Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Neither Griffen nor Hawk deigned to reply. That’s because they didn’t want to admit it had been a good plan. I’d barely been in any danger and I’d distracted the shooter. They should be thanking me.
Instead, Griffen growled, “Go check on Savannah, see if she and Nicky are okay. Then stay with them in their room until one of us lets you out.”
I thought about arguing, but at the strained expressions on his and Hawk’s faces, I decided to do what I was told. Grabbing the toast and can of ginger beer off the counter, I made my way down the narrow hall in the back corner of the kitchen and knocked on Savannah’s door.
“It’s Hope. Griffen and Hawk have everything under control, but they want us to stay here while they wait for West.”
Savannah opened her door and pulled me in. “You didn’t go upstairs, did you?”
I waved her off. It was over and everyone was all right. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, my arm was killing me and I really needed that ginger beer. Popping the top, and deeply grateful it was still cold, I took a long gulp, my eyes watering at the fiery ginger. It hurt to swallow, but nothing settled my stomach like it.
“Are you two okay?” In a lower voice, looking over Savannah’s shoulder, I asked, “Nicky good?”
“He’s watching cartoons on my tablet and thrilled I’m not rushing him out the door to pre-school. What happened?”
I filled Savannah in and we waited, quickly growing restless as the door to the sitting room remained closed. We could hear male voices, muffled through the solid wood, shouts from a woman—Miss Stiles I guessed—but as hard as we tried, we couldn’t make out any words.
Trying to distract myself, I looked around. “I’m going to talk to Griffen about getting a contractor out here. We need to get your cottage put back together so you have more room than this.”
“It’s fine,” Savannah started to say.
“It’s not. And I really think you should repaint when you turn it into an office. All this institutional white is depressing.”
Savannah shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll get to it. For now, I’m worried about finding a new cook. I have a feeling Miss Stiles is out of here.”
Savannah wasn’t wrong. By the time Griffen opened the door and set us free, the kitchen was empty of everyone, including Miss Stiles.
“West took the guy to the station to book him. We need to follow when we can. Hawk is checking the perimeter and getting security tapes to send to West. Miss Stiles—” He shook his head at Savannah. “Sorry. She quit. Wouldn’t even consider staying until we replaced her.”
Savannah sighed. “I’ll call Mom, see if she can help with breakfast and take Nicky to pre-school. Then I’ll set up some more interviews. In the meantime—”
“I’ll talk to Finn,” Griffen said. “He can dust off all that fancy training for a few days to feed us, or he can take a hike.”
“Good luck with that,” Savannah murmured.
Griffen didn’t speak to me, not really, until we were on our way to give our statements to West.
“Are you going to be mad at me all day?” I asked, trying to tease him out of his mood. It didn’t work.
He slanted me a dark look. “Yes. I’m going to be pissed at you forever. You could have been shot.”
“I wasn’t in danger for more than a second. You had him covered and I was hiding behind a stone wall.”
“Hope—”
“Nope, save it. We both know I wasn’t really in any danger, and I wasn’t leaving you.”
“Stubborn,” he muttered.
“Get used to it,” I said.
“I’m seriously re-thinking our plan to stay at Heartstone.”
“Get used to that, too. We’re staying.”
Griffen sighed. “Unless West gives us a good reason not to, we’re staying,” he agreed.
West didn’t give us a reason to leave Sawyers Bend. “He’s not going anywhere,” he said of our intruder. “John Fredricks. Former Marine. Went for Marine Scout Sniper and didn’t make it, but it wasn’t because of his shooting skills. He admitted to trying to run you down in his truck, and to taking the shot at you in your office and at your tire. He also claims he was working for someone else.”
“Who?” Griffen demanded.
West shook his head. “Says he doesn’t know. He was paid in cash, anonymous drops. Calls came to his cell. I have the number, but I’m betting it’s a burner or clone. Voice was disguised. He doesn’t know if it was a man or woman. Just that they knew he had a grudge and had sniper level shooting skills.”
“So, what now?” I asked.
West gave me a grim smile. “Go home. Keep security high, but live your lives. This isn’t over. Whoever hired Fredricks will find someone else eventually, but for now, you have a little breathing room. Enjoy it while it lasts.”