Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) (3 page)

“It’s gorgeous.” A female voice spoke from behind him, presumably Judith.

Her sister was quick to agree. “Breathtaking.”

The van rolled to a stop in front of the lodge. One by one, the passengers extracted themselves. Twisting his shoulders, Travis stretched to ease tight muscles, then took a long look around. A single canoe with two occupants floated in the middle of the lake, fishing lines trailing in the water. The two older gentlemen, he guessed. A burly fellow with a full beard followed by a short, plump woman walked out onto the porch and called out a greeting in the still afternoon as the screen door slapped shut behind them. Undoubtedly their hosts. There was no sign of the family the driver had mentioned—or Sutton.

Grace stood with her hands fisted on her hips, surveying her new surroundings. Bright sunlight gleamed on long, mink-brown hair. Perfectly straight, it hung in a fall over her shoulders. So sleek, it looked like she ironed it. With those amazing emerald eyes and high cheekbones, the woman was stunning. Too bad he wasn’t here to start something he wouldn’t have time to finish.

The thought left him feeling deflated.

Grabbing his duffle bag, he crossed the gravel drive to the wide, weathered front porch of the lodge. The sooner he settled in, the sooner he could go looking for Sutton. Instinct urged him to find the man fast and get him far away from Moose Lake.

The skin on the back of his neck prickled as he glanced over his shoulder at his companions still standing in the yard. The drone of bees in a tub of petunias near the porch blended with birdsong from the surrounding forest. The lazy atmosphere reminded him of summer days camping with his dad when he was a kid. Idyllic. Yet the uneasy feeling persisted. None of the lodge guests looked like a threat, but complacency could get him—and Sutton—killed. Until he was safely away with his charge, he had to assume everyone had a hidden agenda.

His gaze locked on Grace. Her eyes narrowed as she looked toward a winding path disappearing into a grove of western hemlock. Wearing a pair of pristine white pants and a sleeveless top that hugged her curves and displayed toned arms, she was every man’s wet dream. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. She probably had no connection to Sutton, but her mere presence was a distraction he couldn’t afford.

Despite the attraction he felt for her,—
hell,
because of it
—staying clear of Grace Hanover was a must.

Grace rolled her suitcase through the doorway and glanced around the spartan room. A single bed spread with a patchwork quilt, a small dresser and a desk with a straight back chair. Not exactly the Ritz. A rag rug covered a portion of the wide plank flooring, and a door in the corner presumably led to a private bathroom. Thank God she wouldn’t have to share. No story was worth that indignity.

Flopping onto the bed, she kicked off her shoes and closed her eyes. A nap before dinner sounded like heaven, though she knew she should go looking for Sutton. There’d been no sign of him downstairs or on the grounds of the property. A look through the old-fashioned registration book when she checked in hadn’t revealed his name. Not that the feds would be stupid enough to sign him in under his real identity. The lone entry with any promise was for a man named Mark Johnson.

Not very original, but he had registered three weeks before, which was about the time the initial story about Sutton broke. If Mark Johnson wasn’t Casey Sutton and she’d come all this way for nothing... She pressed fingers to temples niggling with the beginnings of a headache.

If this turned out to be some elaborate wild goose chase, she swore to dismember Tia slowly and feed her piece by piece to the sharks.

On a groan, she levered off the bed and searched her purse for a bottle of aspirin. Too bad napping wouldn’t get her the story. No time like the present to look for her quarry. The sooner she found Sutton, the sooner she’d be on a plane out of this bucolic hellhole. Swallowing the tablets dry, she unzipped her suitcase and hunted for a pair of socks and sneakers, finding them under a pair of jeans. Suitably shod for hiking in the woods, she stuffed her mini recorder, a notepad and pen, a bottle of water and a couple of bags of airplane pretzels in a tote bag then headed downstairs.

Their hostess, who had introduced herself earlier as Berta French, stood in the central hallway, a smile on her dimpled face as she talked to a boy who looked about seven or eight years old. The youngster tore off, letting the screen door slam shut behind him. Berta turned to face Grace. Curly red hair framed round cheeks and twinkling hazel eyes, reminding Grace of an elf.

“Are you off to explore?”

“I thought I’d take a walk in the forest. Maybe you could suggest a trail?”

Her gaze dropped to Grace’s feet, and she frowned. “I recommend boots for a serious hike, and jeans. I’d hate to see you ruin those beautiful white pants.”

Grace gritted her teeth. “I won’t go far. I’m sure there must be someplace close by that’s popular with your guests.”

“The trail to the right of the lodge follows a creek. You can go for miles and miles, but there’s a lovely spot about a half-mile away with a gorgeous view of the valley.”

“Sounds perfect. Am I likely to run into anyone else up there?” She held her breath, waiting for the answer.

“Possibly. A few of our guests are out and about. Enjoy yourself.”

Without coming right out and asking where she could find Casey Sutton, a.k.a. Mark Johnson, it was the best she could do. Surely the man would be on his way back to the lodge for dinner. She’d nab him on the trail before he arrived. Thirty minutes alone with Sutton would send her career soaring into the stratosphere.

Grace found the trail without a problem. It was the same one she’d noticed when she arrived. Setting off at a brisk pace, the exercise felt wonderful after hours sitting in a cramped plane. As her muscles stretched and flexed, her headache disappeared. Maybe there was something positive to be said for hiking, after all.

Patches of flowers lined the rocky path, blue forget-me-nots, and tall purplish-pink weedy looking things she didn’t recognize. At a flicker of movement, Grace glanced skyward. A hawk circled in an air current. Her breath caught at the grace and beauty of the creature as it dived toward the earth. A shrill squeal echoed in the still afternoon. Shuddering, she turned away as the bird rose with some helpless rodent clutched in its talons.

“Did you see that?”

“Geez!” Pressing a hand to her chest, she spun on the heels of her sneakers. “Oh, my God, you scared me to death.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry. Travis’s eyes, the pale blue of the summer sky, glimmered with amusement. “That was amazing.”

“Vicious and bloodthirsty is more like it.”

“Hey, birds of prey have to eat, too.”

“I suppose.” She studied him for a long moment, and her eyes narrowed. “I thought you were meeting a friend up here.”

He shifted, his hiking boots scraping against a rock. “I haven’t seen him yet. He must be out for a walk.”

The friend wasn’t a woman. The knowledge sent anticipation darting through her then nearly stopped her heart. There weren’t a lot of candidates for his missing buddy. If he was this Mark Johnson person, she’d come a long way for nothing. The breath left her in a whoosh.

“Are you okay?”

Hopefully there was some other explanation, a guest she hadn’t noticed on the registration ledger. Possibly an employee at the lodge. Or maybe Travis wasn’t just a gorgeous guy on a fishing trip. Her investigative reporter instincts kicked in.
Does he have an ulterior motive?

“Uh, I’m fine.”

“You went a little pale. Do you want to sit down for a minute?”

“Really, I’m okay.”

He shrugged. “If you’re sure. There’s supposed to be a vista point not far from here.”

“You must have talked to our hostess. She told me the same thing.”

She’d never met anyone with a more direct gaze. Of course she could lie with the best of them without blinking an eye. Most reporters learned that trick early on if they coveted any measure of success.

“This close to dinner, hauling out the fishing gear seemed like too much of an effort. A hike was easier.”

She fell in behind him as he started up the narrow trail. Ten feet away, a creek filled with spring runoff rushed toward Moose Lake, making conversation nearly impossible over the water’s roar. Which left Grace plenty of time to consider the possibilities. She didn’t like many of them.

Best case scenario, his friend had neglected to sign the register, and Travis was as innocent as a kitten. Worse case, he was a rival reporter hot on the trail of
her
story. If he thought he could out wit and out play her, he had another think coming. She’d get Sutton’s story if she had to tie Travis to a tree, cover him in honey and leave him for the grizzly bears.

She smacked into his broad back when he stopped in front of her. The image of his muscled torso dripping honey had…distracted her. Turning, he grabbed her upper arms as she swayed.

“Easy there.”

She swallowed as heat crept up her neck. The imprint of his fingers burned her bare skin. “Sorry. I was thinking about something—else.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a quarter. “Based on your expression, I figure your thoughts are worth more than a penny.”

Her lips tilted. “I’m pretty sure you don’t have enough change in your pocket to cover the cost.”

“Fair enough, so let’s keep going.” Pressing his palm against her back, he guided her toward a rock outcropping. “Berta was right. The view is spectacular.”

Evergreens marched in an endless procession down the valley walls to the sapphire blue bowl at its base. The lodge was hidden from view, but the end of the dock was just visible, as was a canoe floating on the still waters. In the distance, white peaks rose heavenward.

“I think I’ll hang out for a while. Don’t let me keep you.” Dropping her tote bag on a smooth granite rock, she hitched herself up onto the sun-warmed surface. From her new vantage point, she had a clear view of the trail.

“I’m in no rush.” Leaning against the boulder with arms crossed over his chest, he stared out over the valley.

Grace bit her lip. Under normal circumstances when a handsome man was on her radar, she’d test the waters. Flirt. See if they had anything in common beyond an initial chemistry. If she saw potential, she would suggest drinks or coffee, something safe. Her pulse raced. This empty landscape was as foreign to her as the moon, threatening in its strangeness. She was more in her element in a dark alley than in this vast wilderness, despite its beauty.

Not that she was afraid of Travis, exactly. His unswerving confidence shook her, but it was a hint of mystery that put her guard up. He was holding something back. Every instinct screamed caution.

“For a chatterbox, you’re awfully quiet.”

She pulled her water bottle out of the bag and unscrewed the cap. “I was wondering what those tall, pink flowers are.”

“I’m not sure.” Removing his sunglasses, he wiped the lenses on his T-shirt, giving her a narrow-eyed glance. “I bet good old Mitch Cannon would be happy to help you bone up on native flora, among other things.”

She choked on a mouthful of water, coughing so hard he had to pound her on the back. Some of her unease faded. “I bet.”

They grinned at each other, and the silence stretched. Taking a breath, she let it out slowly. “So, what do you do in Seattle?”

“Security, mostly.”

Frowning, she rubbed at a spot of dirt on the knee of her white pants. “Banking and investments, that sort of thing?”

“You’re thinking of securities. I meant protection.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re a bodyguard?”

He laughed. “Your stunned disbelief isn’t exactly flattering.”

“Sorry, but when I think of a bodyguard, I picture a guy with no neck and biceps the size of tree trunks.”

“A few martial arts moves are usually more effective.” He put the sunglasses back on, hiding his expression. “Actually, I own a company that provides high-end protection for homes and businesses, but my people will serve as bodyguards if needed. We also do investigative work.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth. “Yep, I’m a glorified P.I.”

She smiled. “Thanks for clarifying. I like to get my facts straight.” Definitely not a reporter. If he was, he wouldn’t have made up such an elaborate lie. Relief lightened her spirits. “So, you’re on vacation?”

“I’m hooking up with my friend, and then we’re heading out from here. I probably won’t be staying long at the lodge.”

“Oh. Who’s your friend?”

He turned at the sound of voices. Moments later Alma and Judith appeared on the trail. Huffing and red-faced, Judith pressed a hand to her chest. Her sister wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Absolutely wonderful. I told you the view would be well worth the climb.”

“This altitude gets to me. We could have waited a day or two to adjust.”

Alma snorted. “We won’t be here long enough to waste time acclimating. Besides, it isn’t the altitude bothering you, which isn’t all that high. It’s the potato chips you were snacking on earlier.” She smiled at Grace. “Enjoying the view?”

“It’s impressive.” She gritted her teeth, damning the untimely interruption. Travis hadn’t answered her question, and even if Sutton showed up, she wouldn’t be able to interview him in this crowd. Stuffing her water bottle back in her tote, she slid off the rock. “I’ll leave you ladies to admire Mother Nature.”

Giving Travis a half smile, she headed for the trail. He caught up with her a few minutes later. “I’m not stalking you, I swear, but listening to those two bicker like a couple of school girls was more than I could take.”

“It’s actually kind of fun. Rachel and I still get into meaningless debates just to push each other’s buttons. No one knows you quite the way a sister does.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

She turned to look at him. “Only child?”

“Two brothers. We didn’t argue. We beat the crap out of each other.”

“Figures.” If she asked him again about his friend, he’d wonder why she cared. She bit her lip. “I suppose everyone will be headed back to the lodge soon. My stomach says it’s dinnertime, even if it looks like midday.”