He scanned the room for prying eyes and found plenty. His brother, West, was among the spectators. Two members of his team turned away when they were caught staring, but West crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels, a distinct look of interest on his brow. Blake didn’t like it. What did it mean? Surely it wasn’t romantic interest in Marissa. He felt his scowl deepen. “Marissa,” he repeated, slightly louder this time. “Hey.” He lifted her hand in his and met West’s gaze once more.
She stirred at his touch. “Hi.” She blinked unwilling eyes. “I fell asleep.” Her small hand turned against his, locking their palms.
A shock of victory blazed through him at her small acceptance. “Time to go back to the hotel. Can you walk or would you like me to carry you?” he teased, feeling much too light for the day they’d had.
“Both?” She squinted up at him with a lazy smile.
He tamped down a broad grin and stole another look around the room before leaning closer. “I wouldn’t mind carrying you, but I think that might get some rumors started.”
Across the room, West headed into his office with a smirk.
The haze of sleep fell from Marissa’s face, and her smile went flat. “Sorry.” She freed her hand from his and used it to straighten her hair and shirt, then to wipe the corners of her mouth and eyes.
Blake returned to his side of the desk, unsure what had happened in the moment between her dreamy hello and near-instant recoil. Had she initially mistaken him for someone else? Had he offended her by being overly playful on what must be the worst day of her life? He made a trip around the room while she got her bearings and gathered her things.
Once his team had their orders, he leaned against the doorjamb of West’s office and waited for his brother to take notice. “We’re headed out.”
West dropped his pen onto the desk and stretched. “Sounds good. If I get anything substantial, I’ll route it in your direction. You need anything else?”
Blake relaxed against the cool metal frame. “Besides Nash Barclay in cuffs or a pine box? Not really.” And preferably neither. Nash didn’t deserve the life sentence he’d get for his crimes. Hell, he didn’t deserve a pine box. What he needed was to be kicked into the lake and assigned the same fate he’d given those poor women.
West interlocked his fingers behind his head, elbows pointed skyward. “We’re going to get that done, brother.”
Marissa appeared in Blake’s periphery, emerging from the restroom and looking somewhat revived. Her hair was split into low pigtails and arranged over her shoulders, probably to mask the marks on her neck. Her cheeks were pale with exhaustion and a swath of loose hair fell over her bruised cheek. “Are we still leaving?” she asked, stopping inches from his side.
“Yeah.” Blake shook the vengeful thoughts from his mind and refocused on the beauty before him. She needed words of hope and comfort, not a list of ways he wanted to see Nash punished. “West and I were just wrapping things up.”
West rocked out of his office chair and moseyed to his filing cabinet. “I was just telling Blake that I’d pass along any information that seems solid. You guys both look like you could use some sleep.” He opened the bottom drawer and tossed a duffel bag at Blake. “I got you something.”
Blake pulled the zipper back. “What is it?”
“I brought you a couple changes of clothes and stopped for some basic bathroom stuff. I thought you could use it.”
Blake had left Louisville the moment West called yesterday morning. He’d torn out of town with one thing on his mind, and it wasn’t a change of clothes or toothpaste. “Thanks, man.” Now, he wouldn’t have to make a stop at the store for those things. He could stay on task.
Marissa fidgeted beside him, eyes fixed on West. “No word on my sister?”
West’s gaze swept to Blake, then back to Marissa. He shifted his stance and seemed to weigh his words. “Nothing yet, but remember it’s only been a few hours, and if not for the picture Blake found, a four-hour absence wouldn’t be cause for concern. We’re on guard because of it, but the truth is that photo wasn’t taken today. Based on background structures and foliage, I’d say it’s at least three months old and shot at a crowded event. The image could’ve been pulled off the internet. It could be nothing more than psychological warfare aimed at you or Blake. We just don’t know.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “Of course.”
Blake curved a protective arm over her shoulders and narrowed his eyes on West.
He shrugged. “What?”
Blake wasn’t the only one in the family who was better off keeping his mouth shut. Psychological warfare? Way to make an already terrifying situation worse. He shook his head at West, and ushered Marissa toward the front door. Everything West had said was true, but Marissa wasn’t a lawman. She hadn’t signed up to live in this world, and she didn’t need to hear all the ways a man like Nash Barclay was likely to taunt her.
He fought an unstoppable yawn. West was right about something else, too. Blake and Marissa both needed some sleep.
It was only a matter of time before Nash struck again.
* * *
THE DRIVE UP the mountain was beautiful. Blake took it slowly enough for Marissa to enjoy the gently swaying trees and familiar bends in the country road. The sky was a glorious mix of apricot and amber, bringing harmony and peace to her cluttered mind. She dragged a
