Page 93 of One Last Promise

Moose stood at the railing of the upstairs loft in his jeans and T-shirt, bare feet, listening as footsteps entered the hallway leading to the downstairs garages. Already, morning light gleamed through the two-story windows at the front of the great room, turning the oak floors to gold, casting over the white beams that crossed the expanse in the main room. The place had clearly been remodeled and given an updated shine, from the black leathered-granite countertops to the painted stone fireplace and the updated black-and-gold hanging ceiling fans.

He’d expected something a little morerugged country, with moose heads and cowhides. It did have bearskin rugs, but the rest was sleek and modern, set against crisp white walls, leather furniture, and white overstuffed chairs, along with a gray granite table that could seat his entire team and then some.

A deep deck jutted out from the great room and overlooked the ocean, now glistening with light.

The footsteps stopped right below the loft, and for a moment, he thought Oaken had returned home. When Moose had texted Oaken last night—he didn’t know where the singer had jetted off to for the weekend—Oaken had given him his code with the offer to stay as long as he needed.

Moose hoped he only needed one night. That somehow, getting the money from the bank’s safe deposit box this morning might allow him to negotiate with Rigger and even get the guy to head back to Miami.

Except, that wouldn’t erase Tillie’s attack on Flynn.

Or untangle her from the kidnapping charges.

The footsteps started again, and into the great room walked a dark-haired man dressed in a chamois shirt, a pair of jeans, and wearing a padded vest.

He carried a bag of food and set it on the counter.

Then the man looked up.

Shep.

What?

“Hey, boss,” Shep said. “Hungry?”

“Starved.”

Shep reached inside the bag. “Oaken gave me the code to this place when he closed. I’m his security alert contact. He texted me last night and said you were going to be here and not to call the cops. So I brought donuts and coffee instead.” He also pulled out a Styrofoam container. “And I picked up some egg muffins from theSunrise Grill.”

“Yum.”

The voice came from across the room, the doorway to the lower level bedroom. Tillie stood there, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a flannel shirt—clothes he’d picked up for her at a Walmart on their drive south.

Seemed like a better idea than trying to sneak back to the hospital to retrieve her car, if it was still in the parking lot.

Now she walked into the room, her long dark hair down, and slid onto a high-top stool.

Moose came down the stairs. “You’re Oaken’s security contact?”

“Yep,” Shep said and put water into a kettle to heat on the stove. “I always loved this place—you can see it from the road, just sitting up here on the hill. So I told Oaken about it, and of course, he nabbed it up. Tillie, do you prefer coffee or tea?”

“I’m an anything-that-has-caffeine girl,” she said and looked over at Moose as he settled on a stool. She seemed tired but less broken than last night.

Maybe it was just that she wasn’t holding a gun on him. That memory still sat in his bones, along with her story of Rigger, and Pearl and Hazel.

And her soft words that had landed like stones on his heart.“You’re such a . . . such a great guy. You’re always so calm.”

Right. Clearly she had no idea that he’d tossed the night away in the king-sized bed, staring through the skylight at the stars, reliving a few nights he’d like to forget.

“So, I heard about the fun and games at the hospital,” Shep said, grabbing muffins to heat in the microwave. “Flynn’s okay, by the way.”

How Moose wanted to step between Tillie and Shep’s words. But Tillie hadn’t exactly filled him in on the details of her escape, so . . .

“Was she hurt?” Moose kept his voice low.

Tillie’s mouth tightened and she looked away. “I triednot to hurt her?—”

“She wasn’t hurt. Just stunned. And bruised—and surprised.” Shep pulled out a coffeepot and a drip filter. “Clearly she wasn’t expecting you to sweep out her feet and run.”

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