A dangerous reunion they may not survive

In this Mount Shasta Secrets novel

FBI agent Tori Peterson intends to find her sister’s murderer, even if someone’s willing to kill her to keep the truth hidden. But that means returning home and working with the lead detective—her ex-boyfriend, Ryan Bradley. Though sparks still fly between them, Tori and Ryan must stay focused on catching a killer...before they are silenced for good.

ELIZABETH GODDARD is the award-winning author of more than thirty novels and novellas. A 2011 Carol Award winner, she was a double finalist in the 2016 Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery/Suspense, and a 2016 Carol Award finalist. Elizabeth graduated with a computer science degree and worked in high-level software sales before retiring to write full-time.

Also By Elizabeth Goddard

Mount Shasta Secrets

Deadly Evidence

Coldwater Bay Intrigue

Thread of Revenge

Stormy Haven

Distress Signal

Running Target

Texas Ranger Holidays

Texas Christmas Defender

Wilderness, Inc.

Targeted for Murder

Undercover Protector

False Security

Wilderness Reunion

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Deadly Evidence

Elizabeth Goddard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09737-6

DEADLY EVIDENCE

© 2019 Elizabeth Goddard

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“What were you thinking going over those falls?”

She should have expected the third degree from Ryan. Tori kept her voice low and replied, “That’s not exactly what happened.”

“So you weren’t kayaking alone? You didn’t go over the falls?”

Tori locked eyes with him. “I went to the river to travel in Sarah’s path the day she died.” She held back the furious tears that surged unexpectedly. “So I went kayaking.”

“Why do you torture yourself?” His expression twisted into one of severe pain. “Is that why you went over the falls?”

Her heart might just rip open. He knew her better than that. “How could you even think that? I planned to turn back. But someone shot at me and hit the kayak. I tried to get away, and in the end, I had nowhere else to go. The falls grabbed me. I thought I was going to die.”

Ryan’s mouth hung open as if he couldn’t quite absorb the full meaning of her words, and he appeared to search for an adequate response but came up empty.

“Someone tried to kill me.”

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for reading Deadly Evidence! I hope you enjoyed the story and the first book in my newest series, Mount Shasta Secrets. As you might have figured out by now if you’ve read my other books, I love beautiful settings that usually include mountains or a Pacific Northwest coastline.

In Deadly Evidence, tragedy struck Tori’s life when her sister was murdered. Through that tragedy, Tori’s perspectives changed drastically. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what it sometimes takes to make us realize what’s truly important in life—the friends and family around us whom we should appreciate and not take for granted. Whom we should take the time to cherish and love.

But it doesn’t have to take a tragedy for us to savor the time we have with our loved ones and prioritize what is truly important. I hope and pray you treasure those around you while you can.

I love hearing from my readers. You can find out ways to contact me—Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc.—through my website at elizabethgoddard.com.

Many blessings!

Elizabeth Goddard

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.

—Psalms 119:105

To the One who lights my path

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to my family, who put up with the many hours I spend on my computer crafting stories. Also a big thanks to my writing buddies, who encourage me along the way and patiently listen to my wild ideas and offer suggestions. My sincerest gratitude to my editor at Love Inspired Suspense, who gave me the opportunity to indulge my imagination, and to my agent, Steve Laube, who never stops working on behalf of his clients.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE
Wind River, Northern California

Victoria “Tori” Peterson glanced over her right shoulder as she rowed in her kayak, enjoying the view of the Wind River as it traversed through the shadow of Mount Shasta in beautiful northern California. Sweat rose on her back and beaded at her temples. Her muscles burned with each row of the double-bladed oar, but she welcomed the pain as the kayak glided on the river.

The exercise invigorated her. Got her heart pumping and the oxygen flowing.

It reminded her that she was alive.

Still, the uncanny sensation that someone was following her clung to her.

Another glance told her that no one was behind her. No one was on the river as far as she could see in the middle of a Monday afternoon. The weekend was over and summer was ending—students were back in school.

She was utterly alone out here. Just how she wanted it.

This stretch of river was calm and slow and perfect for relaxing, contemplating and easing her troubled mind after the tragedy that had brought her all the way from Columbia, South Carolina. And for which she’d taken bereavement leave from her job as a special agent with the FBI.

She shrugged off the heaviness and focused on the sound of the oar cutting through the gentle flow as the current carried her forward. She needed this moment of solitude to get her through the next few weeks. Before the river became agitated and the current too strong—before Graveyard Falls—she would urge the kayak upstream against the current and back to where she had parked her car.

Sarah’s car, actually. The thought of her sister brought on a surge of tears.

Focusing on the environment instead, Tori held them back and guided her bright blue kayak forward. The river twisted through the designated wilderness area and opened up into forests at the base of the mighty mountain—an inactive volcano. Mount Shasta could be seen from nearby Rainey, where she’d grown up.

The serene setting belied the violence that had taken place along the river only a few days before. Maybe it was the weight of that memory that punctuated the brisk mountain air and the combined scent of pine, hemlock, fish and fresh water with the feeling that someone had followed her.

Or maybe someone was really there.

She’d only taken leave last week in order to attend the funeral and hadn’t so quickly forgotten to listen to her instincts. Still, she pushed the fears aside for the moment. Let the memories surface as she floated on the river that would eventually travel through Rainey on its way to empty into the Shasta River.

Growing up, she and Sarah had kayaked here all the time and camped in the area close to Mount Shasta—the mountain that had hovered over them their entire lives. Those memories made her laugh with joy even as she cried with grief. Those peaceful memories would forever be spoiled for Tori now.

But life went on around her. Nature blossomed and gloried in beauty as though nothing tragic had happened. The sun shone down on her. An eagle floated on the wind above her, its high-pitched whistle underscoring the wild environment around her.

And that eerie yet glorious sound nudged her with the very question that had nagged her since her return. What had driven her to join the FBI, move across the country and leave behind the most beautiful place on earth? Leave behind her family, her sister and even a guy she could have married? Whatever those reasons, she couldn’t quite remember them now. Instead, she would give anything to have stayed and gotten more time with her sister, Sarah.

She squeezed the oar and released her fury, taking it out on the river with each cut into the water.

The report of a rifle resounded, echoing through the woods and bouncing off the water.

Tori flinched and her gaze flicked to the woods behind her. She took in her surroundings again. Was someone simply out for target practice? She couldn’t think of any hunting season open just yet, but she wasn’t up-to-date on hunting season laws.

A thump shuddered through her kayak as another shot resounded. Her kayak had taken the hit. Someone was targeting her kayak.

Targeting her!

Her heart lurched as panic swelled. Pulse pounding, she pushed harder and faster with the oar.

She should have listened to her instincts. This was one of those moments when she hated to be right. Even if she hadn’t wanted to believe it, someone had been following her. Somehow. Someway. They had waited here to ambush her. They’d planned their attack well. She couldn’t possibly paddle fast enough or move out of the crosshairs if someone intended her harm.

Another bullet slammed into her kayak. Tori took hope in the miss. It seemed that whoever was shooting wasn’t a trained sniper. Given the recent murders, she doubted they were just trying to scare her or warn her away. No, they were trying to hit her—and she couldn’t count on them missing forever. Their next shot might hit the mark and injure her, or worse, kill her.

Her arms burned and lungs screamed as she sliced from the right to the left. Right, left, right, left, her body twisting with the movements, until it felt like she was one with the kayak.

God, please, please help me!

I can’t die now! I have to find Sarah’s killer!

Despite her efforts, she would never make it out of range if the shooter’s rifle could handle the distance.

And if the shooter was determined.

Somehow she had to make this harder for the shooter. But how?

Ideas. She needed ideas. If she left the kayak and swam to the opposite shore, then what? She’d be stuck over there at the shooter’s mercy. She’d have to dash a hundred yards before she could hide in the tree line.

She couldn’t count on being able to make it to safety that way. No. Tori needed to push farther on the river. Get much farther away and downriver and then she could possibly make her way to the trees before being gunned down. She’d be safe once she put enough distance between her and the shooter...except she had no idea how far the long-range weapon could shoot.

She had a feeling one of the shooter’s shots would hit its mark if she stayed in his sights.

Another idea came to her. Tori gasped as she continued to push, putting more distance between her and the shooter. Hope built inside her that she would soon be out of range.

Would her idea work or would it kill her in another way? Before another bullet could slam into the kayak or into her body, she made a decision. Sucking in a big breath, Tori flipped the kayak as if to make a wet exit, only she remained in the kayak, floating on the river upside down, hoping instead to confuse the shooter. Make him wonder if she was planning to swim to shore, or if she’d drowned.

If he couldn’t see her, she reduced his ability to kill her. Maybe.

He might still take a few shots, hoping to kill her under the water. But she knew from her training that water distorted bullet trajectories, especially if the shooter wasn’t experienced enough to compensate.

Holding her breath, she urged the kayak forward and out of range. Eyes open, she worked to avoid the outcropping of rocks thrusting toward her, but she wasn’t quick enough. Pain lanced through her as the jagged edge of a broken rock gouged her shoulder. Her need to cry out almost cost her the last of her breath.

Lungs burning and screaming for oxygen, she held on to the last of her air a little longer, refusing to draw river water into her lungs. Had the shooter stopped, convinced he’d successfully shot her? Could he confirm that through his scope while she was beneath the water?

Her lungs spasmed. She was running out of time. The current grew stronger, the water more agitated. The kayak was getting closer to the falls.

Two options remained. She could exit the kayak and swim for it—or she could remain in the kayak and try to make the riverbank. She’d be on the opposite side from where she believed the shooter had perched to take his shots, and she’d be farther downstream by several hundred yards, but if the shooter had a good long-range rifle, he could still pick her off.

Using her hips and oar, she rolled the kayak back so she was above the water and sucked in a long breath. Her pulse raced.

Graveyard Falls roared in her ears and fear constricted her chest.

Too close. She was much too close to the falls. Had sending her over the falls been the shooter’s intention all along?

Idiot. She’d been such an idiot!

She paddled backward, but the strong current had seized the kayak in its grip and wouldn’t let go. The current was much too powerful for her—especially since she hadn’t practiced this water sport in a long time. Tori groaned with the effort as she fought the current, the violent rapids and rush of water that would soon take her over. She fought to steer clear of the outcroppings of boulders that caused the water to boil even more. The river ensnared her, leaving her gasping and choking as she fought to survive.

Had another report sounded? She couldn’t tell. Her chest swelled with fear. Good thing she hadn’t exited the kayak—at least it could offer a measure of protection against the buildup of boulders and rocks near the falls. She desperately hammered the water in an effort to free the kayak but it was no use. The river pushed her forward toward the deadly waterfall. Despite her best efforts, she was going over the falls.

This wasn’t called Graveyard Falls for nothing. Her breaths came fast, unable to keep up with the oxygen demand of her rapidly beating heart. Would these be her last breaths?

Graveyard Falls propelled the kayak, along with Tori, over the rapids, tossing her like she was a rag doll in a toy boat.

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no!”

Tori clung to her kayak as the waterfall took her over.

In those moments, every regret, every mistake she’d made, clung to her heart.

Ryan...

* * *

Detective Ryan Bradley’s footfalls echoed down the sterile white hallway of Rainey General Hospital. Ten minutes ago, while in the middle of questioning someone in an ongoing investigation, he’d been informed that Tori Peterson was here and had asked for him.

She’d been injured, pulled from the river after going over Graveyard Falls. That news shocked him, to say the least. He was still stunned. Beyond concerned. He’d finished his interrogation, but unfortunately, he doubted he’d remember much of what was said. That was what he had a recorder for. At this moment, nothing mattered to him but Tori.

As soon as he’d heard that Tori had gone over those falls and survived, he’d wanted to rush to her side as if the last four years—and the all-important FBI job that she’d chosen over him—hadn’t come between them. Ryan wanted to see for himself that she was all right. He wanted to hold her in his arms and feel her warm body against him and know deep in his soul that she was truly okay.

That was how he found himself rushing down the hallway toward her room—whoa there, boy—when what he really needed to do was slow his steps way down. That would give him time to decelerate his too-rapidly-beating heart and get a grip! Ryan had to find a way to redirect his mind away from his spiraling emotions that threatened to overtake him.

And most of all, he needed to focus on the facts. He didn’t even know why she wanted to speak with him. Had she asked for him as a detective, or was this much more personal? Ryan should hope for the former, but his heart wished for the latter.

Traitorous heart.

He knew Tori was in town because of her sister’s murder. Tori had attended the funeral last week, and she had obviously remained in town, perhaps to help her parents go through Sarah’s things, or maybe just to comfort her parents.

Those were probably the excuses she told her family. But honestly, he could guess the real reason why she remained. He ground his molars and fisted his hands as aggravation churned in his gut. He’d figured it was just a matter of time before she sought him out—after all, he was the major crimes detective investigating the multiple homicides that had occurred two weeks ago and that had unfortunately involved her sister. He still couldn’t believe it himself.

Tori’s sister. Sweet Sarah Peterson. Gone forever.

Still, it was strange that Tori had asked for him after being pulled from the river. He was grateful she’d survived the falls, but he wanted answers about what was going on.

Spotting a vending machine—his salvation—Ryan stopped to grab coffee. He should join Procrastinators Anonymous, or was it United? After inserting and reinserting the cash into the slot until it finally pleased the machine, he pressed the appropriate buttons.

Coffee. Give me coffee, black and strong, he mentally demanded as the vending machine took its sweet time, for which he should be grateful. He needed a few more minutes to compose himself and appear like the disinterested, detached and impartial detective he strove to be.

His efforts were failing because he was definitely anything but detached and impartial. He couldn’t believe how the mere thought of seeing Tori again affected him, especially knowing that she’d come so close to death. What was the matter with him? He let his thoughts sift through the last couple of weeks and focus on Tori and her family—their needs. Not his personal issues that had no bearing in the present.

Tori had lost her sister. She had to be a wreck. Ryan had been the one to give her parents the news, and it had been all he could do to keep his composure. Those were the moments when he hated this job.

A warm cup of coffee finally in hand, he downed the contents, then steeled himself. Enough procrastinating. He walked the rest of the way to room 225 and pressed his fingers against the partially open door. Voices drifted out. Tori’s mother sounded upset. He leaned against the wall, deciding he’d give them a few moments. He popped in a piece of gum and skimmed his emails on his cell, except his mind was far from his cell phone.

Tori Peterson.

Once upon a time in the past, he’d thought he and Tori were on the same path. The same life track. He’d let his heart hope for something long-term between them. Then, when a door opened offering her the job of her dreams, she’d chosen that over him. Good for her. Bad for him. At the time, he’d been furious and hurt, and they hadn’t parted on good terms.

Four years had changed his perspective. Now, he didn’t blame her or hold anything against her. Instead, he saw it as a cautionary lesson not to set his heart on anyone. Time could heal all wounds, the saying went, and with time and experience, he’d learned his limits.

Ryan couldn’t take that kind of heartache ever again.

The voices in the room died down and the room went quiet. Time for him to make his presence known. He knocked lightly on the door as he said, “Detective Bradley. Is it all right for me to come in?”

The door swung open to reveal Sheryl Peterson. She blinked up at him, relief in her face. “Come in, Ryan. I mean...Detective.”

She eyed him as if to ask if it was okay that she called him by his first name. He smiled and gave a slight nod as he entered the room. He had known the Petersons for years—there was no need for formality with them.

Sheryl caught his arm, preventing him from going farther. She leaned in and spoke in a low tone. “I’m so glad you’re here. She’s not ready to listen. The doctor wanted to keep her another day. But she’s planning to leave anyway. Can you talk some sense into her?”

Tori stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed. Next to the bed, she swayed a bit. Ryan rushed forward and caught her. He assisted her to the bed, where she should have stayed.

“I heard you lost a lot of blood during your fight with a waterfall,” he said, his voice coming out gentle and caring. Not exactly what he’d been going for. He’d wanted to make it clear to her—to both of them—that he’d finally left their relationship in the past.

She lifted her gaze as if just now realizing he was there, that he’d been the one to assist her to the hospital bed. “Ryan. What...what are you doing here?”

Really? He’d been told that she’d asked for him. Maybe someone had made a mistake.

“I need to run an errand.” Sheryl pursed her lips, still upset with her daughter. “I’ll be right back. Ryan, please keep her in this room until I get back, okay?”

He nodded, but he couldn’t promise anything. Sheryl disappeared and left Ryan and Tori alone in the room. It shouldn’t feel awkward but it did.

“What were you thinking, taking that waterfall?” he asked. “Kayaking alone and going over the falls?”

Was she so devastated from the news of her sister’s death that she had a death wish of her own? No. The Tori he’d known before would never take her own life—no matter what.

He fisted his hands, controlling the fury over her choices and fear for her safety that he had no right to feel. Swallowed the lump in his throat at the thought of what could have happened.

He was over her. Had been for a long time. But apparently the emotional equivalent of muscle memory hadn’t gone away. When she was putting herself in danger, it was his instinct to worry.

Dumb instincts.

And he was done playing games or wasting time. “Why did you ask to see me, Tori?”

But he had a feeling he knew exactly why. Tori was here to find the person behind four murders, behind Sarah’s murder, and as lead detective on this investigation, Ryan was about to get swept up in Tori’s fast-moving current.

TWO

Ryan Bradley. Detective Ryan Bradley is in my room...

Blood rushed to her head.

Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, Tori squeezed her eyes shut and breathed steadily. She had to regain her composure and stop her head from spinning. Enduring the guy’s pensive gaze hadn’t been in her plans for the day. She’d asked to see him? She didn’t remember that part.

Tori focused on what had happened, mentally replaying images from her fight to survive the crushing falls. The helplessness as she tumbled through the air while water enveloped her. That suffocating, painful, drowning feeling of trying to catch enough air to live while unable to stop the force that could dash her against the rocks. All of it thrashed around in her thoughts even now.

Goose bumps rose on her arms.

Then she remembered... One of her last thoughts had been about Ryan. Her whole life—her decisions, mistakes and regrets—had flashed in her heart, and some of those biggest regrets revolved around him. No way could she tell him any of that here and now, if ever. She was embarrassed that she’d asked for him...but now that she thought of it, it was good that he was here. They did need to talk—not about her feelings, but about facts. But not here. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

He studied her, obviously trying to decide if she was coherent or was suffering, both physically and emotionally, too much to think clearly.

He crossed his arms. A sentinel complying with her mother’s demands to keep her here? “I don’t think they want you to leave yet,” he said.

Ah. He’d made his decision—the wrong one—and had sided with her mother. Tori didn’t want to waste time at the hospital. She needed to find out who had killed her sister and why.

Then he shifted his posture, shoving his hands in his pockets. The way his jacket bunched up, she could see his department-issue weapon at his belt. “We can talk here,” he said. “I’m assuming you want to talk about your sister’s murder.”

Amazing blue-green eyes stared down at her. His dark blond hair was slicked back and made him look far more serious than she remembered. He sported a Vandyke beard now, as was the style. In spite of herself, warmth flitted over her as she looked at him. How had he gotten more attractive since she’d seen him last?

Though maybe what really attracted her was that Ryan had that look of someone who knew what they were doing. The experiences of life shone on his face along with an intensity he hadn’t had before. Not really a hardening, but more the look of someone focused and determined, who knew what he wanted and how to get it.

Just being in the room with him was almost too much.

A shiver ran through her.

She steadied her nerves and pushed to stand. “Yes. What I have to say has to do with Sarah, though not in the way you might think. But first you should know that I’m leaving. I’ve asked for discharge papers. I’m waiting on those now. Mom was wrong about them keeping me—she’s the one who thinks I need more time here, not the doctor. So I’m leaving and I don’t want to talk about my sister here.”

His frown wasn’t unexpected. He had to know she wasn’t satisfied with his investigation into the four murders, including Sarah’s.

A social worker entered. “Ms. Peterson, I have your discharge papers and instructions. If you’ll just sign and initial here.” She laid out the yellow papers for Tori’s signature and went over the instructions for the care of her wound.

After the social worker left, Tori smiled up at Ryan. “See?” Her mother would be furious when she got back here to find Tori had gone, but at least this way, she couldn’t try to stop Tori from leaving. “But now I have a problem. I don’t have a way out of here.”

She thought to offer Ryan an innocent grin and blink as if to give him a hint—something she’d done in the past with him—but she had to steer away from giving him the wrong impression. No need to remind him of their past. Still, why wasn’t he offering her that needed ride?

Instead, Ryan watched her. She never liked being analyzed. She supposed that was hypocritical since she did that a lot to others in her role as an agent. But being on the other end of that wasn’t pleasant.

Finally he said, “I’ll give you a ride. We can talk on the way. Where would you like to go?”

“Thanks. I’ll text Mom and let her know that I’m with you and I’m okay.”

“Are you really okay?” His wary eyes showed just how worried he was. His concern went deeper than what he’d have felt for a fellow human being, or that of a detective who cared about people and bringing justice.

Ryan still cared about Tori.

Before panic could swell, she tore her gaze from him to text her mother. “I’ll survive,” she said.

At least, she hoped she would. And she would survive being in Ryan’s presence, too. As for surviving the attempt on her life—would there be more attempts? Would one of them succeed? Her sister hadn’t survived when someone had tried to kill her. Tori almost sagged under the weight of loss.

A tear trailed her cheek as she stared down at her cell. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do without her sister in her life, but the truth was they hadn’t exactly been in each other’s lives that much since Tori had moved across the country. She’d told herself that they’d make up for lost time later, with phone calls or visits. That chance no longer existed now.

The knowledge that Sarah was gone, taken from this world by a murderer, flayed her and left her raw and bleeding.

She finished the text and looked up at him again. Waves of remorse and a thousand conversations she wanted to have with him rushed through her. Tori tried not to shudder. She didn’t think he’d missed that, because Ryan had always been sharp and could read people even when they tried to hide something. Especially when they tried to hide something.

And years ago, he’d had an uncanny ability to read her. Had that changed?

Fifteen minutes later, they sat in a booth at a coffee shop. Tori had suggested they have their talk over coffee. Ryan had obliged. Coffee ordered, Tori resisted the need to take painkillers. Her shoulder had been wrapped, and she’d been given blood. She’d heal, with or without the painkillers, and she wanted her mind to stay clear. Somehow, she had to toughen up and see her way through this.

Ryan studied her. Scrutinizing her again?

“Would you please stop?” She rearranged the condiments.

Frowning, he shook his head. “Stop what?”

“Please stop looking at me like you’re dissecting me. I’m not a frog. This isn’t Biology 101.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No? I see you making mental notes that Tori Peterson doesn’t like to be studied. I’m not a suspect, so you can quit with your intimidation tactics.”

He shrugged. Then he shifted forward in the booth, a frank expression on his rugged face. “I’m worried about you.”

“This is just a gash in my arm.” He had no idea yet of the real reason why he should be worried. She vaguely remembered the pain of that rocky outcropping gouging her, but at least she wasn’t dealing with a bullet wound to her head or her chest.

“What were you thinking, going over those falls?” He’d asked the question before and wanted an answer.

She kept her voice low and said, “It was not exactly my choice.”

The waitress brought their coffee. Tori poured half-and-half in hers. Ryan sugared his up too much for her taste.

“What are you saying, Tori? That you weren’t kayaking alone? That you didn’t go over the falls?”

“See, this is what I wanted to talk about.” She took a sip of coffee and let it warm her belly, then leaned back. She shut her eyes and calmed her breathing. Let herself remember.

Tori opened her eyes. “I thought I was going to die when I went over the falls. I fought to survive and somehow...somehow I did survive. I woke up and coughed up water. Maybe the couple who pulled me from the river revived me. I don’t know. But I do remember now that I said your name, Ryan.”

Deep lines carved into his forehead and around his mouth. “Tori, I—”

“I went to the river today to travel in Sarah’s path.” That, and she’d needed to remember what it was like to be on the river at the base of Mount Shasta. She’d needed to remember Sarah. “I’m staying in her house. I’m on bereavement leave now.” She held back the furious tears that surged unexpectedly. “So I went kayaking along the river. That’s what the four of them were doing that day, wasn’t it? They were camping and had their kayaks, so we know they had planned to go down the river.”

“Why would you torture yourself like that?” His expression twisted into one of severe pain. “Is that why you went over the falls?”

Her heart felt like it might just rip open at the realization that he really seemed to believe it had been a suicide attempt. She’d thought he knew her better than that. “How could you even think that? I planned to turn back. But someone shot at me and hit the kayak. I tried to get away and in the end, I had nowhere else to go but into the water. I thought I could get to shore once I put some distance between me and the shooter, but the falls grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. You know how strong the current is the closer you get to Graveyard Falls.”

Ryan’s mouth hung open as if he couldn’t quite absorb the full meaning of her words, and he appeared to search for an adequate response but came up empty. Tori decided to fill the silence herself.

“Someone tried to kill me.”

* * *

Stunned at her claim, Ryan somehow found the strength to close his mouth. Then to form words. “Are you sure?” Entirely lame and inadequate words. He knew as soon as they escaped his lips, but especially after the glare she gave him. She didn’t like that he’d questioned her.

As an FBI agent, she thought herself superior to him. He knew that with certainty because that was why she’d wanted to join the feds to begin with. And suddenly he was thrown back in time. He’d never been good enough for Tori Peterson. Nor would he ever be good enough.

But he didn’t care to be good enough for her now. Finally, he could let go.

Keep telling yourself that.

“Of course I’m sure. Why would you doubt me?” She narrowed her eyes and studied him. Must be her turn to analyze him.

He wasn’t intimidated by her FBI-schooled expression. Instead, he was terrified that her words could be true. “I didn’t say I doubted you. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve suffered a great loss. I’m concerned, that’s all.” He wanted to believe that her memories of what happened were false memories brought on by the trauma and her injury. Ryan didn’t want to even entertain the possibility that someone had actually tried to kill Tori.

“You don’t believe me? I can prove it to you, Ryan. Let’s go find the kayak. You can look at the bullet holes yourself. We can gather evidence together.”

“You’re not part of my investigative team.”

She pursed her lips. “But I am going to investigate, whether you want me to or not, so wouldn’t it make more sense to work together? Especially if the attack on me is in any way tied to Sarah’s murder. What do you think, Detective Bradley? That Sarah’s death was a random act of violence—four kids killed by someone out on a shooting spree while camping? Or that maybe they stumbled upon something they shouldn’t have seen? Or did someone kill four kids to cover up one murder? On any of those possibilities, do you think the murders are drug-related?”

Okay. Well, sure, that it was drug-related was his working theory for now. Wasn’t it almost always drug-related no matter the crime? He said nothing, wondering what she’d say next—what she’d reveal. She’d called the victims kids, but they had been in their twenties. Still, Tori considered Sarah her kid sister growing up and that obviously hadn’t changed. He understood because he had three siblings himself.

Katelyn was his twin sister, then there was his brother Reece, who was two years older, and Benjamin—Ben—who was three years younger. He couldn’t imagine losing any of them.

How was Tori even holding it together?

“Fine. You don’t want to answer now. We can talk on the way to the river. Are we going or not?” Her determined tone and severe frown left no doubt as to her resolve.

Of all the times for him to crack a smile—but he couldn’t control himself. He’d always loved it when she got fired up over something she believed in. So feisty and determined. Did she realize how much Sarah had idolized her? Sarah had wanted to be just like her sister, and had found her own passionate way to serve people by involving herself in social justice issues. Tori had taken a different route but fought for justice all the same. And when she was on the hunt for answers, nothing and no one could make her stop. He knew she was right that he wouldn’t be able to stop her from investigating, but he’d torture her a few moments longer with a wry grin before he’d announce his decision.

Meanwhile, he took his time admiring her new look. She’d cut her long brown hair shorter so that it hung to her shoulders, and she’d dyed the silky tendrils a soft golden blond that was growing out and revealed hints of brown. Ryan remembered her smile—she’d always had the most amazing dimples that drove him wild and made him want to kiss her.

Even now, with the mere thought of it.

He cleared his throat and forced his impartial face in place. He was such a liar. “Let’s go.”

* * *

In his unmarked utility vehicle belonging to the Maynor County Sheriff’s Department, he drove toward the river. He would radio for assistance once he got a look at the kayak himself to confirm Tori’s claims. He wanted to see the bullet holes first. Ryan held on to the small hope that her memory of today’s earlier events was off. If Tori really was being targeted for some reason, that would terrify him but also change the investigation.

As if sensing his need to contemplate what she’d told him, she kept quiet and left him to his own thoughts. He gripped the steering wheel too tightly as he steered the SUV through the small town of Rainey, the town where he’d chosen to live. Rainey had proven to be peaceful and quiet—a place he could go home to at the end of a long day of facing crime puzzles and criminals and simply relax and breathe in the fresh air.

But the murders two weeks ago—just outside of Rainey—had rocked his world. In fact, the whole town of Rainey had been shaken.

Ryan kept driving until he was on the long, curvy road that followed the Wind River. Tall trees hedged the road to either side on this part of the drive and he could barely make out the peak of Mount Shasta as he headed toward the camping and river rafting/kayaking area where Tori told him she had parked her vehicle.

Not far from where four people had been murdered.

He knew the spot well. Had been there too many times to count—with her, no less. He made to turn into the parking area but she touched his arm.

“You need to go all the way down to the base of the falls,” she said. “My kayak is probably downriver, unless someone already picked it up.”

She dropped her hand, but he still felt the spot where she’d touched him.

Of course the kayak would be downriver of the actual falls. He should have thought of that. Being this close to her, he couldn’t think straight. But he’d give himself a break—he hadn’t seen Tori in so long and now she’d been injured and could have died on those falls. He was allowed to be a little distracted under those circumstances.

“Maybe whoever shot at you already grabbed the kayak.” And with the words, he realized he’d lost all hope that she’d been mistaken. He believed that someone had, in fact, shot at Tori Peterson.

Tori was a good agent, and despite the trauma and the grief of loss, she would know exactly what had happened. She’d been trained to have an excellent memory. She glanced his way with an arched brow as though she thought his words were simply more sarcasm.

“What? I believe you.”

Her brows furrowed.

“No, really. I had hoped you were mistaken, I’ll be honest.”

His response seemed to satisfy her and her expression relaxed. “Let’s hope we can find it.”

“Agreed.” He sighed. “We need to talk this through. I take it you think that whoever shot at you is somehow connected to Sarah’s murder.” And also Mason’s, Connie’s and Derrick’s. Four people in their twenties just out camping and having fun, murdered.

“I think it’s highly suspect, don’t you?” She fumbled around in that big bag she called a purse.

Unfortunately, yes. He nodded and maneuvered the road. “I don’t usually believe in coincidence. That’s why I held on to the smallest of hopes that you were wrong about what happened.”

He felt her glare again.

He glanced at her and then focused on the road. “A detective can hope, can’t he? I didn’t want to think that someone had tried to kill you, Tori. And the fact that they did brings up another question.” How did he word this?

“Well, what is it?”

Might as well try. “Someone killed four people, leaving us to speculate on the reasons and focus a lot of resources on finding answers. Why would they draw more attention by shooting at you? What could they hope to gain with that attempt on your life? It doesn’t make sense.” Though when did murder ever make sense?

“I don’t know. I think... I was close to the falls. Honestly, I think they had hoped to send me over to die and make it look like an accident. Maybe they had planned to make sure I was dead, but the couple found me first.”

“But again—why?”

“Maybe they don’t like Sarah’s FBI sister digging into things and planned to head me off before I found out the truth.”

Ryan did not like to hear those words. They meant Tori’s life was in ongoing danger. Man, did he wish this wasn’t happening. Those kids were gone and that was tragic news. It was his job to find their killer, but how did he also prevent another murder, and Tori’s at that? His insides twisted up in knots. Tori was an FBI agent and had faced dangerous situations in her job, but that didn’t make him feel any better about her safety. On-the-job danger was one thing—someone actively trying to kill her was another.

Finally he came upon the sign for the trailhead and boat launch at the bottom of the falls. He parked at a gravel parking spot near the river, just down from where it spilled over Graveyard Falls. On weekends and during tourist season, the place would be crowded. People liked to hike along the narrow path between boulders, to get closer to the waterfall and watch the majesty of the beast, as well as feel the spray hitting their faces and getting them wet.

Tori reached for the door. He touched her arm and she held back from opening the door. “What is it?”

“Before we get out, there’s more I want to say.” Before finding Tori’s kayak with a bullet hole or two in it messed with his head. “My working theory has been that the murders are drug-related. Sarah’s boyfriend, Mason Sheffield? Turns out he had some priors. Mostly the usual stuff with drugs. Maybe he was dealing or stole something. Sarah got involved with the wrong guy. It happens, Tori, you know it does.”

She shifted in the seat to face him. “So they take out a group like that? And the law comes down on them?”

“I agree. That wasn’t smart.”

Tori shook her head vehemently. “I’m not buying your theory. Or rather, I’m not ready to settle for it.”

Ryan held his temper in check. Did she realize she’d insulted him? But he was curious, too. “So let’s have it. What do you think happened?”

“Killing several people in a group out camping could be a ploy to take the focus off just one murder.”

“You brought that up earlier. That doesn’t mean drugs aren’t involved.”

She stared straight ahead and heaved a sigh. “It’s not like Sarah to date someone who was into drugs.”

“I hear you. I didn’t want to believe it, either, but in the world we live in, our loved ones are getting involved in dangerous things left and right. And family ignores it, chooses not to believe it, or somehow they live in complete ignorance.” He drummed the console between them. They needed to get out and find the kayak. This wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“If it was all stuff from years ago then I can see Sarah giving him a second chance,” Tori said. “Maybe he wanted to change. Maybe she was helping him to get clean.”

“I can see that, too.”

When Tori said nothing more, he finished what he’d started. “Bottom line is that, regardless of the reasons, the murders are heinous crimes that make no sense. But even if we manage to find answers, making sense out of the murders won’t bring Sarah back. It won’t change anything.”

“Is this your way of suggesting I stay out of it?”

He shrugged. “You have a job and a life back in South Carolina, Tori. It’s my job to solve this. Staying here won’t bring her back.” He braced himself for her reaction and when it didn’t come like he expected, he released the breath he’d held. The truth was that he understood why she felt she had to stick around and try to find Sarah’s killer. If he were for some reason assigned to another case and removed from this one, he would still work to solve Sarah’s murder. He wanted to make sense out of her death, too.

“Look—” she released a sigh “—murder can never be resolved, not really. Finding out who did this and why will be enough for me. But nothing we’ve said here explains why someone shot at me.”

She was right. Taking her out, too, made no sense. But if that was what had happened, then he doubted the danger was over. He knew she wouldn’t leave until the murderer was caught, which meant he would have to figure out how to protect a capable special agent who didn’t think she needed protection. And the worst part?

Ryan feared he would fail.

THREE

Making their way to the falls, they trekked alongside the fast-moving river, Tori leading Ryan, who trailed a few paces back. The roar grew louder with their approach. The force of the falls up ahead compelled the river forward, causing it to be swift and dangerous. The memories of the moment Graveyard Falls pulled her down and over lashed at her insides.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she could keep up the search for her kayak, and stopped to watch the river. While swirling in that vortex, she’d feared she would die.

Had Sarah known she was going to die? What were her last thoughts? Tori hated to think of the terror her sister must have endured. Had Sarah also spoken someone’s name in those moments before her death? And if she had, whose name would she have said?

A loved one’s?

Or the killer’s?

A shudder crawled over her.

“You okay?” She was freed from her musings by the arrival of Ryan’s sturdy form next to her.

“Sure.”

Tori shook off the morbid thoughts and started hiking again. She turned her focus instead to this path next to the river and the unbidden memories floating to the surface. She and Ryan had hiked this trail on multiple occasions when they were seeing each other. Probably like the young couple who had pulled her from the river earlier in the day.

Back then, it had been just the two of them. Hand in hand. Falling deeper in love with each passing day.

And they’d shared more than one amazing kiss right here when no one else was around. Her chest grew tight.

Was he thinking about those kisses, too? She hoped not, but when she glanced over her shoulder and caught his pensive gaze, she knew where his mind had gone—to them as a couple before she left.

Pain cut through her at how different things were now. Instead of a couple in love enjoying a nature walk, they were now joined together only by the need to find a killer before he struck again. Was that why she’d said his name earlier? Because he was the investigator on Sarah’s case? Tori had thought she was going to die, and maybe she’d wanted to somehow let Ryan know that her death hadn’t been an accident. She’d thought of him—her last coherent thought before the greatest struggle of her life, and then, she’d huffed out his name when she came to.

If she hadn’t said his name, they would probably be here together now anyway, since she would have gone to him to report the attack on her as soon as she left the hospital. That she’d said his name shouldn’t matter so much, but it bothered her and she wanted to know why. She would have to think about that later, though. Much more pressing matters needed her attention.

She hiked forward, closing in on the falls.

The flash of color on the other side of a rocky outcropping drew her attention. “There. I see a kayak.”

“Fortunately it’s not across the river,” he said. “Are you sure it’s yours?”

“It looks like mine, and if it’s not, then that could mean someone else went over the falls.” She didn’t think that was the case.

Spotting the kayak exhilarated her. Now they were getting somewhere. Not that she feared he doubted her words—not anymore, at least—but the kayak with a bullet hole or two in it would go a long way to boost her theory, one she hoped Detective Bradley was also formulating.

They made their way around boulders and roots, and then to the edge of the riverbank where the broken kayak had wedged between rocks. Tori gasped at the sight. She wrapped her arms around herself.

That could have been her body. Broken and lifeless.

Ryan’s frown deepened. He appeared shaken as he pressed his hand over his mouth then rubbed his chin.

Then, seeming to pull himself together, he reached in the pocket of his jacket and tugged out a small camera. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Jerry, our tech, out here now that we know it’s part of a crime scene, but I want to take my own pictures just in case.”

Ryan walked around the kayak and took photographs from various angles.

She peered at the front portion. “See, just there. A bullet hole.”

“Here’s another.” He pointed, then crouched and took close-ups of the holes.

Tori looked around for the oar, but she doubted she’d find it. “I’m surprised a bullet went through the material, but I guess it all depends on the caliber of bullet and the quality of the kayak materials.”

“Right.”

“We’ll have to go up above the falls to look for rifle shells,” she said. “It’s a big area to search.”

“Finding a shell doesn’t mean it belonged to this particular shooter,” he said. “We need bullets, too.”

“Your lab can get ballistics, can’t they?” Tori had to be careful what she said. Ryan was probably kind of touchy about the limited resources of his job compared to hers, and she didn’t want to sound superior. But, well, the FBI had superior training, facilities and labs. The best, in fact.

He pursed his lips and eyed her as he got on his radio and asked for evidence collection and retrieval of the kayak. “We’ll need to wait here to make sure no one disturbs it intentionally or otherwise, although if they had intended to do that, I think the kayak would already be gone.”

Tori started toward the falls. “I’ll hike up topside and look for rifle shells. There were more than two shots fired, even though there are only two bullet holes in my kayak.”

Ryan grabbed her arm and gently squeezed as he pulled her toward him. “Are you serious? What makes you think whoever shot at you won’t try again? You’re not going up there.”

“In that case, what am I even doing out here with you?”

“Good question.” He worked his jaw as if angry with her. Angry with himself.

His concern for her chipped away at the wall around her heart. She reminded herself that his reaction didn’t mean that he cared for her on a personal level. Of course he would be this concerned for anyone. Right?

“I don’t think the shooter is still here,” she said. “When I got on the river, I had an eerie feeling. You know the one. I felt like someone was following me. Like someone was watching me. But I don’t sense that now.”

He scraped a hand through his hair, messing with the slicked-back look. “Come on, you can’t trust a feeling like that. Not saying you should ignore it when you sense that someone is watching you, but you can’t be certain you’re safe just because it doesn’t feel like anyone’s watching you.” He searched the ground near the kayak. For footprints? Too many hikers had been by the kayak today for forensics to find anything. After a minute, he lifted his gaze to look at the woods. A group of senior citizens hiked up the trail toward them, lost in their conversation. They smiled and bade them a good day as they passed.

The shooter wouldn’t try again here today with people out on the trail, would he? The couple who’d found her hadn’t been at the top of the falls where she’d been forced over. She’d been alone up there when he’d shot at her. Tori rubbed her arms and stared at the woods. She absolutely wouldn’t let fear take hold of her or stop her. “We have to find who did this, Ryan.”

Her comment drew a severe look from him, one that she knew well. Tori averted her gaze.

“Don’t you have a job back in South Carolina to get back to? How long are you staying again?” The friction between them edged his tone. “Bereavement leave doesn’t give you but a week or two, does it?”

“I...I don’t know,” she said.

“What?”

She hung her head. Closed her eyes. “You’re right. Officially, I only have two weeks, but I’m considering taking an indefinite leave.”

“Why would you do that?”

A feral emotion flashed in his gaze. She understood the deeper meaning behind his questions. She’d given him up. She’d left him for an FBI career—now he wanted an answer as to why she would give it all up for this investigation when she wouldn’t give it up for him. She offered a one-shoulder shrug. “Mom and Dad are devastated. They’ve lost a daughter, Ryan.” She looked in his eyes and took in the blue-green hues. “I need to be here for them and...”

Something shifted behind his gaze—and for the life of her, she couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. Again, she had the strong sense that he still cared about her. That he’d never stopped. Her next words would drive an even bigger wedge between them. She’d hurt him terribly when she’d chosen her career with the FBI over a relationship with Ryan. She’d wanted more than working law enforcement in a northern California county. She could have taken a job and worked with him, but she’d taken the FBI’s offer.

Tori drew in a breath. She might as well say it. “I need to make sure her killer is caught.”

He lifted his chin to search for words in the bluest of skies. “And you don’t trust me to do that.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant. You can’t go home because you don’t think we’ll find the killer without your help.”

“Ryan, please tell me that you understand. You would do the same if it was one of your siblings, someone you loved dearly, no matter who was investigating.”

When he looked at her again, she saw resignation. “You’re not here in your capacity as an FBI agent, so I’m going to ask you not to interfere. Trust me to do my job, Ms. Peterson.”

The air rushed from her lungs. Oh, come on. She took a step toward him, trying to think of what to say to get him to see, though she wasn’t sure why she wanted him to understand. “Ryan, please. I...I trust you to do your job. I promise I won’t interfere with your investigation.”

He nodded and huffed, then surprisingly gave her a wry grin. “I hear what you’re saying. And what you’re not saying. I know you, Tori. You have your own investigation going.”

Sarah... “While you’re looking for the person who killed four people, I’m looking for the person who killed one person. Sarah. You can’t get in her head like I can. You can’t walk in her shoes or think the way she would have thought. That’s all I’m doing.” She and Sarah were sisters. No one could know her better, even with the fact that Tori had lived far from Sarah for four years.

His forehead furrowed. Eventually he would come to the same conclusion about whom the murderer had intended to kill—the one target—if he hadn’t already.

In the distance, they saw two county SUVs pull up behind Ryan’s unmarked vehicle.

“Looks like the wait is over.” He sounded relieved. “I can’t stop you from investigating on your own. But don’t make me charge you with obstruction. If you find evidence, please call me.”

Even a private investigator looking into a major crime like murder could get charged with obstruction if he or she wasn’t careful. “I will, I promise.” She eyed him. “I trust you with this case, honestly.” More than he would ever know or believe. “And you’re a good detective. You’re a good man, Ryan.”

He stared at her as if he didn’t know how to take the compliment, but she saw the doubts swimming in his eyes. Being a county detective hadn’t been good enough for her. Before emotions rushed through her, she looked at the river. She shouldn’t think about the past, but she almost regretted the choices she’d made that caused her to lose him.

Almost.

Because truly regretting her choices would mean she’d made the wrong ones. And she couldn’t accept that.

* * *

While Ryan spoke to his team of deputies and his techs who would process and then transport the kayak, Tori waited near the river. Was the shooter out there somewhere, watching?

Two techs began processing the kayak—taking pictures and documenting everything. Tori was glad Ryan hadn’t just hauled it in his SUV as if it had no importance. The slightest detail could be vital in a case like this.

He left his team to work and approached her. “You ready to go?”

“I thought we were going to look up top for rifle shells. We could help those deputies search for evidence. We aren’t doing anything.”

“Let the county sheriff’s department handle it. I’m taking you home.”

Though she didn’t need the lead investigator acting as a chauffeur, how else would she get home? Dad had already gotten her car from the river. Back in his SUV, Ryan steered them toward town.

“Is there any remote chance that the fact someone targeted you has to do with something unrelated to Sarah—maybe one of your past cases?”

“I suppose anything is possible, but it’s not probable.”

They remained quiet for the remaining miles back to town. As he drove down Main Street in Rainey, her mind constantly flashed to memories of them together. It seemed so strange to be with him again, only for an entirely different reason than because they simply wanted to be together.

A gut-wrenching reason. Her breath hitched and she squeezed the hand rest.

“I keep asking if you’re all right.” He steered into the driveway of Sarah’s small bungalow and parked. “You keep telling me that you are. But you’re not okay. I’m worried about you, Tori.”

“You’ve said that.” Tori hung her head. She didn’t want to get into this conversation with him. Why did he have to keep asking? Why did he have to care? Of course she wasn’t okay.

“Is it me?” he asked.

That question brought her head up to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Is being here with me too much for you? Too awkward? I know we’re both trying to stay focused on the case, but maybe it’s too much. Maybe it’s just too hard to work together.”

And you want to avoid me, Ryan? She kept the question to herself. “Even if it’s too hard, we have to push past that. We can’t change it.”

“We can. You can go back to work in South Carolina. Be safe. Let me find who killed these people. Your sister. I don’t need your help.”

Tori had no response to that. She got out of the vehicle, slammed the door and stomped up to the home that reminded her so much of Sarah. She remembered when her sister had picked it out. Sarah had emailed so many pictures to Tori. She’d been so excited to find such a cute place to live in on her own.

Oh, Sarah...

What had happened to her was wrong on so many levels. Why couldn’t Ryan understand that Tori could not leave this alone? She wanted to look Sarah’s killer in the face. And deep in her heart, she wanted to be the one to bring him down.

At the door, she fumbled for the keys in her purse with shaking hands and then finally unlocked the door. Ryan remained in his vehicle, making a call, waiting for her to get safely inside. She wished he would hurry up and leave.

Inside, she slammed the door and pressed her back against it, her heart pounding for no other reason than she was upset with Ryan. Upset with herself. Upset that this nightmare was real. Tears leaked out the corners of her eyes.

She swiped them away. No time for grieving.

Tori needed an escape from the events of the last weeks, days and hours. Unfortunately, Sarah’s home was full of reminders instead. She shoved herself away from the door and dropped her bag on the table in the foyer. Dad had retrieved it from the car and Mom had brought it up to the hospital. Mom. She’d better text—

Clank, clank...

Tori froze. She listened.

The hair on her arms rose. Someone was in the house just down the hallway.

She pulled her weapon from her bag. Even on leave, she was required to always carry her FBI-issued weapon with her.

Weapon at the ready, she crept down the hallway toward where the sound had come from and cleared the first room. That left only one more room. Heart pounding, she whipped the weapon around as she stepped through the open door. “Freeze!”

A masked man stood much too close—her mistake—and he knocked the SIG from her grasp. She fought him, but with her injured shoulder, she struggled. Still, Tori was determined to best him. Somehow, she needed to get to her gun on the floor. Tori punched him in the solar plexus for good measure, then slammed his throat.

He coughed and gasped, but pulled out his own weapon—a nine-millimeter Glock.

Oh, no...

Tori dove into the hallway as gunfire exploded.

* * *

At the crack of gunfire, Ryan’s heart jackhammered.

He tossed his cell aside and radioed dispatch that shots had been fired and to send backup. But with Tori in danger, he couldn’t wait for them. He jumped from the SUV and pulled his Glock from his holster all in one smooth motion.

Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong.

But it was hard to mistake the sound.

He sprinted up the driveway toward the front door. The distinct sound of glass shattering resounded from the back of the house.

Weapon held at low ready, he quickly crept along the side of the bungalow, cautious near the bushes in case someone hid behind them. At the back corner, he peeked around, prepared to face off with a possible perp.

But he saw no one in the neat backyard that included a blue-and-white-striped hammock. His heart kinked as he pictured Sarah relaxing in that hammock. But there was no time to think about what had been lost. Ryan kept his weapon ready to aim and fire and continued all the way into the backyard to make sure it was clear.

At the back of the house, he found the shattered glass and the window that had been broken.

“Tori!”

While he didn’t want to destroy any evidence, his primary focus was on finding her. He approached the window carefully and glanced inside. He saw nothing. “Tori?”

There was no response. His heart rate ratcheted up.

Lord, please let her be okay.

He ran around to the front of the house and, shoving the door open, forced his way inside. “Tori! Are you okay?”

“Here. I’m in here.”

Following the voice, he rushed into the hallway and found her on the floor. His pulse thundered in his ears as he crouched next to her. “Tori, honey...”

Sweat beaded her face and blood soaked her arm. His heart pounded. “You’re hurt! Someone shot you?”

“No, it’s just my wound broke open.”

He wanted to reach for her but was afraid to make her pain worse. “What happened?”

“First, help me get up.”

He assisted her to her feet.

She bent over her thighs as if to catch her breath, then leaned against the wall, her hand pressed to her chest. “Someone was in the house. A masked man. I walked in on him. We fought, but my shoulder isn’t so good, so he got the best of me.”

Blood soaked her shoulder and arm now. While she talked, he grabbed towels from the bathroom, then pressed one against her shoulder. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

“I made a mistake and he was too close to me when I confronted him. He was able to knock my gun away. We fought and I almost had him, but then he pulled a gun of his own. That’s when I dove into the hall. He broke the window and climbed through it to the backyard.”

Tori pressed the towel against her shoulder, relieving Ryan of the task.

“He didn’t pursue you into the hallway?” Thank You, God. He couldn’t bear to think of how this could have ended—and on his watch, no less.

“No. I’m not sure why he didn’t just flee out the front door, but maybe he was afraid he would run into you. I’m also not sure why he didn’t try to...” She trembled.

Kill her? Was that what Tori would have said had she completed her sentence?

“I’m not sure why he didn’t finish the job,” she said.

His insides quaked. Ryan never ever wanted to see his Tori, tough FBI agent Tori Peterson, this shaken again.

His Tori?

“Oh, honey.” He took her into his arms, careful of her shoulder.

She cried into her hands against his chest, the bloodied towel pressed between them against her shoulder. Tori had always been the strongest person he knew—but she’d been through so much. These latest attacks meant she’d barely had time to grieve over the loss of her sister. But he supposed that this was how she’d chosen to grieve—by fighting back and trying to find Sarah’s killer. Tori’s job was all about law and justice, and for her sister to be murdered chafed in every way.

Sirens rang out in the distance and grew louder.

Finally...

“I called reinforcements when I heard gunfire.” His chin rested on the top of her head, stirring memories of him holding her in his arms—but those times from their past couldn’t be more different than the current situation.

She sniffled and stepped away. Swiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Strong Tori was back again, and strong Tori refused to show any weakness. She left him standing there and stomped into the bedroom. The guest bedroom...he knew that because he was the detective on the case, and he’d already been through the house in search of clues. Ryan trailed her.

“This is my FBI-issued gun.” She pointed at the weapon lying on the floor on the other side of the room. “He knocked that out of my hands. He was wearing gloves, but maybe there could still be DNA. Certainly not prints, though.”

“Jerry will look it over first to make sure.”

“Okay. I want it back as soon as possible.” She moved to the window. “You already know that he broke the window getting out. While your people sweep this place for prints and evidence, I’ll canvass the neighborhood.”

Right. He fisted his hands on his hips. “You really can’t let it go, can you?”

She scrunched her face but her gaze swept the room. “What are you talking about?”

“You are not the law around here anymore. You gave that up, remember? Your FBI credentials don’t change the fact that this murder case isn’t in your jurisdiction.” Nor would she be allowed to work it professionally because Sarah was her sister.

“Fine. I’m going for a walk then. I need to get my head together.”

Ryan grabbed her arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Get your hands off me.”

He released her slowly but stayed close. “Tori, just calm down. You’re bleeding, remember?” He lifted the towel and held it out to her.

She scrunched her face and took the towel, pressing it against her shoulder again. She wasn’t thinking clearly, either, or else she would suggest looking at the rest of the house. Maybe the intruder had been in Sarah’s home searching for something. Was anything missing? But Ryan wouldn’t bring that up just yet. Tori needed to see the doctor again, and she’d only insist on looking through the house if he brought that to her attention. Discovering if something was missing could wait. Her well-being came first.

Deputies finally entered the home. Tori appeared pale and remained shaken, so Ryan stayed near as he explained what had happened. Her official statement could be given later. Ryan escorted her out of the house. “I need to take you back to the hospital so you can get that looked at.”

“I’m supposed to replace the bandage anyway.” She shrugged. “I’m fine to take care of it myself.”

He’d expected her resistance and knew the best method to counter it was to redirect the conversation. “I’m considering this more than a simple break-in.”

“You mean...”

He nodded. “Yes. I told you I don’t believe in coincidence. My working theory—which I’m hoping the evidence will confirm—is now that Sarah was the primary target, not Mason or any of the others. For now, I’m going to investigate as if the rest of them were in the wrong place at the wrong time or killed to throw off the investigation. Satisfied?”

She offered a tenuous smile. “Yes.”

Outside, he ushered her back to his SUV. “I’ll take you to the ER first.”

“Ryan, I was serious when I said I would be fine. My shoulder just needs a new bandage. There’s nothing more the doctor can do, really. It needs time to heal.”

“So let it heal and stop fighting criminals. Do we have a deal?” He tossed her a wry grin, and was rewarded with a half smile.

“If you stop insisting on taking me to the hospital.”

“Fine. Then is it all right if I take you to your parents’ for the night?”

She nodded.

“Once we’re finished processing the bungalow and release the crime scene, you can go back to staying there, but I wouldn’t advise it. Whoever broke in can try again. Next time you might not be so fortunate.” He hated saying those words. Hated that Sarah had somehow made an enemy, and Tori had put herself in the line of fire to find the person responsible.

Tori said nothing more, which troubled him. Normally she would have objected or put forth her opinion, but even the strongest FBI agent could become traumatized when they had lost a loved one and been personally targeted. A female officer would pack a small bag of clothes for Tori’s stay with her parents and deliver it. He drove the SUV from the quiet neighborhood where Sarah had lived to the Petersons’ home only a mile away. After parking in the driveway, he ushered Tori to the house.

Tori knocked softly and then opened the door, peeking her head in. “Mom? Dad? It’s me.”

She stepped through the door, and Ryan remained on the porch, unsure if he was invited. Tori glanced at him.

“Tori?” Sheryl appeared in the foyer. “I thought you were with—” Her eyes caught on Ryan. “Well, don’t just leave him standing there. Come on in, Ryan.”

He looked at Tori, searching her eyes for reasons he couldn’t explain. He should get back to his investigation. He couldn’t read her. Did she want him to stay or...

“Are you coming or what?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I can only stay a few minutes.”

Sheryl gasped when she saw Tori’s arm. “See, I told you they let you out too soon! We need to take you—”

“Mom, please. I just need some fresh bandages.” Tori headed down the hallway like she was a disgruntled teenager, Sheryl on her heels.

Arms crossed, Tori’s father stepped from the kitchen area and watched them go. “What happened?”

Ryan was glad he’d stayed for a few minutes, after all. He wasn’t entirely sure how much he was ready to share with her parents, but since it appeared that Tori truly was in danger, they needed to know what was going on for their safety and hers. He was glad for the opportunity to explain things to her father; then David could figure out the right way to tell Sheryl.

As Tori’s father listened to Ryan detail the events of the day, his face paled. Ryan almost regretted telling him, but he needed all the help he could get to protect Tori.

Tori and her mother stayed in the bathroom redressing the wound and Ryan bade David goodbye. He had work to do. On their porch he took in the surroundings of the middle-class neighborhood and hoped Tori would be safe here.

But he knew that once she was able, Tori would stay at the bungalow again—tracing Sarah’s steps, she’d said. Those steps could lead her right to her own death.

Ryan couldn’t let anything happen to her. For her sake, for her parents’ sake and for his own sake.

He was a homicide detective, but he’d give that up in a heartbeat to be her bodyguard. If she would let him.

He knew Tori would say she didn’t need him.

She never needed him—not in the past, and not now.

But this time, that wouldn’t stop him.

FOUR

The morning sun broke through the crack between the drapes, startling Tori awake and away from the grips of her nightmare. Heart pounding, she bolted upright and reached for her weapon—but it was gone.

Just calm down. She drew in a few long breaths. They’d taken her gun to look for fingerprints.

It took her a breath or two to remember that she was in her old bedroom in her parents’ home—the home where she and Sarah had grown up. Mom hadn’t changed much in the room. She’d taken down the posters of teenage idols and replaced them with Scripture-laced nature pictures. Tidied up the room a bit and, oh, replaced Tori’s bed with a smaller twin bed. No wonder she hadn’t slept all that well. She was accustomed to spreading out in the queen-size bed she’d purchased for her apartment back home.

Home.

And just where was home exactly? Was it here in California or was it back in South Carolina? She pushed aside the complicated musings—too much to think about at seven in the morning.

She eased back down in bed, surprised her mind had finally let her sleep. She tried to recall the nightmare, but nothing clear came to mind and she was grateful she couldn’t remember. Still, the dream had left her unsettled. Her shoulder ached, and even itched a little. That was good. That meant it was healing.

The aroma of bacon and eggs pulled her all the way out of bed. She might as well get up to face the day. She slipped into comfy sweats and a T-shirt and meandered down the hallway with a yawn, then made her way to the kitchen, where she found Dad cooking breakfast.

He glanced up from frying bacon. “Hey, sleepyhead.” No matter that she was in her thirties and was an FBI agent, he still talked to her like she was his little girl. Tori wasn’t sure she would have it any other way.

“Morning.” She wouldn’t add the word “good.” Nothing about it was good. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured the rich dark coffee blend they all preferred. Tori breathed it in as she shoved onto a tall seat at the counter.

Dad smiled as he moved bacon from the pan to a plate, but despite the smile, a persistent, aching sadness poured from his gaze, and that, she understood completely. Her heart ached with the pain of loss they all shared.

She took a drink of coffee, hoping her thoughts would come together. “Dad, you don’t have to cook me breakfast. Or even sound cheery for my sake. We’re all still shaken over what happened. It’s going to take us a long time to get over...” She couldn’t even say her sister’s name.

He plated the eggs to go with the bacon and set the dish on the counter in front of her. “You’re still alive and with us, Tori. I intend to make the best of every moment with you. You need your energy, so eat up.”

Tori obliged and crunched on a bacon strip. “Where’s Mom?”

“She went to the store to grab orange juice.”

Tori’s favorite. Mom had done that for her. Oh, man. She sighed. This was going to be a long day. While on the one hand she appreciated what her parents were doing, she knew they would smother her if she let them. Hadn’t the whole reason she’d come back to stay for a while been to comfort them? Still, maybe they could all comfort each other. Tori knew she often wasn’t willing to admit when she needed emotional support. But maybe this time she should give in to it. Their encouragement could very well sustain her through trying to find Sarah’s killer.

Tori heard the sound of the front door opening, then closing, and in rushed her mother with a few plastic sacks of groceries. She set them on the counter and smiled at Tori—that same pain was raw and unfiltered behind her gaze.

“That looks like more than orange juice,” Tori said.

“Well, you know how it is. You go in for one thing and leave having spent a hundred dollars more than you intended.” Mom poured juice into a glass and sat it in front of Tori. “Drink up.”

Tori finished the eggs and bacon and drank the juice while her father ate his breakfast quietly and Mom cleaned up the mess he’d made. Tori carried both their plates over to the sink, rinsed them and then stuck them in the dishwasher. She turned to find her mother wiping down the counter.

Still no words. No one knew what to say.

“Thanks, Mom. Thank you both, but you don’t have to do this.”

Mom’s eyes teared up as she shrugged. “What? What are we doing? We almost lost you, too.”

Dad gave Tori a warning look, as if she’d said something wrong. Truth was, anything she said would be the wrong thing.

Tori rushed around the counter and hugged her mom. “I’m sorry,” she said.

Dad hugged them both. As warm and comforting as the embrace was, it was also steeped in sadness. She could drown in all this grief, and she had to somehow stay afloat.

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