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The Protector
Author: HelenKay Dimon
Genre Romantic Suspense
About The Protector
Salvation, Pennsylvania. The commune located in the small town was advertised as a modern Utopia: a place to live, share, and learn with other like-minded young people. Cate Pendleton’s sister was one of them. Now she’s dead—and Cate won’t rest until she finds out who killed her. Stonewalled at every turn, she approaches a DC Fixer for help and ends up with Damon Knox, a mysterious man with a secretive past. But Cate soon discovers that she not only needs Damon, she wants him, which isn’t good—for the attraction brewing between them will only lead to complications that can turn into danger . . .
Damon has tried to erase the hellish memories and the evil that happened in Salvation ever since he left a long time ago. Still, he can’t turn his back on Cate. As Damon works with Cate to uncover her sister’s killer, he finds himself drawn to her more and more. But how will she feel about him when she learns about his connection to the place?
Joining forces to uncover the truth, they must stay one step ahead of a cunning killer who’s bent on not being exposed.
Damon has tried to erase the hellish memories and the evil that happened in Salvation ever since he left a long time ago. Still, he can’t turn his back on Cate. As Damon works with Cate to uncover her sister’s killer, he finds himself drawn to her more and more. But how will she feel about him when she learns about his connection to the place?
Joining forces to uncover the truth, they must stay one step ahead of a cunning killer who’s bent on not being exposed.
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Excerpt
She cleared her throat. “Shauna.”
They could circle back to food because she had his attention now. He refused to joke about this topic. “Your sister.”
“She’s three years older.”
He noticed she didn’t use the past tense. Shauna died ten years ago and Cate still saw her as an “is.” For Damon, that meant treading carefully. “And you are…?”
“Twenty-nine.”
He knew that answer before she said but thought keeping her to facts might help her emotionally wade through the next part. He’d helped Wren with other cases and this piece – dealing with the grief – never got easier. Damon had a load of grief and guilt of his own piled on top of hers, so he got it.
He nodded to her. “Go ahead.”
“The questions you ask don’t seem that pertinent.”
“I’m going to be honest with you.” He started to lean forward when the waiter came by and dropped off their food. The smell of grilled hamburger filled his senses as he reached for his folded napkin and threw it across his lap.
She didn’t move. “That would be a good way to start.”
“Wren already gave me a file he had on you. The man is an expert at collecting information and then making Garrett put it together in a nice big, easy-to-understand breakdown of what happened and when.”
For a few seconds she sat there, quiet, as her gaze moved over his face, studying him. “Then why are we here doing the get-to-know-you thing?”
“First, I’m hungry. That happens a lot. The need to eat thing. So, you’ll need to get used to it.” He popped a french fry in his mouth.
“You aren’t…I mean, you look…”
Interesting. “I’m pretty excited to hear how you finish that sentence.”
She waved a hand in front of her. “You’re fit.”
“Oh, really?”
“Don’t get excited. That was an objectively factual statement.”
“Objectively factual?” He didn’t even know what that meant. If she found him sexy she should absolutely say so because damn was that a mutual feeling.
“You know what I mean.”
Rather than risk saying the wrong thing and wearing her salad, he switched back to the food. That seemed like a safe topic. “I have low blood sugar and get cranky when I don’t eat.”
“So, you eat burgers all the time.”
“I like pleasure.”
She bit her top lip as if she were fighting off a smile. “You sound like you’re five.”
“And protein.” All this talk about food and seeing the burger right there, all he wanted to do was pick it up and take a bite, but he waited. “My point is that this – here, right now, us eating together – is about getting to know each other.”
That buried smile disappeared. “Why do we need to?”
“Why?” Good lord, she was serious. He could tell from the confused expression. Nothing about her tone or demeanor telegraphed amusement or suggested she was joking.
“It’s a job. You go in and do it.” She shrugged. “I’d rather spend our time this afternoon with you telling me your big plan so that we can figure out what we do next.”
They appeared to have very different views on who was going to be in charge of this operation. He was very clear, but she seemed to be confused. “Let me understand this. You think we need to agree on strategy?”
“Of course.”
“That’s not how this works.” Not in his world. Not ever. When he took on a job he ran it alone, not by committee.
She shoved her plate to the side and leaned on her elbows, inching closer to him across the top of the two-seat table. “Do you understand what’s at stake here?”
“Likely a silent promise you made to your sister that you would make sure her killer didn’t go free.” It was a guess but an educated one. He’d dealt with grieving family members before. He’d seen both sides of the battle lines. So, when her eyes widened he knew he’d scored. “And your peace of mind.”
She glanced down at her salad then at the two men at the table next to them who were locked in an argument about football season tickets. When she finally looked back at him again some of the stress around her eyes had disappeared. “You get it.”
“I know guilt when I see it.”
They could circle back to food because she had his attention now. He refused to joke about this topic. “Your sister.”
“She’s three years older.”
He noticed she didn’t use the past tense. Shauna died ten years ago and Cate still saw her as an “is.” For Damon, that meant treading carefully. “And you are…?”
“Twenty-nine.”
He knew that answer before she said but thought keeping her to facts might help her emotionally wade through the next part. He’d helped Wren with other cases and this piece – dealing with the grief – never got easier. Damon had a load of grief and guilt of his own piled on top of hers, so he got it.
He nodded to her. “Go ahead.”
“The questions you ask don’t seem that pertinent.”
“I’m going to be honest with you.” He started to lean forward when the waiter came by and dropped off their food. The smell of grilled hamburger filled his senses as he reached for his folded napkin and threw it across his lap.
She didn’t move. “That would be a good way to start.”
“Wren already gave me a file he had on you. The man is an expert at collecting information and then making Garrett put it together in a nice big, easy-to-understand breakdown of what happened and when.”
For a few seconds she sat there, quiet, as her gaze moved over his face, studying him. “Then why are we here doing the get-to-know-you thing?”
“First, I’m hungry. That happens a lot. The need to eat thing. So, you’ll need to get used to it.” He popped a french fry in his mouth.
“You aren’t…I mean, you look…”
Interesting. “I’m pretty excited to hear how you finish that sentence.”
She waved a hand in front of her. “You’re fit.”
“Oh, really?”
“Don’t get excited. That was an objectively factual statement.”
“Objectively factual?” He didn’t even know what that meant. If she found him sexy she should absolutely say so because damn was that a mutual feeling.
“You know what I mean.”
Rather than risk saying the wrong thing and wearing her salad, he switched back to the food. That seemed like a safe topic. “I have low blood sugar and get cranky when I don’t eat.”
“So, you eat burgers all the time.”
“I like pleasure.”
She bit her top lip as if she were fighting off a smile. “You sound like you’re five.”
“And protein.” All this talk about food and seeing the burger right there, all he wanted to do was pick it up and take a bite, but he waited. “My point is that this – here, right now, us eating together – is about getting to know each other.”
That buried smile disappeared. “Why do we need to?”
“Why?” Good lord, she was serious. He could tell from the confused expression. Nothing about her tone or demeanor telegraphed amusement or suggested she was joking.
“It’s a job. You go in and do it.” She shrugged. “I’d rather spend our time this afternoon with you telling me your big plan so that we can figure out what we do next.”
They appeared to have very different views on who was going to be in charge of this operation. He was very clear, but she seemed to be confused. “Let me understand this. You think we need to agree on strategy?”
“Of course.”
“That’s not how this works.” Not in his world. Not ever. When he took on a job he ran it alone, not by committee.
She shoved her plate to the side and leaned on her elbows, inching closer to him across the top of the two-seat table. “Do you understand what’s at stake here?”
“Likely a silent promise you made to your sister that you would make sure her killer didn’t go free.” It was a guess but an educated one. He’d dealt with grieving family members before. He’d seen both sides of the battle lines. So, when her eyes widened he knew he’d scored. “And your peace of mind.”
She glanced down at her salad then at the two men at the table next to them who were locked in an argument about football season tickets. When she finally looked back at him again some of the stress around her eyes had disappeared. “You get it.”
“I know guilt when I see it.”
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About HelenKay Dimon
HelenKay Dimon spent the years before becoming a romance author as a...divorce attorney. Not the usual transition, she knows. Good news is she now writes full time and is much happier. She has sold over forty novels and novellas to numerous publishers, including HarperCollins, Kensington, Harlequin, Penguin Random House, Riptide and Carina Press. Her nationally bestselling and award-winning books have been showcased in numerous venues and her books have twice been named "Red-Hot Reads" and excerpted in Cosmopolitan magazine. She is on the Board of Directors of the Romance Writers of America and teaches fiction writing at UC San Diego and MiraCosta College. You can learn more at her website.
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