“I can’t explain what I don’t know,” Paige said, her throat dry. “This video has been altered or edited or something. I was there yesterday, yes. And I was home by seven-thirty. Home all night.” She stared at the face identical to her own, baffled. “This looks bad but it just isn’t possible.”
“Looks bad?” Ronnie echoed. “I have you at the scene with the murder weapon.”
He was so stern. So sure. She was screwed. “N-not me.” She licked her lips, nearly asked for a glass of water. “Can’t you test my hands?” she asked as the thought occurred to her. “For blood or gunpowder or anything else you can think of. You’ll see I’m telling you the truth. I don’t even own a gun.”
He shook his head. “Your father does. In fact, a gun just like the one found at the scene is registered in his name.”
She had no idea if Ronnie was bluffing. Her dad did own a couple of guns and he went hunting with friends at least once a year. Paige had never been interested enough in the weapons or hunting to ask for details. “That’s my father’s business. I’ve never held a gun in my life.”
“Except right there.” Ronnie aimed a finger at the image frozen on the screen. He stood up and moved to the door, opening it for a young woman in a lab coat. “Let her take your fingerprints.”
“Gladly.” Finally, a way to prove she was telling the truth. “I have nothing to hide.”
He folded his arms, waiting. When the technician left, she said, “Ronnie, you must know you’re on the wrong track. I’m not a killer.”
“You’re telling me that’s not you holding the gun, checking the pulse.”
“Correct. I can’t explain this person on the video, but it isn’t me.”
“Money won’t get you out of this,” he warned, his voice low.
That hurt almost as much as being accused of murder. “You know me better than that,” she said, meeting his gaze head on. Yes, she’d been born into a wealthy family, but she’d been raised by down-to-earth parents who believed in compassion, common sense, and a strong work ethic. She’d made a concentrated effort all her life to become more than the “Coker heiress” and “Alden princess” monikers she’d been saddled with since birth.
Since birth or since adoption? Not a safe place for her mind to wander with Ronnie watching her so closely.
“I want a lawyer.” She’d cooperated enough. Friend or not, she’d probably said too much already. Folding her arms over her chest, she pressed her lips together to prevent any further protests. Her gaze dropped to the screen once more, locked in a staring contest with the other woman.
“Paige—”
A knock sounded on the glass, cutting short whatever he’d been about to say. He muttered an oath. “Don’t move.”
She wished she had the guts to stand up and walk out. He hadn’t actually said she was under arrest. But she was too good at doing what was asked, what was expected. She stayed in the chair, stewing, unsure what to do next.
Chapter Two
There were few things Carter Oakes enjoyed more than an early morning fishing trip. A soft sunrise on a clear day and the immense quiet out on the sea combined to restore his soul, with or without a good catch. And the sunrises off the Carolina coast never failed to make his heart light.
His fishing boat rocked gently as he set his lines. If he could live out here, he would. He’d learned early to appreciate solitude and his interests and endeavors usually led him toward individual pursuits rather than team efforts. Just how he was wired. He’d been a freestyle specialist on the high school swim team and his first job had been as a lifeguard. When that work came to an end, he shifted to working at the marina and helping on chartered fishing trips to pay for college.
He wasn’t a man who would claim life was easy or fair, but on mornings like this it was too beautiful to wallow in what had gone wrong.
From a clear, waterproof pocket near the wheel his cell phone chirped. He had programmed that particular alert for only one contact: the private security agency he worked for. When he checked the display he saw the one word he expected:
PROTECT
Carter gave himself a mental high five. He was eager for a new assignment, even if it meant having his morning on the water cut short. Quickly, he packed up his gear and started back to shore.
The Guardian Agency had hired him way back when no one else would grant him an interview. They’d given him money and time to finish his degree and a second chance to be the man he wanted to be and do work that made a difference. The phone chirped again and this time a name and photograph filled the screen followed by instructions to wait for the office to call and confirm the first meeting.
A slight variation on the usual order of things, but then not much was normal or usual about this particular agency. They didn’t advertise their services and they didn’t recruit through normal channels. In fact, they had come to him, pretty much when he was destitute. Not only did they have details about his circumstances that hadn’t been publicized, they praised his decisions and integrity.
The lawyer who handled the recruiting and hiring process, Nolan Swann, never shared how they’d found Carter. Instead, he outlined the agency expectations and offered up an irresistible package from salary to benefits. Carter had leapt into a new life without a single regret.
Once he was underway, he took a closer look at the phone. The woman’s face looked familiar but the name brought everything into sharp focus.
Paige Coker.
Seriously? She was practically royalty in Charleston. The only child of Jack and Cora Coker, she was a society darling and the most eligible woman in the state since her very public breakup last year.
Carter considered keeping an eye on the local and regional news part of his job. Preparedness mattered and surprises in the course of protecting a client could spell disaster. Whatever had gone wrong, it was a recent development.
No wonder he had to wait for the office to handle introductions. The Coker family wouldn’t let just anyone waltz into their circle. If they remembered his name from the days when it had been plastered all over the media, they’d ask the agency to send someone else.
Once he had the boat back in the slip, he dialed the office, wondering if someone had managed to kidnap Paige. She was an adult, a few years younger than him, but he imagined her parents would meet any ransom demand.
Even at this early hour a chipper voice picked up on the second ring. “Gamble and Swann, how may I direct your call?”
“Oakes confirming a new protection order.”
“One moment.”
A beat of silence and then he was connected. “Morning, Carter.”
He recognized Swann’s voice. “Good morning. Calling in as directed,” Carter said. “Am I reading this name right?”
“You are,” Swann confirmed. “Are you familiar with her?”
“Only through the press.” He’d had one face-to-face interaction with Paige during his lifeguard days, but he doubted she remembered that. “Is there a direct threat?”
“Yes,” Swann growled. “The Charleston Police Department wants to charge her with first degree murder.”