Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Carol Ericson (short books to read TXT) 📖

time. We had so many plans. Now all our dreams for our future together are just gone.”

Instead of seeing Gabi’s tearful gaze, he pictured Keara, stoic and frustrated as she tried to get closure, seven long years after her husband had been murdered.

It wasn’t his job. Not to investigate the bombing outside his role with the victims. Definitely not to try and connect it to an old murder case. But he’d seen what a good investigation could do for those left behind. Knowing who was to blame, being able to see justice done for those they loved. It made a difference. It was why he’d left private practice to join the FBI. Maybe he could help Keara find her own closure.

“Call Keara Hernandez,” he told his phone as he started up his SUV, heading toward downtown Desparre instead of back to Luna. Even before she picked up, his pulse increased at the thought of seeing her.

“Hello?”

Her tone was cautious, as if she wasn’t sure what to expect, and he wondered if it was because of their kiss last night or his less-than-enthusiastic response to her theory this morning.

“I’m in Desparre and I was hoping we could grab a coffee before I make the drive back to Luna,” he told her, surprised at the nerves in his belly, like he was asking for a date instead of a chance to talk about the case.

He could have just swung by the police station, but he didn’t want word getting around that he was spending too much time talking to the Desparre police chief. Ben and Anderson were already suspicious. As much as he respected them, he wasn’t in the mood for their only-partially joking jabs at him “playing agent.” Especially since he didn’t plan to stop. Not for this case, and not when it might help Keara.

When the pause on the other end of the phone went on too long, Patches chimed in. Woof! Woof!

Keara laughed. “Okay, Patches. I can do that.” Then her voice got more businesslike. “This isn’t Anchorage. We don’t have a dedicated coffee shop in Desparre. But there’s a spot we can go outside downtown with good coffee. You have a new idea about the case?”

“I wish I did. I just thought we could talk it over again, see if we can come up with something new.” He didn’t say the rest of it: he wanted to see her.

There was another pause, like Keara was reconsidering, but then she said, “Okay,” and gave him an address.

It was actually closer to Gabi’s mom’s place than driving all the way into downtown, and Jax pulled into a gas station and did a quick U-turn to get onto a different street. According to his GPS, it was a quicker route to The Lodge, the spot where Keara had recommended they meet.

“You ready to see Keara?” he asked Patches, glancing at her in his rearview mirror.

As she barked an affirmative, Jax frowned, squinting at the huge dark blue truck behind him. It looked like the same vehicle that had been behind him on the road from Gabi’s. But why would it now be going this way? Had it also turned around at the gas station?

Was someone following him? And why did that vehicle seem slightly familiar, like he’d seen it before today?

He eased up on the gas, slowing to ten miles below the limit, hoping the truck would pass him on the otherwise deserted road. But it slowed, too, staying just far enough behind him that Jax couldn’t get a good look at the driver.

His heart rate picked up, even as he told himself he was being paranoid. Why would anyone follow him?

It was probably just a coincidence. Still, when a street appeared to his right, Jax yanked the wheel that way.

Patches barked and he could hear her sliding across the seat at his sudden turn.

“Sorry, Patches,” Jax said, his gaze darting back and forth between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.

After a minute passed and the truck didn’t appear again, Jax let out a heavy breath and eased his foot slightly off the gas.

Despite telling himself he’d been overreacting, he didn’t fully relax until he reached the restaurant Keara had chosen. Apparently, it had once been a lodge and even the outside looked more like a log cabin than a small-town restaurant.

As he let Patches out of the SUV and scratched her ears, an apology for his erratic driving, he couldn’t help glancing around for the big blue truck. Then he shook his head and muttered, “I think I needed a longer break, Patches.”

She stared up at him, her soft brown eyes telegraphing sympathy.

He’d considered taking a vacation between finishing his term on the Rapid Deployment Team in DC and moving out to Anchorage. But the job opening had seemed perfect and the idea of Alaska had felt so different and enticing that he’d jumped on it. He’d been sure the cases he’d see here would be tiny compared to the mass casualty events that had burned him out over the previous three years. But this bombing was bringing it all back.

Apparently, that stress was making him imagine threats where there were none.

Movement in the distance made him jump and his gaze darted to the woods bracketing the restaurant. Then he froze in awe.

A moose, much bigger than he’d imagined the animals to be, paused and stared back at him.

When Patches took a slow, curious step forward, Jax grabbed her collar and his rapid movement sent the moose running.

Letting go of a breath along with Patches’s collar, he said, “Let’s go see Keara.”

Woof! Woof!

Grinning at his dog’s suddenly wagging tail, echoing his own feelings, Jax led her into The Lodge. There were small tables scattered throughout the main space, centered around a fireplace. Near the front was a section that carried food, like a small specialty grocery store.

It wasn’t very big, so he could tell immediately that despite his detour, he’d still beaten Keara here. Probably due to his erratic