Whispering.

  Anything to indicate if more than one person lurked behind those limbs. Or close by.

  Watching him?

  No technology, no experts, no evidence was going to help him with this one. It was all assessing what he could see, listening for what he couldn’t, and relying on instinct.

  She had a gun.

  So did he, but until he had an eye on her, she had the advantage.

  Tommy Grainger was in full work mode. Gun out. Pointing.

  He took one step back, off to the side, so he wasn’t standing in her line of fire. In case her aim was that good.

  The cave. The fallen trees and brush at the entrance. That perimeter. All impressive.

  He’d bet they were things her father had taught her.

  The Special Forces marine.

  A man Devon would have liked to have known.

  One who’d raised a daughter to risk her life for others. To get up when she fell, brush herself off and move on. To push herself, physically and mentally. To serve her family with an open heart filled with love.

  Devon was sure the man had not advised his daughter to fall in love with a complete stranger. And yet...she had. Not love. She hadn’t loved Devon. But she’d made love to him with an open heart filled with acceptance. With honor and liking and care.

  “Kacey?” He lowered his gun but didn’t move otherwise. She’d have to shoot through the mountain to hit him. Or Kyle would.

  Someone else their father would have trained.

  His call was met with total silence.

  “I’m alone,” he said then. “Sierra’s Web tracked your phone for me. I’ve been out here looking for you since the security system went down. Except for a brief time when I let myself be convinced that you didn’t need my help. Please, just let me know you’re okay.”

  “Did you report the gun stolen?” He almost dropped to his knees when he heard the strength in her words. Like she was going to use the weapon on him then and there if he had.

  “No.” Just the one word. Partially because his throat was thick with emotion. He blinked. Looked up to the sky.

  Thank God.

  She was still there.

  And wasn’t going to shoot him. His heart had known that all along. Kacey gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. Even after they’d hurt her.

  Unlike Tommy Grainger—and through him, Devon Miller—who never would.

  “I’m afraid Kyle’s dead. His phone’s saying it’s not in service.” She hadn’t shown herself. Didn’t sound any closer.

  He remained off to the side of the cave’s opening. Wasn’t going to trap her. “I saw him this morning.”

  Devon barely heard movement before he saw her, standing there covered from the hips down by her natural gate. Her hair looked tangled. Her face, what he could make out of it, seemed to hang with weariness.

  “You saw Kyle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?” She still hadn’t come out. Didn’t trust him. Or want to be with him. Either way, he didn’t like it.

  If she was involved in something bad, he had to help her.

  By the law, but he’d pull every string he had to pull. And find others if she needed them. He’d pay Sierra’s Web to contact whoever they had to contact to make things as easy on her as possible. “At the marina. He came out of the public bathroom and jumped in a boat tied up at the visitor’s dock.”

  Her wall fell forward so quickly, he jumped back. And then, unable to help himself, moved toward her, turning on his phone’s light and shining her as she stood there. His beam covered every inch of her.

  He had to know she was okay.

  “What kind of boat?” she asked, not even squinting in the brightness.

  She’d been crying. Streaks of dirt followed what would have been tears down her cheeks.

  “An older one. Motorboat. Small, but powerful judging by the way he took off out of there.” He knew so much more about her and her brother than he had the last time he’d seen her. First and foremost, that the man she claimed had kidnapped her was a well-to-do businessman from Utah. Not something he was going to offer. He was still a cop.

  “With a red stripe down the side and a gold bulldog on the back?” Her voice shook.

  Bulldog. Marine mascot. He should have put that together.

  “Yes.”

  He’d turned off his flashlight but could still see the glisten in her suddenly widened eyes. “Can I use your boat?”

  “We can use my boat.” That was nonnegotiable.

  She nodded. “We have to go, Devon. Now,” she told him. Moving quickly, as though she was going to lead the way.

  Heading off in the wrong direction. That strength. The determination. The getting right back up and moving forward. He almost hated to call out to her.

  “Kacey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “The off-roader is this way.”

  He waited for her to catch up to him. Would have started toward the vehicle, but she stopped right in front of him. Almost standing on his toes.

  “Thank you for coming to get me,” she said, then.

  And he pulled her into his arms.

  He couldn’t help it.

  The woman had gotten to him.

  Chapter 25

  For a second, Kacey let herself lean on Devon. She fell into him, hung on.

  And then let go.

  Heading off in the direction he’d indicated. He’d keep up with her. She knew that much about him.

  “Last I knew, the boat was out of commission,” she told him, her tone giving away none of the relief that had consumed her when she’d felt his body against hers. “Something about the engine. Kyle must have had it fixed.” He hadn’t mentioned it, which seemed odd, but not nearly as out of character as fights with strangers, bloody knives and refusing to confide in her.

  And that was all for a future moment.

  In the current one... “My dad insisted on a tracking device for the boat,” she started telling the only man who was currently in a position to help her. “We lived a block from the river and rather than restricting us from going there alone, he taught us how to enjoy the water safely.” The vehicle wasn’t in sight yet. They had a walk ahead of them. She wasn’t going to let time in the dark with Devon push her off track. “He practiced what he preached. Even his fishing boat had a tracker because he said you never know and you have to be prepared...”

  “I’d like to have met him.”

  Her heart tugged. Her dad probably would have liked Devon.

  Other than the thinking his daughter was a criminal thing.

  No.

  She wasn’t getting personal.

  She had to find Kyle and one way or another, get her life back. Period.

  “It’s an old device,” she said after a long second’s pause. “A little radio transmitter. There are four receivers. Mom has one. Kyle and I each have one. And the fourth one is buried under a rock in the shore right by our dock. Mom’s friend Cynthia knows to check there if we don’t make it back.”

  What had always seemed normal to her, good sense, sounded paranoid as she walked in the dark with a man she’d only known a few days.

  A man who’d never met her family.

  And who was convinced that her brother was a bad guy.

  Even if Kyle had fallen into something off-key, there’d be some kind of explanation. Maybe not one that would keep him out of jail, but her twin was a good man.

  Bone-deep good.

  If he had to do jail time, he’d be a model prisoner. Kyle was just that way.

  “You’re suggesting that we take my boat to Bullhead City, to look under a rock for a receiver that’s been buried there for years?”

  “I dug it up last year, the last time we had the boat out actually, to change the batteries,” she said. “And yes.” It was the day the engine had gone out. She’d had Lizzie onboard with her.

  “The man wouldn’t talk to you, tell you what was going on, even after you were kidnapped and left to die,” Devon’s tone was stern. “How on earth can you still think he’d leave you a way to find him?”

  “That’s not why he’s in that boat. Kyle has his own boat. He has access to a marina of them. The only reason he’d take Dad’s is because he’s in over his head. Anytime he’s struggling, he uses Dad’s tools, or wears an old shirt of his, or goes fishing in Dad’s favorite spot. I know my twin. He’s feeling desperate.”

  And if he wasn’t...if he’d thrown out the radio transmitter in the boat...she at least had to try. Even if she had to hitchhike back to Bullhead City and take her chances to remain undiscovered.

  “He’s no longer at his job.”

  She stumbled. He kept walking. And she kept up. She’d known, but...

  “How do you know that?”

  “I paid Sierra’s Web to see what they could find out.”

  For her. He’d spent his own money to help her. Granted, he’d won the lottery. Money wouldn’t mean to him what it meant to her. Still, that he’d done that...

  “Did they say anything else about him?” Like who those men were who’d been with her twin that night by their mother’s house.

  “No.”

  She nodded. Wanted to thank him for checking for her.

  Was afraid she’d crack and take him back into her personal space if she did.

  Instead, she just kept on walking.

  * * *

  Because they couldn’t operate a personal watercraft on the river between sunset and sunrise, Devon suggested that Kacey get some sleep on the back seat of his vehicle while he drove the nearly two hours up to Bullhead City. With everything escalating, and him not feeling as much in control of the situation as he’d like, he wanted to keep her out of sight more than ever.

  She didn’t argue.

  She wasn’t saying much of anything.

  She’d accepted the water he’d offered her. Had taken down an entire bottle at once. But had shaken her head when he’d offered food.

  Though he kept a close watch, and was ready for trouble, the trip across one-lane mostly uninhabited roads lacking any kind of lighting was completely uneventful. Either whoever had been after him only knew his truck, as he’d suspected, or they no longer had an interest in him.

  Because they thought Kacey was dead?

  As the miles passed easily, he relaxed a bit with the thought that Tommy’s cover hadn’t been blown.

  And didn’t think Kacey slept at all. She’d been restless. He’d heard none of the long steady breaths he’d listened to when she’d been asleep in his arms.

  Seemed so long ago.

  He followed her directions to a public parking lot near her family’s dock. Expected a fight when he told her to stay down in the off-roader while he went to dig up the receiver. Instead, she’d told him exactly where to find the device. And he’d done so in a matter of minutes, careful to fill in the dirt and reapply the rock exactly as he’d found it. Verifying that he’d done so with the picture he’d snapped on his phone before beginning. And taking an after photo for her sake.

  As he headed back out of the small river town, he tried to picture Kacey growing up there. Completely silent in the back—not even a thank-you when he’d handed her the receiver—she didn’t mention which street she lived on in the small town. Didn’t point out an area, much less a house.

  From what he could see in the dark, lit only by a few city streetlights, there weren’t a lot of two-story homes.

  What she’d also never mentioned during their acquaintance, but which he’d full well known, was the brightly lit strip of casinos directly across the river from her hometown.

  Laughlin, Nevada. Once his father’s responsibilities. Though the casino strip was an hour and a half from Las Vegas, it was still under the LVPD jurisdiction. Tommy had been there many times. With Kacey, unknowingly, just a quick walk across the bridge.

  Devon Miller’s portion of the great Colorado River bordered California. Kacey’s bordered Tommy Grainger’s home state.

  Not one to put any credibility in omens, he still figured that for a bad one.

  Tired, and yet filled with the adrenaline that kept Tommy Grainger on the job for thirty-six hours or more when needed, Devon made it back to his cabin with a few hours to spare before sunrise.

  Charged up that he wasn’t going to spend the night in his home alone, as he’d been thinking when he’d been frying fish he hadn’t wanted, he wasn’t even put out when Kacey excused herself to the restroom the second he unlocked the front door. And then, with a quick word about seeing him just before dawn, went into her room.

  The lock he heard click in place after her pretty much told him where she stood.

  His body drooped a little with the message, but, as he cleaned up the dinner mess he’d left, the rest of him was completely on board with her choice.

  Their time to fool around was done.

  He was an undercover cop. Kacey was a victim, and possibly a suspect.

  There was no more between them than that.

  * * *

  Kacey slept well. And was already awake before she heard Devon moving around in the cabin. Unlike the morning before, when she’d purposely stayed in her room until after he’d left, she was up and had the coffee going before he exited the bathroom.

  Her turn was quick. Just basic necessities.

  She had to get out on the river.

  And away from the reminders of who she’d been in that cabin. With him. Because she knew herself. With just a small bit of encouragement from him she’d be right back in his arms. In his bed. In his life for however long he wanted her there.

  His inability to trust was a flaw. Most definitely.

  But she understood it. He was aware of it. Acknowledged it.

  And everyone had faults.

  On the other side...the man had been faultless in his support of her. Respecting her choices. Being honest with her. Risking his life for her.

  Even after she’d left him, he’d come to find her.

  Was helping her find Kyle.

  He was tender. Aware. Paid attention.

  And...her heart burst open when he came out of his room in shorts, a T-shirt and tennis shoes, his long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She loved the man.

  The day before, she wouldn’t let herself think about never seeing him again. Or to acknowledge how bad leaving him hurt. She wouldn’t let herself cry for him.

  Didn’t seem possible that she could love him. She’d known him less than a week. But they’d faced possible death together. And lived a lifetime in those few days.

  “You ready?” he asked, all business when she was melting all over the place.

  Saving her again. From herself.

  “Yes,” she told him, holding up a shopping bag filled with bottled water, granola bars and fruit.

  His nod as he reached into the oven and pulled out two bagel-and-egg sandwiches, handing her one, didn’t express approval. Or the opposite.

  What was, was.

  She took the bagel and ate, following him out the door.

  * * *

  For an old device with outdated technology, the tracking system worked like a charm. He should have figured. A marine would have had access to the best of the best.

  Tense as he steered his small motor craft, Devon was channeling Tommy, all cop, watching everywhere. Ready for anything. Kyle being at Devon’s marina the day before had not been an accident. Or a coincidence borne out of bathroom necessity.

  The man clearly had some kind of business there.

  With Kacey’s kidnappers? Someone had abducted her. Tied her up. Left her to die. Someone who’d argued with Kyle in Bullhead City.

  Or else Kyle Ashland was the unluckiest human being Devon had met in a while, stopping to pee and being spotted by an undercover detective, who happened to have rescued his sister. The man’s days of escaping accountability for whatever he’d gotten involved in were done.

  Worried about Kacey, about how it would all go down, how he’d protect her, Devon followed the coordinates he was receiving, watching for anyone else on the river.

  He wanted Kyle Ashland to pay for whatever he’d done. He did not want to lead killers to the man’s boat.

  As they got closer, he slowed. And before approach, turned off his motor. Grabbing the oars to propel them.

  “Sit at the wheel,” he told Kacey. “Be prepared to throttle up and get us out of here.”

  She was there in a second. Watching around them intently, one hand on the wheel, one hand on the key.

  “Stop.” He heard her whisper. She pointed. Run aground in a cove almost completely covered naturally by the low-hanging branches of trees above, was the boat.

  He nodded, letting her know he’d seen it.

  And a shot rang out.

  * * *

  “Full throttle!” Devon’s command came in the very next second.

  Kacey held tight to the key, ready to pull it from the ignition if Devon approached.

  Kyle had shot in the air. Kacey heard the bullet burst through the leaves and branches above them.

  And she saw Devon aiming for her father’s boat.

  He wouldn’t miss.

  “Kyle,” she called softly. Just once. He’d have scoped out the area. Wouldn’t have shot if he thought whoever he was running from was nearby.

  He’d been warning any curious onlookers to leave him alone.

  Even if he hadn’t secured his surroundings and didn’t know he wasn’t alerting her kidnappers to his location, he’d know her voice.

  Devon wasn’t going to give him a second chance. He was aiming.

  Sweat poured down Kacey’s back.

  Then, hands in the air, Kyle appeared.

  Devon lowered his gun.