“Look, whoever that guy was, he was waiting outside your house. Do you really want to go back and give him a second chance to finish the job?”
“But...where can we—” She glanced at Nicholas. He might be too young to understand, but just in case she modified her language. “How do we know he wasn’t aiming for you? Maybe you’re the one who has the target on his back.”
“We don’t know. But he was waiting outside your house. Which is why you’re not going back there until I figure out—for sure—who was behind the attack and why. And put an end to the threat.”
“If there’s a threat. It could have been a random thing. A case of mistaken identity, or a fluke...”
He sent her a look that asked, You don’t really believe that, do you?
“Reid, I can’t—”
“Pen, I know you don’t want to believe it was your dad, but it comes down to this—are you willing to put your child at risk if all your doubts prove wrong?”
A shudder rolled through her. Despite her denials, her attempts to rationalize the irrational, in her gut she knew Reid was right. She couldn’t do anything that would put Nicholas in harm’s way. As incredible as it seemed, the evidence pointed to the frightening fact that—whether it was her father or not—someone had tried to kill her today. And they could try again.
Chapter 8
Reid took a circuitous route as he drove Pen and her son to his lake house. Knowing he could be followed, he made sure to watch his tail and take irregular turns, sometimes doubling back and quite often making zigzagging turns. Only when he was certain no one was tailing them did he drive to his property outside of the Dallas metro area. He’d bought the place several years earlier through a blind corporation he’d set up so he’d have a safe house to go to if one of his police investigations ever got too hot. He’d primarily used the lake house as a getaway when things at Colton Valley Ranch got too crazed, when he needed an escape from classic Colton-style drama.
Because he’d originally intended it to be a secure retreat when he felt his life was at risk from the enemies he made through his job, he’d taken extra measures at the lake house. A state-of-the-art alarm system, dead bolts, security cameras, secure Wi-Fi and reinforced windows. He’d spared no expense because...well, he could. He had his share of the Colton wealth at his disposal, and if he couldn’t spend it to create a safe zone for himself, a retreat where he could not only relax and rejuvenate, but do so in safety and luxury, then what was the point of having vast amounts of cash at his disposal?
His salary at the police department had been irrelevant to him. He’d worked because he’d have been bored living the life of a rich playboy. As a detective, he’d been challenged mentally and physically. The element of danger had appealed to his thirst for excitement, and the service he’d performed the community by arresting criminals and solving murders gave him a sense of purpose. That purpose was what he’d missed most in the past year. He hated feeling useless, hated knocking around the huge Colton estate and having no direction in his life.
His father’s disappearance had fueled his days in recent weeks, given him a mystery to puzzle out, but the lack of progress in finding the old man was proving an aggravation in more ways than one. Now, he supposed, he’d need to set aside Eldridge’s disappearance to look into who had shot up his truck. Knowing the elderly neighbor had called the police, Reid also knew there would be questions about why they’d left the scene. He’d be in touch with his contacts within the Plano PD to set things right there and find out as much as he could about the official investigation into the shooting.
But he wouldn’t leave the search for the shooter entirely to the police. Not when he had his own skills, his own insights and motivation to catch the person responsible. He’d not only find the shooter, but also the person who’d hired the gunman. Maybe that person was Hugh Barrington, maybe not. Either way, he had an itchy feeling that told him something significant was behind the attempt on his and Pen’s lives. The shooting wasn’t random.
He turned off the rural highway, down the narrow dirt path that was more like a cow trail leading to his lake house, and Pen sat taller on the backseat, her gaze darting about the isolated property. Fitting to his mood, a line of gunmetal clouds crept in from the north to blot out the December sun and cast the world in a dreary shadow. As they bumped down the rutted trail, branches from overgrown scrub bushes and winter-dead weeds scraped the sides of Pen’s Explorer like skeletal hands grabbing at them. The fingernails-on-blackboard screeching sent a shiver to Reid’s marrow.
Judging by the pained expression on Pen’s face, the noise, or maybe the implied damage to her SUV, unnerved her, as well.
“Sorry. I’ll spring for a new paint job when this is over,” he said, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.
She shook her head. “That’s the least of my worries right now. Where are we?”
“At a property I bought a few years ago for this very purpose.”
“You anticipated having someone trying to kill us?”
“Not you, specifically. But I figured in my line of work I could earn a dangerous enemy. Or need to hide a witness. Or...” He shrugged. “More often than not, I use it when I’m hiding from my family.”
She snorted a deprecating laugh. “Well, that I can understand. What I meant was where are we? We’ve been driving a long time.”
“Mmm-hmm.” He could tell his noncommittal hum of agreement didn’t appease her curiosity. If anything, his avoidance irritated her further. “Once I get you and pipsqueak settled, I’ll go into town to get you some things. Change of clothes or two, toiletries. Anything specific you want me to get you?”
“How about an answer to my question? Where are we?” Her scowl matched her tone.