Lenora Worth - Lakeside Peril

“I don’t want you to live with any more grief,” she said, hoping he’d see the sincerity in her eyes. “I came to you because you know Oklahoma. You grew up there. You know the oil fields and you know how things work.”

And because her sister had written his name with a question mark beside it in her notes. There were some other interesting revelations in her sister’s papers, but Chloe figured she’d have to dole out those details one at a time with this man. Had Laura planned on finding him?

“Yeah, I know it all,” he said in a taut whisper. “I watched my parents scrape and grovel just to keep a roof over our heads. My daddy worked himself to death and my mother’s health is so bad now she had to move in with her sister in another state. I blame their misery on Conrad Oil.”

“And you blame your own misery on my family, too,” she said, unafraid of him now. “You understand, Hunter. It might hurt and you might not like it, but you’re one of the few people who can find the truth on this.” She stopped, took in a breath and wished she could blurt out all her findings. “In the same way you fought against my father to find out the truth about your sister’s accident.”

He took her by the arm, his expression brooding and brittle with rage. “I’ll find the truth, all right. But you need to think long and hard on what’s about to happen. I won’t forgive and I won’t forget. If I have to, I’ll put them all in jail. So if you came here on some rich-girl mission to rebel against your daddy, you won’t be having any fun.”

Anger poured over Chloe in a heated rush. She glared up at him, matching the fire in his eyes. “Do I look like I’m having fun?”

He dropped her arm. “No.”

Chloe saw the trace of regret in his stormy eyes and played on it. “If you can’t find it in your heart to help me, then...I’ll go home and keep digging on my own. I’m used to doing things on my own.”

“And you’ll die trying.”

“Maybe. But at least I’ll know I did my best.”

He stared down at her, the battle raging inside him causing his body to shake. She could tell he wanted to say more, but before he could form the words, they heard tires hitting the shell-covered lane leading up to the house. Then headlights flashed briefly and went dark.

Hunter spun into action. Pushing her behind him, he pulled out his weapon and then hurried her around to the front of the house that faced the yard down to the beach.

“There’s a path along the bay,” he whispered. “I’m going to check this out, but if I’m not back in five minutes, take that path up to the road to the west. You’ll find a bait shop there. Keep your phone close and call 911 if you think anyone is following you.”

“I’m not going without you,” she said, her nerves twisting into painful knots.

“You might not have any other choice,” he said. “Wait here. I should be back soon enough.”

And then he was gone.

Chloe hid behind the storage room that was centered underneath the pilings and searched for anything she could use as a weapon. Determined not to leave without Hunter, she spotted a baseball bat. That could do some damage. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if Hunter got hurt. Or killed.

* * *

Hunter crouched low and moved through the shadows. Since he knew every shrub and tree in these woods, he had an advantage over whoever had come for a visit.

The battered pickup truck had stopped about halfway up the drive. He couldn’t tell if anyone was inside or not and he didn’t recognize the dark-colored truck.

When he heard the click of a gun being loaded, he went behind the truck and listened. Then he saw a man moving near the line of mossy oaks on one side of the driveway toward the house.

Hunter stayed behind him, following at a close distance. If this was part of the same hit team that had tried twice now, he’d have to take matters into his own hands. Whoever had sent them obviously wanted Chloe dead, no matter what.

The man was about ten yards away from the house when Hunter heard a buzzing sound. He stopped behind a massive live oak and listened after the man pulled out a cell phone.

“I think this is the place, but I don’t see anyone around.”

Silence. Hunter held his breath. How had they found Chloe here?

“Yeah, whatever, man. I need to get in, get out and go. And I’m not feeling this. Something’s not right.” Another pause. “Well, maybe he took her somewhere else.” Then, “Yes, sir.”

The man hung up and turned to head back to his truck.

Hunter met him, stepping out from the tree so quickly he tripped the unsuspecting man with a booted foot and then placed that same foot over the man’s chest.

Aiming his Glock semiautomatic straight for the man’s chest, he said, “Drop the gun and start talking.”

* * *

Chloe checked her watch. Four minutes and counting. Now that the sun had gone down, it was hard to see past the palm trees and towering, moss-covered oaks. She didn’t want to walk the dark path to the bait shop.

She wasn’t going to, she decided. She would go and find Hunter. With the old wooden bat held in a defensive mode in front of her, she had just started around the storage room when she heard footsteps approaching. She jumped back and pressed against the wall, her breath stopping. The footsteps kept coming.

Afraid to peek or to call out, Chloe held the bat up and waited. She heard a thump and then someone coming her way.

Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and held a death grip on the bat. Then she rushed around the corner of the storage room and made ready for battle.

The man took the bat right out of her hands.

“Hunter!”

He held the bat in one hand and her in the other. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Chloe yanked away and straightened her clothes. “I was coming to look for you.”

“With this?” He threw the bat down on the concrete floor and sent it rolling into a corner. “I see you’re okay. That’s good, at least.”

“I’m fine. What happened?”

“He did,” Hunter said, pointing to a skinny man with long stringy hair sitting with his hands caught up in a tight plastic ring of some sort. “He was looking for you.”

Chloe walked over to the man and stared down at him. “Sonny?”

“You know this scumbag?” Hunter asked, his gaze swinging from her to the man.

“Yes,” she said, sick to her stomach. “His name is Sonny Bolton. He works for my father.”

Hunter walked over to where the man sat with downcast eyes. “Is that true?”

Sonny finally looked up, nodding to Chloe. “Hey, Miss Chloe.” Then he gave Hunter a look that bordered on fearful before he cast his gaze back on Chloe. “Mr. Conrad sent me to bring you home.”

“Bring me home?” Shock filled Chloe’s system. “Bring me home? What am I, a sack of potatoes?”

Sonny shrugged. “I don’t know. I just follow orders.”

Hunter leaned down eye-to-eye with Sonny. “Would those orders include trying to kill her? You were armed, remember?”

Sonny’s head came up. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was told to find her, throw her in the truck and take off. Nobody said anything about killing anybody. I always travel with a weapon, and this place looked like I might need one.”

Hunter got down on one knee and grabbed Sonny by the collar of his frayed button-up shirt. “Are you sure you didn’t come here to hurt Miss Conrad?”

Sonny bobbed his head, his long neck stretching like a turkey’s. “I’m not a killer. And why would I want to hurt Miss Chloe? She’s always been good to me.”

Chloe put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder to rein him in. “Sonny, what are you doing here?”