Heather Graham - Tangled Threat

“Here—in Florida,” Angie said. “I mean—at the History Tree.”

He turned at last to face Angie. “I’m here for an investigation now. I’m going to suggest that you two head back to the resort and don’t wander off alone. A woman’s remains were found at a laundry facility not far from here, and there are three young women who have gone missing recently. Best to stay in the main areas—with plenty of people around.”

“Oh!” Angie went into damsel-in-distress mode then. “Is it really dangerous, do you think? I’m so glad that you’re here, if there is danger. I mean, we’ve seen the news...heard things, but seriously, bad things aren’t necessarily happening here, right? It’s just a tree. Florida is far from crime-free, but... Anyway, thank God that you’re here. We didn’t really think we needed to be afraid, but now you’re here...and thank God! Right, Maura?”

Maura didn’t reply. She’d heard Angie speaking as if she’d been far, far away. Then she found her voice. Or, at least, a whisper of it.

“Brock,” she murmured.

“Maura,” he returned casually. “Good to see you. Well, surprised to see you—but good to see you.”

“Investigation,” she said, grasping for something to say. She seemed to be able to manage one word at a time.

“I just told you—they found a woman’s remains, and three young women who have been reported missing had a connection to the Frampton Ranch and Resort. The FDLE has asked for Bureau help,” he explained politely.

“Yes, we were just talking about the young woman’s remains—and the missing girls. I, uh, I think I’d heard that you did go into the FBI,” she said. “And they sent you...here.” There. She had spoken in complete sentences. More or less. She’d been almost comprehensible.

“Yes, pretty much followed my original plans. Navy, college, the academy—FBI. And yes, I’m back here. Nothing like sending in an agent who knows the terrain,” he said. “Shall we head back? I am serious. You shouldn’t be in the woods alone when...well, when no one has any idea of what is really going on. We’re not trying to incite fear. We’re just trying to get a grip on what is happening, but I do suggest caution. Shall we head back?”

He was the same.

He was different.

And she was afraid to come too close to him. Afraid that the emotions of a teenager would erupt within her again, as if the years meant nothing...

If she got too close, she would either want to beat upon him, slamming her fists against his chest, demanding to know why he had never called, never tried to reach her and how it had been so easy to forget her.

Either that, or she would throw herself into his arms and sob and do anything just to touch him again.

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