Her Holiday Protector. Lenora Worth

      But she’d called him instead. Blain radioed in while he kept her on the phone. When he pulled up, two units were parked in the drive-through in front of the bright lobby. But he didn’t see the other cruiser or Rikki, either.

      “I’m here,” he said into his cell. “Come out of the bathroom, Rikki.”

      “Okay.”

      He ended the call, furious that someone had tried to get to her in spite of their efforts. But this attack supported his suspicions. Someone was after Rikki Allen.

      “Where’s our man?” he asked one of the uniformed officers as he slammed out of his unmarked sedan.

      “He was knocked out in the bushes but on his way to the ER right now,” one of the patrolmen said. “He’ll be okay.”

      The man they’d put on Rikki had gotten out of his patrol car to stretch his legs and chat with the pretty front-desk clerk. When he’d returned to his car, he’d been hit on the head and knocked out. Another officer had taken him to the hospital in his patrol car.

      Sometimes, small-town police officers did things in a backward kind of way but Blain knew his fellow officers were all hardworking men. He was just glad everyone was okay.

      Especially the woman emerging pale and sleep-tousled out of the bathroom. She looked at Blain and walked straight toward him, wearing a dark red zipped jacket and matching pants that his mother would call lounge wear.

      He called it nice-looking wear right now but he kept his mind focused on the task and not the way that combo fit Rikki. “Hey, you okay?”

      “Yes.” She glanced around, not looking so okay. “Did you find anyone out there?”

      “Not yet. My men are searching every nook. We’ll double-check the area around your door, but I’m guessing whoever found you knew to wear gloves and not leave any clues.”

      She nodded and pushed at all that tumbling hair. “Now we know, Detective.”

      “Know what?” He didn’t like the gleam of acceptance in her eyes.

      “That they were after me.”

      “Yes, I believe you’re right on that,” Blain replied. “But they could have been after both of you.” At the look of horror on her face, he said, “Listen, you’re gonna have to tell me where your mother lives. You can’t stay here alone.”

      “I can’t have them in her house, either.”

      “But you’ll be with someone and...I’ll make sure no one bothers either of you.”

      “And what are you, a one-man type of superhero?”

      “No, but I think I can patrol a home and keep intruders out.”

      “He’s a former marine, ma’am,” a passing officer said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He can take care of you.”

      She quirked a dark eyebrow and took a calming breath. “A marine? So that should make me feel safe, I suppose.”

      “One of the best,” the young patrolman said before Blain could reply. “An MP at that. Only, he don’t like to brag.”

      Blain shook his head. “Look, I can watch over you tonight.”

      She stared at him with a new regard, her dark gaze sweeping over him and making him squirm. “I don’t want to go to my mother’s house.”

      Blain took her by the arm and tugged her off to the side where no one could hear him. “Your place isn’t safe. This hotel isn’t safe even though we had a uniformed patrol on site. I can’t take you to my place. Unless you have somewhere you can go that you can assure me is okay, then you’d better tell me the truth, Miss Allen. All of it. Or I’ll have to take you to the station and put you in a cell just to make sure you are safe until morning.”

      “I don’t know the truth,” she said, her voice weakening. “I’ve told you everything I can.” Then she shook her head. “I keep thinking of Chad—my ex. But he couldn’t be this stupid. He’s threatened me but...I can’t believe he’d do this. He has too much at stake.”

      Blain held his lips tightly together to keep from shouting at her. “And it never occurred to you to give me these details when you mentioned him earlier?”

      “I didn’t think he’d find me at the town house. I never told him that my family—that I own it.”

      “Well, maybe he followed you and...tried to kill you.” Blain pulled out his notebook. “What’s his address?”

      She hesitated and then gave him Chad’s workplace and home addresses.

      “And when did you last see Chad Presley?”

      “About a week ago, down in Miami.”

      Blain got a description of Chad and his vehicle and put out a BOLO over the radio that would go statewide. Be On the Lookout for a possible killer.

      “There. We’ll see what that turns up. Does this Chad know where your mother lives?”

      She thought about last spring when she’d brought him here for a wedding. That hadn’t gone over very well.

      “He’s been here before but only once.”

      “Okay, then, let’s go. Either you tell me where to take you or...you can spend the night in jail.”

      “You can’t do that—force me into jail.”

      “I can if it’s for your own good.”

      He didn’t like playing bad cop with her, but the woman was too stubborn to see that someone was after her. And a nasty ex-boyfriend would be a prime suspect. Surely she wasn’t one of those women who kept forgiving over and over until it was too late.

      Blain would find out everything about her before this was over, but right now he wanted to get her out of here. They were too exposed at this location now.

      She finally nodded. “I need to get my things.”

      After he escorted her to her room, he put her in his car and turned to stare at her. “Where to, princess?”

      She swallowed, dropped her head and stared at her hands in her lap. “The Bay Road.”

      Bay Road? Blain whistled. Real estate out there was way over his pay-scale. “Okay, then.”

      Pricey estates out there. A scenic highway surrounding where the big bay met up with Millbrook Lake.

      When they were underway and out past the city, he turned off and followed the dark water. “Which address?”

      She finally looked over at him, a solid defiance in her voice. “2200 First Bay Lane.”

      Blain blinked, thinking he hadn’t heard right. “Hey, that’s—”

      “The Alvanetti estate,” she finished for him. “Sonia Alvanetti is my mother.”

      Blain held tightly to the steering wheel as realization settled around him. “And...Franco Alvanetti is your father.”

      “Yes.” She nodded and looked out the window.

      And suddenly, Blain understood so much more about what was going on with Rikki Allen. No wonder she’d been so closemouthed and evasive. No wonder he couldn’t trust her.

      She was an Alvanetti.

       FOUR

      Old Florida.

      A wrought-iron gate swung open after Rikki gave him a security code to punch in on the big electronic switch pad.

      Blain eased the unmarked police sedan along the winding lane and took in his surroundings as the first rays of