies.”
Meagan’s eyes widened. “You think they might have come from someone else?”
“Probably not. But there’s already been one attempt on your life. I’m not willing to risk the possibility that someone slipped poison into these and put your neighbor’s name on the card. If Mrs. Tackett says she made them, fine. I’ll even have one with you.”
Meagan pressed the lid back on. “All right. Let’s go visit my neighbor.”
When Mrs. Tackett answered their knock, an enticing aroma wafted out the door. Hunter’s stomach rumbled in response. The next item on his agenda would be dinner. Nothing nearly as enticing as whatever Mrs. Tackett had made. More like leftovers. Unless he wanted to go out. Maybe he could convince Meagan to go with him.
She stepped forward to greet the older woman, then got right to the point. “This is going to sound strange, but did you leave a tin of no-bake brownies on my porch today?”
Mrs. Tackett’s brows lifted, deepening the lines running across her forehead. “No, they weren’t from me. Did you check with Sydney Tanner? She likes to bake.”
“No, I—I haven’t.” Meagan’s voice was weak and held a slight quiver. “Maybe I’ll do that.”
She made her way toward the sidewalk. Her eyes were round, and her face had lost three shades of color.
He touched a hand to the small of her back. “Are you okay?”
“The brownies came from whoever is trying to kill me. If you hadn’t been with me...” She let the thought trail off, apparently unwilling to voice the likely outcome. He didn’t want to think about it, either.
“We need to call the police.”
She gave him a weak smile. “You are the police.”
“We need a policeman who’s on duty. They’ll take the tin and turn it over to Levy County. Then it’ll go to a lab for the contents to be tested. I’m guessing they’ll find an ingredient the recipe doesn’t call for.” One intended to kill her.
His chest tightened. She was right. If he hadn’t been there, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. She would have eaten one of the brownies immediately. Maybe two or three.
He called 911, then pocketed his phone. “How about letting me take you to dinner once the police report is done?”
She stepped onto her porch and unlocked the front door. “I don’t think I can eat. For some reason, I’ve lost my appetite.”
That sense of protectiveness that had filled him earlier surged up again, stronger than ever. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“You’ll have to at some point.”
“Not if I can help it.” He followed her inside. “Any chance Edmund is behind all this?”
She looked at him askance. “Making poisoned no-bake brownies? No way.”
“Based on everything you’ve told me, I would tend to agree. So what else can you tell me about him, besides that he’s big and tough?”
“That’s not Edmund.”
“What?”
She sat on the couch, and Hunter settled in next to her.
“Edmund is tall and slender. Very cultured. But as cold as ice.”
“So who is the big, tough guy who’s been looking for you?”
“Lou. He works for Edmund. Lou will keep looking till he finds me. Then he’ll give Edmund my whereabouts, and Edmund will come after me himself. He wouldn’t give that pleasure up to anyone.”
That made sense. But there was still one piece Hunter hadn’t been able to fit into the puzzle. Before he could voice the question, the doorbell rang. It was Gary, another of his colleagues.
Once Gary had finished his investigation and left with the suspicious blue tin, Hunter turned to Meagan. “I never got a definitive answer on dinner.”
“That’s because I’m undecided.”
“Come on, it beats sitting here alone. As long as you’re with me, you’ll have your own personal bodyguard.”
The corners of her mouth quirked up. “You can’t imagine how appealing that is.”
“I know I’d rest easier.”
He followed her out the door, then helped her into his truck. After starting the engine, he let it idle. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. Supposedly the attempts on your life are in retaliation for you killing someone.”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out myself. I can’t see those accusations coming from Edmund. He never once insinuated that I had anything to do with Charlie’s murder.”
Hunter shifted into reverse and backed into the street. “What about Charlie’s family? Maybe a girlfriend or wife?”
“Charlie wasn’t married. I don’t think he had a girlfriend, either.”
“How well did you know him?”
“Pretty well. He lived in a cottage on Edmund’s property. He wasn’t highly educated, but he had a tender side and loved poetry.” She released a wistful sigh. “We used to trade books back and forth. He had one that we both loved—an old volume of classic poetry. A few hours after I discovered his body, I found it in the atrium, about twenty feet from where he was killed. I think he was leaving it for me.”
Hunter eased to a stop, then made a right on D Street. He would head toward Dock, where several restaurants overlooked the water.
“Did anyone question the fact that Charlie had been killed inside the house late at night, when he had his own place on the property?”
“Not really. Charlie was responsible for maintaining all the plants in the atrium. So he was in and out all the time, had a key and everything. It was a little odd, though, for him to have come in late at night, after I had gone to bed. At the time, I just figured he’d forgotten something. So I didn’t really question it. When he turned up dead, I thought he couldn’t pay his debt in cash, so they’d made him pay with his life. Then I found the blackmail note.”
“So Charlie was desperate for money and figured he’d get it the easy way. He tried blackmailing Edmund and it backfired.”
She nodded. “He should have known better than to—”
Just ahead of them a beat-up red Camaro flew right though the stop sign at Third. Hunter jammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel to the left, barely missing the rear bumper of the old sports car. A familiar figure sat at the wheel. No, he couldn’t let this go. The kid was going to kill someone.
“I know I’m not on duty, but I’ve got to go after him before someone gets hurt.”
Meagan’s eyes were wide. The close call had shaken her as badly as it had him. “Do you know him?”
He did a one-eighty and took off after the Camaro. “Donny Blanchard. He used to be one of the kids in my Sunday school class. About three years ago he dropped out of church and has been getting into trouble ever since. Nothing serious. Just mischief.”
Hunter followed the car through several turns until it made a left onto Airport Road. Since it led nowhere but the airport, they were the only two vehicles on the road. Which gave him the perfect conditions for what he needed to do.
He accelerated to ease up next to the other car and was met with Donny’s grinning face. The kid wasn’t speeding. If he hadn’t just run a stop sign, Hunter wouldn’t even have gone after him.
When Donny showed no signs of stopping, Hunter pointed to the side of the road. When that didn’t work, he crept closer, until Meagan could have reached over and wrapped her fingers around the kid’s throat. Except she was too busy maintaining a death grip on the door handle.
Finally, Donny jammed on the brakes and pulled over. Hunter stopped in front of him and walked back to the car. Donny stared through the driver’s side window, still holding on to that cocky grin.
Hunter knocked twice. “Roll down the window.”
Finally, Donny complied, but the cockiness remained. “You can’t give me a ticket. You’re not on duty.”
The words almost didn’t register. The odor did. Alcohol. Heavy. The kid was drinking and driving.
Hunter swallowed hard. Fire started deep in his gut, searing a path upward and exploding through his mind. He grabbed the kid by the shirt collar and jerked him toward the window.
“Hey, man, let go of me.”
The cockiness so obvious moments earlier had fled without a trace. But Hunter wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot. Red-hot fury pumped through his veins. The kid was drunk. At age eighteen, that in itself was illegal. But he had also just endangered the lives of everyone in Cedar Key.
Hunter gave him a firm shake. “You’re driving drunk.” His voice was several decibels louder than normal. “You could have killed someone.”
“I’m not drunk.” Fear had replaced the cockiness in his eyes. “I had a few beers. That’s all. No hard stuff.”
“You’re impaired. You ran a stop sign and almost hit us. There could have been someone walking, crossing the road. Or someone in a small car.” A Honda Civic. Broad-sided. Pushed sideways thirty feet from the force of the impact and pinned against a tree.
He tried to erase the image from his mind, but it wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t even fade. Every detail was as crisp and clear as it had been four years ago. The fury pounded harder.
He gave the kid another yank. His head was now halfway through the window opening. Hunter would have punched him if he could get away with it. “You shouldn’t drink. Period.” He shouted the words, even though the kid’s face was inches from his own. “But if you do, don’t ever be stupid enough to get behind the wheel of a car. Do you hear me?”
Donny didn’t answer, just stared with wide, fear-filled eyes.
Hunter gave him another shake. “Do you hear me?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
“Don’t ever do that again.”
“N-no, sir. I won’t. Ever. I promise.”
Hunter released his grip on the kid’s collar one finger at a time as the tidal wave subsided. He needed to call 911, get Gary back out. Someone had to get Donny off the street before he killed someone.
When Hunter glanced back at his truck, Meagan was watching him through the rear window. As soon as his eyes met hers, she turned away. Uneasiness darkened the edges of his mind.
A few minutes later, he left Donny in Gary’s capable hands and walked back to the truck. After sliding into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at Meagan. The same fear he had seen on Donny’s face was reflected in her eyes. The uneasiness intensified.
“He was drinking and driving. He could have killed someone. I’m just trying to keep him from ruining his life.”
She nodded, but didn’t speak. A wall had gone up, and she was retreating behind it.
He had to make her understand. “Kids like that don’t respond to namby-pamby pleas to do the right thing. You’ve got to be tough on them.”
She nodded again and swallowed hard. “I think I’d rather go home. I’m really not hungry.”
His heart sank. Everything between them had changed. She was now afraid of him. Or at the least, guarded around him. Given her past, he could understand why. He had to make her see that he wasn’t like Edmund. Or any other abusive man she had known.
“Donny used to be a good kid. I’m worried about him. I’m trying to get him back on the right track.”
“It’s okay.” She tried to force a smile. At least that was what he thought it was. One side of her mouth quivered but didn’t manage to really lift. She gave up on the attempt. “I just want to go home. It’s been a long day.”
He heaved a sigh. “All right. I’ll take you home.” He had no choice. He would make sure the house was secure and pray like crazy that she would be safe till morning.
As he began moving back down Airport Road, regret bore down on him, guilt over the way he had handled the situation with Donny. Yes, kids like that needed firmness. Someone who cared enough to come down hard on them when necessary. Tough love. But that wasn’t what he had given.
Because standing next to the runway back there, he hadn’t been looking at an eighteen-year-old kid. He’d been seeing a forty-year-old man arguing with cops, obstinate and without remorse, while rescue workers struggled to free a young woman who lay pinned and dying in a mass of mangled metal.
No matter how much time passed, he would never erase the image. Or stem the anger that surged through him every time he remembered.
He wanted Meagan to trust him, not fear him. And he had made progress. But tonight, he had blown it. He had lost control.
And Meagan had watched.
* * *
A bell jangled, and Meagan turned from stocking a shelf in time to see two familiar figures enter the store. Darci’s mother was an older version of Darci, with the same deep brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. She currently held the hand of her grandson, Jayden.
Darci hurried around the counter and swept the towheaded child into her arms. “Hi, sweetie. How’s my boy? Did you miss Mommy?”
Instead of responding, Jayden’s attention remained on the object he held, a toy cell phone. Now that both hands were free, his thumbs worked over the screen, creating a series of beeps.
He stiffened his body, a cue that he wanted down, and she placed him on the floor.
“Let me grab my purse, and I’ll be ready.” For once, Darci was subdued, lines of concern marring her features.
When she reached the door, her mom gave her a hug. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, God will give us the strength to handle it.”
As Meagan watched them step outside, a wave of homesickness washed through her, an intense longing to see her own mother again. Three months had passed since she had last heard her voice, and much longer since she had talked freely. Throughout the year before she’d had to disappear, she’d been guarded, infusing her tone with false cheer, saying everything was fine when it wasn’t. Otherwise, her mother would have charged right over, at the risk of all of their lives, demanding to know what Edmund was doing to make her girl unhappy. Her mom had always been her protector, champion and best friend.
But Meagan didn’t begrudge Darci this time with her mom, especially this afternoon. Jayden was two and hadn’t yet started to talk. Darci claimed she had talked late, too, and had been making up for it ever since. But coupling that with some other signs, she couldn’t deny it any longer. Something was wrong.
So this afternoon, the three of them were headed to Gainesville to see a child psychologist. Hopefully, the diagnosis would be good—a little delayed development that would work itself out in time. Although no one had mentioned the word autism, Meagan had been thinking it and was pretty sure Darci was, too.
With a sigh, Meagan returned to arranging the figurines she had unboxed before Darci’s mother came in. Just as she finished, the bell on the front door sounded. Tension spiked through her. She drew in a calming breath and tried to slow her racing pulse. She worked in a gift shop. She couldn’t recoil in fear every time a customer walked in.
This time it wasn’t a customer. It was Hunter, in uniform, with a gun at his hip. The sight was comforting. But he wasn’t the only one looking out for her. A killer was loose on the island. And for whatever reason, she was the target. So Cedar Key had enlisted the aid of Levy County. A plainclothes detective was currently watching her house, with another keeping an eye on the store. A third was inside, inconspicuous but ever vigilant. Hunter was making regular stops, as were the other officers. Whoever was after her would be hard-pressed to get anywhere near her.
Unless it was Edmund.
She climbed onto the bar stool behind the counter and gave Hunter an uneasy smile.
He returned it, his no more comfortable than hers. Things had been strained between them since the incident with the kid in the Camaro. As she had gotten to know Hunter over the past month, he had impressed her more than she wanted to admit. He was kind, gentle, caring—a true public servant. Without even realizing it, she had begun to look on him as a hero, a knight in shining armor.
Two nights ago, that image had been shattered. He was just a man, the same as the others she had known. Sweet and charming, but capable of abuse if provoked. She had wanted to believe he was somehow different, which had been stupid. She didn’t believe in fairy tales, hadn’t even as a kid. Why start now?
Hunter rested a forearm against the counter. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Darci left a few minutes ago.”
“So you’re by yourself.”
“As by myself as I can be with half of Cedar Key and Levy County watching me.” And others in an unofficial capacity, like Hunter’s friend Blake.
“Right now, all those extra eyes are good.” There was a seriousness in his tone that was reflected in his gaze.
“Believe me, I’m not complaining.”
She reached for a spiral notebook she had placed on the counter earlier. When she met Hunter’s eyes again, the seriousness was still there. He had something else to say.
“The lab results came back on the brownies.”
“And?”
“Cyanide.”
She swallowed hard. She had expected the tests to show some kind of poison, but hearing it confirmed filled her gut with lead.
“Is that even available?”
“Not for the average person. Not in the US, anyway.”
She shook her head. “I came so close to eating them. I would have if you hadn’t stopped me.” Her gaze locked with his, and the last of the stiffness between them dissolved. “You saved my life.”
He lifted his hand, then, halfway to her face, let it fall. “It’s all in a day’s work.” His mouth curled up, the smile at odds with the seriousness still lingering in his eyes.
And it was that seriousness, and the sincerity behind it, that was wreaking havoc with her defenses. She flipped open the notebook, thankful for a ready distraction. Here she was, three months out of a yearlong nightmare, and ready to head down the same dangerous path. She straightened her spine, determined to hold on to her resolve. Hopefully, her brain had the sense to never again let her fall for another man’s charm, even if her heart didn’t.
She dropped her eyes to the page. “I figured while Darci was gone, I’d do some creative work. I’m designing brochures for the store. I thought if we put them in some of the other establishments around town, it might help to drum up business.”
Hunter nodded. “Good idea. You know, Darci’s glad she hired you.”
“I hope so.” Because most of the time Meagan felt as if she really wasn’t needed.
But not according to her boss. Even though she had never hired staff in the past, Darci claimed she wanted a part-time assistant so she could spend more time with Jayden.
Meagan knew better. It was an excuse, a way to offer much-needed help without making her feel like a charity case. If anyone deserved a break, it was Darci. She spent her whole life doing for others. If the God she served was as loving as she claimed, He’d fix this problem with Jayden.
Hunter tapped the counter. “I guess I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be back at six to take you home.”
Meagan watched him walk out the front and get into his patrol car. For several moments after he drove away, she stared at the vacated parking space. If she had to have a cop in her business, why did it have to be someone like Hunter, whose sweetness and charm and good looks sent a constant barrage of cannonballs flying at her defenses? Why couldn’t it be someone old and married?
She propped her elbows on the counter and rested her chin in her hands. The noonday sun streamed in the front door and plate-glass window, falling across the painting she had displayed there. Completed last weekend, it rested on an easel next to the door, a pelican on a dock set against a blazing sunset, palm fronds hanging in the foreground. Like all her paintings now, it was signed M. Berry.
Her artwork provided a nice secondary income, helping supplement her part-time job at Darci’s. Or maybe her job at Darci’s supplemented her painting. Either way, she needed both to survive.
Throughout the afternoon, only a handful of customers came into the store, giving her large blocks of time to work on the brochure. As promised, Hunter arrived a few minutes before six to take her home. While she closed up and bade the detective farewell, Hunter waited at the door. No longer on duty, he was dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt. The bottom tip of a holster peeked out from below the hem.
Moments later he slid into the truck across from her. “Have you talked to Darci yet?”
“Not yet.” Meagan entwined her fingers in her lap and fought against the urge to squirm. “I will, though. I just haven’t found a good time.”
“We talked about this a week ago.” He pulled away from the curb and began moving down Second Street. “Darci needs to know, but I think you should be the one to tell her.”
“I know. And I will.” Sometime. Once she got up the courage. She was just putting it off, hanging on to her job as long as possible. Because once Darci knew she had lied to her, she would likely lose that job.
Hunter slowed to make the left onto Fifth Street and glanced over at her. “Do you trust her?”
“Yes, I trust her. But that’s not the point. I lied to her. She would have every reason to fire me.”
“I know Darci really well. And I think I’m pretty safe in assuming that she’ll stick by you. But she needs to know.” He eased to a stop in the driveway and turned off the ignition. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”
Meagan crossed her arms and glared at him. “I said I’ll tell her. You don’t have to threaten me.”
Without waiting for a response, she stepped from the truck and slammed the door. Wearing a badge didn’t give Hunter the right to order her around. Of course, he probably claimed that right because of his status as a man.
Like every man she had ever known. At least those she’d been closest to. First came the charm. Then the control. Then the rage when other people, and life in general, didn’t fall into place. It was one of the first things she had learned as a child, almost before learning to walk, a lesson that was pounded into her anew each time her dad had left her mother bruised and bloody.
Meagan strode toward the house and climbed the porch steps. The detective was somewhere nearby, watching them. But he was easy to ignore. Right now, she just wanted to get away from Hunter’s prying gaze, into the privacy of her home.
She pulled the key from her purse. Hunter was beside her before she could unlock the door.
“Look, Meagan, I’m not trying to threaten you.”
“Do this or else—that’s a threat, any way you look at it.” She jammed the key into the lock.
“I didn’t mean it as a threat. I’m just giving you a nudge.”
Yeah, a nudge. A sharp jab with a cattle prod to produce the desired result. She had lots of experience with nudges. They could be quite painful.
She turned to face Hunter. She had seen him lose it. He had dragged the kid halfway through the window before he got control of himself. Was he capable of the same brutality as her father and Edmund? Maybe, maybe not. She wasn’t going to get close enough to find out.
She heaved a sigh. “I’ll talk to Darci when she comes in tomorrow.”
As she turned toward the door, a series of sounds stopped her cold—an almost imperceptible whoosh, following by a thwing and a grunt, all in a fraction of a second. She spun around. Hunter stood clutching his upper arm as blood oozed between his fingers. Next to him, an arrow was frozen in space, its tip buried in the wood siding.
Her mind shut down. Hunter was saying something, but she couldn’t make sense of the words. Somewhere deep in her subconscious, she knew she needed to move. But she was rooted to the spot.
Hunter reached around her to open the door, then pushed her inside. He stumbled in after her and closed and locked the door.
“Meagan. Don’t lose it on me, baby.” He grasped her shoulder with his free hand and gave her a little shake. He was still using the other to staunch the flow of blood.
“Edmund.” It was the only word that would form.
Hunter released her to reach for his cell phone. “Edmund? You think Edmund did this?”
She nodded. Her brain was slowly kicking back into gear. “Edmund’s biggest hobby is archery.”
Sirens screamed in the distance, pulling her the rest of the way back. Hunter was trying to hold the phone in his free hand and dial with his thumb, but his fingers didn’t seem to be working right. Her gaze shifted to his shoulder. Blood had soaked through the sleeve and traced multiple paths down his arm. And she had stood there like an imbecile.
She took the phone from him. Maybe the sirens were for them, but maybe they weren’t. “Let me.”
After placing the 911 call, she led him to the kitchen and eased him into a chair. The color had leached from his face, and beads of sweat dotted his brow.
“How bad do you think it is?”
He shifted his position and grimaced. “Not as bad as it could have been. But judging from the amount of blood, I’m afraid it tore through a good bit of muscle.”
The sirens drew closer. The detective watching the house had apparently called for backup. The fire guys should be right on their tail.
“You stay seated.”
She left Hunter to jog to the door. Two law enforcement vehicles came to a stop at the curb, one Cedar Key Police, the other Levy County Sheriff. Another sheriff vehicle was stopped down the street. Maybe Edmund was inside. Not likely. He was too cunning to get caught.
The Cedar Key Fire rescue truck stopped behind the other vehicles, and Wade and Joe jumped out. She waved them inside. “Hunter was hit. He’s in the kitchen.”
Two law enforcement officers met her on the porch—Gary and Deputy Baker, according to his nameplate. Baker proceeded to examine the arrow, and Gary followed her inside, where she offered him a seat on the couch. She took the recliner. The activity was helping her keep the panic at bay. She would give her statement while Wade and Joe temporarily patched up Hunter and got him ready to transport. She could fall apart later, once everyone was gone and Hunter was on his way to the hospital.
Gary pulled a small notebook from his pocket. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. Hunter was leaving, and I had turned to go inside. So I didn’t see anything.”
Gary asked several more questions that she couldn’t answer. If she had had the presence of mind to look across the street when it happened, she might have seen someone run away. Maybe Hunter had.
Static sounded from Gary’s radio, followed by a male voice. Her heart fell. The suspect was still at large. But they had found the weapon, a Parker crossbow. The suspect had dropped it in the bushes two doors down.
As Wade and Joe carried Hunter out on a stretcher, Meagan’s heart twisted. He was on his way to the hospital because of her. He could have been killed.
Or she could have been with Darci when Edmund attacked. And Darci could have been killed, leaving her precious little boy without a mother or father.
Meagan had promised Hunter that she wouldn’t run, no matter what happened. That was a promise she was going to have to break. Staying would endanger the lives of everyone she cared about.
So tomorrow morning, she would go see Darci. After all Darci had done for her, Meagan couldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Then she would cash last week’s paycheck and put it with the eight hundred dollars she had saved from selling her paintings. Finally, she would take a cab to the Greyhound station in Chiefland, thirty minutes away. From there, she would decide where to go. As far from Cedar Key as she could afford.
Maybe somewhere large this time, a big city where she could get lost in the throngs of people. Three months ago, Cedar Key had seemed like the perfect choice. She had wanted somewhere far from California, preferably warm and small enough to get around without a car. Though she had never been to Cedar Key before, a childhood friend used to vacation there, and listening to her stories, the place had seemed magical. Of course, at twelve years old, everything had seemed magical. By twenty-four, the knocks of life had pretty well destroyed the magic of childhood.
Now she wasn’t going for magical. Or even warm. As far as getting around without a car, large cities had mass transit.
She would be starting over in a big metropolis with less than half the cash she’d had when she came to Cedar Key. The thought made her blood run cold. But there was one thought that scared her more.
Edmund had found her.
Tonight she would be safe. All night long, cops would be watching her house. Then tomorrow, she would run.
As she made her plans, something kept niggling at the back of her mind, the sense that something was off. She walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She wasn’t hungry, but anything she didn’t eat tonight would go to waste. The unopened things she would give to Darci.
Meagan popped a bowl of leftover spaghetti into the microwave, then stood watching it turn. Suddenly it hit her. Her mind had immediately gone to Edmund because of his love of archery. There was only one problem.
Edmund wouldn’t have missed.
But maybe he hadn’t been aiming for her. Maybe his target had been Hunter. Especially if he thought there was anything between the two of them.
She dismissed that thought also. If Edmund had wanted to hit Hunter, the shot wouldn’t have been to his shoulder.
It would have been straight through his heart.