Terror seized her vocal chords. She leaped for Trudy’s door.
Jethro caught her around the waist, lifting and turning rapidly to set her butt on the back of the sofa. “Don’t scream. You’ll scare Trudy.”
Tears filled Gemma’s eyes and she kicked out, the coils of energy inside her so sharp they caused pain.
“It’s okay.” Jethro’s voice remained low and soothing as he reached over to shut the front door, one hand still flattened across her abdomen. “We’re covered at every angle outside.Listen to me.”
She shook her head, trying to jump off the sofa and runto grab Trudy.
He flexed his hand, easily holding her in place. The whimper that escaped her sounded wounded.
Jethro straightened and removed his hand, taking a step back and putting himself against the wall. “Listen. I’m sorry about this, but you’re in danger. A lot of danger, and we’re here to help.” He held both hands up in a move that should have made him appear harmless.
It didn’t.
She couldn’t think. This was too much. She turned to view the killer byher back door.
He smiled and looked like he was going to eat her.
The blood rushed from her headand she swayed.
“Stop smiling, Wolfe. You’re scaring her,”Jethro snapped.
The man stopped smiling. “Sorry. Dana says I have a charming smile, but she does love me, so maybe rose-colored glasses and all that?” He frowned and rubbed snow from his hair. “I don’t want to scare you, lady. It’s hard to believe, I’m sure, but we’re the good guys.” One monstrous shoulder lifted and then fell back down. “Usually. Not always. But today—”
“Shut. Up. Wolfe.” Jethro remained eerily still, as if he didn’t want to scare her any more thanhe already had.
Wolfe shut up.
Gemma’s shoulders trembled so hardher chest hurt.
Jethro lowered his chin, catching her gaze. “Look at me.”
She did so, gulping down pure terror.
“There you go,” he crooned. “Remember my past? Where Iused to work?”
She nodded.
“Brilliant. It turns out the trouble has found me and now found you, too. Did you meet a man called Fletcher recently?” Jethro asked, leaning back against the wall as if they had plenty of time for a discussion.
She frowned, her brain finally focusing on something. “Fletcher?” She shook her head. “Yeah. I met him the other day at a coffee shop a couple of hours away from here. He works for some lumber companies. Why?”
Jethro grimaced. “He’s my brother, he’s a killer, and hefollowed you.”
Her breath heated her already aching throat as she flashed back to the man’s dimple. The same one Jethro had. “He seemed so nice.”
“Yeah. That’s a gift of his.” Jethro remained in her sight and Wolfe didn’t move from his spot by the door. “He also apparently gave you something the other day? Some sort of postcard.”
“No. That’s not right.” The image of the old man with the postcard bloomed bright in her mind’s eye. “An elderly man with a cane gave me the card.” She stilled. “How do you know about that? About either time?”
“Fletcher told me,” Jethro said. “He was the old man in disguise. Now you need to listento me. Okay?”
Slowly, she nodded. This was way out ofher experience.
“Good,” he said. “Pack everything you and Trudy will need for a month—we have to go.” His gaze took in her curly hair. “Don’t forget your wigs.” The tone suggested that was a topic they’d be discussing soon.
“Oh,” Wolfe said, nodding. “Guess that’s how shewas a blonde.”
