Chapter Four

H e couldn't sleep. The case was part of it. But mostly Ellie's reaction to him—to Fred's truck—kept him awake.

Boone tossed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He'd finally gotten comfortable enough to sleep through most nights and not have the things he'd witnessed while working with the CIA come back to haunt him.

For a long time after he'd returned stateside, he couldn't let them go. He'd gone to visit his sister in Connecticut and spent some time with her husband, who was a minister. Tim had helped him see that holding onto the pain and ugliness he'd been running from for three years wasn't what God wanted for his life. He'd given them to the God of his childhood, and it had changed everything. Sometimes at night the faces of the victims crept into his head. On those days, he hit his knees and prayed.

Tonight, it was a different face that kept sleep away. Another troubled soul like he'd been, who was on the before side of what Boone had gone through himself.

With sleep no longer an option, Boone dressed in jeans and a black sweatshirt before leaving his garage apartment on Eli and Sashi's property.

Boone thought about the woman he'd run into outside Hopeful. His gut screamed she was a spy and running from something. Whatever it was, it wouldn't be good if that problem found its way here to their island.

A drive along the beach always helped clear his head. Tonight, though, the beauty of the ocean waves against the shoreline and the three-quarter moon hanging low over the water didn't have the quieting effect he'd hoped for. When he reached the turnoff leading into town, Boone kept going.

He found a place to park the pickup and opted to walk. Despite summer winding down, several restaurants remained on vacation-time hours still.

Almost ten, according to the time on his phone. Boone stopped in front of the Hopeful Coffeehouse. It stayed open until eleven during the summer months. He looked inside the window. Hank was leaning against the counter talking to Ellie. So that was why Ellie had wanted to speak to Hank. He'd forgotten about the help wanted sign that was no longer there.

Boone stepped inside, the bell above the door alerting the women to his presence. Hank beamed. Ellie's reaction was quite different and a reminder of how she'd reacted earlier when she'd heard Fred's truck backfire.

"What brings you out so late?" Hank asked as he approached.

Hank was a direct, no-holds-barred kind of person. She'd told him once that her father and her son had served in the military as well. He and Hank had connected during slow times at the coffeehouse.

They'd had quite a few heart-to-hearts. Hank had lost her son to the Afghanistan war. She told him she was grateful her father hadn't been around to live through the pain.

"Couldn't sleep." Boone said in way of an answer. He glanced to Ellie and nodded.

She didn't respond to his greeting.

"Pull up a chair. Ellie and I were just gabbing."

Boone's lips twitched. Ellie didn't appear to be the type to "gab." He dragged out one of the stools near the counter.

Hank, anticipating his wishes, poured black coffee before she crooked a thumb Ellie's way. "You two meet earlier?"

"We did." Ellie confirmed while casting a look Boone's way.

"Ellie's my new barista." Hank set a cup of coffee in front of him .

He faked surprise. "Really?"

Ellie couldn't have looked more ill at ease. "I thought I'd try something different." She shrugged and reached for her cup.

"Sounds like me. I'd never been a private investigator until I came here."

Her eyes widened without asking the question.

"Boone here joined the Hope Island Securities Team a few months back. And he's single." Hank gave him a wink.

He shook his head. Hank meant well, but he was too mixed up inside for a relationship. At least for the time being.

Ellie ignored the comment entirely.

"Well, I've shown you around the place and explained everything." Hank glanced out the window. "And I don't think we're going to see too many more customers tonight." She faced her new employee. "You feel up to closing the place for me?"

Ellie hesitated, clearly not wanting to be alone with Boone.

"Good." Hank dug out the extra key from her pocket. "I'll see you in the morning then. Bright and early." She removed her apron and fished her purse out from under the counter. "Be sure to lock the back door before you go."

Hank gave them a little wave then left.

Boone laughed despite the awkward situation. "Looks like you are officially a barista."

Ellie stared at the key in her hand before shaking her head. "I guess you're right." She refilled his cup and then hers. "What branch of military?"

He inclined his head. She'd sized him up too. "Navy SEAL." He left out the part about the CIA.

"Afghanistan?"

He looked at her curiously. "Some. Other places—other wars as well." He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask. "And you?"

Ellie immediately grew cautious. "I've done a lot of different jobs." Her answer could not have been more evasive. She wasn't ready to give the truth—she didn't trust him yet. He'd have to do something to fix that because he had a feeling Ellie needed someone she could truly talk to.

"What brought you to Hope Island?"

She kept watch out the window as if expecting someone. Boone recalled the men who spoke Arabic earlier. Were they here as simple visitors to the island or was there something else going on?

He'd sent his CIA contact Eli's photos of the men who had him worried. Boone had recognized them from earlier outside the coffeehouse and told Eli as much.

He'd been a bit surprised there hadn't been a hit on any of the Agency's databases. Regardless, the encounter had both him and Eli concerned. On a whim, he'd included the photo he'd taken of Ellie and was surprised when her image hadn't triggered in any of the databases. His gut told him she was a spy. He didn't believe for any of the US's intelligence agencies, but definitely somewhere.

Ellie pulled her attention away from the window to answer his question. "It seemed like a nice place to visit."

Visit. So, she had no long-term plans to stay and yet she had gotten herself a job.

He chuckled. "Normally, I'd say it is. Unless we keep getting more of those." He nodded toward the TV that Hank had set to the Weather Channel broadcasting twenty-four-seven coverage of the barrage of storms pummeling the small towns along the coast. "Are you just passing through then?"

She made eye contact. Surprise lived there. "Depends, I guess." She clearly didn't enjoy being questioned.

He continued to press for answers because he wanted to know. "On what?"

She blew out a sigh. The kind that came from deep down in your gut and carried the weight of a whole lot of bad history with it. "On a lot of things."

Every vague answer seemed to confirm he'd been right about her being on the run.

Boone decided to back off. By now, she hopefully understood he wasn't a threat. He polished off the last of the coffee he didn't need to keep him awake.

Ellie went to refill his cup, but he declined. "Another one, and I'll never fall asleep."

She smiled. "I can't remember the last time I slept through the night." It was a response made absently that kicked up his curiosity. Boone fought to keep from asking questions.

She poured herself another of what appeared to be a caramel espresso and then added rock sugar to it.

He'd only seen that type of drink once before during his travels. Israel. His curiosity skyrocketed. "What's that you're drinking?"

She shot him a wary look and told him it was called a Rocky Caramel. "Hank wants to add it to the menu." She shrugged. "It's been my favorite since my college days."

That she'd opened up as much as she had made him feel as if he'd put her at ease a little. "I never went to college." Her eyes widened, and he laughed. "I joined the Navy right out of high school. I just wanted to see the world. I figured there had to be more than Alaska." He faked a cringe.

"That must have been difficult." She kept her attention on his face.

It was. "It felt as if I'd been thrown into another world. My family owned a small cabin in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge."

Her confused expression confirmed she clearly hadn't heard of it.

"There are only a handful of private homes within the refuge. There's no electricity, no running water. We trapped and hunted. Fished. It's off the grid."

"A hard way to grow up."

"Sometimes. My brothers and I always fussed about getting around in the snow. But I wouldn't trade a moment of my time in Alaska."

Her face held a certain look of wistfulness as he talked about his family home. "Do they still live there?"

"My parents and older brother do. Jeff is married. He and his wife and three kids love the life. My two sisters and other brother, Caleb, have since moved to the Lower 48."

She appeared thoughtful before asking, "Do you visit them?"

He did. "As often as I can." Not exactly the truth. He'd been avoiding family get-togethers because of the questions that would inevitably come.

Boone rose and dug out a ten. He hadn't meant to reminisce about the past, especially with someone he barely knew. Ellie was a good listener.

She went over to ring him up, but he shook his head. "Keep it." Acting on an instinct that had brought him here in the first place, he pulled out his business card and handed it to her. "If you ever need . . . anything, my cell number's there on front."

The clock above the counter chimed off the time. Eleven. Closing time. "If you'd like, I can hang around until you lock up and walk you to your car."

A breath slipped from her parted lips. Clear relief flashed across her face, seemingly confirming the truth. Something—or someone—had Ellie spooked.

"That's awfully nice of you but I walked here."

She'd been at the coffeehouse since he'd met her earlier. She had to be dead tired.

"Then I'll give you a lift."

She hesitated. He got the feeling Ellie wasn't the type of person to accept help from anyone. He'd been there once. Boone certainly understood wanting to do things on your own. It gave you a sense of being in control.

A loud roar of laughter coming from the bar next door had her jumping.

"That would be nice," she said in a rush. "Thank you."

"No problem." Boone waited by the door while she shut down the coffeeshop and checked to make sure the back entrance was locked, as Hank requested, before joining him at the door.

"I'm ready."

Boone stepped out first and waited while she locked the front door. He pointed to his truck and they started walking side by side, he caught a waft of caramel on her breath and . . . something else. Coconut. Perhaps from her shampoo .

"How long have you lived on the island?" she asked while watching each passerby far more closely than normal.

"Not long. Maybe six months." Boone waited for the inevitable questions that didn't come. Ellie, of all people, understood there were some secrets that were best left buried.