to meet you, Ms. Sheldon.”
Tag had told her that his brothers shared more than a love of barbecue. The resemblance was amazing. Like Tag, Hayes Cardwell had the dark hair and eyes, had the wonderful Southern accent and was handsome as sin.
She thought of Ted Bundy as she took Hayes Cardwell’s large hand, hers disappearing inside it, and saw his dark gaze go to the bandage on her head. “I had a little accident last night.”
“You’re all right, though?” He still held her hand. She could feel herself trembling and feared he could, too.
She put on her best smile. “Fine.” Then she finally met his gaze.
His eyes were a deep brown and so familiar that it sent a shudder through her. Even though she’d told her sister that there was nothing to worry about, she was well aware that the man who’d attacked her last night could be closer than she thought.
* * *
HE’D STAYED HOME from work saying he didn’t feel well, even though he knew that might look suspicious if he was ever a suspect. But he was too anxious and upset over last night to go to work today.
There’d been nothing of use in the morning paper, only a short few paragraphs.
Police say a man tried to abduct a 28-year-old woman about 10:35 p.m. last night in the River Street Market parking lot.
The man attacked the woman as she came out of the market and attempted to put her into the trunk of his vehicle. He is described as over six feet with a muscular build. He was wearing a dark-colored baseball cap and driving a newer-model large car, also dark in color.
If anyone has information, they should contact the local police department.
He knew he should be glad that the information was just as useless to the police. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him, which was great unless they had some reason to withhold that information. That aside, nothing in the news was helping him find the woman.
Too restless to stay in the house, he decided to go for a walk in his northside neighborhood to clear his head. The houses were smaller on this side of town, many of them having been remodeled when the boom in housing came through years before.
House prices had dropped with the mortgage fiasco, but so many people wanted to live in his valley that prices had never reached the lows they had elsewhere. He was glad he hadn’t been tricked into selling his house for top dollar. He could have found himself in a house he couldn’t afford. Instead, his small, comfortable home was paid for since he lived conservatively.
Everything about his lifestyle looked normal on paper. He’d attended Montana State University right there in Bozeman. He’d bought a house after he graduated with a degree in marketing and had gone to work for a local company. He was an exemplary employee, a good neighbor, a man who flew under the radar. If caught, everyone who knew him would be shocked and say they never would have suspected him of all people.
As he walked around his neighborhood, he saw that more houses were for sale. It made him upset to think that his older neighbors were dying off because more college students would be moving in. Constant temptation, he thought with a groan.
He promised himself the next time he took a woman it would be in another town. Even better, another state. He couldn’t take the chance so close to home ever again. If there was another time. Last night’s botched abduction had left him shaken. She’d jinxed things for him. If he didn’t find the woman and fix this—
At a corner he hadn’t walked past in some time, he saw that another house had gone on the market. But that wasn’t what made him stumble to a stop next to the strip of freshly mown lawn.
There she was! He could never forget that face and now there she was. Right there on the real-estate sign in the yard, smiling up at him as if daring him to come after her.
McKenzie Sheldon of M.K. Sheldon Realty.
* * *
“ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?”
McKenzie nodded, even though she was far from all right. Did she really think she recognized this man? She hadn’t seen the face of the man who’d tried to abduct her so she couldn’t have seen his eyes. This man’s eyes were...familiar and yet she’d never met him before, had she? Would she look at every man she met and think he was the one who’d attacked her?
Hayes Cardwell was staring at her with concern and something else in his expression. Compassion?
It was the very last thing she needed right now. Tears welled in her eyes. She felt lightheaded and groped for the wall behind her for support.
“If you’d prefer to do this some other time,” Hayes said.
She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. It must have been something I ate.” In truth, she hadn’t eaten anything since the day before. No wonder she felt lightheaded. But she’d toughened it out through worse, she told herself, remembering when she’d taken on the agency.
Tag Cardwell hadn’t seemed to notice her no doubt odd behavior. He was busy looking in the windows of the building, anxious to get inside and show his brother the space.
“I think you’re going to like this location for your restaurant,” she said, turning away from Hayes Cardwell’s dark, intent gaze and what she saw there. “Let me show you. It’s perfect for what you have in mind.”
Her fingers shook so hard, she didn’t think she was going to be able to put the key in the lock. A large, sun-tanned hand reached around her and gently took the keys from her.
“Let me do that,” Hayes said. His voice was soft, his Southern accent comforting and almost familiar.
She was going mad. She could smell his male scent along with the soap he’d used to shower that morning. He was a big man—like the man last night who’d attacked her. She touched her bruised throat and closed her eyes against the terrifying memory.
He opened the door and she stumbled in and away from him. Her cell phone rang and she was startled to see that it was the police department.
“I need to take this. Please have a look around.” She scooted past Hayes and back outside, leaving the two men alone inside what had been a restaurant only months ago. Her phone rang again. She sucked in a deep breath of the June mountain air and, letting it out, took the call. As she did, she prayed the man had been caught. She couldn’t keep living like this.
“Ms. Sheldon?” the policewoman asked.
“Yes?”
“I spoke to the man who intervened last night during your attack. He still would prefer to remain anonymous.”
“You’re sure he wasn’t involved?”
“Involved? No. The clerk at the store was a witness. He was leaving the store when he saw the abductor trying to lift you into the trunk of his car. The man saved
