Page 3 of Nick
“He got shot. In the chest.” Nica drew in a ragged breath and Gracie grabbed onto her hand, squeezing tight, offering what little comfort she could. She couldn’t imagine what Nica was going through. She knew the lone Boudreau daughter adored her big brothers. “I was in the kitchen with Momma. Everybody else was in other parts of the house, talking and laughing, having a great time. Antonio went outside to talk with Nick. The next thing I knew, there was the loud crack of a gunshot. Everybody raced outside. By the time I got there, Antonio was on the ground and Rafe was holding his shirt to Antonio’s chest. There was…so much blood. All I saw was red. It was awful.”
“Did they catch the shooter?”
Nica shook her head. “Heath, Dane, and Ridge took off toward the area where they think the shot came from, but whoever it was, they were long gone by the time my brothers got there.”
“Why would somebody shoot Antonio? I know his job’s dangerous, but to have someone come out to the ranch to try and assassinate him with all his family around? They must have a death wish.”
Gracie realized her poor choice of words the second they left her mouth, but it was too late to take them back. And wasn’t that just like her, mouth engaged long before her brain did.
“Nobody’s sure who took the shot, but I know who’s riding the guilt train.” She gestured toward the blond man. “Nick was outside talking to Antonio when it happened. I swear he’s just like the rest of my brothers, always thinking they should have known what was going to happen before it actually does.”
Gracie shot a glance toward the stranger. She had to agree with Nica. He looked like he carried the weight of guilt on his shoulders, like Atlas holding up the world. Jaw set, he stared at the floor while Dane sat beside him, talking quietly.
“I don’t know him,” she told Nica. “I haven’t seen him around town.” Which was a lie. She did remember him, though he’d looked so different the last time she’d seen him. He’d been working undercover in a criminal organization, to help take down a ruthless human trafficker, at least that’s what Ms. Patti later told her.
“He’s one of Momma’s Lost Boys. He was here when all the drama with Joshua and Lauren was going on. Everybody thought he worked for the man who was after Lauren, Brashear. Turns out he was working undercover trying to take Brashear down.” Nica gave a watery chuckle before adding, “Momma blew his cover and the whole investigation out of the water when she recognized him. She hadn’t seen or heard anything about him for over fifteen years, yet she knew him.”
Gracie knew all about Ms. Patti’s “Lost Boys”. Knew they were foster kids who had been assigned to live at the Boudreau ranch, A.K.A. the Big House. For whatever reason, Child Protective Services removed them after a period of time. Sometimes they went back to live with their parents, others went back into the system. Ms. Patti told her about how hard it was on Douglas when the boys had to leave. Gracie was smart enough to read between the lines, and knew it hurt Ms. Patti far more than she was willing to admit. The family had taken to calling those kids the Lost Boys, because they were lost to the Boudreaus.
In the last few months, she’d heard that a couple of the Lost Boys had come back into the picture. She’d met Brian when he’d been searching for a serial killer and the trail led straight to Shiloh Springs and her friend, Harper Westbrook. Thankfully, he’d figured out who the real killer was and had fallen hard for Harper. Another Lost Boy, Gage, had reconnected with Ms. Patti, though she had yet to meet him.
Now, another one of Ms. Patti’s lost sheep had returned to the fold. Well, maybe. Because if the look on his face was anything to go by, he wouldn’t be sticking around. Guilt made people do things they later regretted. She knew that from first-hand experience.
Before she could say anything else, silence filled the space as a surgeon walked in and headed for Douglas and Ms. Patti. Grabbing Nica’s hand, she squeezed it tight, praying Antonio was okay. Anything less was unacceptable. When she saw Ms. Patti relax into Douglas’ arms, Gracie released the breath she’d been holding and hugged Nica tight.
While everybody was milling around Douglas and Ms. Patti, Gracie noticed Nick slip out the door without saying a word. Somehow, she knew he was leaving, but she had the feeling this wasn’t the last she’d see of the tall, enigmatic stranger.
CHAPTER TWO
It felt strangebeing back in Shiloh Springs, even though he’d been here just six weeks previous. So many things happened the last time he showed up. Things he couldn’t stop. Things he regretted. He grimaced at the memory of a ringing gunshot splitting the air. Antonio was recovering from his gunshot wound, though he was on medical leave for another couple of weeks. Bet he wasn’t the best patient, Nick mused. He was too intense, too driven to sit idly by. Something Nick could identify with on a personal level.
He eased the SUV into a parking space close to the sheriff’s office, his mind going back to the first time he’d been inside the mostly nondescript building. On that occasion, he’d been in handcuffs. Of course, instead of keeping up the persona he’d adopted to perform his undercover work while in Shiloh Springs, he’d been outed by Ms. Patti. Her recognition and interference threw a monkey wrench into his ongoing investigation to bring down Brashear, but it had been worth it, because that little slip up on his part allowed him to reconnect with the man and woman who’d made such an impact on his young life so many years earlier. He couldn’t regret having Douglas and Ms. Patti back in his life.
Now here he was, back in Shiloh Springs, and he still didn’t have any more answers than the day Antonio got shot. Oh, he was still convinced the bullet was meant for him, without a shadow of a doubt. Unfortunately, he had no hard concrete evidence to back up his suspicions. Or a suspect. Might be nice if he could come up with a valid reason why somebody was gunning for him. He knew it must be connected to one of his cases, but so far he’d come up empty. Grant Calvin, his boss, and the man who’d not only rescued him but helped raise him after he’d been forced to leave the Big House, hadn’t had any better luck figuring out who’d attempted to assassinate him.
Shutting off the engine, he studied the shops lining Main Street. Each one was unique, with brightly colored awnings or signs proclaiming their wares. It resembled the quintessential small-town vibe that seemed to dot the southern part of the United States, though this one held sentimental value for him. Funny how so much had changed, and yet still seemed the same as he remembered.
Glancing at the clock on the dashboard, he grimaced. It was earlier than he’d planned to be here. Rafe probably wasn’t even in yet, especially since he was still in the honeymoon phase of his marriage. Drawing in a deep breath, Nick almost resigned himself to grabbing a quick cup of coffee at the diner, when he spotted a sign across Main Street, proclaiming Gracie’s Grounds as the best coffee in town.
With purposeful strides, he crossed the street, hoping the boast on the sign proved true. Over the years, he’d become something of a coffee snob. Not that he wouldn’t drink whatever was available if there wasn’t any other option, but he liked the richness and smooth body of a good coffee.
Opening the front door, he was immediately assaulted by the scent of freshly ground coffee, the familiar aroma of instantly imbuing a sense of calm. For being early morning, the place was packed. All around, small tables were filled with people sitting and chatting, the world going on as normal. Normal—he laughed softly. He didn’t think he’d ever had what everyone considered a normal day in his life…except when he’d been at the Big House. Then again, maybe it wasn’t right to judge everyone else’s normal against life with the Boudreaus.
The sound of laughter instantly caught his attention. It was filled with joy. That was the only way to describe the sound. Instinctively he looked around, wondering which of the shop’s patrons felt such happiness. It took a second before it registered that it wasn’t a customer. Instead, a dark-haired woman standing behind the cash register snared his attention. A smile lit her face, taking her from simply pretty to beautiful.
The feeling he knew her nagged at his consciousness, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Where had he seen her before? Because he was one hundred percent certain he had. She was the kind of woman who wouldn’t be easily forgotten or overlooked. Something about her tugged at him. He knew her; he was convinced of it.
With an internal shrug, he headed for the counter. It shouldn’t take long to grab a cup of coffee and maybe the name of the woman who’d thoroughly piqued his interest. Not that he’d do anything about it. He wasn’t in Shiloh Springs to get involved with somebody. That was a very bad idea. Especially with someone itching to put a bullet between his eyes.
“What can I get for you?” She asked the question while writing something down on a notepad directly beside the cash register, never looking up.
“Large coffee. Black. Two sugars.”
“Sure thing…” Her voice trailed off, the last word cracking slightly. A slight widening of her eyes, as though in recognition once again piqued his interest. There was something about her that seemed achingly familiar, yet he couldn’t figure out whether he was intrigued by the woman herself, or the fact he couldn’t place where he knew her from. Had to have seen her in Shiloh Springs, which meant sometime in the last couple of months. Oh, well, he’d figure it out.
“Nick.” His name on her lips was almost a sigh, barely a whisper of sound.
“That’s right. Nicholas Vincent. And you?”
