Hide From Evil by Jami Alden Page A

was a second of hesitation on the other line. “Are you sure that’s necessary? Flynn has kept to himself. I don’t think he’s a threat—”
    “We don’t pay you to think. We pay you to do,” Carl snapped. “If you don’t want the work, tell me now so I can make other arrangements.”
    “That won’t be necessary, sir.”
    “Good. Do it as clean as you can—make it look like an accident if possible.”
    “It will cost you double.”
    “I’m aware of that,” Carl snapped, swiping at the sweat beading on his upper lip. “You’ll get the balance when I get confirmation.”
    He pressed at the headache taking root at the base of his skull, hiding his pain with a smile for the mayor of Seattle as he ducked back into the dining room.
    Goddamn Nate. Dead for nearly five months, and he still threatened to ruin everything.

Chapter 4
    K rista snuck a glimpse at Sean’s profile and huddled deeper into the borrowed fleece for warmth. The already cool spring air was downright frigid as they traveled at forty miles an hour with the windows rolled down.
    Sean seemed impervious to the cold, his hard jaw tense, his gaze fixed on the road as he whipped around the curves.
    Loud rock screamed through the speakers, so Krista had to practically yell to be heard. “Do you mind rolling up the windows?”
    “Yeah.”
    She couldn’t have heard that right. “I said, do you mind rolling up the windows?”
    Sean reached out and turned down the stereo. “And I said yeah, I do mind.” He pinned her with a glare that was a good ten degrees frostier than the air whipping through the truck.
    “But I’m freezing,” she said, pointing to her chattering teeth for emphasis.
    “Tough shit. Not my fault your goddamn car broke down.” The music went back on full blast, making any further conversation impossible.
    She scooted down in her seat in an effort to keep herself out of the wind and stared out the window to avoid Sean’s suspicious gaze. He still wasn’t convinced she hadn’t sabotaged her car herself.
    And he was right. Not that he, or even the mechanic, would find proof unless he knew exactly what to look for. Still, anxiety knotted her belly when she thought of what his reaction might be. Given his reaction to her, he’d probably push her out of the moving car and onto the side of the road and leave her to fend for herself.
    Come to think of it, he looked like he might be contemplating that move anyway. So she cranked up the heat and kept her mouth shut against the millions of questions swirling in her brain, even when he pulled off the road to a miles-long driveway that led to a beautiful, custom-built log home.
    He switched off the car and her ears rang in the sudden silence. “I have to deliver a couple pieces,” he said.
    Krista was shocked he bothered to explain at all. “Anything I can do to help?”
    He stared at her a minute, as though looking for an ulterior motive. His broad shoulders inched up and down. “I suppose you can carry the footstool.”
    She climbed down from the truck and stamped her feet, which had gone numb, as she circled around to the back. She blew on her hands before stuffing them back into her pockets as Sean unlocked the tailgate.
    He reached in to pull out a gorgeous, hand-carved mission-style chair and set it on the ground beside her. Next was the matching footstool, which he handed to Krista.
    Krista couldn’t help but be impressed at the way he lifted the chair, which had to weigh at least a hundred pounds, without any visible effort and walked it up a short set of stairs to a sprawling front porch. The footstool, made of the same dense hardwood, was considerably lighter but still had her huffing a little by the time they made it up the steps.
    “Do we just leave it here?” Krista asked, indicating the porch.
    “I’m going to set them up inside. I don’t want them out in the weather.” He punched a code into the panel beneath the doorknob and the dead bolt slid free.
    Though