She waved a hand without looking back as she crossed the fieldstone walkway with brisk steps and got into her red Acura RDX sport utility. She called out, “No time. Dohn wannah be late.”
Grabbing the car door before she closed it, he tried again to find out what was going on. “When will you be home?”
She gripped the steering wheel with one hand and turned to him with an unreadable expression. Her voice softened. “If I thought yah asked because yah wanted to spend some quality time vistin’, I’d tell yah. Since we both know that ain’t thah case, I’m leavin’.” She tugged on the door, and he let go.
He could have held it open but would never risk injuring her. She would yank until he gave in, or she’d snap the bones in her wrist. Ornery. So stinking ornery.
The driver’s window rolled down before she finished backing around. “Yah dohn get tah show up once a millenneeah and staht askin’ questions.”
“I was here eleven months ago.” Yes, he sounded defensive.
Her eyes twinkled with some secret satisfaction. She rolled the window up and drove out to hang a left onto the main road running through town. Not a town.
Clercville, originally Clerc Cove, boasted four buildings and a bakery in a home. The entire metropolitan area spread over less than a mile.
Oh, and a marina once again.
He cupped his neck, irritated at himself. He should have taken a different approach. He would not fumble with this relationship the way he had others. He may not want to stay here, but he wanted Angie safe and happy. At thirty years old, he was no better communicating with a woman than he’d been at half that age.
He’d saved a woman from being tortured who wouldn’t even share her name. For the millionth time, he hoped the hot blonde had made it out safely. He didn’t want to believe they were on opposite sides of the law or that she had anything to do with Esteban’s death.
He'd like to know how she’d ended up in that basement and any light she could shed on W.
Would the FALCA team go back out to hunt for W without him?
To be honest, if Sam had to keep his head down and wait for a week to return, he wanted them to go. Finding a terrorist before W’s favorite party day this upcoming Saturday was paramount to all else.
Hairs tingled across his neck.
The hinky feeling of being watched shook him out of his moment of internal whining.
Even in a noncombat situation, he naturally watched his surroundings. As he slowly turned, he covertly took in every direction. Nothing.
No one lived within a quarter mile of this place because Angie owned sixty acres. She had guests on occasion but spent most of her time here alone.
So why build this big of an inn and not advertise?
That just upped his worry about where she was headed. Had she gone online to find someone for company?
If Sam had arrived under his own power, he’d have a vehicle here to follow her in.
After circling the two-story inn as if he searched for more trim damage but was instead surveilling the area, he noticed nothing unusual. Maybe the odd feeling came from wishful thinking someone had shown up and planned to surprise him with news he could go back to work.
Yeah, he wouldn’t bet an empty beer can on that possibility.
Might as well get the carpentry work done.
Then he could check out the marina. What would a marina here know about his boat?
He climbed the ladder and still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Nitro had left him a phone.
Sam knew not to call in. For one week, this phone worked one way. Nitro would contact Sam when he was ready.
But Sam would like to know if Nitro had set up a camera on Angie’s place. That would explain the hinky feeling of eyes on his back. Knowing Nitro, he had eyes on Sam to save Sam from making one more mistake.
Good luck. Sam had been determined to impress Nitro and Logan on this last mission. How’d that work out for him? Not so well.
By the time he finished the woodwork and showered, then hiked through a shortcut in the woods to the marina, late afternoon light barely broke through the leaves.
