Keeping Her Safe. Barbara Phinney

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can provide the security you need. Give it some thought.”

      “Who do you think might want this land?” Hunter asked.

      She smiled again, making Rae shiver unexpectedly. “I have a few people in mind. Perhaps I could evaluate your property for you. Free of charge, of course.”

      “No, thank you,” Rae answered.

      “Are you sure? Acreage around here is going fast.”

      The woman wasn’t getting the message, Rae thought. But she had managed to pique her interest. “What land around here? I haven’t seen any For Sale signs, and behind me is all provincially owned forest.”

      “Don’t be fooled by the lack of signs. This area is ripe for development and I want you to benefit from it.”

      Wasn’t she kind? Rae wanted to answer her own question, but by then the woman had drilled one of her thin stiletto heels into the soft edge of the driveway. With a yank, she pulled her sandal free and sashayed back to her little black coupe. When she turned at the end of the driveway, the car door showed her bold, smiling face along with her agency’s logo.

      “I can’t believe what just happened.” With a shake of her head, Rae returned to the workshop. Hunter still stood outside. Through the window, she could see his back. He turned, as if scanning the property.

      Her heart lurched. Was he actually considering Christine’s offer? Was he thinking of forcing her to sell this place?

      Would he thwart her desire to make this shop viable again? Worry gnawed at her and she did her best to discard it. Don’t borrow trouble. You have enough on your plate today to deal with.

      She’d make this place work better than ever before. She had to. She’d bring the business back to its former strength, and no one was going to stop her.

      “Let’s go.”

      Rae frowned at Hunter, who’d walked in while she was deep in thought. “Where?”

      “To the police. We agreed, and we’d have been there and back by now if it wasn’t for that woman. She doesn’t change anything here. We need to talk to the cops.”

      He was still concerned for her safety. That seemed to squash any suggestion that he wanted money out of their new arrangement. Otherwise he would have used the threat, along with this offer of Christine’s, to force her to sell.

      She reluctantly followed him outside. It was going to be a long day. Reaching the truck, she turned. The half-bare trees beyond her house rattled in the wind, like dry, bony skeletons.

      The milled lumber at the edge of the yard snagged her eye, and she saw that what had been a neat pile two weeks ago was now leaning awkwardly, almost like a makeshift teepee. Had the wind pushed over the boards? Or had trespassers knocked the lumber off its supports on their way across her land?

      Shivering, she stole a glance at Hunter as he climbed into the truck. It was probably hikers, nothing more, and not worth mentioning.

      All the way into Green Valley, she wondered how he was going to convince the police that someone wanted to hurt her. A dead man’s complaint of gas-soaked rags, burned up now, and the notion of trespassers, probably Christine and her staff checking out the place, were hardly worrisome.

      That was as crazy as Rae sitting in the police station foyer with Hunter, waiting patiently for some officer to come out and listen to a supposed warning from her father.

      Hunter had to be insane to think that the local cops would act on such weak evidence. They were going to think her dad had become deranged from the cancer.

      Tears stung Rae’s eyes. She was hurting her father’s memory by coming here.

      An officer entered the small foyer. The tall man glanced down at her, then his curious gaze settled on Hunter, who had risen when the security door opened.

      The two men stared at each other. Immediately, Rae sensed tension between them. The officer stiffened, and Hunter’s hand strayed to his shoulder, where the scar showing above his collar deepened in color.

      The policeman turned to her. “My name’s Mike Halloway. How can I help you two?”

      Hunter answered. “This is Rae Benton. We need to report a danger to her.”

      Rae rose. She didn’t want to censor Hunter’s words, but perhaps she could tell the police what Hunter had told her, without making her father look like a fool. “There could be a small amount of danger to my life.”

      Halloway crossed his arms. “What makes you think that?”

      She paused. “My father told him when he was in jail.”

      “Prison. Hunter was in the federal prison, not the provincial jail.”

      He knew Hunter had been incarcerated? They were on a first name basis? Was that the reason for his obvious tension?

      “Whatever,” she told the officer. “The point is, my father believed my life was in danger, and asked Hunter to come back here to discover why that was.”

      “Your father didn’t know?”

      Her cheeks warmed. “No, he didn’t. And he didn’t tell me anything about it. He probably thought he could handle it, and was too proud to ask for my help.”

      “Was it like him to do that?”

      She wasn’t sure. She’d thought that her father had kept her informed on most, if not all, issues of importance, but he hadn’t told her about his will. Or even about his cancer until the very end. Feeling foolish, she shrugged.

      Hunter looked impatient. “Can we discuss this in your office?”

      “If you like.” Halloway led them into the small station, past some desks and into a row of cubicles that served as offices. He indicated for Rae to sit.

      She’d never been in a police station before. She’d never even talked to an officer of the law before. And doing so now felt like a waste of everyone’s time.

      “So,” Halloway began, pulling up another chair, while taking out a large notepad and pen. “What has happened to make you two think someone wants to harm you?”

      Hunter repeated everything he’d said to her.

      Halloway’s pen hovered over the paper, while Rae studied his profile.

      She’d seen the officer before, she decided, at the hospital, the day before her dad had died. Moncton General Hospital was a busy place. There were usually dozens of people in the entrance alone. But she remembered seeing this tall policeman there.

      Strangely, that memory made the hair on her scalp tingle and a chill trickle down her neck.

      Halloway glanced up at her, his pen still poised above the blank paper. He met her startled gaze coolly and she found herself wondering what he was thinking. Maybe about how they were wasting his time?

      Letting her exasperation flare, she stood. This was ridiculous. “Look, Hunter, we’ve reported it,

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