Arresting Developments. Lena Diaz
back to what had happened. Electrical tape. He’d found it in the engine compartment. Maybe it was a good thing that no one had shown up looking for him in Mystic Glades. Without knowing who’d tampered with his plane, he wasn’t sure whom he could trust.
Images of the crash and its aftermath filtered through his mind: cutting his leg, waking to find himself in a freezing cold spring, a beautiful young woman helping him out of a canoe and onto the bank.
“Don’t tell them about me, Dex. Please. Don’t tell.”
He scrubbed the stubble on his face and searched the corners of the room again, part of him hoping she’d be there even though he knew she wouldn’t be.
Freddie’s expression turned introspective as she studied him. “You’re looking for the woman who helped you, aren’t you? The one you call Canoe Girl?”
Canoe Girl. He squeezed his eyes shut. He remembered it all now. She’d put some kind of foul-smelling mud on his leg—to draw out the poison, she’d told him. And when he’d alternated between the fever and bone-rattling chills, she’d built a fire and sat with him all night, leaving only to bring him water and some kind of surprisingly delicious stew.
Every hour, without fail, she’d changed the dressing on his leg. And when he’d needed a moment of privacy and, to his shame, was unable to get up on his own, she’d helped him stand and limp to a clump of bushes. When he was done, she’d escorted him to their little campfire.
She’d entertained him with stories about the Everglades and made him laugh when she spoke about her childhood. He’d told her about flying and about later building his empire, only to become bored and start the PI firm with Jake Young for fun.
When the sun came up he’d awakened to find her curled against him beside the dying campfire. In awe of the beautiful creature, he’d tightened his arms, only to find her blinking at him in surprise and slipping out of his grasp. Far too soon, she’d deemed him strong enough to leave and had helped him limp to her canoe.
After taking him to the woods at the edge of town, she’d helped him sit on a fallen log and crouched down in front of him.
“We’re just a few feet from the main road,” she whispered. She pulled a whistle out of her pocket. “When I blow this, someone will come help you.” She slid her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “Don’t tell them about me, Dex. Please. Don’t tell. Make up some kind of story to explain how you got here, but never tell anyone that you saw me. It’s important.”
The fear in her voice had him clutching both of her shoulders and pulling her back so he could look her in the eyes. “What’s going on? Who are you afraid of?”
“It’s...complicated. Please. Just promise me.”
“Okay. Yes, I promise. But tell me why you’re afraid. I’m sure that I can help—”
She pressed her fingers against his lips to stop him. “No one can help me.” Her mouth quirked up in a rare smile. “Not even a sexy navy pilot turned billionaire financier private investigator.” She stood and backed away, then put the whistle to her lips.
The shrill sound shattered the morning, sending birds shrieking and rising from the trees around them.
“Remember your promise.” She turned and disappeared into the woods.
Dex shook his head to clear his thoughts. Freddie sat across from him, still waiting for his answer. A feeling of impending doom settled over him. If he’d kept his promise, then how did this woman know about Canoe Girl?
“My memory is still a bit...foggy,” he said evasively. “How long have I been here?”
“Three days. Doc said you wouldn’t have made it if Amber hadn’t helped you with that concoction she put on your leg. But still, it was touch and go.”
“Amber?”
“Amber Callahan. My niece, the one you called Canoe Girl when you were delirious. Pretending you don’t know who I’m talking about isn’t going to change the fact that you talked quite a bit about her.”
He fisted his hands in the sheets, guilt and shame settling on top of him like a heavy weight. Canoe Girl—Amber—had saved his life. And, in return, all she’d asked was that he not tell anyone about her. He’d betrayed her, whether he’d meant to or not.
“They’re searching for her. Now that we know she’s nearby, Holder and the others won’t stop until they find her trail and bring her back.”
His stomach twisted into a hard knot. “She doesn’t want to be found.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
He frowned. For an aunt, she didn’t seem all that worried about her niece’s welfare. “Then why is this Holder person searching for her? It’s her right to be left alone if that’s what she wants. If he thinks she needs rescuing, believe me, she’s quite capable of taking care of herself. She’s pretty amazing in that department.”
She gave him a peculiar look, as if she thought he’d lost his mind. “Mr. Lassiter, Deputy Holder isn’t leading a rescue party. He’s leading a posse. Amber is a murderer.”
Amber ducked down behind a trash can against the back of Callahan’s Watering Hole and waited for the newest group of men to get out of their cars and go inside. The foot traffic in and out of the bar all morning had been incredible, not to mention several suits in a limo a few minutes ago. Half the town and strangers she’d never seen before must have been inside at one time or another. And she didn’t have to guess why. They were looking for her, had been for three days now, carrying rifles and shotguns as if they were afraid she’d attack them. The resentment that shot through her was like a physical pain, making her double over. These people had been her friends, her family. At one time they’d have done anything for her. Now they just wanted to put her away.
She could have been safe and sound at home deep in the Glades by now, but she couldn’t stop worrying about Dex. She’d watched from a perch in a tree overhead to insure that her plan had worked—that someone heard her whistle and came to help him. And since the first person on the scene was someone she’d never met, she couldn’t just assume he had good intentions as far as Dex was concerned. He could have been a thief or some such. So she’d scampered down the tree and followed him to make sure Dex didn’t need her. Then she’d safely made it to her canoe and headed out. But she wasn’t comfortable with the things that she’d heard when she spied on the crash site and listened to the men gathering up the plane. So she’d gone back to check on him and had made a habit of checking on him every day. Once he was well and awake and able to fend for himself, she’d quit her vigil. But not before then.
The men she’d been waiting to pass finally went inside, letting the screen door slam shut behind them. Amber waited another couple of minutes, peeking out to see if anyone else was approaching and listening for sounds from inside the bar to tell her if anyone was about to leave. Then she hurried around the trash can and raced up the rickety wooden staircase attached to the back of the building that was supposed to be a fire escape but was so rarely used that it had fallen into disrepair. The way the boards sagged as she stepped on each one had her holding her breath the first day she’d snuck up them, but now she knew they were more solid than they seemed and she no longer held her breath as she hurried up to the landing.
The door was unlocked, as always. That was one thing she could be thankful for, that the residents of Mystic Glades rarely locked their doors. She pulled the door open a fraction to peer down the long upstairs hallway with doors opening off either side. With all the people downstairs in the business part of the building, she hadn’t expected her aunt to be up here in her private quarters and wasn’t disappointed. The hall was empty.
She headed straight to the guest room where Dex was staying. If he was still suffering from his fever