Targeted For Murder

“I will tell him, but not until I know you’re safe.” What are you getting yourself into, Cooper Wilde?

But he knew the sheriff would understand after he told him everything. This woman could be dead by the morning if he didn’t find a way to help her tonight.

“I’m sorry, but my fa— I can’t trust anyone. Not even the police.”

“You’re not from here, so there’s no reason to believe the sheriff is connected to any of the people after you, right?”

“No, but he might tell other people. I don’t want any information about me to get out.”

“He won’t—not if I ask him not to.”

She looked skeptical. “How well do you know this sheriff?”

“I’ve known him for years.”

“And you trust him?”

Did he? But Cooper hesitated too long and she huffed her way past him and climbed into her old clunker.

Helping someone survive had never been this grueling.

FOUR (#ulink_6ef8c3c8-c817-5100-8392-a25dd87fa770)

Hadley jammed the key in the ignition.

Cooper didn’t follow her. He’d let her go. For that, she was grateful. So why did disappointment swirl around inside?

She couldn’t have another death on her conscience. She’d have to keep her distance from everyone until this was over. If it ever was.

Except how could she really do this all on her own?

She needed someone to help, but it was too risky to trust anyone, on all fronts.

The engine turned over once. Twice. Then died. She tried again. Good thing she wasn’t running from an assassin at this moment. Why had she bought such an old vehicle? With the cash in her bag, she could have bought something new and sturdy.

She was aware of Cooper watching her in the waning light of day, hands on his hips. Why didn’t he just go away? He had no idea. No. Idea. What he’d be getting into if he stayed.

She squeezed the steering wheel, frustration building in her chest. She couldn’t accept his offer of help.

Could she?

Exhaustion overwhelmed her. She eyed the cabin with longing—but there was no way she could spend the night there.

How had that man found her? He’d said someone else would come after her. Even if she ran, would they find her next hiding place just as easily? If she didn’t figure out this most basic problem of how to cover her tracks—and soon—she was dead.

Cooper knocked on the window.

She jumped. Too tired to stay alert, she hadn’t realized he’d approached the Jeep. Her inattention could have been deadly.

He stared down at her, waiting. The vehicle was so old, she had to physically roll down the window. It squeaked with each crank of the handle.

He folded his arms against the window frame and leaned in, too close for comfort. An image of him fighting the assassin—like some fine-tuned war machine—accosted her. Something about him, something feral in his presence, made her insides hum. Would it be so wrong to rely on him a little? She didn’t have to trust him with everything...well, just her life.

Trust no one.

But her father hadn’t met Cooper Wilde when he’d said the words. Could he have known she’d be tracked into the heart of the wilderness? He’d given her no instructions on how, exactly, to stay hidden. All she had in her toolbox were implements to help her disappear.

And now, this one guy...

In a way, Cooper was the missing piece in her backpack. He was a weapon. And from what she’d seen so far, he appeared to be the most capable person she’d ever met.

“You’re risking your life by sticking around.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She averted her gaze. “Don’t you get it?”

When she looked back at him, he proffered that crazy grin. He had some charm about him, but she didn’t think that was his intention. He came across as more of a warrior.

“Okay, if you’re going to stick around—” was she really saying this? “—then you should know what you’re getting into.”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

Hadley climbed out. Cooper slid into the driver’s seat.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s get out of here and you can tell me while I drive.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Anywhere would be safer than this cabin.”

Hadley ran around and climbed into the passenger seat. “Can you get it started?”

He turned the key. Kept trying until the engine turned over. Then smiled at her. “I have the right touch.”

“You just tried longer than I did, that’s all.”

“Like I said. The right touch.”

Shifting into gear, he steered the Jeep onto what barely counted as a road. Hadley felt like she was handing her life over to a complete stranger. She held on to the handgrip, feeling the strain of the geriatric vehicle as it bumped and jolted over the potholes and through the darkening forest.

“I’m listening.”

“What?”

“You were going to tell me what I’m getting into.”