Ben being Ben, he stayed focused. He didn’t reach out for her. He wasn’t the type to crowd or plow through boundaries. “What?”

“Live in hiding anymore.”

His forehead wrinkled in what looked like confusion. “Okay. But I was talking about Evan and the photos.”

“It’s all mixed together.”

Ben visibly took a long breath. “Slow down and tell me how.”

“Do you know who Evan is?” She didn’t see Ben as part of some big conspiracy against her, but her past life had been complicated and dangerous and she didn’t recognize either of those things until she walked into a disaster.

“I know he’s with the Marshals Service and I know what the people there do. I don’t think you’re a fugitive on the run or I’d have agents all over the island.” He hesitated. “So I’m guessing you need protection of some sort . . . or did. It would explain the hiding and minimal contact with people on Whitaker, except for your voice through a telephone.”

He understood enough to get what she was about to say. It was more of an explanation than she’d given anyone in years. “I can’t go back into hiding again. Not back to the kind where my life isn’t my own and I don’t decide anything.”

“I can appreciate wanting . . . I don’t know the right word. Freedom? But this is a serious situation.”

“Which is why I called you. You’re the police. This is your job.”

“I’m not even sure what I’m dealing with other than this one threat. Seeing the other notes won’t answer that fully, but they might help.” He glanced at the paper again. “So would a little bit of background on why you needed Evan in the first place.”

That was asking too much. She didn’t have the energy or will for a full show-and-tell. “Please don’t make me regret calling you.”

“Just the notes then.”

It was a fair request but still she mentally debated it. After a few seconds when she was sure her fingers would refuse to move, she pressed a few buttons and sent the copies to Ben’s phone. “There you go.”

“Thanks.” He let out another breath, this one louder and longer. “I hadn’t planned on sharing this, and I don’t know if it’s related, but we had an attack on the island last night.”

She froze. Everything inside her stopped. She even held her breath. “What?”

“Hansen Rye’s brother is in town and staying at the cabin. He was—”

“Wait, who?”

“Connor.”

“That’s not right.”

Ben’s gaze narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“But . . .” Her breath whooshed out of her. “The cabin is empty.”

“Was.”

“Was?”

“As in not now. I get the impression him coming to Whitaker was a last-minute decision, but he’s here.”