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And more importantly, how did she know his name?
He waited for her to reach him. Manners drilled into him by his mother warred with the urge to jump in the car and peel out of the lot, leaving this woman just a memory in his rearview mirror. He rubbed the back of his neck with a firm hand. Enough.
“How can I help you?” he asked, the words coming out clipped.
The woman stopped a few feet away, panting as she tried to catch her breath. Up close, there was a fine sheet of perspiration on her upper lip.
“You’re Caleb Meyer?”
“Yes.” He bit back the impatient growl that threatened to escape, forcing his tone to remain neutral. “And you are?”
She ignored his question, her gaze sharpening. “I’m looking for Grace Bailey and I know she’s with you. I need to talk to her. It’s important.”
“Mitch told me you might help me.” The woman shifted her weight, readjusting a large bag slung over her shoulder. The movement drew Caleb’s attention to the press pass dangling from her neck, the laminated surface glinting in the harsh sunlight.
Caleb’s jaw locked. The last time he’d dealt with the press had been after Marie’s death, when the failed rescue had made headline news. They’d swarmed him like carrion birds, picking apart the story until nothing remained but bleached bones. It had taken every ounce of his strength to escape with his sanity intact. His opinion of reporters had not improved since.
“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear around here.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I really need to be going.”
The woman was undeterred. “Grace Bailey is in witness protection. The FBI safe house where she was staying was compromised. A detective died. Did you know that?”
Caleb swayed slightly. The pieces of the puzzle slotted into place with sickening clarity. He’d sensed Grace was holding something back, some vital piece of information that she couldn’t bring herself to share. But this... this was beyond anything he could have imagined.
Schooling his features into a mask of indifference, Caleb forced a shrug. “I don’t have time for idle gossip. Do you have a legitimate question?”
The reporter’s eyes flashed with impatience. “This isn’t gossip or some wild conjecture. Grace Bailey agreed to testify against her ex-boyfriend, Richard Hudson. He’s the biggest narcotics trafficker on this side of the Atlantic. Her testimony could put him behind bars for decades.”
Caleb’s hands knotted at his side. “You shouldn’t go around spreading lies about people just to get a story,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
But the woman rolled her shoulders, unfazed by his anger. “I’m not lying or making anything up.” She reached into her bag, then thrust a folded newspaper in his direction. “Look, see for yourself. That’s Grace, right there with her drug-smuggling boyfriend.”
His chest constricted, a dull ache blooming behind his ribs. He didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to think that the woman he cared for might be involved in something so dangerous without telling him.
But the evidence was right there in black and white, impossible to ignore.
The newsprint crinkled under his grip. He scanned the article, his eyes snagging on a photograph of Grace and a man he could only assume was Hudson. They looked happy, smiling at each other like any other young couple in love. But the accompanying text told a different story. Allegations of drug trafficking, money laundering, and worse leaped out at him, painting a chilling portrait of a criminal enterprise that spanned multiple continents.
Caleb tasted ash, his mind reeling as he tried to process the bombshell the reporter had dropped. With a jerky motion, he shoved the newspaper back at the woman, his fingers numb and clumsy.
She doggedly pursued him across the parking lot, her ridiculous heels clicking against the concrete. Her voice rose in pitch, frustration bleeding into every word, but Caleb tuned her out. Only one thought consumed him now: he had to get back to Grace. Knowing the caliber of men hunting her made his gut twist painfully.
The woman’s voice rose as she shouted after him. “What do you think about Grace Bailey bringing this kind of danger to Aurora Cove? Because Hudson is here now. You know that, don’t you?”
Caleb yanked open the driver’s side door with more force than necessary. Dolly’s welcoming woof was a faint noise under the blood pounding in his ears.
The woman closed in, relentless as a bloodhound on a scent. “Grace is in danger. And you might be the only person who can keep her alive long enough to testify. Meyer, if you know where she is, you have a civic duty?—”
Caleb dropped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door on her words. His thoughts churned in a dizzying spiral. The danger Grace faced was magnitudes worse than he’d considered, and she’d kept him in the dark, fed him a sanitized version of events, scrubbed clean of violence and hatred.
His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, his pulse pounding thudding in his temple. Betrayal warred with a fierce protectiveness in his chest, the two emotions knotting together until he could scarcely breathe.
Jamming the car into drive, he gunned the engine, and the car leaped forward. In the rearview mirror, he glimpsed the reporter hurrying back to her van, a camera man ready at the sliding door.
As he tore out of the lot, his mind raced ahead, mapping out contingencies and exit strategies. The ice in his veins had nothing to do with the chill Alaskan air and everything to do with knowing that he might already be too late.
Grace being economical with the truth stung. A sharp thorn lodged beneath his skin, but part of him acknowledged she had her reasons. The shame of falling under a man like Hudson’s control, of being blind to his true nature for so long. He could only imagine the weight of that burden.
In the past, he would have seized upon her secrets as an excuse to push her away, to retreat into comfortable solitude. But he realized with cold clarity he was no longer the same man he’d been before Grace burst into his life.
