Captivating Witness

“They left town.”

“What?”

“Two of them moved away. Only Santa Claus stayed.”

“Well. Santa Claus does have a certain amount of obligation.” He patted her foot and smiled. “All done.”

She sighed and leaned back. “So what next?”

“After tonight, you mean?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re feeling up to it tomorrow, you do exactly what you were planning on doing. Go to work. Then go to the Garibaldi Gala.”

“Really?”

“It’s the least suspicious thing to do.”

“I don’t know if I can do it. I’m scared.”

“Rightly so. But the alternative will draw more attention than you want. You can probably get away with lying low tonight, but after that...anything out of the ordinary is going to seem like you’re hiding.”

“Because I want to be hiding.”

“You could leave town.”

“But my dad...”

“So the Gala it is.”

Reggie was quiet for a long moment before sitting up abruptly, a hopeful look on her pretty face. “You could come with me.”

Brayden frowned. “I don’t think I’m on the guest list.”

“The invite was for a plus-one.”

He started to protest, then realized that the idea actually had appeal. On multiple levels. He could stick close to Reggie. He might even get a chance to speak to Garibaldi directly—something he’d been trying to do for a week without success.

He nodded. “All right.”

Relief filled her face. “Do you have a suit?”

“I do. And I’m even willing to put it on. But first. The phone call to your friend. I’ll go grab my cell from outside.”

He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze as he pushed to his feet, and before he could stop himself, he bent down to tuck her hair behind her ear. For a second, she looked startled. Then she smiled up at him. A small, appreciative look that carried up to her eyes, and warmed him from the inside.

“Thank you, Brayden,” she said. “Again.”

“No problem.”

He slipped out of the cabin, his mind working to process what she’d told him about Garibaldi and the men who opposed his takeover of Whispering Woods. If all three had left town under the described circumstances, it would’ve raised a lot of questions for him. As it stood now, the circumstances were still suspicious enough that he wanted to talk to the one who’d stayed behind.

Santa Claus.

At least the idea of interviewing Saint Nick provided some comic relief. All he had to do was ask the pretty waitress for an in.

Brayden snagged his phone from the ground, then made his way back inside, the request on his lips. “Reggie, do you think you could—”

He stopped immediately when he spotted her. She’d tucked her legs up onto the couch and pulled her arms in to her body. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was slow and steady.

“Reggie?” he called softly.

She didn’t stir.

For a second, he contemplated waking her. Even though he was sure she didn’t have a concussion, there was no such thing as being too careful, and there was the phone call he’d asked her to make. He moved toward her. Then stilled again as she let out a little sigh. She was far too peaceful to disturb, and the call could wait and be altered to suit their needs. No one would be looking for her here.

The couch, though, was a cringeworthy place for a solid rest.

Brayden crossed the room, then bent to carefully scoop her up. She mumbled something incoherent, pressed her head against his chest, then settled in like she belonged there.

With his own sigh and a strange tightness in his chest, he carried her from the living room to the bedroom, where he tucked her soundly sleeping form into his own bed. When he was satisfied that she was comfortable, he moved to leave the room. He found that he couldn’t quite do it. So—chalking it up to a need to ensure Reggie’s safety—Brayden settled into the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and closed his own eyes.

Chapter 5 (#u2204ce21-736c-5b15-9194-ffac0c5ac214)

Reggie woke with a start, her heart hammering hard against her rib cage. It was utterly dark, and she was in a strange bed. Pushing up in a panic, she whipped her gaze around the room. Nothing was familiar. But when her gaze landed on the hulking form lying next to her, her memory finally did its job and reminded her of the night’s frightening ordeal.

Brayden.

The gunshot.

Chuck.

The run through the forest.

More Brayden. And—

Wait.

What was the big man doing in the bed beside her?

She took a steadying breath and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder lightly. Too lightly. He didn’t move.

“Brayden?”

She waited. Still nothing. She tried a combo instead. Squeezing his elbow and speaking a little louder.

“Brayden.”