Page 19 of Hunted in Hope Town

And a wall that outlined a group of mobsters who’d threatened her.

IT WAS JUST a touch. On his arm. And it swept through Ellis like wildfire. It took every last ounce of strength not to reach out and grab her to him. Relief and need.

He hadn’t had sex in two damn years, of course he was a little…bottled up. Particularly when it was his wife touching him, no matter how innocently, which also hadn’t happened in two years.

He’d settle for just holding her, he thought. Just feeling the weight of her in his arms. Her hair against his cheek. If he could just…

He shook his head as if he could shake away the sweepingly painful ache and want inside of him. He jerked open the fridge to survey what was inside. Nothing perishable. Which made sense, but he felt damn stupid closing it again without pulling anything out. But pickles weren’t exactly breakfast fare, were they?

He let out a sigh and closed the door anyway, then poked around the cabinets. He found some oatmeal packets that could be made in the microwave with just water.

She came out of the room and walked into the kitchen. “I’ll make more coffee,” she announced.

He nodded, so they moved silently around the kitchen—her filling the coffeepot, him making oatmeal. Not touching. Not saying anything.

And yet he could remember a million mornings spent together where they would have done just this but talked. Touched. Enjoyed simply…being together.

They filled bowls, poured mugs, and moved to the table. She sat across from him and neither drank nor ate. She just frowned at the food.

“So are we just setting up house up here until they catch the guy?” she asked.

“Undetermined. First, we need to identify who left this letter. The only possible explanation that we can come up with is that it came from one of the guys from the crime family I infiltrated who aren’t in jail. But we need to know which one, why, and what their end goal is if they gave us a warning?”

“How are you going to determine that from up here?”

“I’m not. It’s up to Zach.”

“Then what’s that little crime wall you’ve got going on in your room?”

He chuckled in spite of himself. “Me being a control freak.” Not being able to let anything go.

Except he thought of all the things he’d had to let go over the past two years. Yeah, he’d learned some damn hard lessons.

“Does this put Zach in danger? And Lucy and Cooper and Rylie and—”

He reached across the table and put his hand over hers, even if it hurt a little. She needed some…anchoring. “Zach knows what he’s doing. He’s been doing this a long time. He knows the risks, if there are any for him. And he’ll protect his family. He wouldn’t live and work in Hope Town if he couldn’t.”

She swallowed, pulled her hand out from his. She dropped it into her lap so there was no chance he’d touch her again, clearly. “Right. That whole town… All those women… Former FBI.”

She sucked in a breath when he nudged the bowl toward her. A silent plea to eat something.

She nodded, then lifted the spoon, but just swirled it in the oatmeal. “I just don’t understand. Why would they warn you? If someone dropped that off at my apartment, if this is the threat you think it all is, couldn’t they have taken me out right then?”

The thought of it killed him, but he’d had the same one living in his head since she’d handed him that letter. And he had enough experience with criminals, and the Carusos in particular, to have at least some of a theory. “Whoever it is could have. If the goal was to kill you, they likely would have.”

“You and Zach both said this is a threat to me. Why wouldn’t they want to kill me then?”

“The Carusos see my infiltration of their organization and case against them an insult. So, they’d like me to suffer—which means they’d probably like to draw out any threat to you. But I also have to believe…the life we’ve created for you in Hope Town was safe. Safe enough, they couldn’t really get to you. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I think…” He didn’t want to scare her, but they were hiding out—wasn’t that scary enough?

“I don’t think they would kill you if they could get to you, but I think if they could have, they would have taken you. Tortured you to torture me. This was the closest they could get.”

“If I was safe, why bring me up here?”

“Safety is an illusion. It never lasts.”

“That’s dire.”

“That’s life in the FBI.”