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although it seems to me that hiding the photos in plain sight, so to speak, would be a smart thing to do. How many bad guys would look there for evidence?”

“Do you think they killed Brett because of the evidence?” Her expression was grave. “I’m worried Trish is in danger just by being my assistant hotel manager.”

“I don’t know, Chelsey. At this point, we have to expect the worst, while hoping for the best.”

“While praying for God to watch over us,” she added.

He drew in a deep breath. “My sister, Shayla, and her husband, Mike Callahan, are believers.” He offered a wry smile. “I’ve attended some church services with them, but I wish I had made more of an effort to understand their faith.”

“Many people keep their faith private, but you need to know that leaning on God is the only thing keeping me going.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “Maybe, once you go back home, you’ll attend services, as a way to remember me.”

“Chels,” he whispered her name through a throat thick with emotion. “Of course I’ll do that, but I won’t ever forget you. That’s a promise.”

Her blue eyes glittered with tears, but then she swiped at her face and looked away. “It would be better for you to forget me, Duncan. We’ll both have to find a way to move on when this is over.”

No way. He’d never forget her, ever. For a moment he thought about joining her in WITSEC. Then he thought about his dad, and his sister, Shayla, and her two kids, Brodie and Breena. His heart squeezed painfully.

Give them up? His entire family? Never to see them again?

Yet leaving Chelsey was beginning to ache the same way as when he’d lost Amanda.

“I don’t believe it,” Slade said with frustration.

He pulled himself from his troublesome thoughts. Slade looked mad, which was unusual at least in the short time he’d come to know the guy. “What?”

“Roland Perry was an undercover cop.” Slade shook his head with disgust. “He was assigned to infiltrate the construction company in an attempt to find evidence of criminal activity.”

A cop? A chill snaked down his spine and suddenly it all made sense. “Okay, but why in the world didn’t they tell you that when you learned Brett witnessed his murder?”

“Apparently Roland Perry’s status was on a need to know basis, and my job as Brett’s handler wasn’t enough to put me in that group.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in Slade’s tone.

“Nettles killed an undercover cop.” Duncan sighed. “We better hope Brett wasn’t lying about that, and that he really did have evidence.” He met Slade’s gaze. “We can’t let a cop killer walk.”

“I know.” Slade’s voice held a note of resignation. “And I’d love nothing more than to prevent that from happening, but you have to understand my main job for the foreseeable future is to protect Chelsey.”

Duncan knew that all too well. He wanted to be the one to protect her, but soon he’d be forced to hand her over to Slade Brooks permanently.

If Chelsey was right about God’s plan, then maybe his role was to help solve the crime. After all, that was what cops like him did. Arrest the bad guys and toss them in jail.

If that was all he could do for Chelsey, then he wouldn’t rest until he’d accomplished that task.

Chelsey forced herself to put some distance between her and Duncan. She had to stop leaning on him like this. The sooner she figured out how to manage on her own, the better.

Duncan couldn’t assist with her transition into her new life. Apparently, that was Slade’s job.

She tried to take solace that she wouldn’t be alone, but knew it wouldn’t be the same. Slade was a nice guy, handsome and dedicated, but he wasn’t Duncan.

Her feelings toward Duncan were spiraling out of control. Worse than the way she’d fallen so quickly for Brett after her mother’s death. She knew that these tender feelings she had for Duncan might not be real, but over the past two days, she’d learned he was far more honorable than Brett.

Which still didn’t mean she was falling in love with him. Not like the tepid feelings she’d had for Brett, but for real.

The way her parents had loved each other for over thirty years.

“Colt is bringing pizza for dinner,” Slade said. “With daylight savings time, I’d like to wait until ten o’clock before heading over to Jackson.”

“At least we have a few clouds rolling in,” Duncan pointed out. “The quarter moon shouldn’t be too much of a problem.”

“We’ll drive without lights until we’re out on the highway,” Slade agreed. “From there we should be okay.”

Chelsey tried not to worry too much about getting out of Moose and to the Teton Valley Hotel. Of more concern was what they would, or wouldn’t, find there.

Hearing that Nettles had killed an undercover cop was sobering. Had the murder been done because they’d uncovered his real identity? Or because they’d simply found him snooping around? Murder seemed a drastic punishment for snooping, but if organized crime was involved, she doubted they let little things like morals get in the way.

The evening hours went by slowly. The pizza was good, and the guys seemed relaxed as they sat around her at the table. It was almost as if they were just hanging out, rather than getting prepared for a dangerous expedition.

Exhaustion began to weigh her down at about nine o’clock. Duncan urged her to stretch out on the sofa for a while. She didn’t argue. Better to get a little nap in now, in preparation for what could be a long night.

She didn’t think she’d really get any rest, but she must have dozed because Duncan’s hand on her shoulder gently shook her awake. “Chels? It’s time.”

Blinking away the remnants of sleep, she sat up, adjusted the bulky bullet-resistant vest and nodded. “Okay.”

Slade, Colt and Duncan escorted her outside. There weren’t streetlights in Moose, but lights were visible from various

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