Jan Hambright - Dark Guardian

Olivia placed the last piece of paper on the stack and stood up. Glancing around the library, she studied the two lone patrons. A young teenaged girl and a middleaged woman. Neither of them looked like a would-be printer-monger and Internet saboteur.

This freaky episode was too much like what she’d experienced in the basement of the clinic. Otherworldly.

“Thanks. I’ll come back when the Internet is up.”

The librarian tucked a stray strand of gray hair back behind her ear and nodded. “Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” She exited the single-story library building and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Scanning the street in both directions, she half expected to see Jack Trayborne’s distinctive car, but it wasn’t there. How was it he always seemed to be nearby when things got weird?

Maybe it was time to poke the tiger.

She watched an older gentleman move toward her on the sidewalk.

“Excuse me, sir.”

He stopped, a polite smile on his mouth. “Yes, can I help you?”

“I need directions. Can you tell me where I might find Jack Trayborne’s home?”

His smile vanished. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know where he lives.” The man hurried away, leaving her amused.

Surely someone like Jack Trayborne was well-known in the community his family established. She’d almost bet everyone in town knew who he was and where he lived.

“Excuse me.” She stopped an elderly woman with a shopping bag on her arm. “Can you tell me where I might find Jack Trayborne’s home?”

The woman shook her head and picked up her pace in an effort to get away.

His address wasn’t listed in the phone book; she’d already checked. Maybe she could find out where he lived through the hotel?

About to give up, she spotted a young woman pushing a stroller along the sidewalk. It was worth another try.

“Excuse me, miss.”

The woman stopped. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you know who Jack Trayborne is?”

An instant smile spread on her lips. “Yes, I do. In fact, he’s my hero.”

Her confusion must have amplified on her face, because the young woman attempted to clarify.

“He saved Gracie’s life.”

“Gracie?”

“My baby girl.”

Olivia’s heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Staring down, she looked at the baby tucked into her stroller in a fluffy pink blanket. She had her mother’s pretty brown eyes.

“He saved your little girl? From what?”

“An out of control car. We were on the corner of Main and 11th. Grace was in her stroller. Virginia Radcliff accidently hit the gas pedal instead of her brake when the light turned red. She lost control of her car. It came through the intersection and jumped the curb. Jack Trayborne grabbed me and Gracie and pushed us out of the way. The car ended up right where we’d been waiting to cross. If it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t be here.” She looked down at her baby and the little girl smiled up at her mother.

Olivia could see how much she loved her child and a measure of respect for Jack Trayborne took shape in her brain.

“That’s a touching story, with a happy ending. I was wondering if you can tell me where he lives.”

“It’s easy to find. It’s just west of Black’s Cove Clinic.”

An ounce of dread leaked from her bones and splayed across her nerves. She’d made a silent vow to avoid that place like the plague.

Leaning over, she stared down at the adorable baby girl, pursed her lips, and made a clicking sound. Gracie responded, a toothless grin pulling up her mouth and bunching her baby cheeks. “Bye-bye, sweetie, glad you’re safe, and thank you…” She glanced at Gracie’s mom.

“Judy…Judy Bartholomew.”

“Judy. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

The young mother nodded and continued along the sidewalk.

Olivia pulled in a breath and headed for her hotel four blocks away. She planned to return to the library for a copy of the article she’d found on the Internet, but for now, she needed to write down everything she’d discovered about NPQ. And then there was Jack Trayborne. Hero, rescuer of women and infants. A Black’s Cove resident everyone had to know, but wouldn’t talk about or betray. Why?

Could she risk a face-to-face meeting with him before she’d uncovered enough ammunition to counter the verbal assault she was sure he’d launch against her and her exposé?

CAUTION WORKED its way through him as he stood in the deep shadows next to the street watching her speak briefly with Judy Bartholomew. Turning his head slightly, he searched for the sound of her voice among the street noise, picking out enough of the conversation to understand the trouble it invoked. After a couple of moments, she resumed her stroll along the sidewalk on the opposite side.

Olivia Morgan hadn’t left well enough alone, hadn’t taken the information from the clinic and come to a conclusion that would have made her leave town singing the praises of the facility’s attempts to help her brother. To give him a normal life.

Everything was in danger as long as she remained here. Her life, the lives of anyone who dared to help her along the way and his secret. Their secret.

Worry ground over his nerves and forced him into the sunlight. The air was charged; he could feel the surge of energy on his skin. He searched for a source, isolating it to within a block of where he stood. They were up to something.

Picking out Olivia’s movements, he reached out and put a field of protection around her.

The squeal of brakes behind him brought his head around.

An out-of-control sedan zoomed past, the driver waving his hands frantically.

Turning back around, he saw Olivia crossing the street one block ahead of him.

He broke into a run.

They planned to kill her, had from the moment she’d stepped foot in Black’s Cove. In that instant, he realized how determined they were to keep their secret. He wanted to keep it, too, but at the expense of another human being’s life?

He heard the impact, felt it jar his bones much like it jarred hers.

Bolting in between a couple of cars, he ground to a stop, assessing the situation unfolding at the intersection less than fifty feet away.

Heightening his senses, he listened for her heartbeat among the crowd gathering around the spot where Olivia Morgan lay in the street. There were too many of them to isolate her distinctive cardiac rhythm.

Concern pushed him forward. He mixed with the growing mass of interested folks who wanted to catch a glimpse of what had happened.

The hair at his nape bristled, warning him they were nearby, watching just like he was. Waiting, hoping, praying their brutal attempt to deal with Olivia Morgan had succeeded this time.

Olivia faded in and out of consciousness, wondering where it hurt, if it hurt and what had just happened.

She opened her eyes, staring up at the crowd gathered around her. The asphalt under her was hard and cold. She’d been hit by a car? It was the only thing that made sense.

The sudden pressure of hands on her body sent a charge of electricity shooting through her along with disbelief as she tried to sit up, realizing there was no one next to her.

She closed her eyes again, trying to reason away what was happening. It was crazy. Maybe she was unconscious or imagining the feel of hands moving over her body, almost like an examination. As quickly as the odd sensation took her, it stopped.

Sucking in a breath, she sat up, focusing on the faces of the people crowding around her.

“Hurry! Someone call an ambulance. I think she’s hurt.” A man in his twenties knelt next to her and touched her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked in an excited voice.