Every Step She Takes (Who's Watching Now Book 2) Read Free Page B

in a cluster close to shore.
    “It’s gorgeous.” A female voice spoke from behind him, presumably Judith.
    Her sister was quick to agree. “Breathtaking.”
    The van rolled to a stop in front of the lodge. One by one, the passengers extracted themselves. Twisting his shoulders, Travis stretched to ease tight muscles, then took a long look around. A single canoe with two occupants floated in the middle of the lake, fishing lines trailing in the water. The two older gentlemen, he guessed. A burly fellow with a full beard followed by a short, plump woman walked out onto the porch and called out a greeting in the still afternoon as the screen door slapped shut behind them. Undoubtedly their hosts. There was no sign of the family the driver had mentioned—or Sutton.
    Grace stood with her hands fisted on her hips, surveying her new surroundings. Bright sunlight gleamed on long, mink-brown hair. Perfectly straight, it hung in a fall over her shoulders. So sleek, it looked like she ironed it. With those amazing emerald eyes and high cheekbones, the woman was stunning. Too bad he wasn’t here to start something he wouldn’t have time to finish.
    The thought left him feeling deflated.
    Grabbing his duffle bag, he crossed the gravel drive to the wide, weathered front porch of the lodge. The sooner he settled in, the sooner he could go looking for Sutton. Instinct urged him to find the man fast and get him far away from Moose Lake.
    The skin on the back of his neck prickled as he glanced over his shoulder at his companions still standing in the yard. The drone of bees in a tub of petunias near the porch blended with birdsong from the surrounding forest. The lazy atmosphere reminded him of summer days camping with his dad when he was a kid. Idyllic. Yet the uneasy feeling persisted. None of the lodge guests looked like a threat, but complacency could get him—and Sutton—killed. Until he was safely away with his charge, he had to assume everyone had a hidden agenda.
    His gaze locked on Grace. Her eyes narrowed as she looked toward a winding path disappearing into a grove of western hemlock. Wearing a pair of pristine white pants and a sleeveless top that hugged her curves and displayed toned arms, she was every man’s wet dream. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. She probably had no connection to Sutton, but her mere presence was a distraction he couldn’t afford.
    Despite the attraction he felt for her,— hell, because of it —staying clear of Grace Hanover was a must.
     

Chapter 3
     
    Grace rolled her suitcase through the doorway and glanced around the spartan room. A single bed spread with a patchwork quilt, a small dresser and a desk with a straight back chair. Not exactly the Ritz. A rag rug covered a portion of the wide plank flooring, and a door in the corner presumably led to a private bathroom. Thank God she wouldn’t have to share. No story was worth that indignity.
    Flopping onto the bed, she kicked off her shoes and closed her eyes. A nap before dinner sounded like heaven, though she knew she should go looking for Sutton. There’d been no sign of him downstairs or on the grounds of the property. A look through the old-fashioned registration book when she checked in hadn’t revealed his name. Not that the feds would be stupid enough to sign him in under his real identity. The lone entry with any promise was for a man named Mark Johnson.
    Not very original, but he had registered three weeks before, which was about the time the initial story about Sutton broke. If Mark Johnson wasn’t Casey Sutton and she’d come all this way for nothing... She pressed fingers to temples niggling with the beginnings of a headache.
    If this turned out to be some elaborate wild goose chase, she swore to dismember Tia slowly and feed her piece by piece to the sharks.
    On a groan, she levered off the bed and searched her purse for a bottle of aspirin. Too bad napping wouldn’t get her the story. No time like the present to