Page 16 of Grave Peril

“So,” Rip said, leaning back as a sign that he wasn’t here to force her, “how about if you let me assist you?”

*****

Lela was in a tight spot. If this guy had found her, then others would too. She’d liked it better when she’d been alone, convinced that she’d been safe.

Now she looked into the eyes of a stranger, and he expected her to put her life in his hands. She studied Ripley McConnell and couldn’t make up her mind.

The guy was a stud; she’d give him that. He was about six feet and solidly built. She suspected that, under the leather jacket, he sported quite a bit of muscle. But he was rough around the edges. His black hair was long, dusting his shoulders. And he had a tiny earring in one ear, a few silver rings on his fingers, and wore cowboy boots.

It annoyed Lela that she found him handsome. He’d intruded on her life, barged in without being asked, and he just might get her killed. “So…who sent you?”

Rip shook his head. “No one, and your enemies don’t know about me.” He proceeded to tell her a far-fetched story about how he’d learned of her situation, then gone into action. Most suspicious was that he claimed the only reason he’d sought her out was to protect her.

Lela bit at her lower lip. “Okay, say for now that I believe you. There’s something that worries me.”

Rip squatted and sat on one of the steps. “What’s that?”

“How did you find me?”

“Reconnaissance is my expertise. I figured some stuff out about you. I had an idea how you’d think.” Rip shrugged. “Turns out…I was right.”

Lela threw her arms up. “Well, if you figured it out, then others will too.”

“Yes, but I got here first. And they aren’t as smart as I am, and don’t know this area like I do.” When she raised her brows, Rip added, “I was born and raised in Houston; still have family here. My younger brother is Houston PD.”

“What’s his name?”

“Axel McConnell.”

Lela wrapped her arms around her waist. “But others will find me?”

“Yes…eventually.” Rip didn’t qualify that statement.

“All right, if I let you help me—not that I said I would—what would you do?”

Rip wrinkled his brow. “Do you have a plan?”

Lela’s cheeks warmed. She’d played it tough, but she was vulnerable as hell. “No, this is as far as I got.”

“We need a safe place for you to stay, then we can strategize.”

“The priest let me stay the night; he has a spare room. He knows me. I’ve come to church here since I was a kid. But it’s not like I can move in.” Lela didn’t trust this guy. It was dangerous to trust someone she’d just met, ex-SEAL or not. But she was open to suggestions, since she was out of ideas.

“We shouldn’t stay longer than one more night, until I figure out our next move.” Rip held up his hand. “And don’t worry—I won’t invade your privacy.”

This was a poor idea. No matter how bad it got, Lela could handle things on her own. She didn’t need to drag some hunky bodyguard along with her. He was too much of a looker not to attract attention. And she needed to keep a low profile.

“I have to ask,” Lela said. “Why do you care?”

After a beat, he said, “I have my reasons. Let’s just say I don’t like standing by while a woman gets hurt.” He picked up his duffel bag and motioned toward the back door. “After you.”

Lela guided him to the kitchen and returned the knife. The noise in the hall announced the arrival of the children. “I offered to help serve lunch. I don’t want to be a freeloader.”

Rip grabbed a soup ladle. “Sounds like a good idea to me. Just tell me what to do.”

A few other kitchen workers were busy with preparations. The children came in and formed a line so lunch could be dished up. The priest came in and smiled at Lela.

“Good day, father.” Lela looked over at Rip, who was handing out apples. “I found someone to help us. He dropped by…used to be in the congregation.”

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