Hope White - Safe Harbor

“Don’t talk like that. Hey.” He tipped her chin so she had to look into his warm blue eyes. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

For a second she was lost in the sincerity of his voice and concerned expression. Then common sense slapped her back to reality. She turned away and studied her cocoa. “I’m ready to go now.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could tell he watched her, assessing what to say next, if anything. No wonder he was confused. She was a powder keg, needy one minute and explosive the next, biting his head off when all he did was save her life.

She took a breath and glanced up to apologize, but he’d already opened the door. “Doctor Wendell?” he called into the hallway.

The doctor stepped into the examining room and looked from Alex to Nicole.

“She’s ready to go,” he said.

Dr. Wendell removed the IV and blankets. “Someone should check on her every few hours.”

“I’ve got it covered,” Alex said.

Meaning what? He was going stay close and protect Nic even though she’d been so incredibly rude to him? If only he hadn’t kept pushing her, trying to make light of her past. Yet how could he have known?

“You’re all set,” the doctor said. “You can return the scrubs tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Nic said.

Doctor Wendell left them alone. Nic shifted off the bed and Alex offered his hand for support. She automatically took it and warmth shot up her arm. Incredible. How could his hand be warm when he had to be freezing from the damp clothing?

“You should get scrubs to wear out of here,” she suggested.

“I’ve got extra sweatshirts in the truck. I’ll get one for each of us.”

She realized they were still holding hands.

And she didn’t want to let go.

He must have read fear on her face—fear of depending on someone, fear of being let down again—because he slipped his hand from hers and opened the door.

“Wait,” she said.

He hesitated, but didn’t turn around.

“Thanks,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

“You’re welcome, and there’s no need to apologize. I have a habit of poking around where I don’t belong. I’ll try not to let it happen again. Give me a minute to get the sweatshirts.”

He stepped out and shut the door with a click.

“I’m an idiot,” she whispered. After all, the detective just wanted to help.

Yet her frazzled emotional state was understandable considering what she’d been through tonight. Besides being a witness to murder, she’d nearly drowned.

But she didn’t, thanks to Detective Donovan’s CPR skills.

She leaned against the bright white wall and closed her eyes. What would happen next? Would federal agents whisk her away and detain her until she remembered something helpful? Would they be able to protect her from the killer who would surely try again?

She had no confidence in the police, but for some reason she trusted Alex. There was something about his deep voice infused with truth and integrity that demanded trust. Whatever came next, she hoped he’d be a part of it.

Someone knocked on the door. She figured it was Alex.

“Come in.”

The door popped open and a tall, bald man with a mustache, wearing a dark suit and aviator sunglasses flashed his badge. “I’m Special Agent Ted Maines with the FBI. You need to come with me.”

“But—”

“Please, ma’am. Time is critical. The killer eluded our search of the property. He could be anywhere, even in this medical center.” He motioned her out of the room.

She stepped out into the hall and he led her away. Nic kept glancing over her shoulder in search of Alex.

“Where are you going?” Doctor Wendell asked, speed walking to block them.

“FBI.” He flashed his badge over his shoulder at the doctor.

“You need to wait for Detective Donovan,” the doctor said.

“No, ma’am, I don’t.” He pulled Nic down the hall toward the back exit of the medical center.

This is why she hated law enforcement. They didn’t respect your feelings or opinions. They just took what they wanted. The agent shoved open the metal door and led her across the parking lot to a waiting SUV.

“Where are we going?”

Would she ever see Alex again?

“Someplace safe.”

A shudder raced down her back. There was no such place.

“No.” She struggled against his grasp. “Let me go!”

THREE

Talk about stepping into quicksand. Alex blew it in there, questioning Nicole to the point where she’d broken down, confessing her brutal childhood. He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant to reveal so much about herself in one breath.

Could Alex have been any more insensitive? Probably not. But he was trying to get her to open up so he could assess how to protect her.

Alex’s cell phone vibrated with a call from Chief Roth.

“Hi, Chief,” Alex answered.

“I heard you went chest-to-chest with the FBI.”

“He was bullying a witness.”

“How’s she doing?”

“It’s been a rough night. She was hiding in the closet when I found her.”

“Too traumatized to talk to the Feds?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mark said she gave you the slip?”

“And nearly drowned. She was running from someone. The killer could have still been on the property when we left.”

“Not a smart move on his part. What’s your current location?”

“Medical center, then Harbor Lights Inn. I have to wake her every few hours due to a mild concussion. Do we still have jurisdiction on this one?”

“Absolutely. The Feds aren’t here for the murder case. They’ve got their own agenda. You did good tonight, Alex.”

“I nearly lost the witness.”

“But you got her back. Let’s focus on PA.”

Productive Action was a term the chief had coined to keep his staff focused on solving problems, not feeding them.

“Keep the witness safe. We owe it to Edward to find his killer,” Chief Roth said. “I’ll call when I know more.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll send a cruiser to sit outside the inn. Never hurts to have someone watching your back.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Alex shoved the phone into his pocket and pulled a couple of Decker’s Lakeside Resort sweatshirts from the truck. His brother never missed an opportunity to promote one of his properties by giving away free sweatshirts with his logo emblazoned across the chest. He’d given Alex a few to hand out to friends, not that Alex had much of a social life since he moved back to Waverly Harbor. At least the sweatshirts would come in handy.

Alex scanned the lot, then pulled off his shirt and undershirt, and yanked the thick cotton sweatshirt over his head. He sensed Nicole needed a moment alone after exposing her past to Alex. He reached into his gym bag for a pair of sweatpants.

“Detective Donovan!” Dr. Wendell waved frantically from the building. “Hurry!”

He slammed the door and took off, panic spiraling in his chest. Had something happened to Nicole? Did she pass out again? Stop breathing?

“What—”

“He claimed he was FBI,” she interrupted. “He took her out the back door.”

Alex tossed the spare sweatshirt and pants on a chair as he rushed down the hall. What was the agent thinking, dragging her out against her will? Because Alex was pretty sure she wouldn’t have gone willingly without checking with him first.

He shoved open the back door and spotted Nicole struggling against a tall, bald man who was trying to shove her into an SUV. Alex had made a promise not to let anything happen to her and he’d blown it. Again.

“Hey!” Alex shouted.

The guy let go of Nicole with such force that she stumbled and lost her balance. Alex tried getting to her before she hit the ground but failed.