Love is Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

was careful to stuff them in her jacket pockets, in case she had to flee. Hypothermia was a risk…but the immediate threat was the armed man who’d shot Elijah Cameron. She’d gotten a glimpse of the shooter. Enough to know it was a man but not enough for a description—to know who it was.
    Marissa tried to focus on what she had to do now. To figure out her options.
    I’m not a Cameron. I don’t know these woods. I don’t know where this place is.
    The house was at the top of a dead-end dirt road. How far was she from help? Marissa tried to keep unanswerable questions at bay. Forcing back panic, she kept moving, digging through the drawers and cupboards for anything she could use for self-defense. Knives, bottles, rags, chemicals. She’d already grabbed a gas can from the attached one-car garage.
    Elijah’s a combat veteran. He knows what to do.
    Even wounded, he’d find a way to get help to her. He’d spotted her above him on the trail and yelled for her to run, giving her a chance to get away—to get here.
    Going to him hadn’t been an option.
    Marissa quickly assembled her potential weapons on the floor by the table. She was avoiding windows, wanted to be prepared if the shooter came after her. She paused, peering down the dark hall that led from the kitchen. The house didn’t look as if anyone had stayed there all winter, but the driveway was plowed, the walks shoveled. The owners must have hired a local groundskeeper. Maybe whoever looked after the place would come by, help her.
    Except why would they if they’d already been here after yesterday’s snow?
    Marissa reminded herself that her sisters and brother and parents all were safe. She was a high school history teacher, the eldest of five. It didn’t matter that her father was the vice president. She was no more important than the next person.
    “Marissa. You okay in there?”
    Grit. She recognized his soft, low voice and felt her knees buckle as relief washed over her. She wasn’t alone anymore.
    And he wasn’t the shooter. Not Ryan Taylor, Navy SEAL.
    “I am, Grit. I’m here.”
    He came through the back door, moving with an agility and smoothness that had surprised her at first, given his disability, but now she had come to expect. He was one of the finest men she’d ever known. He was also witty, sexy, ultracompetent and as incorrigible in his own way as her little brother. Except she didn’t think of him as a brother. Not even close. Right from the start, even when he’d annoyed her, Marissa had been attracted to him.
    “Damn, it’s dark and cold out there. Springtime in the frozen North.”
    Marissa bit back a smile and tears at the same time. “If you can figure out I’m here—”
    “So can the guy who’s after you.”
    She studied him for half a beat. He was dark-haired, wiry and quiet, with a quick wit and a steadiness that often took people by surprise. He’d told her he was a mix of Creek and Scots-Irish, a kid from the swamps of the Florida Panhandle who’d always wanted to see the world.
    “He’s not after me.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper as she realized what she was saying was true. “He’s not my enemy or my father’s enemy, or a Cameron enemy. Grit…” She took a breath. “He’s after you.”
    Grit shrugged. “Even better. Why’s he after me?”
    “Because you’re here. He lured me out here because he knew you’d come after me. It’s so clear to me now, Grit. Elijah was a surprise. That’s why he shot him. But I could teach yoga in Black Falls for all this man cares. He wants you, Grit. Who is he?”
    “I don’t know,” Grit said, the moonlight catching his dark eyes as he turned to her. “You’re sure about this?”
    She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
    He gave her a small grin. “That Neal intuition at work. You okay? The blood—”
    “A scratch. It’s nothing. I’m fine. The shooter wanted me to think Charlie was getting himself in trouble again. I see that now. I fell into his trap. I