Page 6 of High Velocity

I grab the bottle he hands me over my shoulder and walk around the table to sit down next to Janey, so I’m facing Stephanie. Except her eyes are on her hands, which are clasped together on the table in front of her.

Ash, who lumbered in behind us is doing the rounds, getting rubs from Janey, growls from Ginger. Then he discovers Stephanie, a new-to-him human he’s eager to explore with nose and tongue. Her soft chuckle when he jumps with his front legs on her lap, so he can reach her face, has me smiling too.

“Sorry. His name is Ash and I’m trying to teach him manners,” I volunteer

She raises her eyes and sends a faint smile.

“He’s fine. I happen to like dogs.”

Definitely a point in her favor.

“Also, I apologize for the early morning disturbance,” I add.

“No problem. I was awake anyway.” She abruptly gets up from the table. “Which is why I should probably get going.”

“Wait,” Janey stops her as she’s already moving toward the door. “Let me grab you some elk.”

Stephanie waits awkwardly by the door while Janey digs through her freezer drawer, and I take a sip of my beer during the loaded silence.

“Here you go,” she says, joining Stephanie at the door and handing her a paper bag.

With a hug for Janey and a quick wave at us, she darts outside.

“What did you do to her?” JD wants to know from me when Janey returns to the kitchen.

“Me? Nothing.”

Still, I can’t help wonder if her hasty departure is directly connected to my arrival.

Is it possible she’s running from me?

Three

Stephanie

“Vallard.”

I’m annoyed when my stomach gives a little twist hearing his voice. Taking in a deep breath, I get right down to business.

“Ben, it’s Stephanie. I just got your message.”

I don’t tell him that irrational anxiety had me staring at the little red dot marking the voicemail icon on my phone half the morning, before I finally listened to it. That unknown Michigan number had been his, but I never checked my phone until early this morning while I was once again waiting for the sun to rise.

Another rough night.

Dinner had been amazing, and I’d enjoyed the human interaction. The conversation was laid-back, I even had a good chuckle at Janey’s description of her new intern’s first encounter with the back end of a pregnant donkey. JD also shared some funny anecdotes of life at the ranch in his calm voice. I didn’t have to talk much and just listened, appreciating the fact I didn’t feel I needed to work hard at being social. They didn’t ask questions, didn’t probe me about work, or how I was doing, and instead simply let me be.

Yeah, I’d really enjoyed the evening. That is, until Jackson walked into the house with that friendly pooch.

Not that he did anything wrong—he was just being friendly—but I could feel the keen scrutiny from those serious, brown eyes. Like earlier yesterday morning, he looked at me in a way that made me feel exposed to the core, leaving me with no place to hide.

So, I ran, for the second time in one day.

All that to say, I had a restless night, my mind rarely still long enough to get some decent sleep, and that strange Michigan number was all but forgotten until I saw the evidence of a message on my screen this morning.

Ben Vallard.

He didn’t need to introduce himself, even though he did so on the message. I don’t think I could forget the slightly raspy quality of his voice if I wanted to. It’s actually the first thing that drew me to him all those years ago when I was a rookie agent, walking into the Traverse City, Michigan office for the first time.

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