A Deadly Game
Author: Jannine Gallant
Date: 2020-11-13 08:00:00+00:00
Description: A short sequel to A Deadly Love . . . A Deadly Game is part of the Friday the 13th Short Story Series. 13 authors ~ 13 suspenseful tales of murder and mayhem on Friday the 13th. Find all 13 short stories on Amazon. In the heart of the redwoods, a madman plays a deadly game . . . Deep in the redwood forest, a serial killer took the lives of three local women and devastated the small town of Woodvale. All in the name of love. Now, three years later, a delusional psychopath is determined to finish what his brother couldn’t . . . and punish the woman who betrayed him. Sheriff Harley Boone is rocke

Cover Copy

A short sequel to A Deadly Love . . . A Deadly Game is part of the Friday the 13th Short Story Series. 13 authors ~ 13 suspenseful tales of murder and mayhem on Friday the 13th. Find all 13 short stories HERE.

In the heart of the redwoods, a madman plays a deadly game . . .

Deep in the redwood forest, a serial killer took the lives of three local women and devastated the small town of Woodvale. All in the name of love. Now, three years later, a delusional psychopath is determined to finish what his brother couldn’t . . . and punish the woman who betrayed him.

Sheriff Harley Boone is rocked to his core when the mutilated body of a young woman is discovered in the forest. Flashbacks to the gruesome murders that plagued his town won’t let him rest until he finds the man responsible—putting an end to the nightmare, once and for all. Because the killer is still out there, and his next target is the woman Harley loves.

Caroline Farnsworth didn’t believe she’d ever recover from the trauma of discovering her fiancé was a murderer . . . let alone dare to love again. But she’s back in Woodvale to make a new life with Harley—only to face the unimaginable. With a killer stalking her every move, she’s fighting for her future . . . if she survives.

“Jannine Gallant gives you a satisfying read.”—Kat Martin, New York Times bestselling author

“Jannine Gallant is an exciting new voice in romantic suspense.”—Mary Burton, New York Times bestselling author

“Every Step She Takes delivers enough twists and turns to keep the reader guessing until the end.”—Nancy Bush, New York Times bestselling author

“Every Move She Makes will have you looking over your shoulder long after the lights go out.”—Nancy Bush, New York Times bestselling author

“Jannine Gallant is a talented author who knows how to grab your attention and keeps the suspense in high gear until the end.”—RT Book Reviews on Buried Truth

“Gallant’s well-wrought second Siren Cove contemporary…will keep the reader enthralled until the explosive conclusion.”—Publishers Weekly on Lost Innocence

“In Gallant’s gripping third Siren Cove romantic thriller…mystery adds intensity to this fast-faced story.”—Publishers Weekly on Hidden Secrets

Books by Jannine Gallant

Counterstrike

Fatal Encounter

Lethal Memory

Imminent Danger

Ominous Legacy

Siren Cove

Buried Truth

Lost Innocence

Hidden Secrets

Born To Be Wilde

Wilde One

Wilde Side

Wilde Thing

Wilde Horses

Who’s Watching Now

Every Move She Makes

Every Step She Takes

Every Vow She Breaks

Secrets Of Ravenswood

We’ll Never Tell

She’ll Never Rest

He’ll Never Know

Redemption Texas

Nothing But Trouble

Asking For Trouble

A Deadly Love

Road To Serendipity

An Uncertain Destiny

Bittersweet

A Deadly Game

A Friday the 13th Mystery

Short Story Sequel to A Deadly Love

Jannine Gallant

Table of Contents

Cover Copy

Other Books

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

About the Author

Copyright

A Deadly Game

Copyright © 2020 by Jannine Gallant

This book is a work of fiction and all characters exist solely in the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any references to places, events or locales are used in a fictitious manner.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from Jannine Gallant.

Cover Art by Creative Author Services

Published by Jannine Gallant

United States of America

First Electronic Edition: November 2020

Dedication

To my author pals who make this writing journey so much fun!

Chapter One

Staring into the swollen, red-rimmed eyes of the woman tied to the giant redwood tree, Damien Grissom smiled in satisfaction.

Night had fallen, dark and moonless, while he’d chased her through the woods, drawing ever closer as she sobbed and stumbled through the huckleberry bushes and poison oak. When he’d put on a final burst of speed and reached out to grab her messy, blond ponytail, yanking her off her feet, euphoria had surged like a raging torrent.

Game over. Despite the head start he’d given her, he’d still won easily. His bitch of a foster mother, who’d taunted him for being a weakling as a child, could roast in hell knowing he was stronger and faster than he looked.

“Why?” Her voice rose in a shriek.

His attention jerked back to the pathetic woman shivering at his feet. Not that anyone would hear her this deep in the old-growth forest. A cold November wind carrying a hint of rain blew through the trees and rustled the branches high overhead as her cry was swallowed by the night.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

He pulled a knife from the sheaf he wore tied to his leg and held it up in the glare of his headlamp, letting the light shine up and down the long, deadly blade. “Practice.”

“Huh?” Her jaw sagged open. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you don’t matter. Not in the least. I just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t fail when it came to the main event. Practice makes perfect. Right?” He chuckled softly. “Tonight is about perfecting my technique.”

“Let me go.” She gazed up at him with terror-filled eyes. “You caught me. If I’m not important, you can turn me loose.”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” His tone was conversational. “There’s more to the game than just the chase. What comes next could be a little tricky.”

“Sick freak!” Her voice broke on a sob. “I heard about those women that monster killed here three years ago, but he’s dead and buried.”

“Elliot wasn’t a monster.” His words slashed through her incessant weeping.

“I thought I’d be safer in Woodvale than on the streets of L.A.” She ranted on and on, ignoring his interruption. “Friday the thirteenth, and who do I happen across? Some lame-ass, copycat killer.” Her laughter was edged with hysteria. “Talk about your bad luck.”

His chest rose and fell as he held his temper. “I have to finish what my brother started. I owe him that much. He always did his best to protect me, even though they beat the shit out of both of us.”

Finally, she stopped crying and stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about, you crazy bastard?” She yanked hard against the ropes digging into her flesh beneath the long, white nightgown, but his knots didn’t budge.

“I’m talking about Caroline.” Her name slid off his tongue on a sigh. “He killed those other women out of love for her, and now she plans to betray his memory. Slut!” Spittle flew, and he wiped his lips. “Elliot wouldn’t have minded if she’d turned to me for comfort. But instead, she gave herself to the man who chased him down like a rabid animal.”

“You’re pathetic.” The woman broke down sobbing again. “If you won’t let me go, then kill me and get it over with.”

“I’m not in a rush.” When he stepped closer, she cringed, and he smiled in satisfaction. This meaningless little bitch might belittle him, but he held all the power.

“Impotent asshole!” She yanked harder. “Let me go! It isn’t my fault some woman doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Caroline liked me well enough before he showed up.” Anger burned in his gut, and his hand shook as he tightened his grip on the knife. “We could have been happy together like she was with Elliot if she’d just given me a chance.”

“Caroline? Are you talking about the other woman staying at the bed and breakfast?”

“For now, maybe. It’s only a matter of time until she moves in with that creep.” Just saying the words made him want to lash out.

“If that’s true, then she’s the one who should pay, not me. She’s the one who broke your heart. Please don’t kill me. Please!”

Her whiny cries screeched across his nerve endings until he wanted to cover his ears. “Shut up! Just shut up. It’s time.”

Mucus mixed with the tears running down her face. “What are you going to do to me?”

He gripped the front of the white nightgown, just like the one their foster mother had worn. Attention to detail was important, and he wanted this time to be exactly like the last.

“I intend to do what my brother did. I’m going to cut out your heart.”

* * * *

Jesse Tremayne walked slowly through the forest, his arthritis paining him some as a gentle rain fell. The night before, he’d heard faint sounds, like the cry of a bird deep in the forest. They’d woken him from a light slumber. He never seemed to sleep soundly anymore, what with having to get up to pee every few hours. Getting old was a bitch.

He used his walking stick to swish aside a clump of ferns as he trudged onward.

The thing was, birds didn’t chirp in the dark of night. Except for owls, and what he’d heard hadn’t sounded like an owl hooting.

The hair had stood up on the back of his neck as his mind flashed to the awful winter three years before when shrill cries had woken him on more than one night. Three young women had lost their lives, and he’d been unlucky enough to find the first body. A sight he’d never forget.

A shudder worked through him as he pushed the memory aside.

Still, he’d gotten up at first light, ate a bowl of oatmeal, and left his cabin to tromp through the wet forest. Keeping his eyes peeled—just in case he hadn’t been imagining things. When something white caught his eye through a stand of Sitka spruce, his steps faltered.

“Please, God, no.”

Running a trembling hand over his long, white beard, Jesse pressed his palm hard against his jacket front where his heart pounded erratically. On unsteady legs, he pushed through the bushes and stopped in front of a giant redwood.

“Nooooo.” His voice cracked.

The woman’s head hung downward, her dark-blond hair dripping from the rain. A white cotton nightgown was wrapped around her legs, and her arms were pulled behind her and tied with a rope to the tree.

There was no need to step any closer to confirm she was dead. The ghastly, bloody hole in her chest made survival an impossibility.

He fumbled his cell phone, nearly dropping it as he pulled it from his pocket and pushed the buttons to connect to his grandson. Dillon picked up on the second ring.

“Morning, Grandpa. Did you sleep well?”

“No, I’m afraid I didn’t.” He swallowed hard. “I heard noises in the woods last night.”

“Are you okay? You sound funny.”

“I got up early to investigate.” Even though his breakfast threatened to come back up, he couldn’t drag his gaze away from the woman. “I found her.”

“Grandpa, what’s wrong?” Dillon’s voice deepened with concern. “Found who?”

“A girl, just like the others. Dead in the woods with her heart cut out. It’s happening all over again. A madman is loose in our forest.”

Chapter Two

Harley Boone held his phone clamped to one ear while he drove his sheriff’s rig like a bat out of hell through town, not even slowing for the stop signs. “Jesse doesn’t recognize the woman?”

“Grandpa wasn’t sure. I told him to stay back so he wouldn’t contaminate the crime scene. He couldn’t get a good look at her face, but he did say she’s blond.”

Relief flooded through him. Not Caroline, thank God. He’d tried to call her while he was eating breakfast, before Dillon had reached him to report his grandfather’s horrific news, but she hadn’t answered her phone.

“I’m turning onto your road now.” His tires screeched as he took the corner. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He disconnected and dropped his cell on the seat. Pressing harder on the accelerator, he covered the last mile in record time and rocked to a stop in front of his buddy’s home at the end of the dead-end road.

Dillon left the house and met him in the front yard, his green-gold eyes shadowed with a mix of emotions. Anger. Fear. Sorrow. He’d nearly lost Brooke, the woman who was now his wife, to a serial killer three years before. She stood on the doorstep, holding their eighteen-month-old daughter, Jessica June, on her hip as she stared at him across the lawn.

“Where’s your grandpa now?”

Dillon ran an unsteady hand through his hair. “I told him to head back to his cabin, that we’d meet him there. The dead woman was left a good mile from his place, off the beaten track. If he hadn’t heard noises in the night and gone looking in that direction, she could have been out there for days, even weeks before her remains were found.”

“Let’s head out, then.” Harley glanced up at the cloudy sky. “At least the rain seems to be letting up. Once I see what we’re dealing with, I can call the state police for backup. There’s not much I’ll be able to do without a forensics team.”

“I’ll grab a jacket.”

As his friend ran back toward the house, Harley turned to stare at the bed and breakfast on the other side of the cul-de-sac. Caroline was staying at Ransom House with Brook’s Grandma June rather than moving straight in with him. She was still hedging on living together, even though she’d committed to moving back to Woodvale and had given up her house in Eureka.

He’d hoped to spend the next few days convincing her they were ready to take their relationship to the next level, not investigating what sounded like one hell of a gruesome murder.

Dillon kissed his wife, stroked his daughter’s blond hair, and then shoved their giant mongrel dog back into the house before hurrying across the grass. “I’m ready.”

Side by side, they strode toward the path leading into the woods. Neither had much to say as they hiked deeper into the old growth forest. Not until the smoke from Jesse’s wood stove became visible, filtering through the redwoods.

“I can’t believe Grandpa has to go through this all over again. He’s too old to take this kind of stress. The last time tore him up.”

“I hear you.” Harley glanced over his shoulder. “Some asshole, psycho, copycat killer, bringing back awful memories for all of us.”

“That’s what you think this is? Some fan of Elliot Locke’s, trying to make a name for himself in some twisted way by copying his murders?”

“If what you described is accurate, right down to the old-fashioned white nightgown the woman was wearing, I don’t know what else we can think.” He pushed aside a low-hanging fir branch. “I can’t imagine how Caroline will feel when she hears the news.”

“She’ll have you to lean on, and she’s one hell of a strong woman. Had to be after what Elliot put her through.”

Harley didn’t respond, hoping the woman he loved wouldn’t sink back into the dark place that had nearly consumed her after discovering her fiancé was a monster. She’d fought hard to put the past behind her and start over, and the last thing she needed was some bastard dredging up those memories.

“There’s Grandpa.”

Jesse left his cabin to walk across the small clearing toward them. When his grandson slung an arm around his shoulders in a quick hug, the old man straightened his spine. “You got here quick. Let’s get this over with.”

They set off, heading south-east, following Jesse’s lead. He kept a steady pace, trudging through bushes and ferns, finally slowing to a stop.

“She’s just ahead on the other side of that stand of spruce.”

“Why don’t you take a seat on that log, Grandpa.” Dillon took his arm and guided him toward a fallen tree. “We’ll be back to ask any questions Harley may have in a few minutes.”

Jesse nodded and dropped onto the rotted trunk. His hands trembled as he clenched them around his walking stick. “I’ll admit I’m not anxious to see her again.”

Leaving the elderly man, Harley pushed through the wet branches and came to an abrupt halt. The woman was just as Jesse had described her. Bound to a giant tree trunk, head hanging forward over her massacred chest. Whoever had carved her up hadn’t been as skilled with a knife as Elliot had been. A shudder rippled through him.

“Jesus.” Dillon’s face lost some of its color.

“It’s bad. Worse than I imagined.”

Harley pulled a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and put them on before approaching the woman. With care, he raised her chin, and her straggling hair fell away from her face. Hazel eyes stared blankly, frozen in a look of sheer horror.

“She looks vaguely familiar, like I’ve seen her around somewhere.”

Dillon stepped up beside him and swallowed hard. “She’s been staying at June’s place for the last few days. I think her name is Traci.”

The memory snapped into place. “I passed her leaving the bed and breakfast when I picked up Caroline for a date the night before last.”

“Brooke mentioned she’s a photographer here on a working vacation. Maybe the person who killed her was an ex or something. June will know more about her.”

Harley used his phone to take several pictures. “I’ll send these to the law enforcement database and call the state police.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay out of this and let them handle the case?”

“Hell, no, but I’ll take whatever help I can get. As much as I’d like to believe this is over and done with, and the killer is halfway back to wherever he came from—” He broke off as his stomach churned.

“You don’t.” Dillon’s tone was abrupt.

“Afraid not.” Harley clenched his fists at his sides. “I have a sick feeling this is just the beginning.”

Chapter Three

The spider crawled up the ornate handle and across her fingers, quicker than a striking rattlesnake. With a shriek, Caroline Farnsworth dropped the mirror on the tile counter, shattering the glass. As the hairy monster scurried to safety through a crack in the caulking behind the sink, she closed her eyes and swore silently. The mirror had originally belonged to her great-grandmother and had survived multiple cross-country moves. Leave it to her to break one of her few family heirlooms.

Carefully, she picked up the broken pieces and dropped them in the trash, still managing to nick herself. Grabbing a tissue from the box, she held it to the cut to stop the bleeding and wondered if her day could get any worse. Stormy gray eyes stared back at her from the wall mirror, and angry spots of color darkened her cheeks. Considering it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet, there was still plenty of time for more bad luck.

Turning her back to the mirror, she craned her neck to see if the French braid she’d styled her long, brown hair into was straight. Deciding it would have to do, she grabbed a chunky knit sweater to ward off the morning chill. After Sliding her arms through the sleeves, she left her room to head downstairs.

An amazing aroma and the sound of voices drifted from the kitchen. She entered the room to find her hostess talking to her granddaughter. June Ransom was a spunky octogenarian dressed in a pair of teal leggings and a tie-dye shirt. Her white hair hung down her back in a long braid similar to Caroline’s own. Brooke said something she couldn’t quite hear before both women turned to face her.

“Good morning.” Caroline’s voice faltered. “Are you feeling okay, June?”

The elderly woman’s face was pale, and her hands shook as she wiped them on her apron. “I’m fine. Would you like a fresh blueberry muffin for breakfast, honey? How about some scrambled eggs? I was just going to make some for the kids.”

Brooke’s nine-year-old stepson, Zack, sat at the table by the window, his head bent over a large sheet of paper. Crayons were scattered across the polished surface. Her toddler, Jessica, scribbled furiously on her own paper and babbled happily.

“Just a muffin is fine. Harley and I are supposed to drive to the beach this morning to do a little tide pooling since it’s his day off, but I missed his call while I was in the shower. He may be on his way over now since he didn’t answer his phone.”

The two women exchanged a glance before Brooke took her arm and pulled her farther away from the kids. “Harley is out in the woods right now. There was . . . an incident.”

Her chest squeezed tight until drawing breath became an effort. “What happened?”

“A woman was killed, and Jesse found her. I don’t know much more than that, but I’m sure Harley and Dillon will come straight over here when they get back.”

Caroline felt for the doorframe behind her and gripped it tightly. “Was it an accident?”

“Afraid not.” She stopped speaking when the kitchen door opened, and Dillon stepped inside.

Harley followed. His lips were drawn into a tight line, and his deep brown eyes were shuttered. Caroline recognized the protective walls he’d put up because it had taken her a couple of years to pull down her own. She’d lost so much of herself after discovering her fiancé was so very sick and twisted. But blaming herself for his actions hadn’t helped. Only now, with Harley’s love and understanding, was she finally finding some peace.

Except she had an awful feeling her world was about to be shattered like the mirror she’d dropped earlier.

“Who was the woman?” She held her breath, waiting for his response.

Dillon picked up his daughter and scooted Zack’s chair back from the table. “Let’s head home for breakfast.”

His son’s head jerked up from his picture. “But Grandma June made muffins.”

“Your mom will bring some over in a few minutes. Let’s go.”

Zack narrowed his eyes. “Can I watch cartoons?”

“Sure.” Dillon met Brooke’s concerned gaze. “I’ll see you shortly.”

Once the door shut behind them, Harley walked over and placed a warm palm at the small of her back. “Come sit down. You, too, June.”

They moved the papers and crayons and all four sat at the table. Harley took her hand and squeezed it before facing June. “When’s the last time you saw your other guest. Traci, I believe her name is.”

June’s blue eyes widened behind her glasses. “Yes, Traci McGinnis. Yesterday, late in the afternoon. She said she was going for a walk. I didn’t notice when she came back.”

“Did she mention if she was meeting anyone?”

“No. She said she planned to take a few pictures in the rain. She has a fancy camera.”

“A Nikon,” Brooke added. “She’s a photographer and works on consignment for a few magazines. She lives in L.A.”

Caroline nodded. “We talked a couple of times, and she said how much she was enjoying the quiet in Woodvale with no traffic or sirens or close neighbors shouting.” She swallowed hard. “Was Traci the woman you found in the woods?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Although we still need to get an official ID. Dillon said he recognized her.”

Caroline struggled for words. “She’s dead?”

Harley gripped her hand a little tighter. “Someone murdered her.”

Silence followed his words, and the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall sounded unnaturally loud.

“That poor girl.” Tears ran down June’s cheeks, and she took off her glasses to wipe them away. “Who would do such a horrible thing?”

“I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out who the son of a bitch is and lock him up for the rest of his miserable life.” His voice was harsh. “I’d like to search her room, and I need her registration information so I can contact her next of kin.”

“Of course. Anything you want, Harley.” She pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. “I’ll go get that for you now.”

“Thank you, June.”

After she left the room, Caroline pulled her hand away from his and gripped the edge of the table. “What aren’t you saying? I feel like you aren’t telling us something.”

He hesitated and met Brooke’s gaze.

“She’s going to hear the details soon enough. Better if they come from you.”

Caroline took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can take it. Tell me.”

“The M.O. was the same as before.”

“You mean when Elliot . . .”

He nodded and reached for her hand again. “Whoever the bastard is, he cut out that young woman’s heart.”

Chapter Four

It was nearly nine when Harley pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine. A soft glow filtered through drawn blinds on the windows, and the porch light shone brightly in welcome. Caroline’s little Honda was parked near the garbage can he’d forgotten to take in earlier. Knowing she was inside waiting for him eased some of the tension tightening the muscles across his shoulders.

He got out, hit the remote to lock his Explorer, and headed up the walkway to the front entrance. His shoes crunched the shell path and echoed hollowly as he crossed the porch. When he opened the door, the smell of Italian herbs greeted him, and his stomach rumbled.

“Harley?” Caroline stepped out of the kitchen. Her smile was hesitant as she approached him.

He pulled her against his chest and simply held her, needing the warm contact. After several long moments, he tilted her chin upward and kissed her. “Are you hanging in there?”

She nodded. “I cooked. I needed something to keep me busy.”

“Smells like spaghetti.”

“Homemade sauce. Come eat. I kept everything warm since I wasn’t sure when you’d get home.”

“Thanks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” He kissed her again. “Appreciate you. Coming home to you after a day like the one I had makes life bearable.”

“Did you learn anything new?”

“Nothing concrete.” He released her and followed her back to the kitchen. While she dished up two plates with pasta, salad, and garlic bread, he pulled a bottle of chianti out of the pantry and opened it. After pouring two glasses, he joined her at the bar counter. “The state police are looking into Traci McGinnis’s life. So far it doesn’t seem like she had a crazy ex or a co-worker with a serious grudge against her.”

“If she did, why would he have followed her clear to Woodvale to kill her?” She fiddled with her fork and stared down at her food. “Why would he carve her up the same way Elliot did.”

“I agree it doesn’t make a lot of sense. A copycat killer would be more likely to choose a random victim.”

Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “Even though Elliot’s victims weren’t at all random? Even though he killed only women he’d loved in the past as some sort of sick tribute to me?”

Harley laid his hand over hers and squeezed. “None of the blame for his actions is on you. None. The guy was seriously messed up.”

“I know. His foster parents abused him, not that anything excuses what he did. Still, I can’t help wondering if Traci was killed because I came back to Woodvale.” She picked up her wine glass and took a swallow. “Don’t you find it strange that nothing happened in nearly three years, not until I returned.”

“I don’t think this has anything to do with you, but I wonder about a connection to Elliot.” He forked up a bite of spaghetti and chewed before putting his thoughts into words. “The killings here got media attention right after they happened and then faded out of the national spotlight since the killer was dead. No trial to keep talk about the murders going. Which is why I can’t imagine some random psycho decided to emulate what Elliot did at this late date.”

“You think Traci’s killer knew him?” She picked at her salad and finally put a chunk of tomato in her mouth.

“We can eat first before we discuss this. The conversation is obviously ruining your appetite, and I don’t want such a terrific dinner to go to waste.”

She responded with a hint of a smile. “I didn’t have an appetite to ruin. Say what’s on your mind.”

Finally, he nodded. “I’m wondering if the freak who killed Traci McGinnis was someone close to Elliot. Someone who may have admired him.”

“He didn’t have any family and grew up in foster homes. The majority of his youth was spent with the foster parents who died while he was in college. He rarely talked about his childhood, but once he mentioned a foster brother who was younger, whom he tried to protect. I guess the boy was bullied.”

“As I remember, his foster parents were killed in an explosion. A gas leak in their home. They’d left Woodvale and were living in Eureka at the time. The police looked into the accident after the murders here, but they didn’t find any definitive proof Elliot killed them.” Harley frowned as he steadily forked spaghetti into his mouth. “I vaguely remember another boy living here with them back when I was in high school. Did you ever meet his foster brother?”

She shook her head. “No, never.”

“Did he mention the kid’s name?”

“I’m afraid not. Elliot didn’t discuss his family. He didn’t have many old friends, either. Not that I knew about, anyway. Once he moved back here and started teaching, he mostly kept to himself. After we started dating, he was a little more social.”

“I’ll try to track down the foster brother. That sounds like our best lead.” He pushed his plate away and turned to face her. “Have you thought more about moving in with me?”

“Yeah, I have. Substitute teaching up in Crescent City has been keeping me pretty busy, but Christmas break will start in a month . . .”

“And you’ll work full time here in town after the new year.”

She sipped her wine. “I’m looking forward to having my old job back. Lucky for me, Lorna decided to return to Oregon.”

He picked up her hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. “So . . .”

“I was thinking we could pull my stuff out of storage over the winter holiday, and I could move in then. Although I don’t know how we’ll be able to fit all my furniture into this place.”

A slow smile grew as he leaned in to kiss her, taking his time until they were both breathless. “We’ll keep your good furniture and give away my crap. I needed some terrific news today.”

“We both did. You’ve been so kind and patient with me over this last year. I love you, Harley.”

“I love you, too.”

“I want to simply be happy, but I can’t stop thinking about Traci. That poor girl should have had her whole life to live. Until we know who killed her—”

“I don’t want you walking in the woods alone.” He stroked a strand of hair off her cheek as uneasiness stirred in his gut. “I hope to God her murder wasn’t the beginning of something worse, but every woman in town needs to be cautious right now. I sent my deputy out to knock on doors and spread the word.”

“I won’t do anything foolhardy. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you or anyone else in my town.” His tone was grim. “Because I’m going to nail this bastard. You can count on it.”

Chapter Five

Caroline stood on her toes to slide her fingers through Harley’s hair as he bent to kiss her good-bye. “Have a good day.”

“Good would be a stretch. I’m hoping for productive. I’m sorry our weekend plans got scrapped.”

She touched his freshly shaved cheek. “And I’m sorry you aren’t getting Sunday off. Anyway, I have twenty-two fifth grade short stories to read. I heard some of the boys talking about an alien invasion, so they should be entertaining.”

“Sounds a whole lot more fun than what I’ll be doing.” The light in his eyes faded. “I’ll see you tonight.”

With a final kiss, she pulled open the door and stepped out onto the porch. Fog swirled thickly, hanging in the trees. Shivering, she hurried to her car, tossed her purse on the passenger seat, climbed in, and started the engine. Cold air blew through the heat vents, but she didn’t wait for the motor to warm up. She knew Harley was in a hurry to get to work and wouldn’t leave until she did.

Flipping on the headlights to combat the gloom, she headed toward the bed and breakfast on the other side of town. She was on the home stretch, a half-mile from her destination, when her car sputtered and jerked. After chugging forward a few yards, she glided to the edge of the asphalt where the engine died.

“Are you kidding me!” She smacked her hand against the steering wheel and cranked the ignition. Nothing happened.

With a sigh, she pulled her wallet from her purse, found her auto club card, and tapped the number into her phone. After giving the operator her account information and location, she was informed it would be at least an hour before an associate would be available to tow her.

“Can you tell the driver I’ll be at Ransom House Bed and Breakfast at the end of the street? I don’t want to sit in the car for that long.”

“I will, and he’ll have your cell number to call you if there’s any problem. Where would you like him to take your vehicle?”

“To Rod’s Garage in town.”

“I’ll make a note of it. Have a nice day.”

“You, too.” Caroline disconnected and sat for a minute, staring into the fog-shrouded woods. She’d passed the last house, and there was nothing but trees between her and the two homes at the far end of the road.

Making up her mind, she slung her purse strap over her shoulder, stuck the key under the mat, and left the car unlocked. She wouldn’t call Harley for a ride, not when she knew how busy he was. It would take less than ten minutes to get to June’s place if she walked fast.

Nerves settled in as she hurried down the road, her short-heeled boots tapping softly. Not that there was a living soul anywhere nearby. . . At least she didn’t think there was. The fog seemed to be getting thicker, and she could barely see ten feet in front of her. When a stick snapped somewhere to her right, she turned to stare as goose bumps pebbled her skin.

“It’s nothing.” She picked up her pace to a near run. “Probably just a squirrel,” she muttered.

Except it would take something heavier than a rodent to snap a stick. Straining her ears, she could swear a second set of footfalls accompanied her own. Difficult to tell over the pounding of her heart.

She broke into a sprint, her purse slapping against her side as she ran. When headlight beams skewered her from behind, she darted toward the left, away from the noises in the woods.

Harley’s Explorer pulled even with her as he rolled down the window. “What the hell are you doing, Caroline? I nearly had a heart attack when I saw your car on the side of the road, and you weren’t in it.”

Relief sparked her temper, and she gripped her trembling hands into fists. “Yeah, well you scared me to death, coming up behind me like that.”

“Get in.”

She walked around the front of his vehicle and pulled open the door. Once she slid onto the seat, he turned to face her.

“What happened?”

“My car broke down. Some problem with the engine. I called for a tow, but it was going to be awhile, so I decided to walk to June’s.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” He sounded like he was barely controlling the urge to shout.

“Because I know you’re busy, and it’s only a half-mile.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m never too busy. Never.”

“Okay. I made a stupid decision.” She gripped her knees through the denim of her jeans. “When I thought I heard something in the woods, I regretted leaving my car.”

His eyes widened. “What did you hear?”

“A stick snapped. A couple of soft thumps that might have been footsteps. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things since I was so freaked out at that point.”

Harley pulled to the edge of the road and turned off the engine. “Which side?”

“The right. What are you—”

“I’m going to check it out.” He stepped onto the pavement. “Lock the doors and sit tight.”

“Be careful.”

With a nod, he shut the door. As she reached over to hit the locks, he pulled his flashlight off his belt and disappeared into the trees. The bright beam swung right and left before fading into the fog.

Caroline wrapped her arms around her middle and waited, fear for Harley escalating with each passing minute. Even though she knew he was armed. If some creep—or worse, a killer—was lurking in the forest, he had more than likely bolted when the sheriff’s vehicle pulled up. After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only twenty minutes, Harley appeared at the driver’s side door and tapped on the window. She popped the locks.

“Anything?”

Shaking his head, he slid onto the seat, started the engine, and drove the rest of the way to the bed and breakfast. Once he parked in the driveway, he turned to face her. “Someone was definitely out there.”

Caroline swallowed as her stomach churned.

“The ferns were all trampled down back near where your car was parked.”

“You think someone was there in the woods, watching me while I called roadside service?”

“That’s what I would guess. Based on the pattern of disruption in the foliage, the person—let’s assume it was a man—ran in from about a hundred yards to the south and then followed your progress north up the street. Did you notice a car parked along the side of the road?”

She shook her head, unable to force out words.

“I didn’t either. He probably left his vehicle in one of the driveways at the other end of the street. A couple of those houses are vacation homes without a fulltime resident.”

“Do you think he might have broken into one of them?”

“I’ll check to see if any of them are occupied on my way out. I planned to ask Jesse a few more questions, which was the reason I drove out here in the first place, but those can wait.”

She sat silently, staring through the windshield. “If you hadn’t come when you did . . .”

“Don’t.” He rested a hand on her arm. “I have a crap ton of work to do today, but I’ll come over tonight. We can talk then.”

With a nod, she opened the door. “Thank you, Harley. I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t be. I have to go. I love you.”

She swallowed. “I love you, too.”

Chapter Six

The cheerful sound of children laughing drifted from the kitchen as Harley entered the bed and breakfast. After shutting the door, he leaned against it for a moment, absorbing the warmth and comfort inside these walls. When Caroline appeared down the hall, he straightened.

“I thought I heard a car outside and figured it was you.” She stopped a few feet in front of him, and her gray eyes darkened. “You look exhausted.”

He slid his arms around her and hugged her close. “It was a rough day. Traci McGinnis’s parents arrived to officially identify her body. That wasn’t an easy conversation.”

“I can only imagine. I’m sorry.” After pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, she stepped back, took his hand, and pulled him toward the kitchen. “Dillon and Brooke stopped by with the kids. June is babysitting tonight, and Brooke invited us to go to dinner with them. She figured a change of pace would do us all good.”

“Sure. I could use a break.” He offered a tired smile as he entered the bright room where June was dishing up bowls of tomato soup for the kids. A plate of gooey grilled cheese sandwiches rested on the table, and his stomach growled. “Evening everyone.”

Dillon glanced over and gave him a hopeful look. “Any news?”

“We made a little progress. We can talk about it later. I hear we’re invited to an evening out on the town.”

Brooke nodded. “I thought dinner at the Woodvale Inn would be fun for a change.” She kissed her daughter’s rosy cheek. “You be good for Grandma.”

Jessica pounded her highchair tray and laughed as she tossed a Gold Fish to Otis. The Irish Wolfhound mix snapped the treat up in mid-air and waited for more, his tail thumping the tile floor.

Zach reached for a sandwich. “Yeah, right. When is she ever good?”

Brooke smiled and ruffled his hair. “I can dream.” She gave her grandmother a hug. “Thanks for watching them.”

June beamed. “You know I love every minute. Enjoy your dinner.”

“We plan to.” Dillon followed the group outside into the damp night air. “We’ll drive my truck and follow you.”

Harley nodded, hit the remote to unlock his SUV, then opened the passenger door for Caroline. “See you there.”

A minute later they were headed back down the road toward town. When they passed the spot where her car had stalled, she tensed slightly.

“I noticed your Honda was parked in the driveway.”

“Rod said there was a blockage in the fuel line. He flushed out the system and fixed the problem, although he wasn’t sure how gravel got sucked into the line.”

Harley frowned. “That does seem strange. Did he bring the car back to you?”

“Brooke took me to the garage to pick it up since she had errands to run. I wasn’t stupid enough to walk into town alone.”

He gave her a sharp glance before a sigh slipped out. “I certainly don’t think you’re stupid. And I’m sorry I yelled this morning.”

A hint of a smile curved her lips. “You didn’t yell. You only wanted to.”

“Good thing I have some restraint.” He parked in the lot next to the inn. “Let’s try to forget about all the crap happening and have a good time tonight.”

“Excellent idea. A quick update to satisfy Dillon’s need to know, and then we’ll change the subject.”

They got out and headed into the restaurant. By the time the hostess had a table ready, their friends had arrived. Between the soft music playing in the background, the rustic décor, and the rich aromas drifting from the kitchen, Harley could feel his tension easing.

After ordering drinks, Dillon leaned forward, his expression sober. “Are you any closer to knowing who killed that poor woman?”

“The state police haven’t found any obvious suspects in her personal life with a reason to harm her. They’ll keep digging, but we’re inclined to believe Traci was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. This lowlife is probably a copy-cat, getting off on recreating Elliot’s crimes.”

“That sucks. So now what?”

“I was busy with the McGinnises today, along with making sure all the evidence was processed correctly, but I’ll start researching people from Elliot’s past tomorrow. If there’s a psycho in the bunch, we’ll have a place to start.”

Harley covered Caroline’s clenched fist where it rested on the table. “I checked the vacation rentals on your street. None of them had been broken into, and no one was around. One of them might have been occupied recently, but the cleaning crews don’t always come in right after guests leave.” He frowned. “If this freak is camping out in the woods, it’ll be nearly impossible to find him.”

Brooke’s blue eyes were wide, and her face had lost some of its color. “Thanks for the update, but let’s talk about something more pleasant. I could use some good news about now.”

Caroline turned her hand over and threaded her fingers through his. “I’m moving in with Harley over Christmas break.”

“That’s terrific!” Brooke squeezed her arm. “Although I’ll miss having you right next door.”

“We can still hike together. I won’t be that far away.”

“I don’t want either of you hiking out in the woods until we catch this guy. No arguments.” Harley’s tone was abrupt.

“You darn sure won’t get one from me.” Brooke picked up her menu. “What looks good?”

When the server brought their drinks a few minutes later, he released Caroline’s hand and took a healthy swallow of his cocktail. “Are we ready to order?”

The conversation turned general as the evening progressed. They ate their excellent meal and relaxed with a bottle of wine. Caroline’s face glowed as she talked to Brooke about getting her old job back in January, and he realized just how much she’d sacrificed to return to Woodvale. Substitute teaching was a far cry from the full-time classroom she’d left in Eureka to be closer to him. His mind drifted to the engagement ring stashed in his desk drawer. Where it would stay until he figured out the perfect way to propose.

When Brooke’s phone rang while they were finishing the last of the wine, she pulled her cell from her purse and glanced at the screen. “Grandma.” She pushed back her chair. “I’ll take it in the lobby.”

While she hurried through the restaurant with the phone pressed to her ear, Caroline also stood. “I’ll use the ladies’ room and be right back.”

As she walked away, Dillon set his empty glass on the table. “This was nice. Caroline’s changed you.”

Harley’s brows shot up. “What do you mean?”

“You’re mellower. She’s rubbed away some of those rough edges.”

“Maybe it was time. Hell, I turned thirty-six last month.”

Dillon brought his elbows down on the table. “Are you going to marry her?”

“If she’ll have me.” He scowled. “Don’t say anything since I haven’t asked her yet.”

His buddy laughed softly. “My lips are zipped. Congrats, dude.”

“Let’s hope she agrees.” Harley’s gaze went past him to the restaurant entrance. “Who’s that guy Brooke’s talking to?”

Dillon turned in his chair and shrugged. “I’ve never seen him before. But Brooke is smiling, so whatever June called her about must not have been too bad.” He faced forward again. “That’s what you have to look forward to. Babies worrying you and keeping you up all night. Fun times.”

Harley rolled his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Seven

The nook off the lobby had a perfect view of their table, and he hadn’t been able to resist watching. Despite the fact that seeing Caroline hold hands with the asshole sheriff had nearly sent his blood pressure through the stratosphere.

He was lurking in the shadows behind the giant hanging fern when the blonde who’d been eating with Caroline and the two men nearly ran into him.

“Oh, my gosh. Excuse me. I didn’t see you there.” She pushed her phone into her purse and smiled.

“My fault. I dropped my room key and was looking for it. But it doesn’t seem to be here.”

“They can probably get you a new one at the front desk.”

He nodded. “As long as someone doesn’t find it and come barging in while I’m snoring away tonight.”

“Better snoring than . . . never mind.” Her cheeks turned pink. “Enjoy your stay in Woodvale.”

“Thanks. I plan to.”

As the woman returned to her table, he scurred across the lobby and down the hallway leading to the bathrooms. Caroline had disappeared into the ladies’ room a few minutes before, and he’d been debating whether to risk speaking to her. Maybe not a smart move, but he couldn’t stop himself . . .

The door opened, and she stepped out. Her eyes widened. “Well, hello there. I certainly didn’t expect to run into you here. How are you?”

“I’m good.” Damien smiled shyly, the way he always did when he saw her. “I drove up to Crescent City to visit a friend over the weekend, and he mentioned the Woodvale Inn served a mean bowl of chili, so I stopped on my way home.” Am I over-explaining? He forced himself to quit talking and simply stared into her calm gray eyes, regretting she’d made what he intended to do necessary. “Do you miss Eureka since you moved away?”

“I miss walking past the harbor and seeing all the fishing boats and listening to the fog horn blow. But I’ve always been a sucker for the redwoods. This place is home to me.”

With an effort, he controlled the anger burning in his chest. Letting out the breath he’d been holding, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting from her. That she’d say she missed him?

“Woodvale is a pretty little town.”

“Yes, it is.” She edged by him. “I should get back to my friends. It was good seeing you.”

“Yeah. Good to see you, too.”

After she disappeared around the corner, he slumped against the wall. When he finally got his breathing under control, he headed back down the hall and stopped.

Caroline stood near the open doors leading into the restaurant, talking to a man who looked vaguely familiar. Damien had seen him around Eureka off and on over the years. Once, he’d spoken casually to him at a party, but the guy’s name escaped him.

The fewer people who knew he was in Woodvale, the better. He was dead certain Caroline wouldn’t mention their encounter. Sometimes, he wondered if she even remembered his name.

When they were both looking the other way, he hurried out the lobby door and disappeared into the night.

* * * *

Caroline slipped onto her chair and grimaced. “Sorry I was gone so long. I ran into a couple of men I knew slightly in Eureka and spoke to them for a few minutes.”

Harley raised a brow as he waved to their server. “Should I be jealous?”

She laughed out loud. “I don’t think so. One is the IT guy who fixes our computer issues at school, and the other is a cook at the place I liked to eat breakfast. Both are nice, but neither are my type. At least not anymore.”

Brooke gave him a teasing look. “Now, Caroline is into ruggedly handsome with a side of dark and brooding.”

“Funny.” When their server approached with the check, Harley tossed a credit card onto the tray. When Dillon dropped his card on top, he handed the tray to the server. “You can split it evenly.”

The woman nodded. “I’ll do that, Sheriff Boone. I hope you enjoyed your meal.”

Caroline smiled. “It was excellent. Thank the chef for us, please.”

“I’ll be sure to do that. Be right back.”

They left the inn a few minutes later, and Caroline gave Brooke a hug in the parking lot. “Thanks for thinking of this. I had a great time.”

“We all needed an evening out. Good night, you two.”

As the other couple walked over to Dillon’s truck, Harley hit the remote to unlock his Explorer. He opened the passenger door for Caroline, and then ran around to his side. Once they were seated, he turned to face her. “Do you want to go back to your room or come home with me? I know you have school in the morning.”

She rested her hand on his thigh. “Depends on whether you mind getting up early to drop me off at the bed and breakfast so I can dress for work.”

Reaching across the cab, he cupped her chin in his warm palm and bent to kiss her. “Honey, I don’t mind at all.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

He stuck the key in the ignition, flipped on the headlights, and frowned as he peered through the windshield. “Did you see that?”

“What?” She’d been too busy looking at him, admiring the hard planes and angles of his face highlighted in shadows by the streetlight.

“Something rustled in that bush, and I swear I saw the glow of eyes in the beams. Probably just a dog running loose.”

“Do you need to check it out?”

Turning her way, he held her gaze for a long moment before shaking his head. “No. Let’s go home.”

Chapter Eight

School records from twenty years earlier revealed the name of Elliot’s foster brother, along with a black and white picture. Which wasn’t a hell of a lot of help. Damien Grissom’s hair was light in color, and his nose was long and narrow with freckles scattered across the bridge.

Harley frowned as vague memories of the younger boy hanging around town surfaced. They hadn’t been in school together. Damien was five years younger and had attended the two-room grade school in Woodvale while Harley and Elliot were in high school in Crescent City. Still, something about the kid in the old photo looked familiar, so he must have made some sort of impression.

Maybe he could find a more recent photograph—like a mug shot—in the database.

An hour later, he pushed back his desk chair and let out a frustrated breath. Grissom had attended high school in Eureka after his foster parents moved there, but apparently he hadn’t shown up for picture day. And he hadn’t been involved in any sports or clubs. The kid had been a ghost during his teenage years, and that hadn’t changed after graduation. His social security number turned up one construction job in the Bay Area that had lasted a few months, and another working at a video store in Mendocino. By the time the guy turned twenty, he’d disappeared completely. No employment record or apartment application. No social media presence. Not one damn indication the man was still alive.

Unless he had created a new identity.

Harley drummed his fingers on his desk. There had to be some way to track him. Squaring up to the computer, he pulled up Elliot Locke’s old social media accounts, inactivated after his death. The man hadn’t posted often, mostly photos of Caroline the last couple of years. Looking at pictures of her with that monster made his stomach churn. She’d been deceived, just like the women he’d killed. No one had suspected the quiet school teacher of harboring psychotic and violent urges. All in the name of love.

Gritting his teeth, he scrolled backward through the years and paused on a photo of Elliot holding up a salmon. A man stood on the wharf behind him, slightly out of focus against a background of fishing boats moored in a marina. Enlarging the photo only made the quality worse, but the man’s profile was familiar. His hair was covered with a knit cap, and a heavy jacket disguised his build, but he was slightly taller than Elliot.

Harley was pretty damn sure he was Damien Grissom, but the location could be any town on the coast. Except . . . He enlarged the name on the stern of the nearest boat. The Daisy Lynn out of Eureka, California.

“Well, hot damn.” Of course, the photo was eight years old, but Elliot had been fishing with his foster brother in Eureka. Which meant Grissom might have moved back north after leaving Mendocino.

He saved both the old grade school picture and the fish photo to a file and emailed it to the sheriff’s office in Eureka with a request for information. Possibly, the local cops would recognize the man or get a hit off the facial recognition database.

When his deputy called for backup at a domestic dispute involving a woman threatening her husband with a steak knife, Harley shoved his chair back and headed for the door. Best to help deescalate the situation before one of them did something stupid.

Work didn’t stop just because someone had been murdered and his priorities had shifted. All he could do now was wait for answers . . . and hope like hell he got them.

* * * *

Caroline slammed on her brakes and gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white as a deer bounded across the road mere feet in front of her bumper. Heart pounding, she glanced in the rearview mirror. The last thing she wanted was to get rear-ended in the fog, but she needed a moment to collect herself. This wasn’t the first time she’d nearly hit a deer, but it was definitely the closest.

After pulling to the edge of the county road leading from the highway to Woodvale, she took a couple of deep breaths. Finally, her hands stopped shaking. She let her foot off the brake, only to hit it again when her phone rang. Grabbing her cell off the dash, she checked the screen. Harley.

She swiped to connect. “Hi there.”

“Are you home yet?”

“Almost. I’m about a mile from town. A deer ran right in front of me, and I pulled over for a minute. My nerves were jumping.”

“As long as you aren’t hurt. A big buck would total your car.”

“Luckily, I missed it.” A long sigh slipped out. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”

“Good. Can you come over tonight? I’ll cook.” His tone was hopeful.

“Of course, but I’ll go back to June’s first to get some fresh clothes. That way I won’t have to rush in the morning.”

“Excellent idea. It’ll give us more time to cuddle.”

A grin stretched wide. “Is that what you call it?”

“Sure.” His deep laugh eased the last of her tension. “Hey, I’m just leaving my office now, so I’ll be home when you get there.”

“I—” She broke off and flipped on her flashers as headlights approached behind her.

“What?”

“A car is coming. Hopefully I’m far enough to the side it won’t clip me in the fog.”

But instead of passing, the other vehicle slowed, its bright lights nearly blinding her in the rearview mirror. She lowered her window to wave it around, but the driver pulled up beside her and idled. Fear sent a shiver through her, and she raised her window.

“Harley, the car stopped.” Her voice shook.

“Drive away. Now!”

“I can’t. I’m penned between the SUV and a redwood tree. Maybe I can back up . . .” She turned to see what was behind her. Ferns and manzanita. “I’m not sure if I can make it.”

“Stay in your car and lock the doors. I’m on my way. Don’t try backing up unless the person gets out and approaches you. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Her teeth chattered as she stared at the other vehicle. Seconds ticked by before the driver’s side door opened. “He’s getting out. Oh, God.”

“I see your lights ahead through the trees. Almost there.”

A glow approached, just visible around the bend. When the lights grew brighter, the other driver got back inside his vehicle, slammed the door, and peeled out, roaring up the road toward town. Harley rounded the corner, passed the SUV, and screeched to a stop beside her.

Her finger shook as she lowered the window.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, not sure she could speak coherently.

“I’m going after him. As soon as I flip around, drive straight to my house.”

“All right.” Her voice squeaked.

He pulled forward, made a three-point-turn, and raced away, his powerful engine accelerating loudly. She stared after him as shudders wracked her body. Finally, she shifted into gear and headed for home.

Chapter Nine

Harley drove slowly through town, looking for the old, white 4Runner. He hadn’t been able to get a license number when the car passed him, and the bastard had disappeared from sight by the time he got turned around. Entering his own neighborhood, he cruised by his house, thankful to see Caroline’s Honda in the driveway, and kept going. When he passed the Gates’ home and noticed Rod sitting on the front porch with a beer in his hand, he stopped and rolled down his window.

“Hey, Harley,” the mechanic called. “Making any progress finding the asshole who killed that woman?”

“I have a lead or two. Did you notice an older model, white 4Runner drive by in the last ten minutes?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“If you do, can you call me? And make sure Stephanie and the kids stay inside where it’s safe. Until I catch this guy—”

“Stephanie’s staying home with the little one and keeping the doors locked, and I’m driving the older kids to school.” His voice was grim. “We aren’t taking any risks, not after what happened the last time.”

“Good. I’ll see you, Rod.”

Harley circled out of the neighborhood and headed back through town, checking parking lots behind the few businesses up and down Main Street before turning onto the road leading to Ransom House. A thorough search of the empty homes turned up nothing, and after cruising the length of the street, he headed up to the Tremayne family lumber mill. Switching on his spotlight, he checked the entire area and came up empty. The dirt logging roads were his only other option, and there were far too many offshoots to cover on his own. With a sigh of disgust, he turned around and headed for home.

He parked in the driveway and locked his Explorer. Lights were on throughout the house, but he guessed he’d find Caroline in the kitchen. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he walked around to the back door and let himself in.

She turned from stirring something on the stove and faced him, her gray eyes wide and serious. “Did you find the car?”

“Not yet.” He stopped in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You did great back there.”

“Only because I was talking to you when he drove up. Otherwise, I might have run screaming into the woods. This is freaking me out, Harley.”

“I know.” He pulled her close. “But you wouldn’t have done anything stupid. You would have kept your head and stayed in your car. Running is exactly what he wanted you to do.”

She rested her cheek against his chest. “Are you any closer to knowing who the psycho is?”

“I learned something interesting today. Elliot’s foster brother, Damien Grissom, disappeared completely not long after graduating high school. I believe he’s using an alias and may be living in Eureka—or was a few years ago.”

“Why would he change his name?”

Harley tightened his arms around her. “We believed Elliot was responsible for his foster parents’ deaths, even though there wasn’t proof, but maybe Grissom was involved, too. He was in high school and still living there at the time of the explosion. If so, he might have decided it was safer to ditch his old life completely. From what I learned about him, he didn’t have much to give up.”

“You don’t know the name he’s using now?”

“Unfortunately, no. I sent a blurry photo from several years ago, along with a middle school picture, which was all I could find, to the authorities in Eureka. I’m hoping they can connect him to a current resident.”

“You really think Elliot’s foster brother is the one who killed Traci? That he was the driver of the 4Runner tonight?”

“I certainly want to question him and find out where he was on Friday the thirteenth and if he’s been staying in this area. Earlier today, I checked at the Woodvale Inn on the off chance he was registered there, but the front desk clerk didn’t recognize the photos. Eventually, we’ll track him down.”

“It can’t be soon enough.” Finally, she stepped back. “I need to turn down the soup. It’s boiling too hard.”

He released her as she picked up the wooden spoon lying on the stove and stirred the contents of the pot. “Smells good, but I was going to cook for you.”

“I’ll take a raincheck. It’s already pushing seven, so I thawed some lentil soup you had in the freezer. I stayed late at school today to wrap up everything I’ve been doing in the classroom. The teacher I was subbing for will be back tomorrow.”

“Do you have a new job?”

“Not yet, but I’ll probably get a call from the district office in the morning.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Do you want a sandwich to go with the soup?”

“Sure, but I’ll make them. I have turkey or ham. Which would you like?”

“Just the soup is plenty for me.”

They finished preparing the simple meal together, and Caroline carried the food to the table while he headed into the bedroom to change. “Would you like a beer?” she called.

“We can have wine if you’d prefer.” He tossed his uniform over a chair, and pulled on jeans and a flannel shirt, then took his holstered revolver back to the kitchen with him. He laid it on the counter within reach.

“I think I’ll stick with water.” She set her glass and his beer bottle down at their places and glanced over at his weapon. “You don’t usual bring your gun to the table.”

“We don’t normally have a killer loose in the woods.” He let out a slow breath. “I don’t like what happened tonight.”

“I wasn’t too thrilled about it, either.”

He eyed her steadily. “If it’s the same person—and I’m going to assume it is—you’ve come in contact with this freak twice now.”

She set down her spoon. “It was just bad luck my car broke down, and the deer—”

“The deer certainly wasn’t planned, but that asshole could have been following you and took advantage of the situation. As for your car, Rod didn’t know how gravel got into your fuel line. Maybe someone put it in your tank, hoping you’d break down. If he’s been following you . . .”

“You’re scaring me, Harley.” She gripped the edge of the table.

“I don’t want to upset you, but I need you to know how serious the danger is.”

“Why me?” Her voice rose. “Why?”

“Because you were engaged to Elliot?” He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed furiously before swallowing, doing his best to tamp down the anger and fear simmering in his gut. “A psycho doesn’t think rationally. You can’t expect a person who murders in cold blood to behave with any logic.”

“Why would he kill Traci McGinnis if he’s fixated on me?” Her voice shook.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong.” He met her frightened gaze and reached over to grip her clenched fist in his. “I hope like hell I am.”

Chapter Ten

Twice, Caroline had been within his grasp and slipped away. Three times if you counted their meeting at the inn. Damien pounded his fist on the hard ground in frustration.

The first time had played out perfectly, with her car stalling in an ideal location. Grabbing her when she got out and started walking should have been a piece of cake. But that asshole cop had showed up before he could make his move.

He stared up at the nylon roof of his tent, too keyed up to sleep. To be so close and fail was infuriating.

Then earlier tonight, she’d pulled over only a mile from town and just sat in her car. Almost as if she were waiting for him. Following her every move had been about to pay off. Until Boone gave him a real scare.

Driving into the carport at a random house with no lights on had been a huge risk. He’d thrown a tarp he kept for camping over his 4Runner and then ran into the woods. Once the sheriff gave up searching, he’d retrieved his SUV and headed out one of the old logging roads to an isolated spot where he set up his tent. Better to lay low for a while and plan his next move before returning to the vacation home he’d rented.

Caroline would screw up again at some point. Preferably when her watchdog was otherwise occupied. Until then, he’d travel on foot since Boone would make his vehicle the minute he spotted it. She’d have to return to the bed and breakfast for clothes, and that’s when he’d find a way to take her.

Everything would work out. It had to. He needed to finish what Elliot had started and make Caroline pay for her disloyalty. Only then would he be truly free.

* * * *

Caroline parked in the driveway of Ransom House and walked back to the street. When Harley rolled down his window, she smiled at him. “See, no psycho lurking in the bushes. You didn’t have to follow me over.”

“Yes, I did. I’m just glad you didn’t get called into school to sub today, but unfortunately, I can’t take time off.”

“Of course not. Anyway, June promised to teach me how to make her amazing cinnamon rolls on my next free day. I can’t get into much trouble doing that.”

He laughed. “I’m in favor as long as you’ll bake some for me.”

“You know I will.” She leaned through the open window and kissed him. “Stay safe today.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “I’ll see you this evening. Don’t drive over. I’ll come get you.”

“Okay.” After a final kiss, she stepped away from the Explorer and headed toward the house, knowing he wouldn’t leave until she was safely inside.

Voices led her to the kitchen where June and Brooke seemed to be having an animated discussion. Both women stopped speaking and turned when she stepped into the room.

“Am I interrupting?”

“Of course not.” June hurried to the coffee pot as it stopped gurgling. “I’ll pour you a cup. Did you have breakfast with the sheriff?”

“I ate, but I’d love coffee.” She gave her friend a hesitant glance. “Is something wrong?”

Brooke let out a sigh. “Just the usual trials of motherhood. Zack tripped over Otis while they were playing in the yard and sprained his ankle. At least I hope it’s just sprained.” Her tone was dark. “I’m taking him to the doctor in a few minutes, so he’ll miss school. I’d planned to take Jesse grocery shopping this morning, and we need to stock the pantry since we have last minute guests coming tomorrow.”

June handed Caroline the steaming mug. “I told her Jesse and I can take my VW to the market, but she’s putting up a fuss.”

Brooke rolled her eyes. “That bus is a relic, and the steering felt funny the last time I drove it. Rod is having trouble finding a part to fix a sixty-year-old vehicle. At any rate, I was trying to convince my stubborn grandma the shopping will have to wait until I get back from the doctor.”

“You just worry about Zack. As swollen as his ankle is—”

“Don’t even say the B word. We’ll both go crazy if they need to put a cast on his leg.”

Caroline patted her tense shoulder. “Think positive. I’m not teaching today, so I’d be happy to run errands with Jesse. Just give me a list.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do—”

“Nope. I’m happy to help. That’s what friends are for.”

Brooke gave her a quick hug. “Thanks. I appreciate it. The list is in my purse. I’ll load the kids into the car and bring it over.”

“I’ll walk with you.” She smiled at June. “I’ll be back soon with your supplies.”

“Thanks, honey. You’re a lifesaver.”

Brooke shut the kitchen door behind them. “You literally are a lifesaver because she and Jesse would have driven off in that derelict old bus the second my back was turned and probably crashed.”

“I’m happy to have a project to take my mind off everything. I honestly don’t mind at all.”

“Good. I—” She broke off as Otis galloped toward them. Coming up short, he stared into the woods and barked a couple of times before ambling across the lawn.

“Maybe your dog heard Jesse coming.”

Brooke shook her head and scratched Otis behind his ears when he sat on her feet. “Nope. He’s in the house watching the kids. Probably just a squirrel.” She gave the dog a shove. “Move it bud, or I’ll be late getting to the doctor’s office. This is all your fault, anyway.”

Five minutes later, she’d given her subdued son a piggyback ride to the car and buckled Jessica into her car seat. After handing Caroline the grocery list, she kissed Jesse’s cheek. “Behave yourself at the store. Don’t load up on junk food.”

His eyes twinkled. “A man can’t live on granola and beansprouts alone.”

She laughed. “Like you’d touch either one. Thanks, again, Caroline. Just put everything on the Ransom House account. I’ll see you both later.”

Once they drove away, Jesse rested his hands on his hips. “I feel sorry for Zack, but I’m not sorry Brooke won’t be supervising me in the store. She’s even worse than Dillon.”

“I’ll cut you some slack. Let’s just hope the poor kid only has a sprain.”

Jesse put Otis in the house and then walked beside Caroline to her car. Once they were both seated, she started the engine and backed out of the driveway. Harley probably wouldn’t approve of her impromptu trip, but she felt safe having Jesse along for company. Surely the crazy bastard wouldn’t stop them and drag her out of her car while Jesse—

“Has Harley made any progress finding the maniac who killed that woman?”

His question jerked her out of her troubled thoughts as they reached the end of the street. “He’s looking into a few leads.”

“In other words, you can’t talk about it.” His tone was gruff.

“I probably shouldn’t. He’s waiting on new information.” A minute later, she pulled into the lot beside the market and turned to face him. “Hopefully this will be over soon.”

Jesse nodded and got out, using his cane to lever to his feet. At the door, they each took a cart from the line beside the brick building, entered the store, and waved to Thelma, who was manning the cash register.

Caroline unfolded Brooke’s list. “Wow. Let’s get busy. This could take a while.”

She enjoyed Jesse’s company as they strolled down the aisles. When he put a bag of potato chips in his cart, she couldn’t help but tease him. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

He patted her hand. “You’re a lovely young woman, Caroline.”

“I try.” She consulted her list. “All I have left is produce.”

“Dang. I forgot to get oatmeal.” Jesse turned his cart around. “I’ll catch up to you.”

“Okay.” Caroline rounded the aisle at the end of the store and rolled past the potatoes and onions, grabbing a bag of each. When a shoe squeaked on the linoleum behind her, she glanced over her shoulder and stopped.

“Hello, Caroline.”

Uneasiness slid through her as she stared into the earnest eyes of the tall, auburn-haired man. Anton? No that wasn’t right. She couldn’t remember his name, despite having seen him on a fairly regular basis.

“I’m surprised you’re still in Woodvale. I thought you went back to Eureka.”

“Not yet, but soon. Very soon.” He reached for an acorn squash in the bin beside him and threw it at her.

She ducked too late. Pain exploded behind her eyes as the squash connected with her forehead. Arms flailing, she pitched backward, and her head connected with the corner of a shelf. Above her, the fluorescent lights blurred and faded . . .

Chapter Eleven

When his cell rang, Harley dropped the report he’d been reading on his desk and swiped to connect. “What can I help you with, Jesse?”

“I’m at . . . store, and . . . don’t . . . where Caroline is. We . . . shopping then—”

“Hey. Slow down. I can barely hear you. You’re breaking up.” He straightened in his chair as dread raised the fine hair on the back of his neck. “What happened.”

“I’m outside the store now.” Jesse’s voice quavered. “Caroline drove me into town, and we were shopping. I went to get some oatmeal while she was in produce, and she disappeared. She’s just gone. Her full cart is still there.”

“Did you check the bathroom?” He surged to his feet and ran out of his office, not stopping when his dispatcher waved her hand. He shoved the outer door open and sprinted toward his Explorer.

“No, but it’s been five minutes now. I went up and down all the aisles looking for her and calling her name.”

“Stay where you are.” He hit the remote to unlock his vehicle. “I’ll be right there.”

Seconds later, he peeled out of the lot and turned on the siren to pass a slow-moving pickup. Flying through the only stoplight in town, he pulled up in front of the store a minute later. Jesse walked out through the front doors, his face pale above his beard as he gripped his cane with a shaking hand.

Harley scanned the parking area. Only a few empty vehicles, and no one in the lot but a young mother with a toddler strapped in her cart while she loaded groceries into her trunk. She gave him a startled look.

He stopped beside her car. “Lynn, did you see a man come out of the store with Caroline Farnsworth? She used to teach school—”

“I know who she is.” Her eyes widened. “No one’s come out in the last few minutes except Jesse. I did notice Caroline in the store earlier.”

“Was anyone near her, maybe watching her?”

“Only Jesse. They were in the baking aisle, laughing about something. I nodded and kept going.”

“How about a vehicle leaving the area?”

“Just old Mr. French’s Buick. His car needs a new muffler and makes a racket. I did wonder why he parked back by the loading dock.”

“Did you see the driver?”

She shook her head. “I barely glanced over when the car pulled out. Nicky was pitching a fit because he wanted a juice box.”

The boy sucked on a straw jabbed through the carton and kicked his feet. A purple stain covered the front of his T-shirt.

“How long ago was this?”

“Maybe three or four minutes. I was just leaving the store at the time.”

“Did you see which way the car turned out of the lot?”

“I’m afraid I didn’t notice. What’s going on, Sheriff Boone?”

“Caroline disappeared while she was in the store. If you see her or that Buick, please call the sheriff’s office.”

She gripped her cart handle a little tighter. “I will.”

“Thank you.” Harley ran the last few yards to Jesse. “Still no sign of Caroline inside?”

“No. Thelma checked the bathroom and the storage room off the produce section. The door to the loading ramp wasn’t closed all the way.”

“No one was in that room? You’re sure?”

“Thelma and I looked. We even checked the big walk-in fridge.”

“Whoever grabbed Caroline might have left in Mr. French’s Buick. I’ll put out an APB and search for it in town. I want you to call Dillon to come stay with you until I get back. Tell him to keep his eyes open for that green Buick on the drive here from the mill.”

“I’ll do that.”

Harley ran back to his vehicle and radioed dispatch as he turned out of the lot. His gaze darted right and left, looking for any sign of the old green car while he gave his operator a brief summary.

“That’s why I waved at you when you ran out, Harley. Mr. French called to report his Buick stollen. He always leaves his keys inside when it’s parked in his driveway. He said he didn’t hear it start up because he had the TV turned up loud. The man’s pretty hard of hearing.”

“Hell. Okay, get Dwayne out canvasing the streets. I haven’t seen any sign of the Buick since I left the store, and I’ve covered the downtown area. Tell him to look under every tarp and in every carport, and send out an APB in case this freak left town. He could be on Highway 101 by now, but I doubt he’d risk being seen.”

Static came through the radio, followed by his deputy’s eager voice. “Roger that, boss. I’m on it now.”

“Start with the vacation homes on the road to Ransom House. I’m headed back to the market now. He’s likely somewhere nearby still, so find him!” He signed off and turned around at the gas station. Taking slow, deep breaths, he fought down his fear. Losing his temper and shouting wasn’t going to help Caroline.

Ahead, Dillon’s pickup turned into the market’s parking lot, coming from the opposite direction. Harley pulled up next to him and got out.

“Any sign of that green Buick?”

“I’m afraid not.” His friend’s mouth was drawn into a tight line as he walked toward the store beside him. “I told my men to spread out on the logging roads to look for it.”

“Good thinking. Jesse must have gone back inside. He was pretty shaken up.”

They found him sitting on a crate beside the front counter. He rose unsteadily to his feet as they approached. “Did you find Caroline?”

“Not yet, but we will.” Harley nodded to the woman behind the cash register and rested his hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “What happened isn’t your fault. For this man to brazenly grab Caroline in broad daylight out of a public building tells me he wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt you if you’d gotten in his way. You said you saw her last in the produce section?”

“On her way there. She left her cart by the potatoes.”

He faced Thelma. “Ma’am, can you put up the closed sign and lock the doors since this is now an active crime scene. Is anyone else still in the store?”

“I checked out the only remaining customer a few minutes ago. I’ll lock up now.”

“Thank you.” As he headed toward the back of the market, Dillon’s phone rang. The other man paused to answer it while Harley strode down the aisle.

A full cart stood by the bins full of root vegetables. Walking slowly around it, his step faltered when he noticed a red stain on the corner of a display of squash. His stomach churned. Bending closer, he touched a couple of long, dark hairs stuck in the drying blood.

Mouthing an obscenity, he hurried toward the storage room. The back door to the loading dock was propped open, and a smear of blood darkened the tan paint. Closing his eyes, he pictured the bastard carrying Caroline’s unconscious body. Her head hanging limply over his arm, brushing against the exit door as he maneuvered past the stack of crates.

“Shit!”

“Harley!” Dillon ran toward him. “Brooke called. Zack sprained his ankle, and she took him into school late. When I told her what happened to Caroline, she freaked out. Old man French’s Buick is parked in the school lot, as bold as you please, but no one was inside it.”

“The freak must have hauled her into the woods. Let’s go.” Adrenaline pumping, Harley ran through the doorway and down the loading ramp with Dillon following. “I’ll need manpower to search the whole damn forest, so call your men from the mill to meet us at the school. Hopefully he hasn’t taken her far.”

He’d find Caroline—before it was too late.

Chapter Twelve

Caroline woke slowly, her head throbbing as her vision blurred. Blackness surrounded her with only a narrow line of light down near her feet. After blinking a few times, she realized there was nothing wrong with her sight. She was simply in the dark. The space felt cramped and airless, like a closet.

Her hand shook as she brought it up to touch the back of her head. Something sticky and wet covered her fingers, and she shuddered. Blood? Memories of standing in the produce section at the market, facing a man she’d known slightly for a couple of years, surfaced. He’d thrown something at her, and . . . She couldn’t remember anything else.

Whimpering, she tried to rise to her knees, but her legs tangled in some long garment. Cotton, loose and billowing, stretching from her neck to her feet.

A nightgown similar to the ones Elliot made his victims wear before he chased them through the forest.

She leaned over, hands planted on the floor as she breathed hard through her nose, trying not to puke. Knowing what this psycho intended to do to her was maybe the worst part. But she had time before nightfall to talk him into releasing her. Time to convince him Elliot had been sick, and the last thing he wanted was to wind up dead like her former fiancé. Because she knew if something happened to her, Harley wouldn’t stop until he killed this freak.

At least she hoped she had time.

On trembling legs, she crawled toward the faint line of light and felt up the hard surface. Her palm encountered a knob, but it wouldn’t twist beneath her hand. The door was locked. Gripping the knob tightly, she pulled herself up and waved her arms in front of her. When she touched a string and yanked, a light flashed on, blinding her.

Swaying dizzily, she leaned against the wall and blinked. The space was tight with a sloped ceiling ending in an L-shaped crawl space. Undoubtedly a closet under a set of stairs. The tiny area was completely empty except for some indoor-outdoor carpet on the floor and the bulb fixed to the ceiling.

She faced the door and kicked as hard as she could. Pain ricocheted up her leg, but the solid wood portal didn’t budge.

“Dammit! God dammit!” She kicked out again before crumpling to the floor. Her head pounded with nauseating intensity, and all she wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry.

When the knob rattled, she scurried backward as the door swung open. The man who’d attacked her stood in the opening.

“Look who woke up.”

She wrapped her arms around updrawn knees. “Don’t you mean regained consciousness? Why?” Her voice broke. “I don’t understand.”

He stood looking down at her, his lips twisted into a regretful smile. “I didn’t want it to be this way. If you’d only—” He broke off and swallowed. “You betrayed my brother. I couldn’t allow that to go unpunished.”

“Your brother?” She searched for some connection to this man and came up empty. Still, shouting that he was insane wouldn’t help her cause so she kept her voice even. “I don’t know who you’re referring to. Maybe if we discuss the problem, we can come up with a solution. If I’ve somehow offended—”

“Not offended. Betrayed. You betrayed Elliot when you took up with that bastard, Boone. Now you’re going to pay for your infidelity.”

Caroline stared at him for several seconds, at a loss for words as she tried to digest what he’d just revealed. “You’re Elliot’s foster brother?”

“My real name is Damien. Damien Grissom. I changed my identity years ago when some asshole investigator started looking into the cold case involving the explosion that killed our foster parents.” He shrugged. “But that’s old news. When Elliot died . . .” He stared off into space for several long heartbeats. “Let’s just say it was best no one examined my life too closely.”

“I understand you cared about Elliot, but he wouldn’t want you to hurt me. He loved me.”

“Of course, he did!” The lunatic’s eyes flashed with anger. “You think I don’t know that. He worshiped you. That’s why your tawdry little fling with the sheriff is such a slap in the face to his memory.”

“Am I supposed to never care for another man again?”

“Maybe if you’d loved me, it would have been different.”

His gaze travelled across her in a way that chilled her blood. She tightened her arms around her updrawn legs, suddenly glad for the all-encompassing nightgown. She wouldn’t let herself think about what he might have done to her when he’d taken off her clothes and dressed her in the white gown.

“Now what?” Her voice held a strength she was far from feeling.

“Now we wait until dark and let the game begin. Now I punish you the way he punished those other women who stole a piece of his heart. By taking back what should have been mine.”

Before she could answer, he slammed the door. The lock clicked. Alone with her fear, she focused on Harley. He’d find her. She had to believe he’d find her.

* * * *

After searching for hours, Harley followed Dillon into his kitchen, drained of energy, terrified, and not at all sure what to do next to save the woman he loved. There’d been no sign of Caroline or the man who’d abducted her anywhere in the woods near the school. Not a bent branch or a single drop of blood. He’d come to the conclusion the psycho had secured her somewhere first, and then ditched the car in the lot.

“If they hadn’t filled in the root cellar behind the school where that freak Elliot held Brooke and the other women, I would have expected him to take Caroline there.” Dillon dropped onto a chair at the table, and his wife turned away from the stove to rest her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you two hungry? I have stew cooking.” She waved. “Take a seat, Harley. You need to refuel.”

He sat opposite Dillon, but wasn’t too sure he could force down food.

“I keep thinking he’s holding her someplace associated with his past, if this asshole really is Elliot’s foster brother. But their childhood home sold to a family a few years ago, and Elliot’s house is rented long-term.”

His friend glanced at him sharply. “You already checked?”

Harley nodded. “It’s too damn bad facial recognition didn’t come up with anything useful, but the photo I submitted was too distorted.”

“What picture?” Brooke set two steaming bowls on the table.

He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times before holding it up for her to see. “The guy in the background is Elliot’s foster brother. He dropped off the grid years ago and is probably using an alias.”

Brooke frowned. “I swear he looks familiar.” She reared back. “Wait! That guy was in the lobby of the Woodvale Inn the night we had dinner.”

Harley stiffened. “Are you sure? I showed the picture to the desk clerk, and she didn’t recognize him.”

“Positive. He said he was looking for his key.”

Dillon dropped his spoon in his bowl. “When she returned to the table, didn’t Caroline mention she spoke to a couple of guys she knew slightly in Eureka?”

“Hell yeah, she did.” Harley closed his eyes. “What did she say? One was an IT guy at the school, and the other . . .”

“Cooked at a place where she likes to eat breakfast.” Brooke’s eyes were wide. “Any idea which restaurant that is?”

“I know exactly where she used to have breakfast.” Harley pushed back his chair without touching his food. “If I can identify both men, maybe the bastard we want will have some link to Woodvale. Something to give me a damn clue.”

“You’ll find her.” Dillon spoke quietly.

Harley glanced toward the window where twilight was settling across the forest. The knot in his gut tightened. “I have to find her before nightfall. Before it’s too late.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Got it. Thanks.” Harley dropped his cell and typed rapidly on his keyboard, pulling up the local realty site on his computer. He picked up his phone again, dialed the emergency number listed for after hours, and waited while it rang. “Pick up, dammit.” He clenched his hand around the receiver.

“This is Margie Slone. How may I help you?”

“Margie, it’s Harley Boone. I have a situation and need to know if you rented any of your units to either a Walton Winslow or an Andrew Robbins recently.”

“Well, hello, Sheriff Boone.” Her voice was cheerful. “I’ve been down at my daughter’s, so my assistant has been working in the office—”

“Can you check your system.” He gritted his teeth. “Time is critical.”

“Hold on while I power up my computer.”

He stared up at his office ceiling and drummed his fingers on his desk. At least he’d found someone at the Eureka school district to give him the name of their IT guy, and it had taken him two minutes to learn who the line cook at the restaurant was. Interestingly enough, both men were currently on vacation.

“Looks like Walton Winslow rented a one bedroom we handle in Crescent City for a week, but he checked out yesterday. I have an A. Robbins down for two weeks at the Henricks’ place. He extended through this weekend.”

“That home is on the county road leading to Ransome House, isn’t it?”

“Yep. 1113 is the street number.”

“Thank you.” He slammed down his phone and ran through the office, pausing only to shout at his dispatcher. “Tell Dwayne to get to 1113 on the rural route to Ransome House. I may need backup.”

He blew through the doorway and sprinted to his Explorer. Flicking on the headlights to combat the darkness, he tore down the street and squealed around the corner. Two minutes later, he pulled into the driveway of the Hendricks’ property. The place looked vacant with no lights on inside.

Stepping out of his vehicle, he drew his revolver and approached the house, keeping his gaze trained on the front windows for any movement. When he reached the porch, he tried the doorknob. Locked. Using his elbow, he smashed the decorative glass panel on the right side of the door. Clearing the jagged shards with the butt of his weapon, he reached through to flip the lock and opened the door just as Dwayne drove up and parked.

“Check around back,” he shouted as he entered the home and flipped on the entry light. Searching methodically, turning on lights as he went, his nerves tightened with dread. In the kitchen, he stopped, his gaze focusing on the open door to the basement.

His deputy entered the room behind him. “No one outside.”

Harley nodded. With his Glock extended, he moved down the creaking stairs and stopped at the bottom. “Shit!”

Dwayne descended to stand beside him and sucked in a breath.

The blue top and black pants Caroline had been wearing that morning were neatly folded on a straight-back chair near the open door beneath the stairwell. A single bulb illuminated the empty space and what looked like a bloodstain on the carpet.

“He was holding her here.” Harley picked up her shirt and ran up the stairs. Holstering his sidearm, he pulled out his cell.

Dwayne’s shoes thumped hollowly on the steps. “Where do you think he took her?”

“Into the woods, the same way Elliot did.” He kept his voice steady, refusing to let the panic he was feeling show. “Call every able-bodied person in town and get them out there looking for her. She’s alive and running for her life.”

He refused to believe anything different.

Dillon answered on the first ring. “Did you find her?”

“Not yet. That asshole took her into the forest to play his sick game. Bring that big mutt of yours down the street to the Hendricks. Let’s hope Otis can follow her scent.”

“On my way.”

Harley stuffed his phone in his pocket and left the house to stare into the trees. She was still alive. She had to be.

* * * *

Caroline sprinted full out, determined to make the most of her thirty second head start. One of the flimsy slippers Damien had given her stuck in a patch of mud, but she didn’t stop to retrieve it. Stumbling onward, ignoring the stabbing pain when she stepped on a rock, she veered deeper into the woods.

Her side ached as she ran through the dark with nothing but a sliver of moon to guide her. Hands stretched out in front of her, she slammed into the branches of what felt like a fir tree and nearly fell. Holding tight to a limb, she steadied herself and kept going, dodging bushes as best she could, angling toward Jesse’s cabin.

When the psycho had prodded her up the stairs from the basement, all the lights in the house had been off, leaving her disoriented. But once he dragged her out into the backyard and urged her deeper into the woods, a faint howl to the north had grounded her. She’d heard that sound more times than she could count since moving into one of June’s guest rooms. Otis was big and loveable and loud as hell—and she knew exactly where she was.

Maybe another half-mile to go to reach Jesse’s cabin, but the thrashing sounds behind her were growing closer. She whimpered and cried out as she tripped on a root and sprawled face-first on the ground. Only to pause when the familiar baying started up again behind her instead of somewhere up ahead.

Did I get turned around?

No time to think. All she could do was run. Scrambling to her feet, she veered left, heading downhill. If she was going in the wrong direction, her only hope was to reach the road.

Behind her, Damien’s headlamp shone steadily, brighter now. She could hear his labored breathing and put on a burst of speed, only to pull up short when her nightgown caught on a manzanita bush.

“Gotcha!” He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back against his chest, panting harshly in her ear. “You were fast, but not fast enough.”

“Let me go!” She screamed and kicked, connecting with his shins. One leg buckled, and his grip loosened. She yanked away.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled.

A cry ripped from her throat, and her eyes watered. When he pressed the cold blade of a knife against her throat, she stilled. Legs trembling, she swallowed back the nausea burning in her throat.

Somewhere in the night, the dog howled again, and lights flashed. Caroline blinked, wondering if she was seeing things, but the bright spots were real. So was the faint sound of voices.

She opened her mouth and screamed.

He clamped his other hand across her lips. “Shut the hell up!”

Biting down hard, when he jerked back, she screamed again.

The blade nicked her neck. Warm blood trickled down her throat as Otis burst out of the trees. The dog barked fiercely as Harley and Dillon ran up and stopped short.

“Drop the knife, Grissom.” Taking a stance, Harley aimed his revolver with both hands, holding steady on his target.

“I’ll slit her throat if you don’t back off!”

“I’m not going to do that. You can let her go, or you can die. Your choice.”

“You can’t have her! No way in hell am I giving her to you!”

His shout was drowned out by the echo of a shot.

Caroline shoved hard as the man swayed, and the knife fell to the ground. When she pitched forward, Harley caught her in his arms and held her tight.

“You’re bleeding. Did he cut you?”

“Just a scratch. I’m okay.” Tears ran down her face as she stared up at him. “I really am okay.”

“If not for Otis’s keen nose . . .” He shuddered.

As more people ran out of the trees, Dillon bent over the body. “Nice shot. You nailed him straight between the eyes.”

Caroline looked away from the crumpled body and wrapped her arms around Harley’s back, clinging to his comfort and warmth. “It’s over. Thank God, it’s over.”

“If I’d lost you . . .” With a gentle finger, he stroked her cheek.

“You didn’t.” A burst of satisfaction filled her as she smiled up at him. “You have me. Now and for always.”

About the Author

Write what you know. Jannine Gallant has taken this advice to heart, creating characters from small towns and plots that unfold in the great outdoors. A recent empty-nester, she grew up in a tiny Northern California town and currently lives in gorgeous Lake Tahoe with her husband. An avid outdoor enthusiast, Jannine enjoys hiking and snowshoeing in the woods around her home with her dog, Ginger. You’ll discover the beauty of nature woven into all her fast-paced romantic suspense novels. To find out more about this author and her books, visit her website or sign up for her newsletter.

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