“For what?”
“Everything. For keeping me safe and calm. For watching out for my sister.”
He crawled to a stop at the red light before speaking. “My job is to protect people.” The gravelly tone in his voice made her think there was more he wanted to say, but as usual, he didn’t.
Marissa folded her hands in her lap and turned her face to the widow at her side. She’d almost forgotten the big picture. This wasn’t about her. Blake’s attentiveness and the things he was doing for her weren’t personal. They were in his job description.
* * *
THE LANE HOME was bigger than Blake had expected, a stately affair with white columns and a long blacktop driveway. The expansive property was beautiful, but impossible to protect with his limited manpower. There was at least a quarter mile between neighbors.
He stopped at the end of the tree-lined drive, unsure where to park. “You grew up here?” A new Jeep with two bright orange kayaks on top sat outside an oversized detached garage. “Is that Kara’s car?”
“No. That’s my mom’s.”
A moment later, Marissa’s door closed behind her. She was halfway up the walk before he shifted into Park.
Marissa’s arms stretched wide as an older version of herself launched off the porch and wrapped her in a rocking hug.
He ejected his key from the ignition and stretched onto his feet outside the cab.
The six-man sheriff’s department in Shadow Point was already in over its head, and his team was working at capacity. There was no way he could properly protect a property this size. He moved slowly up the walk, thinking of how to keep the Lanes safe. Maybe his dad could invite himself over for a while. One trained man inside with the family was a smarter move than five wandering the property anyway.
He turned his phone in his palm and sent his father a text.
“Mom, this is Blake Garrett,” Marissa said, drawing his attention back to the women on the walk. “He’s the federal agent heading up the case.”
The apparent note of pride in her voice stirred something loose in his chest. “Hello.” He struggled to ignore the emotion and concentrate on making a good impression. After all, he was there to deliver the heinous details of a madman’s actions, and ask this woman to trust him with her daughter’s life. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lane.” He shook the woman’s hand. “Kara’s not here yet?”
Marissa’s mom dragged her gaze back to Marissa’s beat-up face. Her expression teetered between horror and confusion. “Not yet. She’s on her way. Why?”
Blake did the numbers mentally. If Kara had been anywhere in town, and spoken to her mom before Marissa had, then Kara should’ve beaten them there. Even if she’d stopped somewhere along the way, she should have arrived by now. “When was the last time you spoke with her?”
Mrs. Lane shook her head. “She just texts. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.”
He forced a tight smile, hoping to break the unbearable tension and get down to business. Kara was late and that was bad. “We’re having trouble reaching her by phone.”
“I’ll send her a text. I’m sure she’s gotten distracted by a rare bird or pack of Boy Scouts, or anything really. Kara’s like that.” Mrs. Lane took her time looking Blake over. Her worn blue jeans and white thermal shirt looked nearly as casual as her bare feet and sagging ponytail. Marissa had clearly been cut from this cloth. “You know, I’ve lived in Shadow Point all my life, even raised two daughters here, but I believe you’re the first Garrett to show up on my doorstep.”
He rested his hands on his hips, unreasonably pleased to know none of his brothers had been here before him. “Is that so?”
“I’ve heard a lot of interesting things about your family.”
Blake didn’t love the way she’d said interesting. “Nothing too bad, I hope.”
“Depends who’s telling the stories.”
Marissa blushed. “Mom.”
“Ah.” Blake had heard it all before. The Garretts were testosterone-driven cavemen, womanizers, married to the law and addicted to the chase. The last accusation wasn’t limited to bad guys. “We’re not so bad.”
The front door opened with a snap, and a man Blake’s father’s age stepped onto the porch. His no-nonsense stance and heavy frown screamed military. No wonder Marissa had been able to fight Nash off. This man seemed the sort to require combat training before starting public kindergarten. “Well, don’t just stand around in the open with a target on your backs,” he demanded.
Marissa jogged up the wide front steps and wrapped her arms around his middle. “Hi, Daddy.” She kissed his cheek with a relieved smile. His face went soft for a fleeting moment before turning sternly back to Blake.
“That lunatic’s face is on every news station.”
Marissa released him, and he gave her a closer look. “Good heavens.” He skimmed a parental palm over her cheek, gently pushing the blond hair off her shoulder, revealing the evidence of Nash’s fingers on her throat. “What the hell happened to you?”
“I told you yesterday. I was attacked. I fought him off,” she said, flinging hair back over the marks on her neck. “Ran to the road and got a ride to the police station.”
Her dad looked at her mom. “She got into a stranger’s car after being attacked.”
Getting into cars with strangers wasn’t a move Blake personally recommended, but she was fleeing a crime scene. She needed help. “She’s a fighter,” Blake interjected with a ripple of misplaced pride.
“I know that,” her father snapped. “Where were you while this was happening to my daughter?” He raised his hand to the bruising on her face.
“Louisville. I came as soon as I got the call from Sheriff Garrett. Thanks to Marissa, we were able to positively identify the man who did this. We put his name
