“Are you sure?” That made no sense.
“The guy from yesterday was lying on his side, so I couldn’t really see the face, but I saw his black pants and dress shoes. The body they picked up this morning was wearing jeans. No. Shoes.” She leaned in and whispered, “The coroner said the guy hadn’t been dead long. Killed last night. How’s that for fucking weird?”
Oh God. My mind leaped to the most obvious conclusion: The man who helped me, whoever he was, had thrown Randall’s body in the metal box.
But why? And what did he do with the other body?
My face was likely puke green, because Rosie gave my arm a squeeze. “Don’t worry, hon. I talked to Mr. Ripley already. He’s got some security guys coming down from Tallahassee to keep an eye on things. Until then, the National Guard said they can spare a few warm bodies.”
My stomach clenched. I wished she wouldn’t use the word bodies. And I wasn’t sure how she could be so calm about all this. The situation was beyond terrifying.
“Don’t worry, Jeni. We’ll be okay.”
I nodded. Mostly because my quota for conversation had been reached for the day, but also because I just wanted to get my work done and leave.
“You really aren’t feeling good, are you?” She pressed her hand to my forehead. “Let’s get those forms figured out so you can go back to your motel to rest.”
“Thanks.” I followed her up the stairs, inside the trailer.
“Oh, damn. I forgot about you. Sorry, babe,” said Rosie.
A man stood inside the trailer, next to her desk. He was tall with thick dark hair and beautifully sculpted cheekbones.
“Not a problem,” he said, his voice deep and silky.
“This is Jeni, by the way.” Rosie gestured toward me. “She helps out with expediting equipment parts and our insane amount of paperwork.”
“Jeni.” He dipped his head in salutation.
“Jack came looking for work this morning,” Rosie explained. “Just our luck since stupid Randall didn’t show up.” Rosie gave the tall man a smack on the shoulder.
He didn’t react. Instead, his gaze steadied on my face, and I couldn’t pull my eyes off his elegant features, including his stunning blue eyes. He was tall, well-built, and lean—the sort of man who was far too beautiful to be wearing red flannel and muddy boots.
My stomach jumped into my throat. I knew those boots. One of them had been wedged in my car door last night. Shit. Those are Randall’s.
Our gazes locked once more. The flicker in his piercing blue eyes led me to believe that he knew what I was thinking.
Slowly, he inclined his head, as if to say, You’re welcome.
Every hair on my neck and arms stiffened. This was the man who killed Randall last night.
Why was he here?
What did he want?
I spent the rest of the morning resubmitting forms, which took forever due to the slow satellite internet system. Meanwhile, my mind was never far from Jack, if that was really his name.
Not that it mattered. Because even now, as he worked outside with the crew, helping to load scrap metal onto trucks, I felt his presence all around me. Didn’t help that Rosie kept going on and on about him.
“He looks like that Italian actor,” she’d said. “The one from that dirty movie—365-whatever.”
I knew the one, but this man made that Mafioso’s character look like a cuddly teddy bear.
Around noon, I was done with my critical work and decided I couldn’t handle being there a second longer. The situation was no longer about the police or not drawing attention. The man outside was disturbed. He’d helped me, yes, but from the screams I’d heard last night, he’d taken his time killing Randall. He’d made it hurt. Then he’d smashed in his face and took his boots, afterward removing a rotting corpse from a crime scene.
What had he done with that poor man’s body?
I said goodbye to Rosie and told her to try my cell if she needed me. Otherwise, I’d check in tomorrow. “Maybe,” I told her.
She gave me a look, like she suspected I wasn’t coming back. Honestly, I had no attachment to her or this job. It was work. The money was good. But I didn’t feel safe here.
I grabbed my purse and stepped outside, my eyes scanning the port, which looked more like a war zone. Thankfully, the crew, including Jack, was on the other side of the damaged containers.
Time to go. And never look back.
I hurried around the trailer to my car, skidding to a halt. Fuck.
Leaning against my car door, his arms crossed over his wide chest, was the man, Jack.
I suddenly couldn’t move my feet. Likely because I wasn’t sure if I should run. On the other hand, if he wanted to harm me, I doubted he’d do it in broad daylight where people were constantly coming and going.
“Sh-shouldn’t you be working?” I asked in my usual quiet voice.
“On my break,” he said.
No, he wasn’t. He was waiting for me. “Well, if you don’t mind,” I muttered pathetically, “I’m not feeling well. I need to go.”
He arched a dark silky brow. A man with such elegant features seemed completely out of place here in the ruins of a hurricane.
“How is your back?” His bland tone lacked sincerity.
I wasn’t going to answer. I wasn’t going to discuss last night. Instead, I stared, praying he’d take pity on me and move out of my way. He didn’t.
“What do you want?” I looked down at the muddy ground. It was uncharacteristically bold of me to ask a question like that, but the fear in my heart felt like a sobering drug—the kind that made a person feel awake and alert rather than groggy and high.
In contrast to me, Jack’s voice boomed with confidence, like he couldn’t give two fucks about what anyone thought. “I am in need of a favor.”
Whatever the hell this favor was, I wasn’t interested in hearing it. I just wanted to leave.
“I-I can’t help you. Please get out of my way.” I met his gaze, my fear speaking now.
His eyes narrowed like a menacing predator. After several moments, he lifted his body from my car and stepped aside, just far enough to grant me access to the driver’s side door.
I couldn’t take this anymore. Being near him was terrifying. I had to go for it. I hit unlock on the remote and went for the door handle. His hand shot out and covered mine.
“Let go…” A cold sensation spiked through my arm and into my chest, like frozen barbs. My knees almost gave out.
“You will help me, Jeni,” he said, his deep voice like a rumble beneath my feet, shaking my foundation.
What was that? “Please. Let go,” I whispered in a pathetic, subdued voice. I hated that my weak shell didn’t match my interior. I knew I was smart and resilient. I’d lived through the worst kind of garbage life had to offer. But with the way I acted, you’d think I was a piece of dog shit, waiting to be stepped on.
“The police are about to call your friend Rosie there. They have seen the security footage of you speeding out of here at the time of Randall’s death, and they will be wondering what you are hiding.”
“Nothing. I was attacked.” My eyes darted to his, and when I stared into their cobalt blue depths, I saw something swirling inside. Charcoal grays and midnight black. “Who are you?” I asked, really thinking another question, one I dared not speak. What was he?