for now, he turned and stalked back to her. “Let’s start with your name.”
Chloe’s heart rate increased. “Chloe Conrad.”
His expression went from interested to intense, rage boiling up in his eyes. “What did you say?”
“Chloe. My name is Chloe.”
“I heard that part,” Hunter replied, standing. Would he leave her here? “Tell me your last name again.”
She gave him a look of resolve. Followed by a look of disappointment. “Conrad,” she said. “Yes, as in Conrad Oil. But I hope that won’t be a problem.”
His frown darkened, a vein throbbed along his jawline. “Conrad Oil. You’d better believe that’s a problem. Sorry, lady, I’m not for hire.”
Then he dropped a ten by his forgotten drink on the other table and stalked out to his waiting bike.
Chloe couldn’t believe he’d just up and walked away without letting her explain. Marching out to the parking lot, she caught up with him before he cranked the big black motorcycle. “Hey!”
He didn’t move. Just stood there with his back to her, his hands on his hips, his head down.
Chloe swallowed and forged on. “It’s about my sister, Laura. Somebody murdered her. And I’m pretty sure they’re after me now.”
* * *
Hunter stared down at Chloe Conrad, every vein in his body running hot with the sure knowledge that he needed to get on his bike, drive away and never look back.
But he couldn’t do that. He had to understand why she’d come here all the way from Oklahoma to find him of all people. Since they’d just been shot at, he could only assume she was telling the truth. “What makes you think your sister was murdered?”
Her eyes became burnished with relief, but her expression filled with caution. “A small-engine plane she was piloting went down a few months ago. The authorities ruled it as pilot error, but Laura was an experienced pilot. I know something isn’t right, but no one will believe me.”
Her words echoed over Hunter and he remembered the sensation of thinking the same thing when his older sister had died in a car crash over three years ago. Something had not been right about the accident. No one had believed him, either.
At least no one from the Conrad family had believed him.
But he’d proven them all wrong.
“I can’t help you,” he said, the agony of the past hitting him in the gut.
“No,” she said, grabbing his arm to keep him from trying to leave again. “Do not walk away from me. I hired a pilot to fly me down here even though I was afraid to get on a plane after what happened to my sister. I’ve been careful and I did my research. You’re supposed to be the best at what you do and I know you’re licensed in both Florida and Oklahoma, but if you treat all your clients the way you’re treating me, you must have a lot of time to sit around staring at the water. Why won’t you listen to me?”
He heard that. Surprised by the bit of fire that had just exploded inside this pretty package, Hunter glanced down at her soft, warm hand holding on to his wrist with a tight grip. But he still wasn’t convinced that he should be the one to help her. “Those people will come back. You need to get out of here.”
“I can’t leave now,” she said, her voice quiet, defeated. “If I get back in my rental car, they’ll find me and kill me and then there won’t be any justice for Laura. You might hate my father and my stepbrother, but Laura deserves more. A lot more.”
Hunter closed his eyes, willing her to go away. But he couldn’t send her out there to be slaughtered. When he heard a car turning into the drive, he glanced up and saw the same dark sedan. They were back.
He grabbed her and lifted her toward the bike. “Get on,” he said, swinging his leg over the seat. Seeing the panic and fear in her eyes, he reached out for her. “Now!”
She stared at the car for a split second and then hopped on the motorcycle.
“Hold on,” he said over his shoulder.
She wrapped her slender arms around his stomach, causing him to experience a strange, heavy discomfort followed by an acute awareness.
The dark car stopped, idling, the driver watching.
Hunter cranked the bike and took off behind the building and cut through on a side street. He had only minutes before the sedan would find them. So he zigzagged through the back streets and zoomed up and down alleys and driveways before he finally headed out to the one spot where he thought they’d be safe for a while.
He took her to the camp house.
Hunter didn’t want to talk about anything that had to do with the Conrads, but he was deep into this now. He parked the bike up underneath the fat pilings that held the house sturdy and high off the ground and protected it during storms. Out over the water, a golden sky shimmered against the waves like a lace curtain. The sun was setting off to the west, but it cast out muted rays that turned the horizon into a kaleidoscope of color.
“We should be okay here for a while,” he said as he helped Chloe off the motorcycle. She felt light in his arms, but the darkness in her eyes told of her exhaustion. “This place is secluded and off the beaten path.”
Hunter knew he needed to help her. It was that simple.
But oh, so complicated. It went against every cell in his body to help anyone connected to the powerful Conrad family. This would be a betrayal of his sister’s memory.
“Where are we?” she asked, glancing around at the fishing gear, four-wheelers and boats stored underneath the broad, square wooden house. She tossed her hair away and straightened her heavy leather jacket.
“We call it AWOL,” he said. “It’s a man cave I own with three of my friends. We hang out here on weekends and fish and...try not to talk much.”
That won him a quiet smile.
“I see the water,” she said, looking out past the palm trees and dense tropical foliage. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s the big bay,” he explained. Hunter liked the openness of the water. He could breathe here. Most days.
He liked Florida. Funny how he’d just realized that.
“How did you wind up here?” she asked, probably to stall the inevitable questions he needed to ask her.
But he answered her, needing the time to gauge her and study her. Maybe get a feel for who she really was.
“Friends,” he said.
He’d come down here a couple of years ago to visit Blain Kent after returning from one last tour of duty. Blain now worked for the Millbrook Police Department as a detective. They’d met in Oklahoma at a place similar to the Hog Wash when Blain was passing through years ago.
