settled. She had learned long ago how to be extremely focused. In less than a week all her furniture was in place right down to throws over couches and pictures on the walls, thanks to a lot of help from Devon and her fiancé, Spencer. The owner’s furnishings were now in storage, packed up and taken away on the same truck that brought hers. She had picked out a couple of walls she wanted to paint and purchased the supplies. Despite the challenge painting with her right arm presented, she was determined to get it done. She could handle most of the trim if it was shoulder level or lower, but reaching the roller above her head would be a job for her left arm. She was getting really good with that left arm! She’d try using her right arm, though—it was great therapy. She was very dedicated to her exercises.
This place was going to be different—she was going to make this home. Her town house in Virginia was where she stayed. Although she had her own things—furniture and accessories—in all the years she was there she had only rented the place. She traveled, went undercover, visited her brother and his family on weekends and holidays. Her town house had been temporary for years and she was away as much as she was there. But this—the house with the view—she was going to make it hers. It was going to be her refuge for the year. She had earned it.
It was Saturday afternoon and the sun was shining for a change. There was one person in Thunder Point she knew and hadn’t yet seen. Someone she really owed. And it looked like a perfect day for a jog through town and across the beach.
As she ran, her mind wandered back to that last assignment. She had gotten almost all of the women and children out of the commune compound through a break in the fence, but her success had been completely foiled when Jacob figured her out. He beat her and confined her, tying her to a chair in his house. She was further foiled when Jacob somehow located and abducted Devon’s three-year-old daughter, Mercy, bringing her back to the camp. Later, when it was all over, the FBI learned he had simply done a computer search for Devon’s address.
At the time, Laine had been his prisoner. So had Mercy. It had been Jacob’s plan to escape with his daughter and whatever money and documents he could gather together. And then he planned to burn the place to the ground, leaving any others, like Laine, behind. He torched the warehouse holding the marijuana plants knowing the fire could spread into a full-on wildfire that would threaten the whole valley—something he no doubt hoped would occupy law enforcement long enough for his escape.
Laine had managed to free herself and grab Mercy, but in the process she’d been shot in the shoulder. By the time help arrived in the form of Rawley, Spencer, Cooper and Devon, she was nearly unconscious from blood loss—her brachial artery had been nicked.
Of course Laine had known Devon and Mercy from her time in the camp but she had no idea who these men who saved her might be. She found out later—it was Rawley Goode, a Vietnam vet in his sixties, who put together a rescue plan in mere minutes. Laine got the details after she was conscious and recovered enough to take it all in.
She jogged across the beach. By the time she got to Cooper’s, she was panting pretty hard. She found the proprietor sitting on the deck in the sun, though he wore a jacket. He had his laptop open and was studying something closely.
“Hey, there,” she said. “How’s the house coming?”
He looked up and smiled at her. “About time you checked out my place. House is coming along ahead of schedule, thank God. Sarah’s had about enough of living in one room.”
“When’s the baby due?” she asked.
“July. We should be in the house by June at the latest.”
“That’s awesome, Cooper.”
“How about your place?” he asked.
“It’s looking good. My stuff came right behind me and the movers took the owner’s furniture to the storage facility. I’m pretty settled already. Just a matter of putting a few more things away.”
“I heard you have a good view.”
“Oh, yes. A big deck and a big kitchen and a couple of fireplaces. If I’m not happy every day, I can’t blame the real estate. Hey, any chance Rawley is around?”
“Last time I noticed he was carrying in supplies. He should be in the kitchen.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you on the way out.”
She went through the bar and into the kitchen. Rawley was crouched, rearranging some things in a cupboard. “Hey, stranger,” she said.
He stood and turned toward her. He wore worn jeans, boots, a heavy shirt over a T-shirt and a red cap. She knew he was in his early sixties but because he was skinny and his face was deeply lined, he looked a little older. She caught the light in his pale blue eyes as he recognized her. Only one corner of his mouth lifted. He nodded toward her right arm. “How’s the wing?” he asked.
“Coming along,” she said, automatically rotating her shoulder. “I’m in good shape now.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Don’t you have spy work to do?”
She smiled, looked down, shook her head. “I’m on leave,” she said. “I need more time before I—” She cleared her throat. “I’m not a spy. I...” He smiled at her and put his thumb in the front pocket of his jeans, leaning on his left leg. “Well, not exactly. I’m an investigator. And I think we should downplay that role a little bit.”
“Whatever you want, chickadee,” he said. “Good work,” he added.
“You saved my life.”
“Nah. Not really. I got in that camp to find Mercy. I think it was Spencer saved your life, jogging down some back road, carrying you with his fist shoved against your shoulder on account a’ the bleeding. Yeah, he’s the one I’d say saved you. I’m just an old vet. But I got attached to that little girl and I wasn’t about to let some lunatic take her away from her mother.”
“Some old vet,” she repeated. “A Green Beret with two Purple Hearts, a Bronze Star and a Silver Star....”
“Window dressing,” he said with a shrug. “It’s the by-product of staying alive.”
“You’re one of the most decorated men I know.”
“It was a bad time, back then, but we all did our best,” he said. “And there’s a rumor you got yourself a little window dressing, too.”
She gave a nod. “I’ve been notified. I was recommended for an award. You know these things take time.”
He grinned at her. “Notified of what kind of award, exactly?”
“FBI commendation. It’s very big in my crowd. But that’s another thing I’ll try to keep to myself. I’d appreciate it if you’d do that, too.”
“No problem, chickadee. I was never one for struttin’ so I get it.”
“I wanted to say thank you,” she said. “I know you weren’t alone, but I read all the transcripts and everyone agrees, you put a plan together to get Mercy out, along with anyone else stuck in that camp. Will you come to my house for dinner? So I can thank you with food? I love to cook.”
“Might could,” he said. “Cloudy and wet weather this time of year, Cooper can manage. But
