Much like Jo. She was taking the brunt of a storm, or maybe it was a perfect storm, stemming from her mother’s murder and the criminal activity involving her father.
And perfect storms almost always brought devastating results.
He wanted to search on the name Ransom Driscoll, an engineer, and he probably would, even though Allison’s methods were far superior to his internet browser searches.
“Okay, so we know that Pop’s name he used in Hidden Bay was an alias. That my mother’s suspected killer was on that ferry and is now dead. I’m more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. Why would someone be afterme, Cole?”
The only reason Jo would be in danger—that Cole could fathom—based on herfather’sdealings was some sort of revenge.
“So how do we figure this out?” Jo asked. “What next?”
Cole figured that Jo’s head would be spinning after the last couple of days she’d had. Even with the experience he had in special forces, he should be prepared for anything, yet he still felt off-balance. Too much was happening all at once. He intended to find out why.
Her mother was gone.
Her suspected killer too, and yes, he needed to resolve what really happened to her. But the one person who wasstill alive—he hoped—had answers to at least some of their questions.
“I need to remain focused on finding your father.” Her father understood the danger she was in. After all, he’d warned her about the bomb. That was serious business, and yet he got on a plane and left her.
“You mean we.Weneed to find him. Because I’ll be with you when you do. We’re in this together. I hired you ... not only to find out who he really is but to protect me.”
“Your protection goes without saying. Without any official contract.” He chuckled inside—they’d never actually signed a contract. What did he care? He moved to sit closer to her.
Her eyes never left him as he sat close and took her hand. His head would explode with everything he felt and wanted to say ... everything for which he had no words. He had told her he would explain everything, but how? “I’m here, no matter what. Forget the company I work for, it’s not about that. You know that, right?”
She slowly nodded, and longing surged through him. More than anything, he wanted to lean forward and kiss her like he used to, back when he knew she wanted it. But that time wasn’t now. His throat tightened.
“Thank you, Cole. And you should know that I wouldn’t trust anyone else to protect me. I know you’re good for that, but you should also know that I’m willing to take some risks if it means finding the truth and living my life without having to look over my shoulder.”
Her father had hurt her deeply. Cole liked the guy, when he was Raymond Dodge, but he was beyond furious at Ransom Driscoll for doing this to Jo.
She glanced up from her cell phone. “It’s a text from Remi. You’ll never believe who is trying to find me.”
20
The next morning, Jo had a crick in her neck. Her sleep had been awful, if she’d slept at all. Her mind wouldn’t shut down. Now she rode shotgun as Cole drove along the winding two-lane road to meet Naomi Bancroft, Mason Hyde’s sister. Mason, previously suspected of killing someone at an ATM as well as Jo’s mother, was the victim on the ferry. A dead man. His sister Naomi had contacted Remi at Cedar Trails in search of Jo. Apparently, Jo’s hiding place in Hidden Bay was now common knowledge—it was out there.
A few moments after the text from Remi, Naomi had contacted Cole to discuss what had happened to her brother. She still wanted him involved in investigating and wanted to clear Mason’s name but wasn’t sure how she felt about him investigating while protecting Jo. Regardless, she insisted on meeting Cole and Jo for a conversation she didn’t want to have on the phone, claiming she had vital information.
So here we are,onour way to meet the sister of the ferry victim.
And the sister of the man who might have killed Jo’smother. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe Cole had been right. He hadn’t wanted to leave the safe house, but neither could they allow Naomi to meet them at the safe house or at Cedar Trails. She might lead another someone with nefarious intentions to them.
With the windshield wipers working double-time, Cole steered the Yukon north, along the Hood Canal and then finally into the small fishing community. The Hood Canal was the westernmost fjord that was separated by the Kitsap Peninsula from the main body of water of Puget Sound. No Seattle cityscape to view from here, and Jo liked it that way.
The Hood, Line and Sinker bait shop was at the small marina filled with old fishing boats, completely different from the million-dollar yachts moored in the slips across the sound in the Seattle metropolitan area.
Meeting Naomi here had been the woman’s idea. On the gray, rainy day, Cole walked close to Jo, his protective demeanor obvious to anyone as they made their way up the short stoop into the shop. A bell rang when he opened the door, and the unmistakable smell of fish and bait hit her. No one was at the counter with the cash register.
Somehow managing to cover and protect her, even as he scouted the place, Cole gently urged her deeper into the bait-and-tackle shop that stocked groceries too. The floor creaked, and the fishy smell permeated the place. Jo loved it.
The bell at the door rang again, signaling that someone else had entered, and Cole ushered her between the aisles to the exit at the back.
“Hey, Chuck,” a man said. “How’s it going?”
“I hear the blackmouth aren’t biting.” An older, gravelly voice responded. Must be Chuck.
“That’s never good for business.”
