Chapter 33

The distinctive blast yanked Hawthorne back to his Marine Corps days. That sound. The damage and havoc it wreaked.

Explosives.

Jazz was supposed to be on that trail. Close.

Hawthorne took off, sprinting away from the lookout onto the three-foot-wide trail.

Barks, like those he'd heard right before the blast, came from somewhere around the curve ahead.

A black and tan body whizzed into view.

Flash.

The dog locked his stare on Hawthorne and barked repeatedly.

"Where is she, Flash?"

The K-9 spun and took off.

Hawthorne raced to keep up, tearing around the curve bordered by trees on both sides. He frantically scanned the path ahead as it straightened.

Jazz.

He froze. Staring.

Her body lay on the ground.

His heart stopped. Was she dead?

Barks answered the horrible question. Flash wouldn't be getting help if she were dead. Would he?

Hawthorne pushed his legs forward, fear of what he might see up close holding him back.

Chunks and splinters of wood mingled with scattered piles of dirt on the ground.

A slim tree lay across the path, blocking his access to Jazz. Its trunk was splintered and cracked.

He jumped over it as Flash must have done, adrenaline hitting his bloodstream and overcoming his trepidation. "Jazz!"

He jogged to her.

Flash stopped barking as Hawthorne neared, whining with a single wag of his tail.

Hawthorne stopped next to—

Jazz raised her hand off the ground.

"Jazz." Hawthorne's heart lurched, and he dropped to his knees beside her. She was alive.

She braced her elbow against the ground as if trying to sit up.

He slid an arm around her back and helped her. His chest squeezed at the sight of the small, bloody cuts that scratched her cheek and forehead. "You probably shouldn't move."

But she drew in her legs to stand anyway. Stubborn woman.

He kept his arm behind her back and lifted her to her feet. Then without another thought, he pulled her into an embrace, cradling her against his chest.

He couldn't help it. She could've died.

So that's what he said as he caressed her silky hair with his thumb. "I thought you might be dead."

She leaned her head back and brought her gaze up to his. Something shimmered in her emerald eyes. Tears? Was she hurt?

"I'm sorry." He loosened his hold around her, lowering his hands to gently brush down her arms. "Are you injured?"

She shook her head, watching him with what looked like wonder. Maybe her head injury had left her a little confused.

His hand went to her face, cupping her cheek as his thumb neared one of the red marks. "Your face is scratched. Are you sure you aren't hurt anywhere else?"

"Pretty sure." Her gaze didn't leave his.

She was breathtaking. Twigs in her mussed ponytail and scratches and dirt smudges on her face couldn't do a thing to diminish her stunning beauty. Or the effect she seemed to be having on him.

A well-timed whine from Flash drew Jazz's attention to the dog. And reminded Hawthorne he'd better rein in his emotions. She was okay. And he was still romantically unavailable.

"Thanks for saving my life, partner." Jazz crouched face-to-face with the K-9 and rubbed his head and ears with both hands. "Again." She pressed a kiss on top of the dog's head, then stood, looking in the direction of the damage on the trail. "That was close."

He couldn't have picked a better heroine. She'd nearly been killed, and she was as calm and cool as ever. "What exactly happened?"

"I don't think it was a land mine since Flash warned me before either of us triggered it. Probably a buried IED."

A run-of-the-mill homemade bomb. Not very friendly.

"Had to be remote detonated since nobody would know when I'd be here. Unless it was meant for someone else." Her tone said she didn't consider that a realistic theory. She shot her gaze to Hawthorne. "Did you see anyone at the lookout?"

"One hiker was headed onto this trail as I arrived." Hawthorne recalled the man in jeans, boots, gray T-shirt, and baseball cap. He'd only seen the man from the back. "At least I assumed he was a hiker."

"He was coming down this way?"

"Yes." Hawthorne clenched his jaw as he looked past the wreckage the explosion had left on the trail. "And I bet I ran right past him on my way to you. He probably hid off the trail."

"Flash and I will find him." She turned toward her K-9 but swayed.

Hawthorne reached for her and braced her arms. "Hold on. You're in no condition to go anywhere. And I guarantee he's already gone. He wouldn't be hanging out to wait for the rescue squad and police."

"But Flash can track him." She pressed her hand to her forehead as if it hurt.

"Maybe. But you can't right now." He tried to guide her in the other direction. "Come sit down and rest for a bit."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"Is it ridiculous to want to take care of you?"

She dropped her hand, allowing him to see her eyes. Her brows lowered as she peered at him. "I don't know. No one ever has."

The lonely shadow in her eyes felt like a kick to his gut. He didn't know how to respond. What to say or do. He'd already said too much. Implied too much.

He tried for a smile. "Then enjoy the moment. And sit down before you fall down, will you?"

She gave him a mock glare and lowered to sit on the gravel and dirt path, Flash moving in close to nudge her face with his nose.

Hawthorne pulled out his cell phone and called emergency services in case no one elsewhere in Whitlow Park had reported the sound of the explosion.

"We can't just sit here." Jazz looked at Hawthorne as he ended the call and dropped to the ground a few feet from her.

"We can, and we should. The lady on the phone said I need to keep you still and quiet until the ambulance gets here and they check you out."

"Who made her the boss?"

He grinned at her ready humor, even in the face of near death. "I don't know how to answer that."

"Thought so."

"But I do have the answer to the question I wanted to ask you."

"What was that?"

"I was going to ask if that ‘flat tire,'" he made air quotes with his fingers around the mythical label, "was the only incident like that you've had happen lately."

She stared at him a moment.

Was she going to deny what they both knew to be true? She'd tried to pass it off as nothing before.

"Now you know."

Good. She trusted him enough not to hide that she was in danger. But the confirmation of what he'd suspected affected him more than he had anticipated. Someone wanted to hurt Jazz. Maybe kill her.

A rush of something he couldn't identify rolled through him in a hot wave, seeping into his muscles and limbs. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped. I could have…" His voice trailed off as the thought finished in his mind. He could have protected her.

Is that what the strange feeling was? Protectiveness?

He'd never felt it like that for anyone before. Maybe a hint of wanting to give Rebekah some brotherly advice recently. But not this powerful, almost angry emotion that made him want to shield Jazz from danger and take down anyone who'd even think about hurting her.

Man. He needed to leave. Maybe sooner than he'd planned. He was starting to care about her way too much.

And she was starting to look at him like she knew. As if she saw how much he cared.

He had to fix this. Had to make it clearer he wasn't in the market for a relationship. But in a way that didn't hurt her.

Because the hope he'd accidentally given her was written all over her lovely face.

He looked away and cleared his throat. "I wondered because I've been getting some of the same treatment."

"You have?" Surprise lifted her tone.

"Threatening note, and then my brakes were cut last night."

She sucked in an audible breath. "Were you hurt?"

He couldn't help but look at her again when she asked the question with concern squeezing her voice. "No. I'm fine. But—" He stopped just short of saying he was concerned about her. He'd made enough of that kind of mistake for one day. "But I'm thinking whoever is going after me could be the same person after you."

"Oh." Something passed in her eyes. Doubt? Or maybe she was simply processing the idea.

"It seems likely to be someone who doesn't want us to get any closer to finding the truth."

"But about the sabotage or Sam?"

"I don't know." He kept his gaze from meeting hers. Easier to feel less and show less if he didn't look at her so much. "Whoever it is could know you're helping me investigate Sam's death."

"You mean someone from the cult." She paused, but he didn't give in to the temptation to glance her way. "Maybe Randall? Or someone who found out I'd asked him about Sam? He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to keep his mouth shut."

"If it's about Sam, the person is right to be worried about what we'll find. I just talked to the friend Sam was with at the fair."

"You're kidding."

The excitement of having more of a trail to follow thrummed through Hawthorne's bloodstream. "I have a last known location on the fairgrounds now. And more reason to believe Sam wouldn't have gone to the Logboat Adventure ride alone. Even drunk, he'd only gone on the ride earlier because of peer pressure. And he hadn't expressed any plans to go back."

"That's wonderful."

"I'm going to visit the smoking area where Sam was last seen. From what his friend told me, Sam had planned to return to his pals. But he never made it." Hawthorne finally allowed himself a glance in her direction. "I hope you and Flash can help me search the area. Hopefully find something. It's a longshot for evidence to still be there. But getting the lay of the land and playing out possible scenarios could lead to a breakthrough." He smiled. "I might finally be able to solve this case."

"That would be…great."

He caught the wistfulness in her voice that he now realized had been there in her previous comment, too.

Sirens sounded in the distance, likely from the ambulance or police headed their way.

But it was too late for the kind of rescue Hawthorne probably needed most. Someone to extract him from the situation he'd gotten himself into.

A hint of sadness settled around Jazz's mouth, but the hope he'd read on her face before was still there.

Guilt swelled in his throat. He'd better solve Sam's murder fast.

He needed to get as far away from Jazz Lamont as possible in the next day or two if he could get out of his security contract. Because there was no way he could give her the relationship he was starting to suspect she wanted.

And he was afraid, given the emotion in her eyes that he didn't dare define, he was going to have to break her heart.