Page 25 of Island Whispers

He didn’t want her getting the wrong idea—that he might be trying to recreate their one-night stand. All he wanted from tonight was to give her a break.

And if he got lucky and she opened up, that would be a fantastic bonus.

She talked enthusiastically about her business plans for Island Bloomers, but she didn’t volunteer any details about why she’d walked out on the night he couldn’t forget.

As she yawned, he urged her to take a nap. “No. I’m fine. I can sleep in tomorrow. If you want, crank up the radio. Whatever you need. It can be a pain to stay awake on these two-lane state roads at night.”

She wasn’t wrong. The tall trees cast heavy shadows and the minimal traffic, along with the sounds of the tires on the pavement was a sleep-inducing melody.

“You don’t need to worry about me falling asleep at the wheel,” he assured her. Staying alert was part of the job, ingrained in him after years of training and practice.

“Why did you go into personal security?” she asked.

“Guardian Agency showed me an employment path that I couldn’t resist. I travel for cases and get the opportunity to decompress after a job is finished.” The pay and excellent benefits package were a huge boon as well. “It’s like the best of both worlds,” he added. “Plenty of work challenges and plenty of time to see my sister and her family.”

“I bet you’re a favorite uncle.”

“Technically, I’m the only uncle. Becky, my sister, is married to an only child.”

Nina snorted. “He could have a hundred brothers and you’d be the favorite.”

Why argue with her good opinion?

“Is that what you were doing the night we met?” she asked. “Were you decompressing?”

“Yes.”

She went quiet and he searched for what he’d said wrong. “I was decompressing in the club, enjoying the show without being on alert for trouble. Hooking up isn’t a standard piece of my decompression routine.”

The sound she made was impossible to interpret.

“Nina.”

His phone rang and Nina reached for the device. “It’s Jess.”

“Put it on speaker, please.” He needed to keep his focus on the road. “Reynolds here,” he answered. “You’re on speaker.”

“Nina is with you?” Jess asked.

“I’m here,” Nina replied. “Do you have news?”

“Not what you’re probably hoping for,” Jess began. “Only that Spratt was spotted in Charleston, not far from the ferry stop near the aquarium. He managed to evade capture.”

Nina swore and Boone managed to smother a laugh. The vocabulary did not fit the woman.

“What’s their plan?” he queried. “They have to know where he’s staying.”

“Not so far,” Jess grumbled.

“Are they giving you the runaround?” It wouldn’t surprise him. Police departments and private investigators didn’t always get along. But Jess had been a cop—although in Florida, not South Carolina—and he expected her to have better insight when communicating with authorities.

“They don’t want to share details and that’s understandable,” she replied. “While they appreciate us taking the lead with Nina’s safety, they don’t want me nosing around.”

“Everything’s a balancing act,” Boone said. “Where does that leave us?”

“I have agency resources combing the area for any sign of him or his last known associates,” Jess said. “We will continue to monitor every access to the island as well.”

In the passenger seat, Nina folded her arms, her lips pressed together hard. Boone would love to know what she was thinking. Then again, it wasn’t hard to guess. She surely wanted Spratt in custody so she could get back to her life.

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