Another furtive glance over her shoulder. I remembered what she'd said when she'd stabbed J.T. Daisy had heard her mumbling, ‘Kill Royal and I'm free,’ as if someone had sent her after Royal. She'd denied it later. But if it was true, if someone had sent her after Royal, maybe that same person had sent her to kill me. Maybe he was waiting in the woods or peering out from one of the Inn windows.
Since my father's death, it had been open season on the Sawyers. Someone was after us. I needed to know who. We all did. I tried one more time to get through to Vanessa.
"Who are you looking for, Vanessa?" I asked gently.
She started, eyes flashing up, wide and panicked. "No one. No one. I just… I need to get out of here, Tenn. I don't have a lot of time."
"Then give me a name and I'll help you." I was mostly lying. There was no way I was going to help this woman evade justice, not even for the name of my father's killer. She'd almost murdered J.T. But if she gave me a name that panned out, I'd help pay her lawyer's fees. Considering her lawyer was Cole Haywood, Ford's defense attorney, I knew exactly how expensive those bills had to be.
"Tenn," she sidled closer again, wheedling. "Surely we can work something out." She angled herself so I caught a healthy flash of cleavage and long leg. I rolled my eyes to the sky.
How desperate did she think I was?
It had been a while for me—I didn't partake of hot tourists like Royal had before Daisy—and my last semi-serious relationship had ended almost a year ago. I wasn't a teenager, swayed by a flash of her tits into forgetting who she was.
"Like I said, I wouldn't fuck you with someone else's dick, Vanessa. And if you come one step closer, I'm going to deck you and then call West."
She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest again, this time in petulance tinged with fear.
"I'm asking you for help, Tenn. We're family. You don't have to be such an asshole about it."
Was she serious? "Vanessa, get real. You broke Griffen's heart when we were kids, then made Ford miserable when he was stupid enough to marry you. That alone would be enough for me. But then you tried to kill Royal, and in the process, almost murdered JT. I have no idea what voodoo Cole worked to get bail granted, much less how you managed to cover it when you claim to be broke. Believe me, If I could pay to get you thrown back in jail, I'd do it in a heartbeat. There's nothing we can work out."
"I thought—"
"I know what you thought. I'm turning over a new leaf. No more damsels in distress for me. Someone else can field the sob stories. I'm out. Either give me that name of Prentice's killer or get the fuck off my property."
Vanessa stared at me, quivering with fury, before turning on her heel and storming down the path. I stayed where I was until she was out of sight, wondering if I'd made a mistake.
Chapter Two
SCARLETT
The beautiful woman stormed past my hiding place in the trees, her shining black hair streaming behind her, her perfect face caught between temper and something that looked a lot like fear. I watched her go, trying to tamp down my curiosity. What was she doing in the gardens of The Inn at Sawyers Bend just after dawn, dressed for a cocktail party?
Not your business, I reminded myself.
I had enough problems of my own without wondering about someone else's. I was here for a reason. Not my reason, but that didn't matter. If it were up to me, I'd be at home right now, just getting up, waiting for that first steaming cup of coffee before I shattered my peace and woke up my boys.
Instead, I was in a small town in North Carolina on a wild goose chase, caught up in a mess I didn't truly understand. I palmed the phone in the back pocket of my jeans and again considered calling Thatcher, demanding he come home. Like that would work. If it was that easy, I wouldn't be in Sawyers Bend in the first place.
I didn't care how all of this worked out, I just wanted Thatcher back. He'd assured me it wasn't that simple. If I wanted this to be over, he needed my help. So, I'd help. And once this was done, I was kicking Thatcher's ass.
A tall figure moved into my line of sight and my gut clenched. My first reaction was sheer female awareness. He was a fine specimen of a man: tall, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jaw, and thick dark hair. Definitely hot, his looks not in the least diminished by the irritation all over that handsome face. Was he the reason the black-haired woman had stormed off?