makeup and made a mental note to find a way to express her appreciation to Donna and the men who’d risked their lives yesterday to save her, both at the office building and later on Cooper’s Bluff.
A few minutes later, with her hair brushed and some makeup on her face, she felt like a brand-new woman. She slung the strap of her laptop case over her head, letting it hang across her shoulder. Then she cautiously made her way down the hallway she’d spotted underneath the staircase earlier.
Following the voices, she ended up in the doorway of a massive room in the back right corner of the house. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined two of the walls. The third wall had a bank of small TV screens, which she realized showed pictures of the road out front and various other angles of the farm—probably that fancy security system Dillon had told her about. The last wall was a bank of windows with an incredible view of the sun sinking over the mountains. Little puffs of white mist rose into the air all across those mountains. She remembered staring at that same mist as a little girl, asking her daddy if the mountains were on fire. He’d laughed and told her no, the mist was a natural phenomenon because of the climate, and the reason people called the mountains the Smokies.
“Well, hello,” a male voice called out.
She tore her gaze from the picturesque view out the windows. Apparently Chris was the one who’d spoken, because he gave her a friendly wave. The two men sitting on either side of him around an enormous cherrywood table in the middle of the room smiled at her, as well. They were the SWAT officers who’d been with Dillon and Chris yesterday, the same ones who’d rescued them on the island—Max and Randy.
She returned Chris’s wave and hobbled into the room. “Where’s Dillon?” she asked.
“Right behind you.”
She whirled around in surprise at the deep voice that sounded so close. The movement sent a sharp, fiery spike of pain up her calves and she started to fall.
“Whoa, whoa, I’ve got you.” He caught her in his arms and lifted her against his chest. “You okay? Did you need something?”
“I, uh, no. I don’t need anything. And you certainly don’t need to carry me again.”
“I don’t mind.” He winked.
Her face flushed hot. “I woke up and thought I’d do a little work.” She patted her laptop bag. “I heard voices and followed them back here.”
His gaze traveled over her hair and her face in a soft caress. “Looks like you might have made it into the bedroom, too, and did a little primping,” he teased, his voice a whisper only she could hear. “For the record, you were already beautiful. But you look even better now.”
She blinked, not sure what to say.
“So what’s the verdict? Now that you know all us guys are here, do you want to stay or go back to the family room? We’re reviewing the case files and brainstorming.”
“I’d rather stay, if you don’t mind. I won’t get in the way. And if you have any questions for me, I’ll be right here.”
“Works for me.” He strode to the table and gently set her on one of the padded chairs, then sat next to her.
She set her laptop on the table and turned it on. But the silence had her glancing back up. Three pairs of eyes were watching her. The only one who wasn’t watching her was Dillon, who was silently reading from one of many folders scattered across the tabletop.
“Um, hi,” she said. “Don’t mind me. I need to finish my report for Mr. Gibson’s bank. I’ll sit here quietly.”
Chris slid a bowl of pretzels across the table to her. “Hungry?”
“I could eat. Thanks.” She popped a pretzel in her mouth.
“You’ll need a drink,” Max said. He appeared to be the youngest of them, probably fresh out of school. His angular face and dark hair made her wonder if he might have some Cherokee in him. “Water? Sweet tea? Beer?” he asked.
“Seriously, no one needs to wait on me. I’m
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