Targeted For Murder. Elizabeth Goddard

thing.”

      “You mean you were trying to cover yourself.”

      “And you. But hey, I don’t even know your name.”

      “Megan Spears from Iowa.”

      Cooper frowned. Scratched his head. Megan Spears from Iowa? Right. After refusing to tell him anything earlier, she was suddenly willing to share her full name and where she was from? Unlikely. It had to be a false identity. But it was better than just calling her “the woman” in his head. “It’s nice to meet you, Megan Spears from Iowa.”

      Megan Spears from Iowa sagged, probably just realizing her faux paus.

      “So you don’t want to give me your real name. It’s okay.”

      What am I getting myself into? I don’t have anything left to give, especially to help a girl in this much trouble.

      “I need to disappear and yesterday.” Her words were strong, but they belied her appearance—scratched, bleeding and exhausted.

      She tried to push past him.

      “Wait,” he said. “I can help. I teach survival training. I have a military background. Just...let me help you.”

      Hadley shrank if only a millimeter. “I’m listening.”

      A half grin cracked into her lips. But why was she staring? “What?”

      “You have a gash on your forehead. You’re bloody and bruised and you don’t even care. I saw how you fought. I think... I think I could believe your background.”

      So she had trust issues, huh? Well, with trained killers after her, he could hardly blame her. Cooper had just offered her the first real chance to believe someone in a while, it would seem.

      Cooper offered his own half grin. Except his smile wiped away the moment.

      Her lips flattened. “It makes no difference. I need to leave.”

      “Do you know where you’re going next? Where to hide?”

      “It’s none of your business.” This time Megan pushed by him and he let her.

      The sun was setting and the air grew chilled. “If you need to hide, I can help you. Don’t you get it?”

      She whirled on him. “Why would you help me? You don’t even know me.”

      He’d been asking himself that same question, and wondering if he even still had what it took to deal with this kind of life-and-death situation, that is, after failing so miserably. “I’ve trained my whole life to help people. It’s what I do. My business is about training people to survive. So I recognize when someone is desperate and needs help. I can’t turn my back on you. I won’t.”

      His reasons went deeper, much deeper, he suddenly realized. He hadn’t seen how desperate his brother was until it was too late and he’d taken that suicide plunge. That had shaken Cooper’s confidence to the core. Even his father had blamed him. Hadley was desperate for far different reasons—he could see that and had no excuse this time. Without Cooper’s help she would die.

      Now, how did he convince her to let him help?

      “The kind of survival assistance I need goes far beyond what you train people for.”

      “How do you know?”

      She cocked a brow.

      “And you’re up to the task?” he asked.

      She turned her back on him and started for the old Jeep Wrangler soft top.

      Cooper followed. He’d been on foot all day and had found his way here, trailing her from a distance.

      How did he convince her? “How about just for the night? Just so you have time to think and rest. You can stay at the apartment above the storefront for Wilderness, Inc., in Gideon.”

      “Whose apartment is it?”

      He’d be embarrassed to admit it was his, once she saw it, but she’d figure it out soon enough. He’d have to be up-front with her from the start. One small white lie and she would run. “Mine. I’ll sleep in the office downstairs until you figure out your next step.”

      “How do I know you’re not trying to keep me here until the sheriff comes?”

      Another good question. That hadn’t been his intention.

      “You want to know if the man is dead, don’t you? Getting the sheriff involved will mean people searching for a body down the river.” That was the wrong thing to say—she wanted fewer people involved, not more. “He doesn’t have to know about you. I’ll tell him I saw a woman getting attacked, I fought with a man and the woman disappeared. That’s all.”

      “So you want to do the right thing and call the sheriff but you’re not going to tell him the whole truth?”

      “I will tell him, but not until I know you’re safe.” What are you getting yourself into, Cooper Wilde?

      But he knew the sheriff would understand after he told him everything. This woman could be dead by the morning if he didn’t find a way to help her tonight.

      “I’m sorry, but my fa— I can’t trust anyone. Not even the police.”

      “You’re not from here, so there’s no reason to believe the sheriff is connected to any of the people after you, right?”

      “No, but he might tell other people. I don’t want any information about me to get out.”

      “He won’t—not if I ask him not to.”

      She looked skeptical. “How well do you know this sheriff?”

      “I’ve known him for years.”

      “And you trust him?”

      Did he? But Cooper hesitated too long and she huffed her way past him and climbed into her old clunker.

      Helping someone survive had never been this grueling.

FOUR

      Hadley jammed the key in the ignition.

      Cooper didn’t follow her. He’d let her go. For that, she was grateful. So why did disappointment swirl around inside?

      She couldn’t have another death on her conscience. She’d have to keep her distance from everyone until this was over. If it ever was.

      Except how could she really do this all on her own?

      She needed someone to help, but it was too risky to trust anyone, on all fronts.

      The engine turned over once. Twice. Then died. She tried again. Good thing she wasn’t running from an assassin at this moment. Why had she bought such an old vehicle? With the cash in her bag, she could have bought something new and sturdy.

      She was aware of Cooper watching her in the waning light of day, hands on his hips. Why didn’t he just go away? He had no idea. No. Idea. What he’d be getting into if he stayed.

      She squeezed the steering wheel, frustration building in her chest. She couldn’t accept his offer of help.

      Could she?

      Exhaustion overwhelmed her. She eyed the cabin with longing—but there was no way she could spend the night there.

      How had that man found her? He’d said someone else would come after her. Even if she ran, would they find her next hiding place just as easily? If she didn’t figure out this most basic problem of how to cover her tracks—and soon—she was dead.

      Cooper knocked on the window.

      She jumped. Too tired to stay alert, she hadn’t realized he’d approached the Jeep. Her inattention could have been deadly.

      He stared