Carol Ericson - The Pregnancy Plot

Coburn read his thoughts. “You would’ve remembered all that if you hadn’t been so intent on protesting the assignment. I need you focused, Bennett.”

“I’m on it, boss. Protect the pregnant lady.”

“We have to cover all our bases. We don’t know what’s going on right now or what to believe from Max Duvall’s crazy stories.”

“The body of Nina Moore’s fiancé hasn’t turned up yet, has it?”

“Nope.”

“Maybe he’s not even dead.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t change our mission.”

“Protect the pregnant lady.”

“Exactly.”

Jase ended the call and squinted through the gray haze that enveloped the small town rolling out in front of him. Maybe the pregnant lady had escaped to Break Island to hide her condition from her ex-fiancé. He snorted and snatched his coffee from the planter.

Wouldn’t be the first time a woman had tried to hide a pregnancy from a man.

He checked into a small motel in the center of town and returned to the office to get to work. He touched the bell on the counter, and the motel’s proprietor came out from the back.

“Everything okay in your room?”

“Everything’s fine.” He picked up a flyer about the island’s bird sanctuary and tucked it into his pocket. “Maisie, right?”

“That’s right.”

In true small-town fashion, Maisie had introduced herself when he checked in. “On my way in on the ferry, I noticed a B and B on the shore. It looked kind of rough but still open. Any chance the owner needs some help fixing up the place? I’m looking for a little work, and that’s right up my alley.”

“I don’t know if Nina’s looking for help, but she should be. Moonstones has been empty for a few years now and could sure use some TLC.”

“Thanks, Maisie.” He rapped his knuckles on the counter. “I think I’ll head over there and see if I can offer Nina some TLC.”

Once outside, Jase adjusted his shoulder holster beneath his blue flannel shirt. He’d fit right in with these lumberjack types.

He jogged down the steps of the motel, which sat at the end of the main street, and headed for the path that led down to the beach. He made a left turn, hugging the shoreline as he scuffed along the sandy path toward Nina’s B and B. Moonstones perched on a rocky beach on the far edge of town, along with a few other beach houses. Nina must’ve really wanted to get away from it all.

He traipsed through the sand and clambered over some rocks to get a good view of the building before approaching it.

A tangled garden spilled over the ramshackle fence that ringed the property. One blue shutter hung by a broken hinge, revealing a crack in the window. This didn’t look like a prime spot for someone expecting a baby.

But Coburn had ordered him to get close to the subject, and this ramshackle B and B offered the perfect opportunity. He wouldn’t be his grandfather’s disciple if he didn’t know his way around a hammer and nail—even though Dad had disapproved.

He shuffled through the dry sand and crossed the road to the B and B. The battered wooden gate sagged and he pushed through to the garden in the front. Using the rusty hook, he latched the gate behind him.

This place wouldn’t provide much security if someone wanted to get to Nina. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.

He veered off the overgrown walkway to the front of the B and B, slogging through the knee-high weeds, and cut a path to the corner of the building. He peered around it, taking in a deck with patio furniture stacked in the corner and a fire pit crisscrossed with charred logs.

Squinting, he could almost envision a circle of guests around a roaring fire, toasting marshmallows as the waves lapped at the dock where the boats gently bobbed. Almost.

He hooked his thumb in the front pocket of his jeans and started to turn back...but the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being readied for use stopped him in his tracks.

Chapter Two

His adrenaline pulsed for two beats, as his finger twitched for his weapon. Then he took a deep breath. If one of his enemies had a gun on him, he’d already be dead.

A woman’s voice barked out an order. “Put your hands in the air and turn around...slowly.”

He complied and added a smile to his face for good measure.

Nina Moore held him at bay with an old shotgun that looked as if it had seen its best days during the Civil War. Her dark ponytail hung over one shoulder and she widened her stance as she leveled the barrel of the shotgun right between his eyes.

Crazy pregnant lady.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?”

“My name’s Jase Buckley and I heard you needed some help fixing up this place.”

Her eyes narrowed. He couldn’t quite catch their color from here, but they glittered dangerously.

“Who told you that?”

“Maisie—the woman at my motel.” He’d led Maisie on, but she would at least verify that they’d had a conversation about how the owner of Moonstones might need help repairing the place. “I’m new on the island. I came here to do some writing, but I also need to earn some cash.”

“Maisie, huh?” The gun slipped a little and she tapped the toe of her sneaker on the sandy ground. “I can check out your story.”

“Go right ahead.” He waved his hands in the air. “Can I put my arms down now?”

She loosened her grip on the shotgun and pinned it against her side. “I could use some help around here, but I fully intend to check you out.”

“I thought Break Island was one of those friendly, small-town places.” He cocked his head. “Didn’t realize you could get shot going up to someone’s front door.”

“You didn’t go up to my front door.” She tipped her chin toward him. “You came around here to the side.”

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I was admiring the deck and the fire pit, or at least admiring what it could be.”

She ran her tongue along her lower lip, her shoulders still rigid. “Yeah, I plan to fix that up...eventually.”

He hadn’t expected Nina to be on edge, unless she always greeted strangers with a shotgun. Had someone attempted to contact her already? What did she know about her ex-fiancé’s disappearance?

“I can help you with that.” He cleared his throat as his gaze swept across her lean frame, no baby bump in sight. He’d have to pretend he knew nothing of her pregnancy. “I’ll be on the island for a while, and I need some gainful employment.”

“What do you write?”

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kicked at a rock on the crumbling path. “I’m a former marine, did a few tours in Afghanistan. Thought I’d write what I know, a fictional account.”

Her eyes widened and her fingers curled around the butt of the shotgun. “Y-you’re military?”

“Retired.” He thought it best to stick as close to the truth as possible, but his military background bothered her—must be memories of her ex-fiancé, Simon Skinner. She had ended it with Skinner before he disappeared. Maybe they’d had a bad breakup.

With his hands still stuffed in his pockets, he lifted his shoulders to his ears. “Just thought I had an interesting story to tell, but the book’s not a bestseller yet. Hell, the book isn’t even written yet. That’s why I need to make some money while I figure out if this story will write itself.”

“I do have a soft spot for military men.” She blinked and rested one hand on her stomach. “My...my stepfather was in the navy.”

And her ex-fiancé was a navy SEAL before joining Tempest as an agent...and winding up dead.

“I hope you’ll give this vet a chance.” He swept his arm across her property. “I can help you out here.”