Blake waited, hip cocked, gaze delving into hers, as if he could pull the thoughts from her head.
“Until this is over,” she clarified, taking interest in a nearby tree and ignoring the warmth in her belly. She shored herself up and met his gaze once more. “The way I see it, this entire situation is horrible. There’s no silver lining. No good angle. It’s awful, and it’s ugly, but I don’t see how he can get to me again as long as I’m with you. So, I’m staying.”
* * *
MARISSA’S POSTURE WAS RIGID, something she did to appear bigger, Blake assumed. Though, he hadn’t thought of her as small since she’d first opened her mouth to tell him how he was going to handle her case. Being pocket-size required a person to apply themselves more assertively. He’d never thought much of that fact before meeting her. He’d passed six foot by junior year in high school. Being overlooked or underestimated had never been his problem.
Until Blake had met Nash, he hadn’t had a lot of problems. Now, he had two major ones. Catching the sonofagun who’d eluded him for five years, and protecting the woman in front of him who was doing her best not to look nearly as frightened as she truly was. The second task would be a lot easier if she hadn’t just announced her intent to stay under his thumb. Not only would her constant presence make it impossible for him to go hunting for his nemesis, it also made Blake vulnerable. Marissa was a distraction. She’d been slowly making mud of his clarity with those big blue eyes and endless bravado, and every minute he wasted worrying about her was time Nash gained on him.
Worse still, and ridiculous as it was, Blake wanted her with him. He’d promised to keep her safe, and he wasn’t the kind of man who broke his word. “Fine.” He set his hand against the small of her back once more, a frustrating habit he’d developed and couldn’t seem to shake. Normally, he maintained a strict no-touching policy for those in his charge, but this was different. The added connection was a comfort to her. At least that was what he’d told himself when she didn’t swat him away the first time he made the move. Not that he’d planned it. Reaching for her had come naturally, another thing that had surprised him. “You can stick with either of my brothers while I work. They’ll keep you safe, and you can trust them.”
“I know, and I do.”
They moved toward the lake in unison, becoming the center of attention as those already on scene noticed their arrival. A man in a wet suit leaned his backside against a tree, hands on knees, eyes closed. Blake’s gut fisted. He knew that deep breathing technique. If the diver hadn’t been sick yet, he was about to be.
“Blake.” A familiar and commanding voice caught Blake’s attention and turned him around. His father tromped through the tall grasses at the lake’s edge wearing fatigues and waders.
Blake smiled, and led Marissa toward the grasses. He hadn’t seen his dad in nearly a year, but it was eerily like looking in a mirror. One that told the future anyway.
“Here’s another one you can trust,” Blake told Marissa. “This is my dad, Martin Garrett. Dad, this is Marissa Lane.”
Marissa raised her small hand to him. “Sheriff Garrett. It’s nice to meet you.”
His dad stepped free of the water and accepted her offer with a sad smile. “I’m sorry to hear about what happened to you yesterday.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re a brave woman.”
She pursed her lips and looked away.
Blake’s dad pinned him with a pointed look. “Did they tell you what they found down there?”
“Not yet, but I don’t suppose they had to.” The somber feel in the air, coupled with the coroner’s vans, could mean little else.
“Probably not.” His dad sighed the words. Twenty years as the local sheriff had worn him down. He’d spearheaded West’s landslide campaign. It was time, he’d said, to get to know his family again. Let another Garrett take the reins for a while.
“Look,” Marissa whispered.
Bubbles floated and burst on the lake’s smooth surface, sending ripples through the reflections of Marissa, Blake and his father. A heartbeat later, two divers’ heads broke free. Together, they towed a body to shore.
His father groaned.
Marissa stepped behind Blake. Her fingers pressed against his side, either for protection or balance, he couldn’t be sure. When he’d moved between her and the reporter, she’d rejected the shielding. He didn’t blame her now. No one should see what he was watching. It shouldn’t be happening.
Her ragged breaths blew against his shirt. She was probably thinking the same thing he was. That body could have been her.
“Dad?” Blake said, turning for a look at his lifelong hero.
“Yep.” The town’s former sheriff and eternal protector slid an arm around Marissa’s shoulders. “Why don’t we give these folks some room to work.”
Blake waited as his father led Marissa several yards away, then headed for the divers as they arranged the exhumed body carefully on a sheet set out by the county coroner. Drops of water fell from their suits onto her pale, swollen face and tattered wedding gown.
Blake pulled his eyes away with a curse. “Was she alone?”
“No, sir.” One diver answered as the other strode away on unsteady legs. “Five more,” he added in the detached monotone of a man in shock.
“Five?” Blake cast his gaze over the bubbling water. That couldn’t be right. “Nash had four victims in total. You’re saying there were six bodies down there?”
A pair of men in blue windbreakers edged Blake and the diver away from the woman. “Excuse us.” They stretched another sheet beside the first.
And another beside that.
With six sheets spread along
