Targeted For Murder

She sat for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts and figure out where to begin. He seemed to take her hesitation for reluctance, because he said, “Megan Spears from Iowa... I promise, you’re safe with me. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Okay, well for starters, my real name is...” Should she do it? Should she jump in with both feet? But Hadley needed to tell someone. “My name is Hadley Mason.”

He glanced at her intermittently, but then focused back on the hazardous road out. Her cabin hadn’t been too far from the nearest town and soon enough, they saw the lights flickering between the trees, dotting the forest like stars in the sky.

Gideon, Oregon—a quiet, remote historical town smack in the middle of the Wild Rogue Wilderness.

Cooper urged the old Jeep into the shadows behind a two-story home near the center of the tiny town. He turned off the ignition, then shifted in the seat to give her his full attention.

Oh, boy.

“What are you doing? Why are we...parked in the shadows?”

“This is the back of my business. The house is both storefront and home.” He gestured to the second story. “That’s the apartment, should you choose to stay. I’m parked in the shadows so nobody will see or bother us. I didn’t want to assume, though, that you had agreed to stay. I’m still waiting to hear your story.”

“Yeah, and after you hear it I’m waiting to have that invitation withdrawn.”

“Not likely.”

Hadley drew in a breath and spilled everything that had happened this morning. She shared about the passport but stopped just short of telling him about all the cash in her backpack. Money changed people. And if he chose to steal from her, what recourse did she have? He knew she didn’t want to go to the police.

The events of her day seemed like a lifetime ago but it hadn’t been twelve hours. The words made her sound crazy.

“And now, here I am. With you. But you don’t have to be involved. You can let me walk away.”

Hadley waited for him to respond.

But Cooper Wilde just stared at her.

Right. Why had she hoped he wouldn’t think she was as crazy as she sounded? Oh, yeah, because he’d fought with her assassin. He had some evidence she spoke the truth.

“Are you going to say anything?”

He blew out a long pent-up breath he’d obviously held through her entire story.

* * *

Cooper scraped a hand over his face. Again. At the look on her face, he realized his action hadn’t exactly conveyed confidence. He was doing a poor job of reassuring her. She’d run if he didn’t respond right away and with the correct answer. But he had no idea what to say. How to respond.

That was one wild story.

So he just said, “Give me a second to think. That was...a lot.”

Still, he knew she had to be telling the truth.

“You don’t believe me.”

“I do, actually.” And wished he didn’t. “Remember, I fought with the guy trying to kill you.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to believe the rest of the story.”

“No, but it sounds right. He wasn’t the typical thug one would run into around here.” Or anywhere else. Nor was he a backwoods drug runner. Clearly she was involved in something high level. The only thing that wasn’t certain was whether she was lying about being an innocent victim—but his gut told him she was telling the truth.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye.” She opened her door and stepped out.

“Wait a minute.” Cooper jumped out and ran around the vehicle. Stepping in her path, he held out his hands like he tried to calm a skittish mare. “Where are you going to go? You can’t run from this on your own.”

“What do you suggest I do? Wait for the sheriff? This is above his pay grade.” Hadley started pacing, the dim light from his apartment above lighting her path. “I didn’t ask for any of this.” She stopped and stared at him. “And neither did you.”

Her curly, strawberry-blond hair askew, weary didn’t begin to describe her. She appeared fragile and yet he’d seen her combat skills firsthand. Knew she was physically strong. Believed there had to be something strong inside, too, that had kept her alive. She’d said her father had taught her the skills. He must have suspected this day might come. What had he done that resulted in this happening to his daughter?

“I’m sorry about your father,” he said. “He obviously loved you. Wanted you to be safe.”

She hung her head. “Thanks.”

“What do you do for living, Hadley?”

“Why does that matter?”

“I’m forming a plan. Just work with me.”

“I’m an artist—a painter. I have a following on Etsy that pays the bills. I’m slowly building my career with exhibitions in small galleries and museums and a few commissioned pieces. But this coming Friday I have an exhibit that will propel me onto the national scene. I’m making my big debut, you could say. Or I was, until all this happened.”

An artist? He hadn’t expected that. The news left him unsettled. Disturbed.

Cooper squeezed his eyes closed, remembering. His brother Jeremy had been an artist before he committed suicide. Cooper caught himself. Now wasn’t the time to relive the horror or wallow in the guilt. He focused back on Hadley.

Were those tears shimmering in her eyes? She blinked them away. Back at the cabin, before daylight had faded, he’d noticed the greens and golds swirling in her irises.

Cooper had to stay on task.

If only something about Hadley and her situation didn’t tug at his heart, tipping it a little bit in her favor. He gently pushed the feeling back. He was nowhere near ready to let himself care about someone. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t help a person in trouble, especially this kind of inescapable deadly trouble.

He was all over making sure she stayed safe. Who was Cooper Wilde if he couldn’t protect someone in her position? His business, Wilderness, Inc., would mean nothing.

“I was thinking you could stay in the apartment. Work in the back office, if you want. Was hoping you’d say you were a bookkeeper.” He tossed her an apologetic shrug. “That would keep you safe and out of sight until we can form a plan.”

Find the source of this contract and end it for good.

“You’d want me to stay long enough to work here? That’s crazy. Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said? I can’t stick around here when someone’s after me. What if something happens to you because of me? I can’t be responsible.”

“Let me worry about myself.” Cooper was all for justice. Unfortunately he wasn’t sure Hadley was going to get it the usual way. There was no one else he could trust with her safety, not even the authorities.

He thought back to her story about the official-looking man who burst through the door of her apartment, weapon drawn, before the police even arrived. Then how she’d seen him speaking with the police when she left, confirming to Hadley the man worked in some official capacity. But the fact that he’d mumbled to himself about taking care of loose ends raised the hairs on Cooper’s neck.

No wonder she was scared to trust anyone, even the police. And if the CIA was involved, all bets were off.

She watched him now, waiting on him to lead on if he meant his invitation. The night closed in around them, and Hadley shivered. What kind of guy was he to keep her out here waiting? And what kind of guy was he if he didn’t use every resource he had to help her?