Oh my God, it was G.I. Joe and a handsome one at that, his dark hair skimmed his broad shoulders, and his blue eyes startled the senses. It was when I spotted the hunting knife gripped in his hand that I realized that handsome or not, a murderer might just be standing in front of me.
2
G.I. Joe didn’t say a word as he quickly sheathed his knife, leaned over, and scooped me up off the ground as though I weighed nothing.
“A friend of yours?” he asked as he held me in his arms and nodded at the dead guy.
I was speechless. I wasn’t sure it was from the shock of finding a dead body or being held in the arms of a hunky G.I. Joe that struck me dumb, though I did have the common sense to shake my head.
He walked over to a nearly flat boulder and set me down on it.
“Stay put,” he ordered and snapped a device off his belt, pressed a button and ordered someone on the other end to call the local police. It was a good device to have out here, since cell phone service could be spotty. I wondered if I had just stumbled onto a clue that suggested the lodge was going to be as Zelda said—a special training facility for an elite force.
He bent down over the body and gave it a once over, though didn’t touch it. Then he walked around it and scooped something up off the ground before returning to stand in front of me.
“This belong to you?” he asked, waving one of my moccasins in front of me.
I nodded and shivered, suddenly feeling chilled.
He shook his head. “What are you doing walking alone in the woods anyway. You’re just a wee bit of a thing. You couldn’t protect yourself if you wanted to.”
That did it. Hunky G.I. Joe or not, he wasn’t going to talk to me that way. I bolted up so fast that my head spun, and I figured I was going down again. Not so. I was up in the big guy’s arms before I knew it.
“I told you to stay put, lass.”
Were my ears playing tricks or did G.I. Joe have a slight Scottish brogue?
I shook my head. “You have done nothing since showing up but dictate to me. Did you ever think of being nice to me since you found me by a dead body? Like maybe asking me if I’m hurt?”
“Are you? Let me have a look,” he said, placing me on the ground and began running his hands over me.
I slapped them away. “Hands off, G.I. Joe.”
He smiled and I had to keep my jaw from dropping. He was just too handsome for his own good. I bet there wasn’t a woman who didn’t melt when he smiled.
I silently berated myself. There was a dead man here, murdered at that, and where were my thoughts? On a brawny military guy who could, in fact, be a murderer.
“I called the police like you asked, Ian. You found a body here in the woods?”
I turned to see another hunky military type guy approaching G.I. Joe, though at least now I knew his name, Ian. The new guy was wearing black, white, and gray camouflage fatigues, his black tee clinging to him like a second skin. He had brown, short hair and dark eyes that oozed sexuality. I was beginning to think that an elite training facility might just be what was moving in next door to me, either that or a bordello that catered to women who had a hankering for hot military men. I should be so lucky.
“Dead guy,” Ian said with a nod at the body.
“Holy shit,” the military guy said and took a look for himself.
“Thad, can you wait up by the road and direct the police here?” Ian asked. “I don’t want to leave the lass on her own. She found the guy.” He gave a nod at me.
“Don’t blame you. Looks like a good wind would blow her away.”
I wanted to lash out at him for thinking me so fragile, but then most of my life people had treated me that way, including my dad and three older brothers. It had been the main reason I had moved away for a while. I needed to prove to myself and everyone else that I could manage on my own, and I had. Not that it changed anything. When I returned home my family, except for my mom, still tried to treat me like they always had.
I ignored both musclemen. Thad stopped to talk with Ian in hushed whispers before he went up to the road to wait for the police and cast a glance at the body. Mr. Stevenson’s eyes were open wide as if staring up at the sky. The thought that someone had been murdered so close to my own home turned my stomach. Was Mr. Stevenson a victim of some crazy loon or was he murdered on purpose? Either way didn’t make me feel any better, and when my father got here, I wouldn’t be surprised if he told me that I had to move back home until this case was solved.