Stormy Haven. Elizabeth GoddardЧитать онлайн книгу.
could easily have fallen for Peter. He was handsome. Charming. Clearly interested in her. Maybe she’d still been vulnerable after what she’d endured. Peter had been there to comfort her and...he’d asked too many questions about her life and her past. He’d only wanted to get to know her better, but she didn’t want to revisit the ugliness in Miami. Her reluctance to answer his questions had frustrated and then angered him as he demanded to know what she was hiding. The relationship that could have been fell apart quickly after that. And so she’d put Peter behind her, just like she’d put behind her everything that had happened in Miami.
She got up and peeked through the mini blinds and out the window to make sure the man hadn’t made his way back. The storm still raged outside. Maybe that would deter him for a while.
She settled at the kitchen table and thought back to her messed-up life.
If she couldn’t share all of her life with Peter, then she had no business letting the relationship go deeper.
Nothing had changed. She was still too broken, and could never truly let herself be vulnerable enough to love or be loved.
And now with this attack on her life, she realized she could never let down her guard. Trouble seemed to find her one way or another.
She’d endangered a guest today, but she was grateful he’d stepped into the fray.
Since Ian had checked in at her lodge, they’d forged a laid-back friendship, neither of them sharing too much about themselves. Just enough to make conversation and still hold everything close. At least that had been her intention, and she sensed he was no different.
While his friendship had been just right—exactly what she’d needed, she feared that if given too much leeway, her heart could easily step across the line she’d drawn. Somehow she had to keep her heart from betraying her.
Enough of these thoughts! Someone from the sheriff’s department could already be here.
After donning warm slacks, a floral T-shirt and soft sweater, she quickly towel dried her hair. It would have to do. She put on blush and lipstick, then paused as she stared at herself. She hardly ever used makeup unless it was a special occasion where she was dressed to impress.
What am I doing? Some part of her had wanted to look good for Ian, but that was ridiculous. She absolutely wasn’t going there with him or anyone. She couldn’t afford to.
Jonna exited her cabin and entered the lodge, fireflies dancing in her stomach at not only meeting Ian again, but also facing the substation deputy, Ollie Shane. Or would Sheriff Garrison himself show up? That would depend on where he was in the county when the call came through.
She hurried around the corner to the large living area comfortably decorated and boasting a massive fireplace and panoramic window. A few guests lingered, their attention drawn to something outside—storm watching. The reason they came to Oceanview Lodge.
Jonna didn’t see Ian. She breathed a sigh of relief and planted a smile for the benefit of the guests, but as she neared the window to face the storm, she realized what had garnered their attention. It wasn’t the storm after all, but the two men standing on the landing of the steps to the right down below them.
Wearing a weatherproof jacket, Ian stood with Sheriff Garrison near the edge of the awning, barely safe from the wind and rain. So the sheriff himself had come to investigate. Ian gestured with his hands, apparently sharing the events of the last hour without her. Why were they outside, though? Had Ian been showing the sheriff the rocks where it all happened?
She wanted to share her side of the story but didn’t want to go back out into the storm.
“Jonna, what’s going on?” DiAnn Morrison, one of her employees and a good friend, approached. “Why’s the sheriff here?”
Jonna urged DiAnn down the hall toward the kitchen. Only employees used it so she didn’t have to worry about a guest overhearing her words. She didn’t want to alarm anyone, not until she’d spoken to the sheriff, but DiAnn should know. “A man tried to shoot me on the beach.”
DiAnn took a step back, sheer terror in her eyes. “What did you say?”
Jonna didn’t repeat herself but simply waited, allowing DiAnn to absorb the news.
“I can’t believe it. That’s just horrible.”
“Please keep all of this to yourself,” Jonna urged. “At least let me speak to the sheriff first and see how he wants to handle it.”
“You don’t think it’s that...that serial killer, do you?”
“I don’t know. Be on the lookout for anything or anyone suspicious.”
DiAnn eased into a chair. Jonna would leave her to compose herself. Once she’d calmed down, she’d be able to calmly divert any questions the guests might have. DiAnn would know to maintain the bright and cheery demeanor that kept the guests coming back every year. She left DiAnn and grabbed a jacket on the hook by the kitchen door, then braved the storm again. Wind and rain lambasted her as she made her way around and found the two men behind a protective barrier that blunted the storm’s effects.
“And why were you there on the beach?”
At the question aimed toward Ian, Jonna hesitated revealing herself. She wanted to hear the answer to that, unfettered by her presence. She hadn’t even considered the question of why Ian had been on the beach, which meant her skills were getting rusty.
* * *
Ian had caught a glimpse of Jonna before she ducked out of sight. He shivered. “Could we talk about this someplace warm?”
“I think any evidence left behind is long gone, so there’s no reason to dig around out here. Let’s get inside,” Sheriff Garrison said.
Ian gestured for them to head back toward the lodge. Jonna stepped out at that moment. “Sheriff Garrison, thanks for coming.”
“Under the circumstances, I can’t say I’m glad to be here. Are you all right?”
“I’ve been better,” she said. “Let’s go inside and grab something warm to drink while we chat in the kitchen. If you don’t mind, I don’t want to worry my guests, so I haven’t yet shared with them what happened.”
Ian and Sheriff Garrison followed Jonna into the lodge and then the kitchen. Ian gladly shrugged out of the jacket, hung it on a peg at the door and rubbed his hands together. He would’ve much preferred to have this conversation near the big roaring fire, but other guests would hear their discussion.
“I’ll make you some coffee or hot chocolate,” Jonna said. “Which would you prefer?” She ushered Ian to a chair at the table, and the sheriff joined them.
Sheriff Garrison shrugged out of his jacket too. “Coffee’s good.”
Jonna sent Ian an acknowledging glance—she already knew his preference.
“You were just about to tell me why you were on the beach when there are warning signs about this storm.”
Ian stiffened. “I usually jog every day. Just ask Jonna. But I had decided to avoid it this morning because of the storm—” he eyed Jonna “—and because of the signs. Then I heard one of the guests mention they’d seen Jonna going for a run and they were worried about her since the storm was moving in faster than expected. The waves had grown bigger.”
The sheriff scrutinized him as if trying to figure out if Ian had some special interest in Jonna. Ian kept it cool.
“So you took it on yourself to check on her.”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? Seemed like the right thing to do.” There. Try to make something out of that. “I’d gone to the landing to see if she was close by and that’s when I spotted someone suspicious over behind the rocks.”
“Suspicious, how? And why would you decide