Stormy Haven. Elizabeth Goddard
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had contacted her not long ago—to catch up, he’d said. See how she was doing. Then he’d casually mentioned her name had come up in intel chatter. He’d been giving her a heads-up.
It had been three years since she left. Why would anyone care to talk about her, much less find her, then follow her here? She was no threat to any criminal operations these days. There was no reason to attack her and bring an investigation down on themselves.
A violent gust caused her to misstep, but she righted herself and second-guessed her decision to run outside no matter the weather. A wave could wash up and sweep her away, rip her off the beach and take her out into the depths. Or it could wash over her, carrying driftwood that could knock her unconscious.
Either scenario would result in her death.
She had to get back to the safety of the lodge, but another part of her wanted to face off with man on the ridge pacing her.
Except she hadn’t brought Max. So better to head straight home, where she could arm herself.
She was almost there.
Just beyond the rocky outcropping ahead of her, rustic steps led up to her lodge on the ridge.
Dark, angry clouds bled into an equally dark ocean, blurring the line where sky met sea. The breakers rolled in, reached higher and crashed harder. Jonna stayed just out of reach, her breaths coming faster as she ran on the wet sand, her running shoes leaving footprints that quickly melted away.
Salty ocean spray lashed at her, taunting her. The ocean swelled. Her heart hammered as she ran. If she could make it back to the lodge and grab her gun, then she could find the guy and get some answers.
Fear and determination fueled her steps.
Dread surged as a wave towered up and arched over—a sea monster opening its mouth wide, baring ugly sharp teeth ready to chomp down and consume her whole. Jonna barely escaped.
When she glanced over her shoulder at the ridge, the guy was gone. She was alone in the storm after all.
He hadn’t followed.
Had her instincts been wrong? Was she that rusty?
Relief surged as she neared the lodge. She waited until the crashing waves subsided so she could make her way around the rocks.
A gust of wind forced cold into her marrow, despite her rain-resistant cold-weather jogging garb. Running today had been the absolute worst idea.
Before another wave crashed forward and the ocean surged, blocking her path, Jonna had to get past those rocks.
The hooded man stepped around them and aimed a gun at her.
* * *
Ian Brady was too late.
He lunged at the man with the gun pointed at Jonna, ramming into him to at least throw off his aim. Gunfire resounded in his ears. The weapon went off before he could stop it.
Cold, brutal waves washed over them as he fought the man and disarmed him. Thankfully, the receding waves whisked the gun away. A fist filled his vision. Pain radiated across his face. Salt water washed into his nose and burned.
Ian drew from his experience and training to ignore the pain. He shoved the attacker down in the wet sand and pinned his arms behind his back, then lugged him to his feet. He had the man securely contained in his grip. Now to haul him off to the sheriff.
Except Ian was fighting another assailant now. The Pacific gripped them both. Ian floundered as the current ripped the man from his grasp. Tossed him. Icy cold water pulled Ian under. He held his breath, trying to gain his footing again. He met the sand on his knees, broken shells cutting into his flesh as he gasped and choked water. Hands gripped him, and he wrestled someone to the ground.
Too late he recognized the feminine form beneath him. “Jonna!” The woman who ran the lodge where he stayed.
And the woman Ian had been sent to secretly protect.
“We have to get out of here—it’s too dangerous,” she yelled over the cacophonous storm.
Now she was trying to protect him?
He pulled her to her feet. Together they ran away from the angry ocean to the stairway that climbed the cliffside and carefully maneuvered the slippery steps to the landing. They stopped beneath the shelter of her lodge’s terrace. Driving winds and lashing rain accosted them even under the covered porch. At least they weren’t still on the beach. Below, the ocean boiled and waves collided with rocks and blasted the shoreline.
In the distance, Jonna’s would-be killer crawled onto the beach. At first he floundered when another wave tried to take him, then he found his footing and fled. The guy was too fortunate. He was also too far up the beach for Ian to give chase, but he couldn’t just let the man get away so easily. On the landing of the steps, Ian watched the shooter head for another set of stairs up the cliff to make his escape from the raging waves. Ian started to run after him, but Jonna grabbed his arm.
Surprised at the strength in her grip, he turned to face her.
“Come on.” Turmoil lingered behind her brown eyes as her gaze pled with him. “Let me get you inside.”
Jonna acted like the protector here—her law-enforcement background coming through.
“No. He tried to shoot you. I want to catch him and find out who he is. Maybe I can get to him if I take my car.”
Her lips hardened in a flat line as she lifted her chin. “We’ll take mine.”
She guided him around the lodge to a single-car parking garage. They entered to find her silver GMC Terrain and climbed into the unlocked vehicle. She quickly fished the keys from the visor.
The wind rattled the structure. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. “You could stay here while I search for him.” Ian had only meant to protect her, but he had realized his mistake too late. Still... “The guy tried to kill you, Jonna. Not me. It’s safer if you stay here.” Plus, she’d just finished a six-mile jog and her energy could very well be spent, but he knew to say no more.
Starting the ignition, she sent him a tempered glare. Wouldn’t do to glare at a guest, but Ian had insulted her.
Jonna backed from the garage, then took off down the street. She probably wanted to speed, but rain plastered the windshield, rendering the wipers useless.
“Careful now. I don’t know how you can see anything.”
“I’m being careful. I know my way around. You look for the guy while I drive.” The hint of a bite edged her tone.
Clearly, Jonna didn’t like being coddled. Ian focused on searching for the man. Had he gotten into a vehicle and left the area already? Had someone been waiting for him in a getaway car? If the storm would ease up, maybe he could actually see something, but he had a feeling their efforts were futile. His face throbbed from the punch, and his body ached from the damp cold that soaked through him as he sat dripping in her vehicle.
As if finally realizing it was cold, Jonna flipped on the heat. Chilled air flayed him. It would take a few minutes for it to warm up. Ian almost regretted her move.
“We weren’t that far behind him. I hope he didn’t get away.” He scanned the cars parked in the street and the few driving the road despite the sheets of rain. “Why did the guy try to shoot you?”
He tossed the words out to get her talking. Ian had been sent to protect her from a possible attack, but he wasn’t certain she knew she was being targeted. And even if she did, she wouldn’t expect him to know about it. She didn’t know why he was here, which made his task more difficult.
Her long, dark hair plastered to her head, she glanced his way intermittently. Droplets clung to her pale face. Even drenched she was drop-dead gorgeous.
“I don’t know. But he was pacing me up on the ridge while I jogged the beach.”
Guilt