Federal Agent Under Fire. Julie Lindsey Anne
place. I could go get them. I’d hoped to take photos for a magazine interested in doing a spread on lake towns. The maps could save the divers time.”
Blake rested his forearms across his thighs, dangling both hands between his knees. “We have the town blueprint. Right now, the divers are fighting daylight to get here, and they haven’t got much left.” He stretched onto his feet and extended a hand to hoist her up. “How do you feel about taking a walk while we wait?”
She accepted his hand. “Where are we going?”
“You said you saw a man at the lookout. We should get up there while the park’s closed to visitors.” He motioned for her to lead the way.
Marissa stopped at the base of Sunrise Trail. She cocked a hip and stared up the dirt path. Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. “I didn’t get a good look at the guy up there, but he smelled like cigarette smoke.” She braced a hand to her forehead like a visor and squinted against the sun. “The man who attacked me also smelled like smoke, but I suppose that’s hardly enough to conclude it was the same man.”
“Do you think it was the same man?”
She cast her gaze to the ground. “I do.”
Blake motioned her forward. “That’s good enough for me.”
She took a deep breath and began her second five-mile uphill hike of the day. At least this time she wasn’t running. “I was a little spooked to see someone at the lookout before dawn. Confused, too. My car was the only one in the lot.”
Blake turned an amused expression on her. “You hiked five miles before dawn.” He shook his head in apparent awe. “You’re making me regret the coffee and cruller breakfast I had on my way here from Louisville.”
Marissa smiled. “Well, if it helps, I didn’t hike. I ran.”
He laughed. “Oh, yeah. That makes me feel much better. Thank you.”
She fell into a comfortable stride and inhaled deeply, finding as much inner peace as possible on this horrific day. “I run every morning, but three days a week I do it here. I like the view, and I normally enjoy the solitude.” She bit her lip against the tirade that had been swirling in her mind for the past few hours. “I knew something was wrong. I knew it, and I didn’t leave.”
Blake stopped moving and stared at her. “You couldn’t have known. Even if you had, you weren’t at fault here. Don’t let that worm get into your head. From what I can tell, you did everything right, and if this man is who I think he is, you’re the first to get away. You should be proud of yourself.”
“Really? Because it was pride that kept me here when my instincts told me to go home. It was pride that took me to the lake for my reward.”
“Reward?”
She groaned. “It’s stupid, but I beat my best time getting to the lookout, and I’d planned to reward myself by watching the sunrise. I was mad that I’d let his presence keep me from enjoying the view.” She dropped her head back and laughed. “So instead of getting in my car, I made a side trip to the lake. I was that close to leaving unharmed.”
Blake’s face darkened. “This wasn’t your fault. I don’t care if he shook your hand and said, ‘I’m going to attack you unless you go home.’ He’s still the criminal. He’s the one in the wrong. Not you.”
Marissa stepped over a fallen branch. “Thanks, but it’s hard not to think about what I could’ve done differently.”
Patchy sunlight filtered through the lush forest canopy. A soft breeze kicked up, lifting scents of shampoo and sweat from Blake’s body.
Marissa shook her thoughts back to the situation at hand. “Can you tell me more about Nash? That’s his name, right?” Her hand moved instinctually to her throat. She blinked through the fresh sting of tears. “I’ve heard you and your brothers use it, but no one’s filled me in on the specifics.”
“I linked Nash to the disappearances of four women about five years ago. The missing women were never recovered, but I know he took them. I saw it in his eyes when I confronted him.” His square jawline popped and clenched. Whatever he wasn’t sharing was painful and Marissa’s heart hurt for him, too.
“What does he look like?” Marissa asked.
Blake cast her a sidelong glance. “I’ll show you a picture when we get back. I would’ve done that at the station but West said you didn’t see the man who attacked you.”
“I didn’t. I thought a description might jar my memory about the man at the lake last summer.”
Blake glanced over his shoulder. “Nash has brown hair and eyes. He’s six foot. Average weight, but no definition. He wasn’t much to look at. No distinguishing marks, scars or tattoos. Of course, that was a while back. A lot could have happened since then.”
“Was he a smoker?”
“Yes.”
Ice curled through Marissa’s body. She’d been in the grips of a serial killer. The bruises on her face and throat throbbed at the thought. She pressed cool fingers against the aching pains.
“I’m going to find him.” Blake’s voice cracked the last ounce of composure Marissa had.
A hot, fat tear broke over her cheek and slid onto her jaw. Then another.
“Hey.” Blake stopped climbing. “Miss Lane.” He caught her trembling hand in his as she took another step without him. He squeezed gently before releasing her.
She swiped shaky fingertips across both eyelids before daring to look back. “I’m fine. Please call me Marissa.”
“You’re not fine, Marissa, but you’re going to be. I’m going to find this guy. I won’t let him get away again.” He lifted a white handkerchief in her direction.
The sincerity in Blake’s voice warmed her, and the sound of her name on his lips settled her fraying nerves. “I know.” She accepted the handkerchief and pressed it to her eyes, thankful for his comforting presence. “Who carries a handkerchief?”
“Me. All of us.” He fumbled for words, clearly uncomfortable telling her something so personal. “My brothers and I.”
Apparently, even that legendary Garrett confidence wasn’t bulletproof. Marissa smiled behind the soft cotton material, enjoying the aromatic blend of Blake’s soap and cologne caught in the wispy fabric. “I see.” She returned his quizzical glance. “Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“It’s a long hike.”
Blake turned his face to her and smiled. Not another lazy effort like he’d offered her before, but a true smile that reached his eyes and scaled the years away.
She’d found Blake devastatingly handsome as a straight-faced agent, but the smiling man beneath the badge was so much more. His ability to show such charm and compassion on a day as cursed as this was enough to weaken her knees. “I’d love to know, and honestly, I could use the distraction.”
He paused to look her in the eye. “Our granddad gave those to us when we were small. None of us used them until his funeral a few years back, but we all carried them to the service. That was the day I started bringing mine everywhere.” He looked away, into the forest, seemingly lost in the memory.
“You carry a piece of him,” she mused. “That’s sweet.”
He extended his hand. “Give me my hanky.”
She set the cloth in his hand with a smile. “You aren’t what you seem, Federal Agent Garrett.”
“Folks rarely are.”
There