“I wish Hannah would believe me as easily. As far as I know, Gage is the only person who shared anything personal with her, and that’s because he had to.”

  “She’s only trying to help. If you told her about Alison, Hannah would likely stop asking you to share.”

  “I don’t want her to know,” he ground out between his teeth.

  “Why?”

  He cast her an irritated look before snapping his gaze back to the road. “You mean other than it makes me look like a complete jerk?”

  “We’ve been over that. The accident wasn’t your fault.”

  “I’m not talking about the accident. I mean the way I bailed on you when you needed me.”

  She leaned closer, hoping he would look at her. When he didn’t, she said, “You came back, Jackson. That’s all that matters.”

  “Not to me.” He freed his hand and planted it on the steering wheel. The fingers on both hands turned white from his tense grip. “It’s like I don’t even know that guy who left, you know? Like—what was I thinking?”

  She couldn’t explain the past, and she was tired of trying. “Maybe it was supposed to happen that way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when I was talking to Hannah she said something I can’t forget. She said God always gets things right, and when we worry or question Him, it’s like we think He’s gotten it wrong.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Well, didn’t He?”

  “I’ve thought for years that He did, but now I think what Hannah says is more likely. If we believe God got that wrong, then what else might He have gotten wrong? Us dating? Me getting pregnant? Our very lives? We thank Him for the good things and blame Him for the bad. God is consistent, so we’re just tormenting ourselves by fluctuating as circumstances change.”

  “Maybe,” he sounded unconvinced.

  “One thing I do know,” she said before he completely shut down. “I questioned God and was upset with Him over what happened, but through it all He was there. Waiting for me to see His plan for my life and come back to Him.”

  “And you can do that now?” he sounded so skeptical.

  “I’m not sure, but I know I’m going to try.”

  “Just like that? Hannah says something to you, and you can forget about losing Alison?”

  “Forget? No way! You just saw that I can’t. I don’t want to forget her. Ever. But hoping for a future that isn’t quite as sad and lonely as my life is now? Yeah. I want to consider that.”

  He didn’t respond and kept his focus on the road.

  She wouldn’t keep probing. It did no good. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “No, wait.” He looked at her then, his eyes wounded. “I’m glad you did. It’s…it’s not just God that I’m mad at. It’s me. I might be able to get to a place where I can let go of my anger at God. But I honestly don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for hurting you like that.”

  Jackson pulled into the marina parking lot and couldn’t quit thinking about Maggie’s words. He wanted hope in his life again. He always had, but he also knew he didn’t deserve to have it. He was glad Maggie was trying for it, though. She deserved everything wonderful, and if she was looking to the future, maybe she could get married and have a child someday. Just not with him.

  He saw her then in his mind. With another man. In a cute nursery, holding that man’s baby, Maggie’s eyes filled with joy. Pain stabbed through his body, and he shoved the gearshift into park. He had to get out of this truck and move before he drove himself crazy.

  He snapped his gun holster onto his belt and shrugged into a button-down shirt that would cover the telltale bulge of his weapon. No way he was going to freak people out with the sight of it. Especially not Vetter.

  He faced Maggie. “Wait here, and I’ll take a look around first.”

  She raised fear-filled eyes to his. “Sounds like you’re worried this Vetter guy is going to try something.”

  “It’s always a possibility.”

  “So you think he killed Scott?”

  “Not necessarily, but if he’s involved in selling illegal guns, I could see him panicking when we approach.”

  “Good point. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Sit tight.” Jackson wished he could offer her more comfort, but he was plain out of comfort for the day and knew it would come across as insincere.

  He pushed out of the truck and scanned the area. In the distance, he spied a long dock with boats moored along both sides. The boats on the far end under aluminum awnings were huge and looked to be very expensive. Even if Jackson didn’t know that Vetter’s slip number was seven, he would’ve doubted that the guy lived on one of the bigger boats at the far end.

  Jackson scanned the entire property. Several workers were painting the marina office exterior, and two men were heading down the dock with poles and nets over their shoulders. A perfectly normal day at the marina. At least Jackson hoped it turned out to be a normal day other than asking Vetter a few questions.

  He strode around the truck and opened the door. “I didn’t see anything unusual, but stay close to me, okay? And if I give you a direction, follow it without question.”

  He stood back so she could exit the vehicle. He rested his hand on his gun as he started for the marina. Maggie walked next to him. He glanced at her, enjoying the soft way her hair blew in the breeze. Despite the reason for being with her, he had to admit he’d been happier the last few days with her than he’d been in the six years without her.

  Birds soared over the glistening water looking so carefree it made Jackson’s gut hurt. He would like to feel that way. To revel in life again. To have that hope that Maggie talked about. But facts were facts. If he hadn’t managed to find it in six years, he wasn’t likely going to, and it was about time he accepted that.

  They stepped onto the dock, and the wooden slats bounced underfoot. He searched ahead for slip number seven and found it on the left side. He pegged the speedboat at about a fifty-footer. An upper deck held the pilot’s seat and controls and a lower deck had windows running the front half of the vessel. The boat was bigger than Jackson thought it might be, but it looked like an older model so maybe that’s how Vetter could afford to rent it.

  They approached, and a guy at the next-door slip looked up from washing his boat deck with a sudsy mop. Keeping his focus on them, he set aside the mop and stepped down from his boat with the pail in hand. He paused for a second on the dock. Jackson removed his hand from his gun so he didn’t draw attention to it and nodded a greeting. The man seemed like he wanted to say something. Ask a question or two, but he passed them by and moved on down the dock.

  “Do you think he knows Vetter?” Maggie asked.

  “Maybe. We can talk to him after we question Vetter.” Jackson steered Maggie toward a set of metal stairs leading up to Vetter’s rental boat.

  She grabbed the handrail and started up. Jackson trailed her, and at the cockpit door, she stepped to the side. He saw no sign of life so he knocked on the door.

  No one answered.

  “Hello,” Jackson called out and knocked again. He stood there. Counting. Hit two minutes. “Looks like he’s not here.”

  He tried the door knob. It turned in his hand. “Maybe he’s here, and he’s not answering.”

  He pounded hard on the metal door. He glanced down the dock. Saw the neighbor reach the marina office and look back. Maybe he was going to report them. Maybe he was just getting something or returning that pail, though Jackson thought it odd that the guy wouldn’t have his own pail onboard. Jackson checked the other direction. There was no movement save the wind gently whispering over them and blowing little flags on a boat down the way.

  A very picturesque scene, and Jackson waited for someone to come yell at them for making so much noise on this perfectly quiet day.

  Getting antsy, he stepped to the side and peered into the window. The upper deck was basically an indoor living area with a big plush captain’s chair sitting in front of a large console and a wide windshield above. He couldn’t see anyone moving nor anyone sitting on the small sofa or plush chairs.

  He turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  Maggie grabbed his arm. “You’re not going in there, are you?”

  “Not yet.” He poked his head in and looked around. As he’d seen through the window, no one was up top. Didn’t mean Vetter wasn’t down below.

  “Vetter,” he yelled. “I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

  No answer.

  “Maybe we should go,” Maggie said.

  “Not until I’m sure he’s not avoiding us and really isn’t here.” Jackson cupped his hands around his mouth. “Vetter come up here. I need to talk to you.”

  No sound except the water lapping against the boat.

  Jackson took Maggie’s hand. “C’mon. Let’s see if he’s below deck.”

  “We shouldn’t.”

  He took a step and froze. He looked down. His ankle rested against a wire. He’d tripped it, but nothing happened. He glanced to the side. Saw the device. A timer. Bright red letters counting down from one minute.

  He spun. “Run.”

  “What?” Maggie asked.

  “Run now. As fast as you can to the end of the dock.”

  “But I—”

  “Now!” He grabbed her hand and fled down the stairs. “This boat is going to blow in less than sixty seconds! Move!”

  14

  “Blow up?” Maggie asked, her mind trying to grasp Jackson’s statement.

  “Hurry!” Jackson took off running on the dock, her hand still in his. He led them. Pulling. Urging her faster. They had a long way to go, and she was falling behind.

  Jackson tugged her hand. “Faster!”

  She tried to pick up speed, but she was moving as fast as she could. She didn’t want to slow him down. She released his hand.

  He came to a stop. Shot her a look. Lifted her into his arms. Took off.

  “No! I’m slowing you down. Save yourself.” Even as she said it, she knew he wouldn’t listen.

  He raced forward, and she clutched tightly to his neck.

  Thirty feet. Twenty. Ten.

  “We’re almost out of time,” he declared, though she had no idea how he knew that.

  He kicked up his speed, surprising her.

  The boat exploded. A boom blared through the quiet. A concussion of air slammed into them. Jackson dove for the grass. Landed on his shoulder. Rolled and covered her. Debris rained down on them.

  Her heart raced, and she dragged in as much air as she could. She waited to feel pain, but none came. She was safe. She’d survived. Covered by this resilient man who was taking the brunt of the damage. He was such an amazing man. Her protector. Her hero. He always had been. Always would be if she needed him.

  The thought hit her hard. They had a connection. A deep one.

  Jackson lifted his head and frantically searched her face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you when we landed?”

  “No. I’m fine. Thanks to you again.”

  He frowned. “No thanks to me. I triggered the tripwire.”

  She couldn’t let him take the blame for this. “You had no reason to think Vetter would have a bomb. And after you triggered it, you recognized what happened and got us out of there.”

  “If I’d lost you. I…” His voice broke, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his gaze locked on hers like a death grip.

  She reached up and touched his cheek. Smiled her reassurance when her heart was still pounding with fear, but she wasn’t going to let him see that.

  “I need to call the sheriff and the team.” He pushed to his feet and offered his hand to help her up.

  She shook her head. “I think I’d better sit here for a while. My legs are kind of wobbly.”

  “Of course,” he said, his frown deepening. “I should have thought of that.”

  She stared up at him. “Stop setting such impossible standards for yourself, Jackson. You’re a man, not Superman. You can only do as much as you can do.”

  “But I…” He shoved a hand in his hair and shook his head. “Let me get the team out here.”

  Digging out his phone, he stepped away and lifted it to his ear. He stood there strong. Tall. Broad shouldered. A man’s man. Tough, and yet he was so vulnerable inside. She never knew what drove him to fiercely protect others with no leeway for mistakes. She would say it was due to the loss of Alison, but he was that way before they’d lost her.

  Maybe not this intensely fierce, but he was driven to protect others. It was his reason for not wanting to leave the Berets. He wasn’t being selfish when he returned to his team, he was thinking of others.

  Not her. Not their baby. He had no reason to fear for them, but the larger population of the world needed protection from terrorism and despotic leaders.

  He came back and squatted beside her. He searched her face, his expression tender and concerned. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. And you? Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “Did you get ahold of Gage?”

  “He asked me to tell you he was sorry you got caught up in this mess today.”

  At first Maggie was intimidated by Gage, but she was beginning to think he possessed the same wonderful heart for service as the rest of the team. “What happens next?”

  “Medics are on the way, and I want them to check you out.”

  “But I’m fine.”

  “Shock can cover up injuries.”

  “Really, I might be shocked, but I know I’m fine.”

  “Would you humor me and let them check you out?”

  She met his gaze. “If you do the same thing.”

  “Me? No. I can tell if I’m injured, and I’m not.”

  “Right. Superman.” She grinned to try to lighten the mood, but he was so disappointed in himself that his lips didn’t even lift a fraction.

  She didn’t want to add to his worries. “I’ll see the medics.”

  “Thank you.” He squeezed her hand. “I need to talk to the guy with the slip next to Vetter’s.”

  “You think he might know where Vetter went?”

  “Hopefully. Do you want to wait here or sit in my truck?”

  She wanted to be near him, not sitting in a vehicle in the distance. “Here.”

  He nodded as sirens sounded. “Likely Sheriff Jenkins—Blake. He’ll have questions for you. We’ve worked with him a lot, and I know you’ll like him.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  “Okay, sit tight. I’ll go meet Blake and bring him over.” He walked away.

  She watched his every step. She didn’t want him to go. Not at all. She’d come to depend on him again. Depend on his nearness. His attention. And now she felt alone. So alone.

  What would happen when they found Vetter—or whoever killed Scott—and Jackson no longer had a reason to stay with her? Could she recover from losing him again? Because one thing she knew for sure. He would go, and even if she might want to be with him again, he was just as far away from her as the day he’d left six years ago.

  From the marina office, Jackson glanced at Maggie sitting on the ambulance bumper as the medic stripped off her blood pressure cuff. They’d pronounced her fine. No thanks to him. How had he missed that tripwire? A rookie mistake, and he was far from a rookie. Sure, their intel didn’t give him any reason to expect Vetter would plant a bomb, but Jackson shouldn’t have underestimated him. He was a killer after all. Or at least it looked like he was a killer.

  Maggie’s words came back to him. She said he was a man. Simply a man. He got that. Man, how he got it. There were too many reminders in his past for him not to know his limitations. But the worst thing he could do right now was focus on it and make another mistake. He had to let it go and move on. Problem was, he kept proving how bad he was at letting things go.

  Perhaps this moment, right now, was a chance for him to do that. To start over. Vowing to try, he stepped over to the man who’d been scrubbing his boat deck. He stood staring at the dock, likely trying to determine if his boat was salvageable.

  “I’m sorry about your boat,” Jackson said.

  The guy swung his gaze to Jackson and ran it over him, a hint of anger in his eyes.

  Jackson handed him a business card. “I’m Jackson Lockhart. I work with Blackwell Tactical.”

  “Freddy Paulson.” He bent to study the card. “What did you want with Vetter?”

  “We’re investigating his connection to a murder.”

  “Murder.” Freddy’s head popped up. “He killed someone?”

  “We don’t know for sure.”

  Freddy shook his head. “No wonder he set his boat to blow like that. Was he covering up evidence? Or trying to kill you, too?”

  “We don’t know that either, which is why we need to find him.”

  Freddy shoved the business card in his pocket and clamped his hand on his neck. “I talked to him this morning before he took off.”

  “You did?”

  “Was weird. He pulls up in this new speedboat. A real fancy one. Cost big bucks. He packed up his things and loaded them in the new boat.” Freddy shook his head. “How he goes from renting an old boat to owning a pricey one like that one, I don’t know.”

  “Did he say where he was headed?”

  “Yeah. Up the coast to Washington.”

  “Any specific city?”

  “Nah.”

  “When was this?”

  “Just before you got here.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe two hours ago now.”

  “You have any idea how fast this boat could travel in two hours?”

  He smirked. “Yeah, I looked up the boat’s specs the minute Vetter took off. Clocks in wide open around fifty miles an hour.”

  “Means he could be a hundred miles up the coast already.” Jackson didn’t like that Vetter had such a head start. He could’ve stopped anywhere along the coast, and they’d never know where. “Did he ever mention knowing anyone in Washington?”

  Freddy tapped his chin. “No. I don’t think so. He was kinda quiet.”

  Jackson took out his phone and displayed Scott’s picture. “Did you ever see this guy with Vetter?”