She’d left at first light with Luciana. Not that he was keeping track of her movements, it just made sense for him to stay in the know—not because of what that jackass Hawson, but because it made it easier to keep himself on guard. Now he finally had all the silence he could want, but not for much longer. The soft breeze carried the sound of gravel being crunched under tires in through the open kitchen window. Steaming cup of coffee in one hand and conches blancas pastry in the other, he padded across the varnished oak floors to the large bay window overlooking his half-mile-long driveway. The cabin sat at the peak of a long gravel drive and tall pine trees stood guard on the other three sides. Thanks to Mother Nature and the way sound carried up the hill, no one could get within two miles without him knowing. The list of people he never wanted darkening his doorstep was a long one, but the man heading his way was near the very top. The mayor’s Cadillac barreled toward the house, spitting out gravel from beneath its tires and coming to a stop at the bend in the circular paved parking area big enough for six cars.
