for the path that led down to the beach. He made a left turn, hugging the shoreline as he scuffed along the sandy path toward Nina’s B and B. Moonstones perched on a rocky beach on the far edge of town, along with a few other beach houses. Nina must’ve really wanted to get away from it all.
He traipsed through the sand and clambered over some rocks to get a good view of the building before approaching it.
A tangled garden spilled over the ramshackle fence that ringed the property. One blue shutter hung by a broken hinge, revealing a crack in the window. This didn’t look like a prime spot for someone expecting a baby.
But Coburn had ordered him to get close to the subject, and this ramshackle B and B offered the perfect opportunity. He wouldn’t be his grandfather’s disciple if he didn’t know his way around a hammer and nail—even though Dad had disapproved.
He shuffled through the dry sand and crossed the road to the B and B. The battered wooden gate sagged and he pushed through to the garden in the front. Using the rusty hook, he latched the gate behind him.
This place wouldn’t provide much security if someone wanted to get to Nina. He had to make sure that didn’t happen.
He veered off the overgrown walkway to the front of the B and B, slogging through the knee-high weeds, and cut a path to the corner of the building. He peered around it, taking in a deck with patio furniture stacked in the corner and a fire pit crisscrossed with charred logs.
Squinting, he could almost envision a circle of guests around a roaring fire, toasting marshmallows as the waves lapped at the dock where the boats gently bobbed. Almost.
He hooked his thumb in the front pocket of his jeans and started to turn back...but the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being readied for use stopped him in his tracks.
His adrenaline pulsed for two beats, as his finger twitched for his weapon. Then he took a deep breath. If one of his enemies had a gun on him, he’d already be dead.
A woman’s voice barked out an order. “Put your hands in the air and turn around...slowly.”
He complied and added a smile to his face for good measure.
Nina Moore held him at bay with an old shotgun that looked as if it had seen its best days during the Civil War. Her dark ponytail hung over one shoulder and she widened her stance as she leveled the barrel of the shotgun right between his eyes.
Crazy pregnant lady.
“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?”
“My name’s Jase Buckley and I heard you needed some help fixing up this place.”
Her eyes narrowed. He couldn’t quite catch their color from here, but they glittered dangerously.
“Who told you that?”
“Maisie—the woman at my motel.” He’d led Maisie on, but she would at least verify that they’d had a conversation about how the owner of Moonstones might need help repairing the place. “I’m new on the island. I came here to do some writing, but I also need to earn some cash.”
“Maisie, huh?” The gun slipped a little and she tapped the toe of her sneaker on the sandy ground. “I can check out your story.”
“Go right ahead.” He waved his hands in the air. “Can I put my arms down now?”
She loosened her grip on the shotgun and pinned it against her side. “I could use some help around here, but I fully intend to check you out.”
“I thought Break Island was one of those friendly, small-town places.” He cocked his head. “Didn’t realize you could get shot going up to someone’s front door.”
“You didn’t go up to my front door.” She tipped her chin toward him. “You came around here to the side.”
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I was admiring the deck and the fire pit, or at least admiring what it could be.”
She ran her tongue along her lower lip, her shoulders still rigid. “Yeah, I plan to fix that up...eventually.”
He hadn’t expected Nina to be on edge, unless she always greeted strangers with a shotgun. Had someone attempted to contact her already? What did she know about her ex-fiancé’s disappearance?
“I can help you with that.” He cleared his throat as his gaze swept across her lean frame, no baby bump in sight. He’d have to pretend he knew nothing of her pregnancy. “I’ll be on the island for a while, and I need some gainful employment.”
“What do you write?”
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he kicked at a rock on the crumbling path. “I’m a former marine, did a few tours in Afghanistan. Thought I’d write what I know, a fictional account.”
Her eyes widened and her fingers curled around the butt of the shotgun. “Y-you’re military?”
“Retired.” He thought it best to stick as close to the truth as possible, but his military background bothered her—must be memories of her ex-fiancé, Simon Skinner. She had ended it with Skinner before he disappeared. Maybe they’d had a bad breakup.
With his hands still stuffed in his pockets, he lifted his shoulders to his ears. “Just thought I had an interesting story to tell, but the book’s not a bestseller yet. Hell, the book isn’t even written yet. That’s why I need to make some money while I figure out if this story will write itself.”
“I do have a soft spot for military men.” She blinked and rested one hand on her stomach. “My...my stepfather was in the navy.”
And her ex-fiancé was a navy SEAL before joining Tempest as an agent...and winding up dead.
“I hope you’ll give this vet a chance.” He swept his arm across her property. “I can help you out here.”
She puffed a breath of air from between her lips as if she’d been holding it. “Maybe. Give me a day or two to check you out, and a couple of references wouldn’t hurt. Can’t pay you much more than minimum wage.”
“I’ll get right on the references. Thanks.” He pointed to the purse she’d dropped on the ground next to her before leveling the gun at his head. “Were you going out?”
“I’m going across the bay to the mainland to pick up some supplies.”
“Can I help you?”
“No.” She picked up the gun in her hands again and made a move toward the house.
She hadn’t been joking about looking into his background first. A woman in her condition should be cautious and he was glad Nina was, unlike some women he knew, but she’d obviously brought her big-city paranoia to the small town.
As she retreated to the house, he scuffed through the sand toward the front gate and left it open behind him. He clambered on top of a pile of rocks and faced
