# Reluctant Witness

Kathleen Long

WHAT'S A SINGLE MOTHER TO DO WHEN HER YOUNG SON IS THE TARGET OF A CONSPIRACY…?He'd witnessed a heinous crime and now Kerri Nelson's young son insisted on testifying. Part of her was proud, but a bigger part wanted to wrap him in her arms and run. Then her nemesis–and one-time crush–Wade Sorenson stepped in and insisted on keeping them both safe. She had had no intention of relying on the man she blamed for shattering her family…until someone came after her little boy. Kerri soon found the safest place was in Wade's arms–which scared her more than any elusive criminal ever could. And made her realize how much she still had to lose.

## “My son didn’t see anything, Wade!” Kerri shouted.

“He dropped his skateboard and ran when the fire started. I went back for his board. That’s all. You need to leave us alone.”

There was no denying the fury in her voice, but Wade spotted more than anger in her eyes. He’d known her long enough to know she was bluffing. “You’re lying.”

“I will not let you drag my son into this. Is that understood? He saw nothing.”

Wade sighed. “Someone was murdered, Kerri. The police have a lead on who did this, but they need a witness.”

One of her auburn brows lifted. “Get out of my house.”

“I’d never let anything happen to him. Or you.” Wade stepped out onto the front step, tensing as the door slammed behind him. He’d give her this round, but if she thought she’d won the battle, Kerri had another thing coming….

## Reluctant Witness. Kathleen Long

www.millsandboon.co.uk

As always, for Dan. Thank you for being

the most wonderful hero a girl could hope for.

## ABOUT THE AUTHOR

After a career spent spinning words for clients ranging from corporate CEOs to talking fruits and vegetables, Kathleen Long now finds great joy spinning a world of fictional characters, places and plots. She shares her life with her husband, her daughter and their neurotic sheltie, dividing her time between suburban Philadelphia and the New Jersey seashore, where she can often be found—hands on keyboard, bare toes in sand—spinning tales. After all, life doesn’t get much better than that. Please visit www.kathleenlong.com for the latest on contests, appearances and upcoming releases.

## CAST OF CHARACTERS

Wade Sorenson— When ecoterrorists target his latest construction project, he vows to fight back. But when the only witness is the son of the woman he’s secretly loved for years, will he force the boy to testify, or protect the woman and her son, choosing love over justice?

Kerri Nelson—A widowed single mother, she’ll do whatever it takes to protect her son. But will she be able to protect her heart from the man who vows to keep them both safe—and whom she holds responsible for her husband’s death?

Thomas Weber—After being forbidden from playing near construction sites, he spots a lone figure running away from a local site just moments before a series of explosions and the death of an inspector. Now he’s the sole witness to a violent crime, and someone is determined to keep him quiet.

Adam McCann—He’s the local detective racing to keep his witness safe. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep Thomas Weber unharmed, but are his intentions pure?

Michael Chase—Son of the local crime boss and a childhood friend of Wade Sorenson. When he becomes involved in the protection of Thomas Weber, he seems on the up-and-up, but can he really be trusted?

Vincent Chase—Head of a New Jersey crime organization, but also the man who helped Wade Sorenson get his start in construction. He doesn’t want Wade anywhere near the family business, but just how far will he go to protect the man he considers a son?

John Weber—He died years before in an accident on one of Wade Sorenson’s sites. Was it a tragic accident, or was he involved in something far more sinister than bricks and mortar?

## Contents

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

## Chapter One

Kerri Nelson never heard the glass she dropped shatter in the sink. As the series of explosions ripped through the quiet August afternoon, the dish towel slipped from her fingers, her heart catching in her chest.

Her mind raced through the possibilities—not of what had happened, but of where her son was. Where was Thomas? He’d taken his skateboard when he’d left an hour ago.

Where had he gone?

Fear danced along her spine, sending the small hairs at the back of her neck to attention.

Black smoke billowed into the crystal blue sky above the line of trees behind her home, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Close. Too close to home.

She hit the floor in an all-out sprint, slowing only long enough to yank open the kitchen door, focused on one thing only—Thomas.

As she raced through the woods and into the clearing, flames licked at all but one of the six huge houses in the area’s newest development. Pine Ridge Estates.

Anxiety pooled deep inside her. Tom had a fixation with construction sites, always had, ever since his daddy had taken him to work and gotten him his own tiny hard hat as a toddler.

She’d forbidden him from coming anywhere near this site. Had he defied her? Could he have been playing inside one of the partially constructed homes when something went horribly wrong?

Her gaze landed on a township truck parked at the edge of the dirt road, yet she saw no one. An inspector probably. She sent up a silent prayer that whoever had driven that truck onto the site was far from where the fires originated.

Sirens wailed in the distance, drawing nearer. Kerri’s fear morphed into panic as she scanned the construction site and the surrounding woods for any sign of her son.

Her heart twisted in her chest.

“Thomas?” Her first attempt at calling her son’s name was strangled, tight. “Thomas!” Her second wasn’t much better.

“Mom.”

The sound of his voice teased her through the smoke-filled air, but she couldn’t locate the source. Couldn’t see her son.

“Thomas!”

The blaring sirens were muffled beyond the pounding of her heart, the rush of her pulse in her ears. When her son emerged from behind a stand of trees, she saw him as if he were in slow motion, his face pale, but apparently without a scratch.

She ran as fast as her feet would carry her, gathering the nine-year-old who’d grown too old for hugs into her arms, hanging on for dear life. His arms locked around her waist and squeezed. When Kerri finally put enough space between them to tip his face to hers, she saw terror in his eyes.

“Are you hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Did you see what happened?”

Tom nodded. “Everything blew up. I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Surely he didn’t have a thing to do with what had happened.

A horn blared and Kerri realized the emergency vehicles were crossing Red Lion Road, getting ready to turn into the dirt path that gave access to the new community. She linked her arm through her son’s and rushed him back toward the trees.

“Quickly,” she said, fear palpable in her voice. “Did anyone see you here?”

“No,” he answered, and relief surged through her.

They reached the cover of the woods just as a sea of vehicles and flashing lights careened onto the cul-de-sac, once lined with multimillion-dollar homes, now fringed by flames and smoke.

“Hurry.” She urged Tom forward, away from the fire and destruction, back toward the safety of their home.

Sorenson Construction no doubt had insurance that would cover whatever accident had caused the explosion. Lord knew it wasn’t the first accident on a Sorenson site.

Her stomach twisted and bile threatened to climb into her throat at the memory of another accident three years earlier. She shoved away the unwanted images—the hospital waiting room, the casket, friends and family gathered in her home.

Right now, Kerri needed to focus on her son’s safety. Nothing else.

She locked the door behind them as they entered the kitchen, as if the brass bolt could keep them safe from whatever threat might lurk at the Sorenson site.

“I’m sorry.” Tom dropped his gaze to the ceramic tile floor. “I wasn’t supposed to go there.”

“Ever.” The sharpness of her tone startled Kerri and she read the surprise in her son’s face as he lifted his focus to her.

“They put in new curbs,” he said flatly. “Frankie said they were awesome for skateboarding.”

Awesome for skateboarding.

Kerri closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Her son was fine. He was unhurt. She needed to focus on that. But the reality was he could have been killed.

“I saw someone.”

If possible, Tom’s voice had grown even fainter and more frightened.

“From the township?” She snapped her eyes open and studied his expression. “The man from the truck?”

Tom nodded his head—slowly—as if he were afraid of what he’d seen. “I saw him, too. But he never came out again.”

Never came out again.

My God.

“There was somebody else?” Countless thoughts battled for position inside Kerri’s brain. Had the explosion been set on purpose? Had Tom witnessed a crime?

“He was running, Mom. The other man.”

The little color that had been left in Tom’s cheeks was gone now, making the blue of his eyes shocking next to his fair cheeks and sandy brown hair.

“Running where?” Kerri narrowed her gaze, her brain racing to keep up, to put the pieces of her son’s story together.

“Away from the last house. Into the woods.”

“From the fire?”

“Before the fire. Just before the fire. He came out of the last house after the inspector went into the first.”

“Like he knew what was going to happen?”

Tom nodded, his gaze dropping back to the floor.

Fear squeezed at Kerri’s throat, threatening to strangle her. What if the fire wasn’t an accident, but something far more sinister? What if the man her son had seen had set the blaze? What if he’d seen her son?

She worked to steady her breathing, wanting to avoid panicking Tom any more than he already was.

“Did he see you?” She spoke the words slowly, distinctly, punctuating the importance of the question.

He shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Hope bubbled inside her.

Tom nodded and she pulled him into a hug, tucking his head protectively against her chest.

“Good,” she whispered into his hair. “Let’s keep this between you and me…deal?”

His head moved in another nod, and Kerri squeezed her eyes shut. Was she making a mistake? What if the inspector had been injured in the blast? What if Tom had seen something that might help the police figure out what had happened?

No. She mentally chastised herself. It was all too likely that the fire might be blamed on her son somehow, even though he’d had nothing to do with setting the blaze. After all, the investigation into the accident that had killed her husband had pointed the final finger of blame directly at the deceased.

She’d be damned if she’d let her son get anywhere near an investigation, especially an investigation involving Sorenson Construction.

As she held Tom close, she watched the fire’s black smoke billow above the line of trees. She worked through her son’s story in her head, repeating every word silently, analyzing every detail to see if she were making the right decision.

Awesome for skateboarding.

Tom hadn’t had his skateboard when she’d found him at the site.

“Where’s your skateboard, honey?”

He winced. “I dropped it when I ran.”

Kerri swallowed. “Where?” Where investigators could find it? Where the man Tom had seen could find it?

She drew in a deep breath and held it, picturing the words she’d written on the bottom of the board with a permanent marker. Thomas Nelson. 122 Holly Drive.

She might as well have drawn a map.

She had to find that board before anyone else did.

Kerri pushed her son out to arm’s length. “Where were you when you dropped it?”

He described a location not far from where she’d first seen him, and Kerri nodded her head, praying his memory hadn’t been altered by shock or fear.

“Lock the door behind me and don’t answer it for anyone.”

Her son’s pale eyes grew wide.

“I have to go find it. I don’t want anyone to know you were there.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she answered, knowing her reply was unsatisfactory even for a nine-year-old. “Just because,” she repeated.

A long while later, Kerri continued to pick her way through the foliage behind the houses, choking on the stench of burning lumber. The billowing smoke had shifted from black to white and she knew the operation would soon switch from fire fighting to investigation. She had to move quickly.

Relief surged through her when she spotted the wild swirls of cobalt-blue and lime-green paint that covered the board. She knew her sense of urgency was partly irrational. If questioned, she could easily say Tom had lost the board on another day, at another time, but she wasn’t taking chances.

Kerri had no sooner wrapped her fingers around the edge of the board and tucked it under one arm when she heard deep voices. Two unfamiliar, but one as familiar as a long lost friend.

Wade Sorenson.

The deep timbre reached into her heart and squeezed. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them back. She had no time to relive the pain she’d felt three years earlier, when Wade had betrayed her husband—his best friend.

She dropped into a squat and waited for the men to move farther away. The two strangers walked toward the one unburned home, and Wade turned back toward where a dark car had been parked.

Without looking back, Kerri took off in a sprint, praying she reached the deep cover of the pines before Wade spotted her.

Whatever mess Wade Sorenson had gotten himself into this time was no business of her son’s. No business of hers. Sorenson could take care of himself.

All Kerri had to worry about was taking care of Thomas, and she wasn’t going to let the man she’d once considered one of her closest friends inflict any more heartache on her family than he already had.

WADE STOOD BACK, arms crossed, and watched the tendrils of gray and white smoke wind their way up into the air. Emotions battled deep inside his gut. Anger. Disbelief. Denial.

The red lights of the emergency vehicles flashed like strobes, but the sirens had stopped now, the paramedics and police escort having left over twenty minutes earlier.

The township inspector had been in bad shape. Unconscious, burned and barely responsive. The poor guy had come to do a routine framing and electrical inspection, and instead he’d left fighting for his life.

Guilt spiraled in the pit of Wade’s stomach. Had one of his guys installed the gas line incorrectly? Had a blowtorch been left on? What?

Pine Ridge Estates had been the culmination of a dream for him. He’d worked for years to build his company into one with a reputation home buyers would seek out. Sure, he’d almost lost it all after the Flamingo accident, but once the investigation had cleared him of any liability, he’d moved forward, rebuilding his reputation project by project. Until now.

Wood splintered and voices cried out as part of a framed ceiling gave way and crashed into the burned-out shell below. He winced, muttering a string of expletives.

Only one of the six houses remained untouched. Intact. The fire investigator, Charlie Forbes, emerged from the partially constructed building and walked toward where Wade stood. Wade moved to close the gap between them, anxious to hear the man’s take on what had happened.

Was it possible the township inspector had done something to cause the series of explosions? Wade drew in a deep breath, then sighed. Not likely. What had happened here today was no accident. He’d been targeted. Wade knew it in his gut, as much as he wanted to deny it.

Once they were within earshot of each other, Forbes spoke. “The sixth incendiary device didn’t blow.”

Incendiary device. Sonofa—

“Signature’s consistent with Project Liberation,” the investigator continued. “I’ve called in the Feds.”

Project Liberation.

Ecoterrorism.

Wade’s stomach did a slow sideways pitch. He’d known developing this community on the fringe of the South Jersey Pinelands might affront certain ecologically minded types, but he’d gone through the proper channels, including community meetings and hearings. His plan had been approved with flying colors, to the liking of everyone he’d met.

Obviously, not to the liking of the powers within the Project Liberation organization.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

The investigator nodded, then gestured for Wade to follow him. They made their way around the houses until they stood close to where the third shell smoldered.

Forbes pointed at a portion of the home’s back wall.

Two words had been spray painted in black. No Sprawl.

“I’ve read about this.” Wade uttered the words on the heels of a frustrated breath. “I didn’t know they’d developed an interest in the Pine Barrens.”

“Apparently, they have,” Forbes answered.

“Can I go inside?” Wade jerked a thumb toward the only unscathed home.

Forbes shook his head. “Can’t do that. We need to keep the specifics quiet. Chain of evidence. That sort of thing.”

Wade frowned. “Surely you don’t think I had anything to do with this?”

The other man shrugged. “Don’t take this personally, but one of the first things we look at is possible insurance fraud.”

Wade pointed to the spray-painted graffiti. “Even with this?”

“Anyone can buy a can of spray paint.”

Forbes’s attention was pulled away as a dark sedan eased to a stop behind a ladder truck, its tires sinking into the now thick mud. “Task force is here,” he said as he walked away from Wade, making it clear their discussion was over.

“Wade. Long time no see.” The driver of the car raised his hand in greeting. “Forbes.”

“McCann.” Wade and Forbes spoke simultaneously.

Detective Adam McCann was one of Wade’s oldest friends. He was also the newly appointed head of the county task force on Homeland Security.

“What have we got?” McCann asked as he stopped next to Wade, momentarily clasping a hand on his shoulder. “You doing all right?”

Wade nodded and Forbes jerked a thumb toward the smoldering houses behind them. “Clean evidence in the sixth house. Matches the devices in the other five.”

“Liberation?” McCann asked.

“Signature’s there.” Forbes nodded.

“Any word on the inspector?” Wade asked.

McCann pursed his lips and gave a quick shake of his head. “Not yet. I called in on the way over here. Doesn’t look good, though.”

“Damn.” Wade dropped his gaze to the ground.

“We’ll get them.” McCann stepped toward one of the burned-out shells. “Let’s take a look before the Feds get here and screw everything up.”

“Follow me,” Forbes answered. He stopped in his tracks when Wade moved to follow. “This won’t take long.”

Wade stood silently as he watched the two disappear into the skeleton of a five-thousand-square-foot estate home. He moved toward McCann’s car and rested one hip on the fender.

Project Liberation.

Chances were if he rebuilt, they’d strike again. But maybe McCann and his task force could take them down. He didn’t know much about the ecoterrorism group, but he knew they were very careful, and very clean. They left their signature, but nothing else. Nothing that would point to any one individual.

Their organization prided itself on the lack of any sort of paper trail. One suspected bomber had been arrested out in Montana, but Wade couldn’t remember hearing anything else.

A sudden movement in the woods beyond the homes captured his attention, sending all thoughts of Project Liberation far from his mind.

The flash of long, auburn hair was unmistakable. Even after all these years, he knew the owner’s identity immediately. He’d been admiring that particular head of hair since high school.

Kerri Nelson.

She and her son lived just on the other side of the dense foliage. But why would she show up at the crime scene? Morbid curiosity? Not her style.

Even more importantly, why had she run? The familiar old guilt twisted at his insides. She’d obviously seen him and wanted to get as far away as she could, as quickly as possible.

Adam McCann emerged from the house alone, and Wade pulled his focus out of the past and into the present.

“Hop in. We’ll talk,” Adam said as he pulled open the car’s front door.

When they’d both settled into their seats, Adam handed an unopened cup of coffee to Wade, then took a sip from a second one.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

Wade shot his friend a sharp glare. “I had nothing to do with this.”

“Good,” McCann answered. “I still have to question you.”

“When?” Wade drew in a deep breath and took a hit of the bitter coffee.

“Later’s good. Now’s better.”

“I can follow you to the station.” Wade met his friend’s visual scrutiny head-on. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“Hell of a thing.” McCann turned his gaze back to the smoldering rubble. “Insured?”

“Always,” Wade answered.

“We’re not going to get anywhere without a witness, you know that, right?” The skin between McCann’s eyes puckered into a crease. “These people are like ghosts. Just about impossible to catch.”

Wade nodded, disappointment balling inside him. “I figured as much. What about the inspector?”

“It’ll be a miracle if he recovers, but right now he’s our only hope. The scene is clean. They knew what they were doing.”

He put down his coffee and pinned Wade with a glare. “No one else scheduled to be out here today?”

Wade shook his head. “We were waiting on the inspection.”

“Well—” McCann pulled in a sharp breath “—we’ll question surrounding residents. Make sure no one was out here at the time of the blast. I’ll get that started while you and I head downtown.”

The image of Kerri’s retreating back flashed through Wade’s mind. Should he tell McCann she’d been at the scene? After all, how long could she have been there? Certainly not long enough to be responsible in any way. The investigator had walked the entire scene and the surrounding woods. If Forbes had seen her, they would have heard about it.

Wade reached for the door handle, suddenly needing to get out of the cramped space. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“See if you can come up with a list of anyone who might hold a grudge against you.”

McCann’s words stopped Wade cold. He hesitated, half-in and half-out of the car.

“I thought the signature was consistent with Project Liberation?”

McCann nodded, narrowing his gaze. “True. But they’ve hit enough targets for their signature to be known. Can’t rule out a copycat.”

He twisted on the ignition, and Wade pushed himself out of the car.

“See you in a few,” McCann called out just as Wade slammed the door.

Wade slapped his palm against the glass and stepped clear of the car’s tires as McCann pulled away.

Anyone who might hold a grudge against you.

McCann’s words echoed in his brain as he headed for his truck.

There was one person who definitely held a grudge, but she wasn’t capable of something like this. Yet she had been at the scene. Wade had no idea how long, or why, but she’d been here.

Kerri had made it very clear after John’s funeral that she wanted nothing to do with Wade ever again. He’d respected her wishes. Until now.

Now an innocent man had been critically injured and Pine Ridge Estates had suffered millions of dollars worth of damage. Wade had every intention of finding out exactly why he’d been targeted and by whom.

Even though he knew McCann and his team would leave no stone unturned, he had to talk to Kerri. Maybe she’d seen something—seen someone. Then again, maybe she hadn’t. No matter. If she knew anything at all, Wade had to know.

He and Kerri Nelson were about to have their first reunion after three long years.

Whether she wanted to, or not.

## Chapter Two

Kerri sipped on her hot tea and glanced out the window. The heavy rumble of fire trucks had ceased and the late afternoon sun had begun to slip behind the trees, casting long shadows across the sandy yard out front.

A pair of detectives had come and gone, wanting to know if she’d seen or heard anything over at Pine Ridge. She’d lied to their faces and maintained a calm composure. Matter of fact, the ease of lying had surprised her.

She’d never thought herself capable, at least not to two police officers, yet she’d had no problem telling them that yes, she’d heard the explosions and sirens, but that no, she hadn’t seen a thing. She’d gone on to explain her son had been in his bedroom all day, terribly ill with chicken pox.

She was no fool. Neither of the officers so much as asked to speak with Tom, taking her word as gospel and probably wanting to avoid the boy’s alleged germs more than they wanted to question him.

The deception had been easy, and when the whisper of guilt flared inside her, she batted it away. Nothing she or Tom had seen would make a difference.

Except the man who ran away, her conscience whispered.

She frowned as a hunter green pickup pulled into the drive, easing down the private lane and coming to a stop next to her SUV. When the driver emerged from behind the tinted glass her breath caught. She lowered her cup to the windowsill, afraid she might spill its contents.

“Tommy,” she called out to her son, now happily glued to a television video game. “I need you to run back upstairs for a bit.”

“Aw, Mom.”

Normally, her son’s whine would have set her teeth on edge, but her only concern now was keeping him as far from Wade as possible.

She stepped away from the window just as Wade began his walk across her slate stepping stones, leisurely making his way past her carefully manicured flower beds.

Kerri hurried into the center hall, crossed to the television and pushed off the power button. Tom’s eyes grew huge, then morphed into narrowed slits.

She jerked her thumb toward the stairs. “Quickly,” she whispered, just as Wade’s knock sounded at the front door.

She waited until Tommy had cleared the top step before she put her hand on the doorknob, drawing in a deep, steadying breath.

“Who is it?”

“You know perfectly well who it is,” Wade answered. “I saw you looking out the window.”

Damn the man.

Kerri jerked the door open, three years worth of pent-up anger boiling inside her. “You’re not welcome here.”

Wade’s dark eyebrows lifted, but his stare never left her face. She fought the urge to shift her weight from one foot to the other, an effect he’d had on her since the day they’d first met.

The tanned skin around his eyes held more creases than she remembered, and his rich, brown hair showed the slightest glimmer of gray at his temples. The subtle signs of age had made him more handsome than ever.

She shook off the thought and reminded herself of his role in John’s death. The memory effectively smothered any lingering fondness she felt for the man.

“What?” she asked, hoping her sharp tone would leave no doubt he wasn’t getting across the threshold.

As if reading her mind, he lifted one workboot to the sill. Kerri dropped her focus to his foot, then narrowed the opening of the door.

When she returned her attention to his face, his expression had shifted from warm to intense.

“Did you hear about the fire?”

“Hard not to,” she answered. “I’ve already spoken to the police. I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“I saw you.” The dark eyebrows lifted again, and the line of his jaw grew sharp.

Kerri blinked, but fought to keep any additional reaction out of her features. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

Wade nodded. “You saw me and you ran, didn’t you?”

She made a snapping noise with her mouth and shook her head, unable to force a suitable response out of her brain.

“In the woods.” Wade leaned so close his warm breath brushed her face. “Behind the houses. I saw you run away.”

“Uncle Wade?”

Tom’s voice cut through their standoff, and Kerri stiffened. “Damn,” she muttered under her breath.

Footsteps pounded down the staircase, and Tom squeezed between her and the door frame, launching himself at Wade.

The man pulled her son into an embrace, all signs of confrontation disappearing from his face as he beamed at the child.

“Who’s this?” He ruffled her son’s hair. “And what did you do with that little squirt who used to beat me in basketball?”

Tom laughed, and Kerri caught herself smiling. Her son’s laughter had become a rare commodity since his father’s death. The sound never failed to bring a smile to her lips, even if the cause was Wade Sorenson.

“You might as well come in,” she said, pulling the door open wide.

Wade released Tom and followed the boy inside. “You look good, Red,” he whispered in Kerri’s ear as he brushed past her shoulder.

Kerri shot him a glare as she closed the door. If the man thought the use of her old nickname would warm her feelings toward him, he had another thing coming.

It would be a cold day in hell before she willingly welcomed Wade Sorenson back into either her heart or her home.

WADE HAD NEVER SEEN such fury in the blue depths of Kerri’s eyes. Not even in the days following John’s death. Back then, her eyes had been full of pain and grief.

He hadn’t seen her since they’d buried John—and their friendship—but it was apparent the years had replaced her grief with a hard-edged anger.

There’d been a time once—many years earlier—when Wade thought what he felt for Kerri went far deeper than friendship, but his best friend had beat him to the punch, asking out the fiery redhead before Wade could muster the courage to do the same.

He’d watched John and Kerri fall in love, marry, give birth to Tom. He’d watched them struggle through marital difficulties, financial stress and parenting. And he’d watched Kerri bury her husband, watched Tom say goodbye to his father.

Wade drew in a deep breath and held it, bolstering his resolve. He might not have been prepared for the magnitude of the anger in Kerri’s once warm blue eyes, but he could handle it.

He intended to get to the bottom of what had happened today, and if he had to use Kerri and Tom to gain that information, so be it.

Tom slid into a chair at the kitchen table and Wade mirrored his movement. Without asking, Kerri poured them each a glass of milk then placed a sleeve of cookies in the middle of the table.

The familiar action enveloped Wade in a wave of memories, and for the briefest of moments, the past three years slid away, carrying him to the happy time before the accident. Before John’s death.

The reason for his visit brought him crashing back to the present.

“So have you seen my new site?” he asked Tom.

Kerri shot him an angry glare as she dropped into the chair directly across from him.

Tom nodded. “It’s great for skateboarding.”

Wade hesitated for a moment. The new curbs hadn’t gone in until earlier this week. If Tom had tried them out, he’d been to the site recently.

“So he’s heard.” Kerri spoke before Wade had a chance to ask Tom the obvious question. “He’s forbidden from going to the site,” she continued. “We’re well aware of how dangerous construction sites can be.”

Wade winced, then felt like hell as Tommy dropped his chin, lowering his gaze to his lap.

“So, you’ve never been there?” He directed the question at Tom, willing Kerri to keep her mouth shut.

“I just told—”

“I’m asking Tom,” he interrupted her, his tone growing sharp. Too sharp.

Kerri scraped her chair back against the hardwood kitchen floor. “I think you’d better go.”

“You know a man was critically injured there today, Tom. If you saw anything at all, you should tell the police.”

He watched as the boy frowned, feeling like a bully for pressuring the kid, but growing desperate to get the admission he thought Tom might be withholding.

Suddenly, Tom lifted his gaze to Wade’s, his blue eyes far too serious for someone so young.

“The guy in the truck?”

“Tommy,” Kerri admonished.

Wade nodded. “Yeah, the guy in the truck. Did you see anybody else?”

Tom looked nervously from Wade to his mother and back.

“He’s not getting involved, Wade.” Kerri’s voice shook with emotion. “I won’t let him.”

Wade pushed back, standing toe to toe with Kerri. He gripped her elbows, holding her near. “If he saw something, he’s our only witness, Kerri. No one else was there. We can stop whoever did this.”

She visibly softened, and Wade thought she was a breath away from agreeing, when the emotional shutters returned to her stubborn gaze.

“No,” she said flatly. “You’re on your own.”

Disappointment and anger battled inside him. “If you’re afraid of retaliation, no one but the investigators on the case need to know. We’ll keep it out of the media.”

Fear shimmered in Kerri’s eyes. So he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Haven’t you brought us enough heartache?” She pulled free of his grip and moved toward her son. “Tom, honey, tell your Uncle Wade goodbye. You need to get cleaned up for dinner.”

Disappointment flashed in Tom’s eyes, but he did as he was told. After he’d moved out of earshot, Kerri spoke again.

“Your insurance will cover your loss, right? Leave my son out of this.”

“Is this what you want to teach him, Red? You want to teach him not to cooperate instead of trying to make a difference.”

Color flared in her cheeks. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

She might as well have slapped him.

Without another word, Kerri moved from the kitchen to the hallway to the front door, jerking the heavy wooden door open.

“We never had this conversation. If you care at all about Thomas and me, you’ll walk out of this door and you won’t come back.”

“Why did you go to the site? You know what he saw, don’t you?”

“He didn’t see anything, Wade. He dropped his skateboard and ran when the fires started. I went back for his board.” She slowly shook her head from side to side. “That’s all. You need to leave us alone.”

There was no denying the fury in Kerri’s voice, but Wade spotted more than anger in her eyes. He’d known the woman long enough to know she was bluffing.

“You’re lying.”

She bristled, but stepped nearer, so near Wade could pick up the soft scent of her soap.

“I will not let you drag my son into this. Is that understood? He saw nothing.”

“I don’t believe you.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’d never let anything happen to him. Why won’t you trust me?”

One of her auburn eyebrows lifted, as if she couldn’t believe he’d asked the question. “Get out of my house.”

“The police think Project Liberation did this, but they need a witness.”

“Leave.”

Wade stepped out onto the front step, tensing as the door slammed behind him. He’d give her this round, but if she thought she’d won the battle, Kerri Nelson was in for a rude awakening.

IS THIS WHAT you want to teach him?

Wade’s words echoed through Kerri’s brain as she cracked open the top of her jewelry box later that night. The polished amethyst heart lay safely beneath the box’s velvet tray, still tucked into its pink drawstring bag, even after all of this time.

There had been moments over the years when she’d wondered if she’d married the right friend. Her school-girl crush had been on Wade, yet it had been John who had pursued her and married her.

Wade had never fought for her, never expressed an interest in her. She traced a finger across the smooth, cool stone. Except for this. He’d given her this on Valentine’s Day, just hours before John had asked her out for the first time.

She returned the stone to its bag, drew the satin ribbon tight and dropped it into the jewelry box, replacing the tray and closing the lid shut with a snap.

It didn’t matter now whether or not she had once cared for Wade. John had given her a son she loved more than life itself, a son so much like his father, her breath sometimes caught at the mere sight of his crooked smile.

She’d trusted Wade Sorenson years ago, and then he’d let her down, betraying her trust and her friendship.

Now he wanted her to trust him again—with Tom’s safety.

As Kerri clicked off her bedroom light and stared out the window into the Pinelands, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to trust Wade again. But one thing was certain.

She’d do whatever it took to protect her son. No matter the cost.

Hours later, after a sleepless night, she groaned at Tom’s words at breakfast.

“I want to help, Mom.”

Kerri looked up from the skillet and glared at her son. “No.”

“But Uncle Wade said I’m the only witness.”

And once the police knew that, chances were whoever set the explosions would know that, too. Kerri wasn’t naive enough to think the local law enforcement officers could keep that news quiet.

“They can do this without you, trust me.”

Defeat overtook the determined expression on her son’s face, and for a moment, Kerri thought about cooperating with the police. Was she wrong to encourage her son not to care? Not to help?

According to Wade Sorenson she was, but Wade had his own agenda, didn’t he? After all, his reputation had taken a hit after her husband’s accident. Surely this incident—domestic terrorism or not—wouldn’t do a thing to help that reputation along. The quicker they got the investigation resolved, the better it would be for Wade.

Well, she wasn’t worried about Wade. She was worried about Tom. Anyone who was capable of the crime her son had witnessed, was no doubt capable of far worse if it meant keeping the lone witness quiet.

When the phone rang, she answered without waiting for the caller ID readout. Her stomach tightened at the sound of Wade’s voice.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” she lied. “You?”

“Not a wink.”

Silence stretched across the line, and Kerri held her tongue.

“Have you made your decision?” he asked.

“I thought I made myself perfectly clear last night.”

She waited for his response as a fresh silence beat between them.

“The township inspector died this morning.”

Kerri’s breath caught, and she leaned against the kitchen counter.

“We’re talking about murder now.” Wade spoke with an intensity she’d never before heard in his voice. “Murder, Kerri. In your backyard.”

“On your construction site,” she shot back.

“He left three kids.”

Wade’s words sucked the air from her lungs, sending her memory racing back to the moment she’d found out John was dead. She would never wish that horrific reality on another wife, on another child.

“Don’t they deserve to find out who did this?” Wade asked softly.

“Yes.” Kerri’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“What?”

“Yes,” she repeated. “You heard me. What guarantee do I have that Tom’s identity will be protected?”

At the breakfast table, Tom straightened, excitement shimmering in his eyes. He was too young to know there was a huge difference between what he read in his detective novels and real life.

“You have my word,” Wade said.

Kerri resisted the urge to tell him his word was worthless in her book. Tom didn’t need to hear that. The kid still worshipped Wade like the hero they all once thought he was.

“The police can come to us,” she said.

“Can’t do it. You’ve got to come in. I’ll pick you up and we can use the back entrance.”

“I can drive myself, thanks. Just tell me where to go.” She glanced at the hand-painted clock on the wall over the sink. “We’ll be there in an hour.”

The sooner they got this over with, the better. Once Tom made his ID—or not—they could return to life as normal, and Wade Sorenson could fade back into their past, where he belonged.

## Chapter Three

Wade stood quietly, observing the police sketch artist as he guided Tom through the process of developing a likeness of the man he’d seen. The boy’s review of suspected Project Liberation member photos had gotten them nowhere. Tom hadn’t recognized a single face as that of the man at Pine Ridge.

Kerri sat at McCann’s desk, nervously watching her son. Wade couldn’t help but notice the dark smudges beneath her eyes, nor the lines of worry across her forehead.

So much for her story about sleeping like a baby. She looked like she’d been up all night. He couldn’t blame her for the way she’d acted when he’d been at the house, for not wanting Tom to cooperate. After all, the boy was all she had left. She was smart enough to know Project Liberation was a dangerous organization.

He moved to rest a hand on her slender shoulder, but she leaned away from his touch. There had been a time when she would have leaned on Wade for support, when she had leaned on Wade for support. All that changed when Wade’s own testimony during the investigation into John’s death had directed the blame at her husband.

Maybe he should have lied to protect his friend’s memory. Maybe he should have let his company take the blame, but he hadn’t. He’d chosen the truth instead.

The doubt whispering through him was nothing new.

Wade blew out a frustrated breath and moved away from where Kerri sat, not wanting to cause her any additional discomfort. McCann caught his eye and gave him the thumbs-up. Wade stole a glance at the sketch and realized the artist was almost done. The suspect’s hair, nose and mouth—every feature—had been captured in crystal clear detail.

Tom had done an incredible job of providing the necessary descriptions.

When the sketch artist gave McCann the signal that they were through, the detective gathered Tom and Kerri and walked them briskly out of the room. Tom shot a quick glance at Wade, who winked in return, but Kerri never so much as looked his way, keeping her eyes averted as if the sight of him might turn her to stone.

He sank into the battered chair next to McCann’s desk and waited for his friend’s return. He didn’t have to sit still for long. McCann returned almost immediately, and Wade realized he must have handed off the Nelsons to someone else.

“What do you think?” he asked as McCann slipped back into his chair.

“We’ll get it out there.” McCann gripped the sketch tightly in one hand. “If this guy’s local, we’ll get him.”

“I promised the mother the kid’s name wouldn’t leak out.”

McCann nodded. “I heard you the first three times you told me. You have my word on it.”

Wade tipped his head toward a small gathering of detectives on the far side of the room. “What about their word?”

McCann scowled. “They’re pros, Wade. They aren’t going to broadcast the identity of our only witness. Relax.”

But as Wade stood amidst the ruins of Pine Ridge Estates a short while later, he couldn’t help but worry. Whoever had coordinated this devastation had also been a pro. A pro with an agenda.

How much of a risk did Tom present as a witness? The kid had obviously had a clear view of the bomber’s face. Wade could only hope the suspect hadn’t had a clear view in return.

If word of a witness got out, just how far would the bomber—hell, Project Liberation—go to keep him quiet?

The ecoterrorists prided themselves on destroying only property, not lives. But now that they’d crossed that line, now that the inspector had died, what were they capable of doing to avoid paying the penalty for murder? To avoid getting caught?

The stench of the fire hung heavy in the summer heat, and Wade silently cursed himself. Maybe he’d been wrong to involve Tom and Kerri. Maybe he should have left the investigation up to McCann and his team.

He turned away from the burned-out shells of the luxury homes, back toward his dust-covered pickup.

Kerri was wrong about being the only one responsible for Tom. Wade was responsible now, too. He might have failed John’s memory in life, but he planned to honor that memory now.

By protecting his wife and son.

KERRI BRUSHED a lock of hair from Tom’s forehead as he slept, pride welling inside her. He’d been such a little man today. Brave and confident.

He’d had one heck of a day, and the excitement had caught up to him. He’d practically fallen asleep at the dinner table, his head bobbing dangerously close to his bowl of chili.

She’d been amazed when he didn’t protest her suggestion that he get ready for bed early. She’d been even more surprised when he’d asked for his Uncle Wade as she’d tucked the covers around his shoulders.

Kerri knew Tom was hungry for male influence in his life, knew he missed his father terribly, but inviting Wade back into their lives would be a mistake.

She’d sat next to Tom’s bed until his breathing had grown even and steady, his features relaxing into peaceful sleep.

Kerri flashed back on the feel of Wade’s hand on her shoulder earlier at the police station. His brief touch had ignited an angry tangle of fury and need inside her. There were times she wanted someone to lean on, wanted someone to help her navigate life without John, but allowing Wade to be that person wasn’t an option.

He’d made his choice, and now they all had to live with the consequences.

When the phone rang, she rushed to pick up the receiver, wanting to stop the ringing before the noise woke her son.

“Hello,” she spoke into the phone.

The only sound that greeted her was silence. She glanced at the caller ID readout. Blank.

She hadn’t given the machine enough time to register the number, and she pressed the phone back to her ear.

“Is anyone there?”

The silence grew deafening, and just as she was about to hang up, the caller drew in a deep, rattling breath.

“You should have minded your own business.” The voice was deep and gruff, and chilled her to the bone. The voice was obviously male, but not that of anyone she knew.

“Who is this?” Kerri was barely able to push the words through the trepidation squeezing at her throat.

“Don’t talk to the cops again.”

The line clicked dead, and she froze momentarily, the receiver still pressed to her ear, her heart pounding in her chest.

She dropped the phone and raced back to Tom’s room, releasing a relieved breath when she spotted his sleeping form, unmoved from where she’d left him. Safe. Unharmed.

Returning to her own room, anger began to press through her fear, and she snatched the phone from the floor, dialing Wade’s number from memory.

He’d promised her—promised Tom—he’d keep their identities a secret.

He’d lied. Again.

He picked up the phone on the third ring.

“How could you do it?” Kerri heard the hysteria in her own voice and worked to calm herself before she spoke again.

“Red?” Wade sounded groggy, as if the turmoil and emotion of the past two days had caught up to him, just as it had caught up to Tom.

“They know, Wade. They know.”

“Who knows? What happened?” His voice was sharp now, alert and focused.

“I got a call. He told me not to talk to the cops again.” Tears shimmered in her vision as she spoke, and she blinked them away, willing herself to hold it together. “He said we should have minded our own business.”

“I’m calling McCann.”

“No.” Kerri’s voice boomed. “No more. Tom’s done helping you.” A tear slid down her face and she sniffed as she swiped it away.

“I’m coming over. Don’t answer the phone or let anyone else in until I get there.”

Before she could protest, Wade was gone. She took the phone with her into Tom’s room where she sat, in the dark, watching her son sleep, silently vowing to keep the voice on the phone as far away from him as possible.

WADE DROVE LIKE a bat out of hell, sliding his pickup into the mouth of Kerri’s driveway. His pulse had pounded in his ears ever since she’d told him about her mystery caller.

Damn. How had word leaked out about Tom’s involvement? Was McCann to blame? One of his men? Had someone from the media been lurking outside the station? Or did Project Liberation have someone on the inside?

He shoved the truck into Park, cut the ignition and launched himself from the driver’s seat, covering the ground between the truck and the house in several long strides.

Kerri yanked the door open just as he raised his hand to knock.

“I heard you pull up.” Moisture glistened in her eyes, mixed with the anger that had taken up permanent residence there. She still gripped the phone in her hand, and Wade reached for it, prying the receiver out of her tense fingers.

“Where’s Tom?” He pressed a hand to her back, and when she didn’t move away, a measure of relief eased through him.

“Sleeping.”

He led Kerri into the kitchen and pulled out a chair. She lowered herself into the seat then dropped her face to her palms.

“I’m sorry. I never thought this would happen.” He squatted next to her, putting one hand on her knee.

This time, she shoved him away, raising her gaze to meet his. “You didn’t think.” She scowled at him. “You didn’t think at all.”

“McCann gave me his word—”

“Apparently his word is worth just about as much as yours is.” Kerri cut him off before he could finish his thought.

Wade opened his mouth to protest, but hesitated. “You’re right,” he said, instead.

The surprise that flickered through her features was unmistakable.

“I should have thought this through. I should have left you and Tom out of this. You’ve been through enough.” He cupped her chin in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Kerri blinked, visibly softening for a moment before she pushed away from him, standing, then crossing to the kitchen window.

“Right now, I don’t care whether you’re sorry or not.” She spoke softly, intently. “I care about you keeping us safe. That’s one promise you’d better keep.”

“I’ll call McCann in the morning. Find out who’s behind the leak.”

“The caller said no more cops.”

“We can trust McCann. And I trust him not to tell another soul about your caller.”

She studied him intently, then nodded, the movement so slight it was barely detectable. “I’m going upstairs. I want to be with Tom.”

“I’ll sleep on the sofa.” Wade reached for her as she passed, lightly gripping her elbow.

Kerri hesitated, meeting his look with eyes that had morphed from determined to exhausted. “There’s a blanket in the family room closet.”

“I remember.”

She nodded, then walked out of the kitchen. Wade waited until she’d climbed the steps, waited until he heard Tom’s bedroom door open and then close again before he moved an inch. He plucked the coffeepot from its stand and filled the water reservoir for ten cups.

He had no intention of sleeping on the sofa or anywhere else tonight.

As long as Kerri and Tom were asleep upstairs, he’d be awake downstairs. Standing guard.

WADE STOOD AT the front door and watched Tom head off on his bike to deliver papers. He smiled as the kid bounced his bike over the gravel drive, oblivious to the fact that somewhere out there, someone was furious there’d been a witness to the Pine Ridge fires.

“Are you sure this is such a good idea?” Kerri’s tired voice sounded close behind him. He turned to watch her drying a breakfast plate, going through the motion like a robot. An exhausted robot.

“Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” He reached for the plate and towel, taking them from her and tipping his chin toward the staircase.

“It’s okay.” She shook her head and frowned. “I slept a little.”

“I’m not buying that one again.” Wade returned his focus to the drive, catching just a glimpse of Tom as he vanished out into the street.

“You didn’t sleep, either.” Kerri stepped next to him, looking past him out into the yard. “Sofa wasn’t touched and if I’m not mistaken, half my can of coffee has gone missing.”

He stole a glimpse at her profile, detecting just the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her lips. “Must have been Tom.”

“Right.” She looked at him, her features hinting at the warmth he’d missed for the past three years. “Thanks for watching out for us.”

With that, she took the plate and towel away from him and headed back to the kitchen.

Thanks for watching out for us.

Wade thought of Thomas—alone—out on the quiet road, delivering papers along the route he’d no doubt followed countless times before.

A habit.

A routine.

Dread coiled into a tight knot in Wade’s gut, and he reached into his pocket, wrapping his fingers around the keys to his truck.

What if whoever had made the call last night knew more about the Nelsons than just their phone number? What if he knew where they lived? Where Tom went to school? What time he set out every morning on his paper route?

“I’ll be right back,” he called out as he pushed out into the warm August morning and trotted across the stepping stones toward his truck.

His imagination might be in overdrive, but suddenly Wade couldn’t imagine why he’d ever let Tom head out the front door alone in the first place.

HE WAITED FOR the boy to round the corner, emerging from the private lane, headed toward the housing community a half mile down the road.

The description fit. Correct size. Correct approximate age. Correct hair color.

He kept his foot pressed on the van’s brake until the boy was far enough ahead that following at a distance wouldn’t draw unnecessary attention.

The boy’s paper-delivery bag bounced against his back as he careened over the gravel shoulder and onto the asphalt road. He then steered the bike back onto the shoulder, then back onto the asphalt, repeating the move like a game. Bouncing the front tire as he did so, holding his body up off the seat, as if riding a wave.

It was a shame the kid had to be silenced, but an order was an order. The driver shook his head. He had no choice. Keeping the kid quiet was the only way they could carry out the rest of the plan.

The pieces had begun to fall into place, and they couldn’t afford to be derailed now—by a witness—even if that witness was just a kid. The game had changed once the local inspector had died.

Careless.

He’d been careless. The construction site had been clear when he’d set the devices. He hadn’t even spotted the inspector’s truck when he’d fled the scene, only hearing about the victim later on, from news reports.

Silencing the kid would redeem his mistake and keep the organization intact.

He pressed down on the accelerator, closing the gap between the van and the bike. The plan was a simple one.

A hit-and-run.

A fatal accident wouldn’t be a first for this isolated stretch of road, but it would be the last for the witness.

Just a few more yards and the threat of exposure would be eliminated.

Permanently.

## Chapter Four

Wade pulled to the end of the drive, quickly glanced to make sure the road was clear, then turned in the direction Tom had taken. He pressed the accelerator to the floor and squinted down the road, frowning when he realized a plain white van obscured his view.

A plain white van.

Suspicion rolled through him, and as much as he tried to tell himself his imagination was working overtime, he couldn’t convince himself otherwise.

The phone call to Kerri had been real, just as any perceived threat to Tom had to be considered real.

The van’s brake lights illuminated briefly, the vehicle slowing just enough for Wade to make out Tom’s figure not far in front of the truck. The kid was so busy bouncing his bike on and off the edge of the road he was no doubt oblivious to the fact there was a van close behind him.

The van accelerated suddenly. Wade’s heart stopped cold in his chest. What in the hell was the driver doing?

And then he realized.

The driver was aiming for Tom.

Wade hit his horn, keeping one palm pressed to the steering wheel to keep the sound blaring as he floored the truck, urging it forward. As he closed the distance between him and the van, he searched for any sign of a license plate, but saw none.

None.

A plain white van without a license plate on a deserted stretch of road steering straight for the sole witness to a violent crime.

He needed no imagination to put those pieces together.

Wade pounded the horn now, a quick series of loud blares, hoping he’d jolt Tom from his play and alert him to the danger closing in from behind.

Just as Wade’s truck closed to within inches of the van’s bumper, the vehicle swerved sharply toward the shoulder, its right wheels dipping into the sandy soil. The brake lights never illuminated; if anything, the van sped up.

Tom.

My God.

Fear seized Wade’s heart and twisted.

Just as quickly as the van had swerved off the road, it swerved back on and sped away. Wade braked, frantically searching for any sign of Tom or his bike.

Then he spotted it. A chrome wheel rim, spinning upside down between a small stand of firs.

“Tom,” he uttered the word on the breath of a whisper, skidding his truck to a stop, slamming it into Park and launching himself out of the driver’s seat.

Kerri would never forgive him. Hell, he’d never forgive himself. Why had he been so intent on bringing whoever had torched Pine Ridge to justice?

Was erasing any doubt about his own reputation or insurance fraud so important he’d risk Tom’s safety?

“Tom!”

He raced toward the spot where the bike wheel spun, slowing as it lost momentum. Something in the foliage moved and Tom’s pale face appeared from behind the trees. “What happened?”

Wade reached him in two strides and pulled him into an embrace. “Did the van hit you?”

“No.” Tom shook his head slightly. “I heard the beeping and I figured he was out of control or something. I ditched into the trees and got out of the way.”

“Good job, buddy.” Wade shot up a silent prayer of thanks and breathed the words into Tom’s hair. “Good job.”

Tom pushed away from Wade and turned toward his bike. “Think it’s ruined?”

Wade shook his head, reaching to pull the bike from the trees, wanting only to get Tom back to the safety of Kerri’s house. “We’ll fix it. Don’t worry.” He tipped his chin toward the truck. “Climb in. Let’s get you home.”

“But my papers.”

“Throw them in the back. We’ll figure something out.”

As Tom settled into the passenger seat next to Wade, the boy frowned. “Do you think that guy will be all right? Maybe his brakes are out or something.”

“Or something,” Wade muttered. “Let’s just say I think he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

Tom’s gaze narrowed, but Wade said nothing more as he made a three-point turn and headed back toward Kerri’s drive, silently vowing to make sure the driver got exactly what was coming to him.

KERRI HAD JUST RETURNED the last of the breakfast dishes to the kitchen cabinet when Tom’s voice rang out from the front of the house.

“Mom!”

The anxiousness palpable in his one word sent her heart lurching into her throat. She spun away from the kitchen counter just as her son cleared the doorway and launched himself into her arms. He buried his head against her denim shirt and she wrapped her arms around him, holding tight, not asking the questions pounding through her brain.

What happened?

Are you all right?

What are you doing back from your route so early?

When Wade stepped into the kitchen, his face ashen, their eyes met and held. In that moment, Kerri knew all she needed to know. Something had gone wrong. Horribly wrong.

Had someone tried to hurt her son—or worse? Had it been whoever called last night? Was it the man who’d set the devices at the Pine Ridge site?

The details didn’t matter.

Her son’s safety did.

“I’m sorry.” Wade spoke the words flatly, in a defeated tone.

Tom pushed away from Kerri’s embrace, his eyes bright with a mix of excitement and fear. “You should have seen it, Mom. This guy in a van, he was out of control. I ditched into the trees and then Wade was there. I think the guy’s brakes were out or something.”

Or something, Kerri thought.

Wade winced when she glared at him and she knew she’d hit the mark.

Her son’s close call hadn’t been an accident.

Whoever wanted Tom’s silence apparently wasn’t going to sit around and give the boy a second chance. Well, she had no intention of giving Tom’s attacker a second chance at her son.

She squeezed Tom’s upper arms. “Run up to your room for a minute, honey.”

“But my route…”

Genuine concern shone brightly in his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile inwardly at his devotion to his paper route.

“I’ll call the paper and let them know what happened.” She tipped her chin toward the hall. “I’ll be up in a few minutes. And pull out your duffel bag.”

Kerri shifted her focus to Wade as she spoke her next words. “You and I are going to take a little trip.”

Tom frowned, but asked no questions, his footfalls pounding up the stairs a moment later.

Wade stepped close and Kerri took a backward step, having no desire to be physically near the man. What little warmth she’d felt toward him earlier vanished, chilled by the dangerous situation into which he’d tossed her son.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A mix of frustration and concern blazed in his eyes.

“Getting my son as far away from here as possible.” The fury in her voice startled her.

Wade narrowed his dark gaze. “You don’t even know what happened.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need to know. It’s plastered all over your face. Someone tried to run him down, didn’t they?”

Wade winced again, guilt washing across his tense features. He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Kerri’s voice rose sharply and she hoped Tom had closed his bedroom door. “You’re sorry someone tried to run down my son. He could have been killed, am I right?”

Wade hesitated, his gaze searching her face, gentle now. She ignored the sudden desire to let her anger soften beneath the sincerity of his stare.

He nodded.

Kerri moved to push past him, but he hooked one of her elbows in his grasp. She pressed her lips tightly together, fighting the urge to shove him away.

“The police will protect you. You can’t run. Whoever this is will find you. Let me help you.”

“Help us?” She jerked her arm free of his grasp. “This family has no need for your help. I can take care of my own son, apparently far better than you can.”

“Let me go talk to McCann.”

“McCann? What has he done to protect us? Obviously not enough.” She leaned close, anger heating her cheeks. “Someone in that department leaked Tom’s identity and you want to go back there for help? What’s wrong with you, Wade?”

He straightened as if she’d slapped him. “Maybe I was wrong to drag Tom into this.”

“You’re damned right you were wrong. Now it’s up to me to get him out of this. We’re leaving town for however long it takes.”

His strong features tightened with worry. “Where will you go?”

“It’s better that I don’t tell you,” Kerri answered, leaving out the fact she had absolutely no idea about where to go. “If you don’t know, you can’t tell anyone.”

One dark brow lifted. “You don’t know where you’re going, do you?”

Damn the man. He’d been able to see right through her since the day they’d met. She forced a weak smile and tipped her chin. “Don’t I?”

Wade turned for the door. “I’ll be back in an hour.” He gave her a long look over his shoulder. “Do not leave until I come back. Promise me, Red.”

Kerri nodded in an effort to hasten his departure. The sooner he was in his truck and out of her drive, the sooner she could throw together some clothes and food, grab her son and leave town.

She had no idea of where they were going or for how long, but every instinct she possessed screamed loud and clear. As long as they stayed where they were, Tom was in danger, and that was a reality she wasn’t willing to accept.

She had no plans to wait for Wade’s return.

Not now.

Not ever.

WADE DIDN’T WAIT for Adam McCann to wave him over to his desk, instead storming across the precinct floor. McCann’s eyes narrowed as Wade neared, and he held up a finger while he cut his phone conversation short.

Wade leaned over the desk, dropping his voice so low only McCann could hear. “You want to tell me who on your team leaked word of the Nelson boy being a witness?”

McCann’s eyes narrowed further still. “What are you talking about?”

“Someone called Kerri last night and threatened her to keep her son away from the police.”

“Damn it.” McCann reached for the phone. “I’ll put someone at the house—”

“Not good enough,” Wade interrupted and leaned closer still. “Someone tried to run that boy down this morning.”