ChapterFive
Emery felt shaky and off kilter as she looked at the bedroom door Greer Delta had just shut behind him. Greer Delta. He didn’t growl. He didn’t even feel growly. How could that quiet, confident, appealing cowboy be her brother’s murderer? It didn’t add up. When he’d touched her hand, she felt warm and like she’d come home. That made no sense. If that hand had truly killed Travis, Emery was horrified by her reaction.
She dug her fingertips into her forehead. She’d never been so confused. Dropping the T-shirt Greer had given her on the bed, she sank into a cozy armchair and watched the night deepen. The gorgeous lake and mountains beyond were picture perfect. Her life sure wasn’t. Her life was a mess.
Unzipping the backpack, she pulled out her phone and texted the Voice’s number.I’m in. He seemed to buy the story.
Great,the guy responded quickly.Figure out the location and let me know. Your brother will be so proud and your nation grateful.
She responded with a thumbs up, but rather than feeling gratified by the man’s empty praise, irritation laced through her. Was she crazy? Had she really felt impressed from heaven above and Travis’s video to come here? She was starting to doubt heavenly inspiration. She was insane to have agreed to infiltrate Greer’s life.
All that money and the Voice’s continuous reminders about her serving her country like Travis would have done and avenging her brother’s death had made her feel like she was committed without ever agreeing to it. A tick of fear said the Voice could be lying and using her for his own agenda against the Delta family. What did she know? The only facts she had were that Travis was definitely dead and the Navy had definitely said he was AWOL and hadn’t admitted that his death had anything to do with a special ops mission or any mission associated with the military. That part of the story backed up the Voice being truthful. Travis would never go AWOL. The military was his life, and she wanted to serve her country and finish the job Travis had started.
But Greer … that man had thrown a wrench in her plans. He appeared to be all things good, humble, kind, and attractive. The Voice had said the Deltas had been deluded into believing they were representing the good guys. So Greer might be deluded and have every good intention of doing what was right. In his head, he could believe he’d killed her brother for the greater good. Yet could Greer be a killer? He sure didn’t seem like it.
She shoved the phone back into her backpack, pulled out her toiletry kit, stood, and picked up the T-shirt. She wanted to smell it and see if it smelled like Greer. As if she knew what he smelled like. She could imagine he smelled like leather, horses, outdoors, and musk. A real manly, macho, masculine, tough, appealing smell.
“Ugh,” she grunted at herself. Who cared what he smelled like? She could not be attracted to him. That was all kinds of twisted.
She hurried to strip out of her T-shirt and shorts. She was tempted to leave her bra and panties outside the door for Greer to launder as well. That made her smile. He’d be so embarrassed. She hardly knew him, but she knew touching her bra and panties would flip him out.
She gently slid open the door and dropped her T-shirt and shorts outside of it. There was a shower running somewhere in the house. Shutting the door, she hurried to the bathroom attached to her bedroom, locking the doors leading to both bedrooms and the hallway. The shower felt wonderful, and she scrubbed at her own underwear and hung them in the shower to dry. Luckily she had extra clothes in her backpack—not that Greer knew that. Did he suspect who she was? He had to. There’d been flashes of something suspicious in his eyes several times as they’d talked, but he’d been a complete gentleman throughout their interaction.
How many people would invite some supposedly abused and afraid stranger into their house? Not many. If he believed she was Taylor, he was an impressive protector of women. If he realized she was Emery, he was probably subscribing to the theory to keep your enemies close. She really didn’t want to be his enemy, but her loyalty to Travis demanded it.
She pulled on her clean underwear and then tugged Greer’s shirt over her head. It smelled like clean laundry. That made sense as he’d probably never worn a shirt that said he was a “super sexy rancher.” She smiled, thinking how his tanned skin had grown darker as she’d read those words aloud.
Wiping the smile off her face, she dropped to her knees and prayed for help. She was so confused. Was the Voice a good guy and helping her avenge her brother or was Greer a good guy and the Voice was using her or did Greer justthinkhe was a good guy like the Voice had explained?
She had no idea and even prayer didn’t settle her. She had felt impressed to come here; she was sure of it. She’d cling to that and go forward with faith. Her gut turned over with worry. A lot of faith.
She hurried to change the sheets and dropped the old ones outside the door as well. She felt bad having Greer do her laundry. But that was stupid. She shouldn’t feel badly about any of this. Her brother was dead and the Voice was certain Greer had killed him. She should be terrified and angry, but she was more unsettled and baffled and so, so sad. Ah, Travis. She dropped to her knees once again and prayed for his soul and for her protection and to somehow see clearly through this muddle.
Standing, she trudged to the bathroom again. She brushed her wet hair and her teeth, used the bathroom, checked to make sure the bedroom door and door to the bathroom from her bedroom was locked, and then stretched out on the clean sheets. It felt nice. These were high-quality sheets and a high-quality bed and pillow. Maybe she’d go a night without the nightmare.
Should she stay awake and go search through Greer’s office for any clues about the secret weapon? Would his computer be password-protected? If he was hiding something, it probably would. Maybe she could get his phone from his nightstand, hold it up to his sleeping face to unlock it, and read through texts and emails until she found the answers the Voice needed so she could get out of this confusing chaos.
Both ideas sounded terrifying. If he caught her, what would she say and what would he do? No matter the voice saying Greer wouldn’t hurt a lady and her own instinctive feelings that he was a complete gentleman. He’d killed her brother to protect this weapon. She had to keep reminding herself Greer could be very dangerous, though he hadn’t felt dangerous to her.
She groaned. She was insane. How had she thought she could fish out some secret from a highly trained killer? What was she doing here?
Rolling over, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed over and over again. “Help me. Please help me.”
She was pushing through a forest. It was thick and dark and eerie. Travis’s voice echoed through the air. “Tell me the secret. Lead me to the weapon!”
Emery ran toward him, stopping at the edge of a clearing and screaming in horror as her brother pulled out a knife and stabbed a blonde woman repeatedly. The woman cried out in anguish, her blue eyes full of pain and horror. Blood gushed from her wounds.
“No!” Emery screamed. “Travis, no! Stop!”
Great sobs shook her body. Travis wouldn’t murder some woman. He couldn’t. He was a good person. He’d protected and been there for Emery.
“No!” she screamed over and over. “No, stop! Travis, stop!”
“Taylor. Taylor.”
Someone was touching her shoulder and kept repeating the name Taylor. That made about as much sense as her awful dream.
“Wake up.” The voice was masculine and deep. It rumbled through her and gave her a sense of peace.