Page 6 of Capturing You
She was staring through the trees at the house.
When he was a kid, the old three-story Victorian hadn’t been special. It’d simply been home.
After so many years away, he saw it with fresh eyes. Light-colored brick, steep roof with rounded shingles and gingerbread trim. Hexagonal turrets, eleven chimneys—fireplaces in every room, though most not functional now—and more gables than he’d ever bothered to count.
It was beautiful—if one could look past the peeling paint and sagging porches.
“It’s like we’re in another world.” The woman’s words were breathy with awe.
“A world five hundred feet from the one we just left. Come on.”
He wouldn’t hate it if she didn’t follow. The last thing he needed was to get distracted.
But he was afraid those men were still looking for her.
The gravity of the situation was dawning on him, and the truth was much darker than the sun brightening the summer day.
“Stay low and move fast.” He stepped out from between the trees, ducked to ensure he wouldn’t be spotted from the shore below, and bolted to the nearest side of the house. He tapped the code to unlock the door, pulled it open, then stood aside to let her enter first.
She looked at Forbes, then at the steep staircase leading down into darkness almost as thick as the cave’s. Licked her lips, which brought a reaction he was trying very hard to ignore. “Maybe I’ll just…uh…” She backed away as if he might be a threat.
He could let her fend for herself.
But now she knew about the cave. She knew Forbes was here.
He needed to figure out how to get her not to tell the whole town what she knew.
“Look, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have done it already.”
She blinked big, terrified eyes, taking another step back.
“You can trust me.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ford. Ford Baker.” Ironic, asking for her trust as he gave her his alias. But he’d used it most of his life, even if he’d never forgotten who he really was. “What’s your name?”
“Brooklynn Wright.” Reluctantly, she shook his hand.
“What were you doing out there?” He jutted his chin toward the ocean.
She hugged her bright purple canvas backpack to her chest. “I’m a photographer.”
As if that answered the question.
“I bet those guys are still looking for you.”
She darted a glance toward the woods, then in the direction of the driveway before meeting his eyes. “What were you doing there?”
“Taking a walk.”
She squinted. “I’d have seen you. You were in the cave. How did you know I was there? How did you know about the cave? Why would you?—?”
“Are you coming or not?” He didn’t owe her explanations, and he wasn’t going to force her into his house. But he had a job to do, and she could ruin everything. “If you want to risk those guys catching you, go ahead, but I’d rather keep my presence here secret. So if you decide to leave and somehow manage to survive, keep the cave—and my presence—to yourself.”
“Why?”
He blew out a long breath and crossed his arms, giving the door a pointed look.
He didn’t miss the fear in her expression.
“I use this door because it’s close.” And hidden from the driveway and from the shore, but he didn’t say that. No need to arouse more suspicion.
