Page 45 of Indecent Proposal

Ace. The sniper. Was a woman.

None of Susan’s photos of her travels on Instagram had her picture in them. She didn’t take selfies or ask other people to take pictures of her. I’d gotten the impression she was camera shy, which fit her behavior when I saw her. But no, someone had just been a very, very good actress. Someone had called me as Susan and met with me, giving me false information, claiming that it wasanothercompany that was suspicious—trying to get me to look outside of Hardman.

If I hadn’t followed my gut, I might’ve been running around in circles for weeks. Fuck.

Oh, Ace was good. She was very good. She’d met me in person and I’d had no clue that she was a cold blooded killer, a combatant as seasoned as myself. She must’ve had access to company files or even security footage from Hardman of the real Susan so that she could play her part properly. And she hadn’t made the misstep that a lot of people did, which was trying to insert herself too much into the investigation. She’d simply played her little part and then sat back to watch what happened.

But if Ace had gotten this close to me—did that mean she’d followed me or tracked me somehow without me knowing?

I knew that it wasn’t logical. I had been careful and I was good at knowing when someone was tailing me. But she’d already gotten the jump on me once. Who was to say that she wouldn’t do it again?

I silently cursed the fact that I couldn’t call Claire and warn her. Such an act might allow Ace to trace the call and get to the cabin. I would just have to put on the live feed and drive to the cabin, hoping that nothing would happen along the way.

I hurried back down to my Jeep and pulled up the security footage from the cloud.

The signal came up as static. No longer working.

Shit.

CHAPTER17

Claire

Iwoke up to the delicious smells of egg, tomato, and spices.

Turning over, I reached my hand, feeling that the other side of the bed was only faintly warm. I wasn’t surprised. It just made sense that Vaughn would be an early riser.

Opening my eyes, I stretched and saw that the cabin was empty. A few things were missing, like Vaughn’s boots.

I sighed. He’d headed out already, then. I stifled the curl of disappointment in my stomach. I knew that he would have to leave. He wasn’t sneaking out to avoid me and then ghost me when I tried to text or call. He had to go back and check up on things for my own damn safety.

Still. I missed him.

I felt like a door had opened with us and I wanted to step through and explore what was on the other side. And maybe I was reading things wrong, but I felt like Vaughn sensed that door too. I felt like he wanted to step through it with me.

He did make me breakfast, which was thoughtful and sweet of him, so there was that. I chose to have hope.

I got up, switched out his shirt for shorts and a tank top, then went over to the oven. I inhaled deeply of the rich, redolent scent wafting in the air. Mmm, shakshuka. I pulled it out of the oven and served myself. It was crazy delicious.

It was such a small, random thing, but Richard had rarely wanted to cook. I didn’t judge someone on whether or not they liked cooking, but there had been that expectation that I would play hostess, and that I would take care ofhim. That I would organize fancy meals and parties and cater to his needs. When had he ever just done something nice for me, without expecting anything in return?

Meanwhile, Vaughn cooked for me because he wanted to, no strings attached, and I couldn’t deny that it made me feel cared for, like I was special in some way. It wasn’t at all what I would’ve expected from Vaughn when I first met him, but I was finding there were layers of consideration and thoughtfulness under that cocky exterior.

I finished eating breakfast, cleaned up the kitchen, and then organized the cabin a bit. It had gotten a bit messy while we’d been… well. Focused on other things.

It took me a moment to notice it. Probably because it wasn’t a new sound, but rather the absence of a sound, something that was such a background hum that I didn’t consciously register it. But I paused while making the bed, feeling like something was different.

What was it?

I turned to look around. The microwave was still showing the time, and if I concentrated I could hear the hum of the refrigerator, so those were both still working. That meant the electricity wasn’t out.

I looked over at the keypad on the inside of the door.

It no longer had the light on that meant it was armed.

It wasn’t green either, though. It was just—off. Not locked or unlocked. Just. Off.

But the electricity was on, so it wasn’t a power failure. That meant…

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