Page 2 of The Making of Marnie Jones

His attempt to placate wasn’t going to sway her. “You now have two minutes. Make it quick.”

He opened his mouth.

A squeal of tires signaled a new arrival.

Marnie started hurrying toward the SUV.

The guy finally spoke. “Olivia Bater.”

She stopped her flight mid-step and froze. All the relief she felt at the arrival of the police vanished. She closed her eyes.

Anything.

Anything but that.

“Marnie?”

She opened her eyes. Her savior faced her.

“Is this the guy?” RCMP Constable Seth Jacobs gestured toward the interloper.

Laying her hand on Seth’s forearm, she finally took a deep breath. Her first non-terror-filled thought had to do with a young woman. “He is, but I might’ve been hasty in calling for help.”

“Do you know him?”

She looked over her shoulder at the stranger before turning back to Seth. Even though she owed the police officer complete honesty, curiosity gnawed at her. “No.”

“Then you did the right thing in calling me.”

She flexed her hand, trying to keep Seth from pushing forward. As if she could hold back the six-foot tall, solidly muscled man. Even in civilian clothes he intimidated, and her hand was the only thing restraining him.

She glanced back again. The other guy stood confident as ever. If he hadn’t been so arrogant, she might’ve admired his moxie. Still, she was unnerved. He’d come to her home, and his attention was unwelcome.

But he’s here because of Olivia.

“I knew I ought to call you, and I'm thankful you made it here quickly.” His speed in arriving had been nothing short of miraculous, and her heartbeat was slowly returning to normal.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“I figured as much.” She softened. “I’ll talk to him.”

Seth met her gaze. “Let me talk to him first.”

“So you can put the fear of God in him?”

For the first time, his expression lightened. “No, ma’am. Just the fear of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”

She managed a small smile, more to herself than to him, as he was already making his way over to the guy, pulling out his badge. She still didn't know the stranger’s name. Seth would, as soon as he scrutinized the guy’s driver’s license.

The first time she met the constable was a week after she moved in. She reported a break-in. Terrified they’d found her, she told Seth who she’d been—Laura Derks—and why she’d changed her name and appearance.

The police quickly caught the two local hoodlums too stupid to wear gloves while thieving.

That event had cemented her connection to Seth.

He dropped by periodically to make sure she was okay.

Such a good and honorable man. A reminder that decent men existed in the world—that not every man was a monster. His blond hair was much lighter than the stranger’s—and shorter—a crewcut she assumed all police were required to have. His face was unreadable.

---