“Philpot said she was older and plain, with big, thick glasses. When I drove to the trailer, I found a pair of women’s glasses with thick lenses under a bush. I’ve been trying to get Traverton to send a team out there to search. So far he’s been dragging his feet. He doesn’t want to waste time and resources on what could be a wild-goose chase. But whatever happened, that woman wouldn’t have left without her glasses.”
Emma felt a chill, as if cold hands had tightened around her throat. “You think he murdered her?”
“Without a body, there’s no way to tell. I took photos of the glasses and left them in place for evidence. Traverton showed the photos to Philpot for identification. But Philpot had a convenient memory block.”
“By now he will have passed the word to Boone,” Emma said. “If Boone knows he’s liable to be charged, he could run—maybe across the border to Canada. At least, then, we’d be rid of him.”
“Don’t count on it. Boone could hide in the bush forever and still be a danger to you. He needs to be put away.” His arm tightened, pulling her closer. “On a more cheerful note, I found evidence that Boone may have finished burning the trailer himself, after you got away from him. So you’re off the hook for that.”
“But not for his burns.”
“Not likely. Boone wouldn’t be stupid enough to burn himself on his own fire. Either way, he blames you for everything that happened. That’s how his mind works. But I’m here now, and I swear, whatever it takes, I’ll stop him from hurting you.”
His arm tightened around her, making her feel precious and protected. Emma closed her eyes and nestled closer to him, feeling his warmth flood her senses with the clean aroma of his body, the sound of his breathing, and the slow, steady beat of his heart. She could stay right here forever, safe from the outside world, she thought. But that world was their world, and there were things that needed to be set right before they could move on together.
She stirred, rubbing her hair against his chin. “When the news of your crash came on TV, I was with David,” she said. “We listened to an interview with a man they said was a mail supervisor. Older, silver hair.”
“That would be Mazursky. Good man.”
“He told the reporter you were one of the best pilots and finest men he’d ever known.”
“That’s the sort of thing you’d say at a man’s funeral.”
“Your opinion, not mine. I’d be inclined to agree with him. But that’s not why I’m telling you. David was listening to that broadcast. I could tell how moved he was. He even shed a few tears.”
John didn’t answer. She felt his throat move against her forehead.
“He didn’t come in today,” Emma said. “His mother said he was sick. But Pearl told me that Marlena and David had a big blowup because he told her he wanted to spend time with you.”
John exhaled slowly. After a beat of silence, he spoke. “Nothing would make me happier than to be with David. But I won’t put his life in turmoil by coming between him and his family. Marlena raised him when I wasn’t there. She’s done a fine job. And Carl’s been a decent dad. As far as I know, he’s treated David like his own. David’s at a point in his life when he needs stability. I won’t take that away by starting a family war.”
“He’ll be eighteen on his next birthday, old enough to make his own decisions.”
“I know. His birthday’s in March. I’ll be open to whatever he chooses, but I can’t choose for him.”
Emma raised her face and kissed the corner of his mouth. She had a lot to learn about love. John was already teaching her. “How did you get to be so wise?” she asked.
“Wisdom is overrated,” he said. “So is closing your eyes when a beautiful woman is undressing in front of you. Be warned, the next time it happens, I just might steal a peek.”
“You might not have to.” She turned in his arms for a long, deep kiss that left her warm and tingling. Nothing beyond that was going to happen tonight. When the time was right, they would both know it. Now was too soon. Their love was too new and still too tender. But she could hold him in her arms while he rested and make sure his sleep was safe. That was enough to fill her heart.
* * *
By crack of dawn the next morning John’s energy had rebounded. Except for a lingering headache, he felt much like his usual self. Leaving Emma to sleep off her wakeful night, he went into the bathroom, eased the bandage off his head, and washed his hair in the shower.
He was nearly dressed when she opened her eyes with a startled look. “You’re leaving? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “But I have a lady’s reputation to protect, a Jeep to pick up at Refuge Cove, and a cabin to check. Get some sleep before work. I’ll be in touch.” Bending over, he kissed her gently, then strapped on his gun in its shoulder holster and, after making sure the door would lock behind him, stepped out into the hall.
The hotel was quiet. The upstairs workmen had Saturday off and weren’t coming in. The night clerk was dozing at the desk. Outside, the sky was clearing. The air was fresh and brisk, with a chill that made him miss the sheepskin jacket he’d sacrificed to the signal fire.
He walked to the little drive-up on the far side of the tunnel, enjoyed a cup of coffee there, and hailed a cab to take him to Refuge Cove. On the way, he clicked through a mental list of things he needed to do. He’d only missed yesterday, but it was as if the world had shifted while he was waiting to be rescued.
His Jeep was waiting in the marina parking lot, just as he’d left it. One worry out of the way. He’d planned to stop by the air marina to get a recommendation for someone with a boat who could help him salvage the Beaver, or better yet, help him repair it on the spot. But the office was closed, so that would have to wait.
He’d tried not to worry about the cabin, but there was always a chance that Boone had stopped by and left him more ugly surprises. At least, with the storm, the bastard shouldn’t have been able to burn the place down. But John wouldn’t breathe easy until he knew that everything was all right.
Damn it, he was sick of the way Boone had taken over his life and Emma’s. He wanted to move forward, to plan a future with the woman he loved. But the threat from Boone had made her a virtual prisoner. With the discovery that Boone might have caused his first bride’s death, the situation had become even more frightening. Boone wasn’t just a con man. He was a psychopath. And now the target of his obsessive rage was Emma.