“Just do your job—protect the witness without falling for her.”

Former city cop Caleb Foster hopes playing by the rules will clear his record so he can get transferred far away from small-town Carpenter, Alabama. But one look into the terrified eyes of a beautiful witness and he’ll make it his mission to protect her, no matter what it takes…

Alyssa Garner thought testifying against a trio of lethal bank robbers would finally end her months-long nightmare. Now Caleb is the only person she can trust when she and other witnesses become targets. She can’t resist him—or the secrets he won’t reveal. But someone driven by obsession is ahead of their every move…and won’t stop till she’s the ultimate prize.

The Protectors of Riker County

“Alyssa, all you have to do is hold on to me and I’ll get us out of this.”

She shook her head. Her blue eyes didn’t drop their stare. It finally clicked in place for Caleb. He should have realized why she was so terrified.

An overwhelming wave of feeling surged through him. Without a second thought he angled her face up. Then he met her mouth with his own.

The kiss was meant to distract Alyssa from her fear, to give her something else to focus on. Caleb also hoped it reminded her that he was there, down in the trenches with her. That, no matter what, he’d get her to safety.

Yet all thoughts and intentions fell away as the warmth of Alyssa’s lips pressed against his. Those pink, pink lips aroused something almost primal in Caleb. He wanted it to last. He wanted her…

The Deputy’s Witness

Tyler Anne Snell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

TYLER ANNE SNELL genuinely loves all genres of the written word. However, she’s realized that she loves books filled with sexual tension and mysteries a little more than the rest. Her stories have a good dose of both. Tyler lives in Alabama with her same-named husband and their mini “lions.” When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s playing video games and working on her blog, Almost There. To follow her shenanigans, visit www.tylerannesnell.com.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

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

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

The rain slapped the windshield in such fierce bursts that Alyssa Garner almost decided not to go into the bank at all.

She moved her glasses up to the bridge of her nose and peered out the window, analyzing the few feet between her car door and the overhang of the Waller Street Credit Union’s awning. If she used the two-week-old Carpenter Times she’d thrown on the back seat floorboard as a makeshift umbrella, she might not get soaked to the bone.

Alyssa looked down at her outfit. She worked at Jeffries & Sons Remodeling, and apart from being the only employee who was not a Jeffries, she was the only one who ran the day-to-day operations pertaining to the physical office. That meant she was the first person anyone saw when they walked through the front door. Even though she wasn’t a Jeffries or a son, she played a big part in creating a first impression of the small business. Which meant she was currently wearing a finely pressed white blouse, a pencil skirt and black heels that boosted her height considerably. An outfit that didn’t match with the downpour outside.

She sucked on her bottom lip, considering the option of forgoing the bank run until the next day. But just as quickly as she had the thought, she sighed, defeated. While corporations and bigger businesses might be able to push off making weighty deposits by just one day, places like Jeffries couldn’t afford the delay. Alyssa took her cell phone out of her purse and slid it between the waist of her skirt and her stomach. Some women couldn’t go anywhere without their purses. Alyssa was that way about her phone. She blamed her sister, Gabby, for that. Whenever Alyssa pointed out that Gabby always had her phone, her little sister would snap back with a simple, yet effective stance.

“The one time you don’t have it is the one time you’ll need it the most.”

It was hard to argue with logic like that.

Alyssa adjusted the phone against her so it wasn’t noticeable, put the deposit bag beneath one arm and grabbed the newspaper. Thunder crashed loudly overhead, but Alyssa crossed the divide between her car and the bank’s front door without getting swept away in the storm.

However, her glasses fogged the moment the wet air pressed against her. She paused in front of the glass double door to take them off before walking inside. She hated waiting for them to defog, looking like some kind of klutz. She didn’t need help in that department when it came to her vision. Alyssa was one of those people who couldn’t survive without her glasses or contacts. That is, unless the world decided to orbit within an inch of her nose.

Further proving that point, no sooner had she walked into the lobby than she bumped shoulders with a man leaving.

“Sorry,” she said quickly. He was too far away without her glasses on to be able to make out his face. But the blur responded all the same.

“It’s okay,” he said, before moving to the doors.

Alyssa smiled in his general direction and continued on to the closest teller line. By the time she was called up to a woman she knew as Missy Grayson, her glasses were clear again and had been replaced atop her nose. Now it was time for business.

“Deposit for Jeffries?” Missy guessed, already pulling up the account on the computer. That was a perk of living in a small town. Routines were noticed and information became common knowledge. Everyone knew Alyssa made the deposits.

“Yes, ma’am,” Alyssa chirped, trying to match Missy’s pep. “Then I think I’ll take lunch at home so I can grab a warm pair of clothes and the umbrella I didn’t think to take this morning.”

Missy’s face pinched.

“You know, I watched the news this morning and Carl didn’t say anything about a storm coming at us,” she said, nearing a full-out scolding for their local weatherman, despite the fact that he was not in the bank. “I told my husband he should even take the Jeep out with him to fish this morning. It has a soft top that’s been off on account of it being summer, so I know he had one heck of a time with that. I bet I’m not going to hear the end of that any time soon.”

“Hopefully he won’t be too grumpy about it,” Alyssa said. “When in doubt, blame the weatherman.”

“You bet I am!”

The two laughed and started in on the technical parts of making a deposit. Alyssa was already imagining running back to her car and pointing it toward home. She had some leftovers from her night out with her friend Natalie on Saturday and could warm those up while she changed clothes. Her umbrella, though... Where was it? In the garage? When was the last time she’d seen—

A scream shattered her thoughts. Alyssa whirled around and found the source coming from a woman perhaps a few years younger than her twenty-seven. Aside from the scream, she was obviously distressed. Her expression was one of pure terror. It simultaneously confused Alyssa and put her on edge. It wasn’t until the woman pointed toward the front doors that Alyssa understood.

And felt the same fear.

Two men and a woman, dripping wet, had come inside, the storm their backdrop. They wore matching gray jumpsuits, workmen’s boots and, with her stomach plummeting to the floor, Alyssa realized, ski masks. Only their narrowed eyes and lips could be seen. Their hands were gloved too. Which made the fact that they were holding guns even more menacing.

“Anyone move and we’ll start shooting,” yelled the bigger man. He stood taller than his partners and looked like he had muscles beneath his getup. He was quick to move his gun and point it at the woman who had screamed. “Keep yelling like that and you’ll be the first.”

The young woman had backed up to one of the two desks on either side of the large open room. Ted Danfield, a loan officer in his fifties, had been standing in front of his desk talking to an elderly man. Now he reached out and grabbed the young woman’s shoulders, pulling her the rest of the distance to his side. Her scream downgraded to a whimper.

“Don’t you even think about it!”

Alyssa’s attention moved to the female in the ski mask. She had stepped to the side and had her gun pointed at Robbie Rickman. Alyssa’s stomach fell even more. He was the bank’s lone security guard. Robbie had worked at the bank for years. Everyone who stepped through its front doors knew and loved him. He was kind, compassionate, and fiercely loved his wife of thirty years and three grown children.

So when the woman shot him, the ten or so patrons and employees of the bank collectively gasped. Alyssa went cold as Robbie dropped back on the floor. The gun he’d had in his hand hit the floor. Alyssa realized he’d been shot in the chest.

The woman quickly scooped up the gun and handed it back to the shorter of her partners. She kept her own gun held high. Her eyes skittered among them. Alyssa hoped the gunshot had been heard by the tenants next door, but as another loud crash of thunder sounded, preceded and followed by the hard rain, she doubted they knew the difference.

“Now that you know we’re serious,” said the bigger man, “let’s get this moving along.”

The two men shouted out orders left and right, swinging guns this way and that to help emphasize their urgency, while the woman stood silent, watching their every move. When they ordered everyone to the middle of the room, Alyssa had a hard time complying, thanks to fear that seemed to be trying to grow roots into the tile floor. But soon everyone except the other teller and the bank manager who had been taken to the back with the gunwoman were sitting in the middle of the room.

“Now,” the bigger man started, walking to an elderly man and taking off his ball cap. He flipped it upside down. “Everyone put your cell phones, wallets and jewelry in here! If you have a purse, throw it next to our friend here who got shot!”

He didn’t waste time letting that information set in. Moving quickly, the men and women of the bank put their phones, wallets and jewelry in the hat while others threw their purses near Robbie. When he got to Alyssa and shook the hat, she decided to do something risky.

She lied.

“I left everything in the car,” she explained, holding her hands out to show they were empty. “I didn’t want anything to get wet.”

The man was close enough to smell. His scent was a mixture of rain and smoke. But not from cigarettes. He smelled more like he’d been to a barbecue recently. Or standing too close to a fire pit. It was an odd thought that pushed its way into Alyssa’s head when she really should have focused on how his eyes narrowed even farther.

“Yeah, righ—”

“She just swallowed her ring!”

Alyssa and the gunman in front of her turned to look at the other gunman by the door. He was pointing to someone behind them both. Alyssa turned back around just in time to hear Missy cough.

“Did you really just swallow your ring?” the bigger gunman roared. He swung his gun over to point at her.

“You’re damn right I swallowed my ring,” she yelled back, fire in her eyes. “That ring was my mama’s and her mama’s before then. So unless you plan to wait it out, it’s staying with me.”

Alyssa felt a flash of pride for the woman—Southern ladies take their heirlooms seriously—however, it was short-lived. The gunman struck out with the butt of his gun and hit Missy across the head so fast that she didn’t even have time to yell. But Alyssa did.

She crawled over to the woman just as she fell back against the tile. Blood burst from her cheek.

“Did I say you could move?” the gunman yelled at Alyssa. She froze next to Missy, knees against the floor and hands in the air.

She didn’t respond to him. Nothing she said would have made the situation better when he was so obviously itching for some violence. Just like his woman partner. Robbie bleeding a few feet from them on the floor was a good indication of that.

“Get the rest of their stuff,” said his partner, a reminder that he’d forgotten his original task. The gunman sneered down at Alyssa, just long enough to have his dark eyes imprinted in her memory for the rest of her life—whether or not she wanted it—and moved on to the last two people in their group.

Alyssa dropped her hands and felt her adrenaline spike. Moving so her back was to the gunman near the door, she reached out and helped Missy sit up. The woman’s fire moments before had been doused. She was in pain. But she was going to have to forget that for a moment.

“Are you okay?” Alyssa whispered. With one hand she touched the open gash on her cheek and with the other she grabbed one of Missy’s hands. “It’ll be okay,” she said before Missy could answer her question. The woman looked confused as Alyssa pulled her hand to her lap. From anyone else’s point of view, Alyssa hoped it looked like she was just trying to console the woman.

When in reality she just wanted the woman to feel her cell phone, tucked out of sight in the raised waist of her skirt.

“Now, everyone keep their mouths shut! You make a move, you die,” yelled the taller gunman. He took the hat full of their goods and gave it to the other gunman. They whispered a moment before the bigger man went to the back.

The bank patrons and employees were alone with the man who, Alyssa guessed, was the most observant of the three. She wasn’t going to be able to use her phone while he was there. This realization inspired another risk on her part. One Alyssa hoped wouldn’t get her or anyone else killed.

Still holding Missy’s hand, she slipped her fingers into her skirt and pulled out her cell phone. Missy, bless her, didn’t flinch as Alyssa put the phone against her palm. When she felt the woman’s grip tighten around it, Alyssa put her hand back in Missy’s lap and patted it twice.

Then Alyssa turned, heartbeat hammering in her chest.

“Can I go over to him?” Alyssa asked, nodding over to Robbie. “Someone needs to put pressure on his wound to try to stop the bleeding.”

The man seemed, thankfully, less angry than his partners. Still, he was resistant. “I don’t think so. You stay right there.”

“But look at all that blood,” she tried again, her voice near breaking. “Please, all I’m going to do is put my hands on it. Nothing else. Please.”

The man cast a quick look at the group as a whole and then adjusted his gun’s aim to the young woman in front. She flinched back into Ted’s arms. The gunman looked at Alyssa.

“If you try anything, and I mean anything, I’ll shoot her in the face. Got it?”

Alyssa nodded, amending her idea that this man was any less violent than his friends. She got up slowly, giving Missy time to hide the cell phone, hopefully, and walked with her hands held high over to Robbie’s prone body.

She hadn’t been lying. There was a lot of blood. Since she had never been a part of the medical field in her life, she had no idea if putting pressure on a gunshot wound even worked. All she had to go by was TV shows and movies she’d seen. Still, she did as she said and dropped to the guard’s side. Alyssa put one hand and then the other on top of the wound and pressed down. Warm blood squeezed out between her fingers. Robbie was still breathing, although the breaths were shallow.

The sound of rain and thunder continued in chorus for several minutes. Alyssa kept her eyes off Missy, since the gunman seemed to be looking in her direction every few seconds, but she prayed the woman had made the call to the cops. After another few minutes, Alyssa came to the conclusion that she hadn’t.

But then Alyssa spied movement on the other side of the glass doors and several things happened all at once.

The gunman had started to turn toward the doors when she found herself speaking up again.

“He really needs a doctor soon,” she said, drawing his attention toward her.

He opened his mouth to talk just as his partners came back into the lobby.

“Cops,” the woman yelled.

The gunman at the door didn’t hesitate. He whirled around.

Then the gunfire and screaming started.

All Alyssa had time to do was throw herself over Robbie and hope she’d live long enough to tell her sister that, for once, she’d had her cell phone right when she needed it.

Chapter Two

Caleb Foster cursed something awful.

“How do you even function out here in this?”

Deputy Dante Mills let out a laugh.

“You get used to it,” he said. “Just one of those things.”

Caleb, a man who’d spent the majority of his career—and life—in Portland, Oregon, might have been okay with the blanket heat that the small town of Carpenter, Alabama, was throwing at him, but its humidity was another problem altogether.

It was one thing to be stuck in the heat. It was another to feel like you were drowning in it.

“I don’t want to get used to this,” he said sourly. He didn’t care if Dante heard him. Ever since his transfer to the Riker County Sheriff’s Department had been approved one month ago, he hadn’t been making it a secret he was unhappy. Not that he’d had much of an alternative option, though. “I want some air that doesn’t make me feel like I’m swimming standing up.”

Dante chuckled. “You city boys sure do complain a lot.”

Caleb was about to ask what his partner’s definition of “city boy” was when they came to a stop in the parking lot. He decided he’d ask that question later. Right now he was concerned about why the sheriff had called him in minutes after their shift started. He might not have wanted the Alabama weather, but he did want his job.

The Riker County Sheriff’s Department stood between the local television station and the county courthouse, all three in the very heart of the town. With two stories and faded brick and concrete, the department faced one of Carpenter’s main streets and was subsequently always busy. This was a familiar sight for Caleb, and while he wouldn’t admit it to any of the other deputies, the busyness made him a little less homesick.

He followed Dante through the front doors and into the lobby. A pretty blonde dispatcher named Cassie, who was rumored to be as tough as nails when needed, was in the center of the room talking to another woman. Both had cups of coffee in their hands.

“Hey, guys,” she greeted, cheer clear in her tone. “Happy Monday!”

“There’s no such thing as happy Mondays, Cassie,” Dante pointed out, though he smiled as he made the little quip. It seemed the whole of the department functioned like that. One person saying something, only for another to add on something equally clever or nice. Most of the time it was inside jokes or references beyond Caleb’s knowledge. He tried not to let it bother him. He was the new guy, after all. Plus, once he was done with his time in Riker County, he’d go back home. So what if he wasn’t in sync with his colleagues now? He hoped it wouldn’t matter in a few months or, God forbid, a year.

“I’m going to go see the sheriff,” Caleb said, nodding to the two women. “I’ll catch you after.”

“Good luck,” Dante called after him.

Caleb hoped he didn’t need it.

He walked out of the lobby and down the hallway where the offices were located. The sheriff’s was smack in the middle, nameplate auspiciously brighter than the others. Caleb slowed, stilling himself. He knew he was more on the pricklier side of a good personality. Quiet too. So far he hadn’t met anyone in the department with the same disposition. Again, he didn’t mind if the rest of them didn’t like him. However, he did want the sheriff to find him at least agreeable. He tried on a smile that felt forced before knocking on the doorframe of the open door.

“Come in.”

The muscles in Caleb’s smile tightened as soon as he saw the man hunched over his desk.

Billy Reed by no means should have been an intimidating man. From first glance he was too tall, too lean, and had dark hair that was too long. Maybe that was just Caleb’s opinion bleeding through, though, considering he was the opposite of the sheriff.

At five-eleven, Caleb was a man who believed in the gym as much as he believed that anyone with a clipboard on the sidewalk ready to talk about political candidates or a chance to win a cruise was supposed to be ignored. With his solid shoulders, trim body and a hard jaw, the only thing that looked remotely playful about him—according to his sister—was his golden hair, cut close but still with enough curl to annoy him. He sported a goatee but had been playing with the idea of shaving it since he’d come to town, as it was just another thing that made him hot in an already hot-as-hell town. Luckily, he still looked his age of thirty without it. He knew the sheriff was on the young side too—especially for his position—but Caleb couldn’t read the man to guess an accurate age. Billy Reed was a mystery, while Caleb was the kind of man who looked like “what you see is what you get.”

It was apparent that everyone in the department not only respected the sheriff, but liked him. And just as quickly when the man gave an order, it didn’t matter if anyone was his friend or not. Everyone listened without skipping a beat.

So when he told Caleb to take a seat, Caleb took the seat without arguing.

“I’m going to cut right to the chase,” Reed started. He threaded his hands on top of the desk. “I’m pulling you off patrol and putting you at the courthouse.”

Caleb opened his mouth, ready to complain—respect and authority for the sheriff be damned—but Reed stopped him. He held his hand up for silence. “When Chief Thomas called me and asked if I had a spot for you, I was skeptical. But I’ve known Thomas a long time and he’s a good judge of character, so I looked past what happened and gave you a chance. But while you’ve done a good job so far, being new has its own set of demands.” He thrust his thumb over his shoulder to point back at the wall behind him. “That includes pulling courtroom deputy when I need you to.”

Again, before Caleb could protest, the sheriff handed him a newspaper. A picture of a storefront with caution tape across it took up a spot above the fold.

“Almost a year ago to the day, three armed suspects used a storm as a cover to try to rob a bank a few miles from here,” he started. “There were nine hostages, including bank employees and a security guard who was shot when they entered. A woman inside was able to get a call out to us, but when we arrived the suspects opened fire. In total, three people were killed, including one of the gunmen.”

Caleb could tell by the way the sheriff’s expression turned to pain that the other two deaths had hurt. In a small town like Carpenter, he’d probably known the victims personally. Something Caleb was in no way used to. When he was a cop in Portland, he’d dealt with mostly strangers. Their indiscretions hadn’t affected him outside of his having to deal with them as his job.

The sheriff seemed to collect himself. He pointed to the newspaper again.

“The trial takes place next week and it’s going to draw a lot of attention,” he continued. “I’m adding you as backup, along with the current court deputy, Stanley King.”

“Wait, so I’m not even lead court deputy?” Caleb had to interject. It was bad enough he’d lost his reputation and his position in Portland. Never mind he had to be transferred to keep from being completely jobless. But now he was expected to go to the bottom of the totem pole to not even being on the totem pole?

Sheriff Reed didn’t bat an eyelid.

“I’ll be out of town during the beginning of the trial, as well as Chief Deputy Simmons and lead detective Matt Walker, or else I would be over there too. But as it stands, I’m looking to you,” Reed said. “This may not be your dream job, but it’s what you have and you can either complain about it or impress me. After what happened in Portland, any good marks on your résumé will help.”

Caleb wanted to argue but knew he couldn’t.

The sheriff seemed to realize he’d made a good point. He grinned. “And, hey, look on the bright side. Air-conditioning!”

* * *

ALYSSA WAS ANGRY. She was nervous too, but mostly angry.

Standing outside the county courthouse, she was dressed in her best and ready to finally testify against what locals had dubbed the “Storm Chasers.”

After the gunfire died down a year ago, she’d thought the terror was over. She’d focused on moving past that day and trying for a happier existence because of it. But then the nightmares had started. In them she’d seen the dark eyes of Dupree Slater, the taller gunman, hungry for violence, peering down at her. No regard for life. Especially not hers. Thinking of him and his only living partner left, Anna Kim, she still felt a flood of fear beating against her mental dam of calm. That dam didn’t always hold, despite the fact that both Dupree and Anna had been in custody for a year, but today she needed it to keep its place.

She shook her head, trying to physically get rid of the way Dupree’s dark eyes seemed to try to eat her whole.

But then, just as quickly, thinking of him led to the image of his partner, a man named Kevin Bates, lying dead on the floor a few feet from her. Farther away one of the bank tellers, Larissa Colt, and a local patron, Carl Redford, lying in their own pools of blood. Gunned down before the deputies could save them. They’d all been so afraid. The fear lingered to this day.

And just like that, Alyssa’s familiar fear was replaced with anger.

Alyssa hadn’t known Larissa well and she hadn’t met Carl officially, but she knew that they had been good people. Their deaths had been senseless and cruel. Both had rocked the community.

Alyssa took a deep breath and righted the purse on her shoulder. She was here for them, for herself and for Carpenter as a whole. Justice needed to be had. And it was now or never.

She walked through the double doors into the courthouse, knowing she was early but ready to get it over with. Her mind was tearing through a hundred different thoughts, trying to find a happy one to stave off her growing anxiety. So much so that she lost focus on what was right in front of her.

“Hey,” a man said. The voice was deep and even and snapped her out of her own thoughts. She turned her attention to a man standing next to the set of metal detectors that visitors had to pass through to get into the courtroom. Alyssa did a double take.

His Riker County Sheriff’s Department uniform and the belt lined with cuffs and a holster for his service weapon gave him away as a courtroom deputy. However, his job designation wasn’t what made her mentally hiccup.

The first word that clawed itself out of her mind was hot. It was such a quick, unexpected thought that heat began to crawl up her neck.

With a tan complexion that reminded her of caramel, green eyes rimmed with gold, golden hair that looked ripe for twisting with her finger and a jaw that had been chiseled straight from a statue, the deputy wasn’t what she’d expected to see in the courthouse. Or in Carpenter. Let alone addressing her directly.

“Excuse me?” she said lamely, hoping he hadn’t somehow heard her thoughts.

In turn the deputy didn’t seem to be distracted by her looks, to her slight disappointment, but was motioning to her purse with no real enthusiasm. She looked down at it, confused, until he explained.

“I need to look inside it before you can go into the courtroom.”

The heat crawling up her neck made its way into her cheeks. She was half-certain she could boil water if you put a pot of it against her skin. It had been a long time since she’d blushed with such intensity, as if she were some schoolgirl.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that.” She handed him the purse, fumbling a little in the middle, and watched as he opened and inspected the inside of it.

Alyssa averted her eyes to the doors a few feet from her. The deputy might have been unexpectedly attractive, but one look at those doors and that novelty was being replaced with nerves again.

“Are there a lot of people in there yet?” she asked the lone deputy.

He looked up from her purse, seemingly okay with it, and passed it back to her. He nodded. “More than I thought would show up this early. But I think a lot of them just came for the show.”

There was distaste in his words and she agreed with it. Small towns equaled big reactions to anomalous events. Good, bad or otherwise. Plus, somehow the robbery felt intimate to her. An experience no one understood unless it had happened to them. She could understand the loved ones of those who had been inside the bank, but for the people who showed up for the basic need for gossip, she held no love.

Alyssa took her purse back and inhaled a big breath. She started to walk forward but found her feet hesitating.

“Dupree Slater isn’t in there yet, right?” she asked just to make sure. The deputy’s golden brows drew in together. “He was one of the gunmen.”

The man who survived, she wanted to add.

“No. He won’t be escorted in until the beginning of the trial.”

Alyssa exhaled. At least she had a few more minutes to collect herself before she saw her own personal nightmare in person again.

“Are you a family or friend of his?” the deputy asked. “Of Slater’s?”

Alyssa felt her face draw in, eyes narrowing into angry slits, before the heat of anger began to burn beneath her breast. Without giving her mind permission, she thought again of what had happened in the bank. Like a movie scene left on repeat. The spot on her back began to burn in unison with fresh anger, as if it had been lit on fire and she was forced to bear the flames.

No, she didn’t want to be associated with Dupree Slater ever. Not as his friend. Not as his family. And most certainly not as his victim. That thought alone put a little more bite into her response than she’d meant.

“I am not a part of his family and certainly not his friend,” she almost hissed. “I’m here to testify against him.”

She didn’t wait for the deputy to respond. In fact, she didn’t even look for his reaction. Instead she pitched her head up high and marched into the courtroom. Ready to get the Storm Chasers and the damage they’d done out of her life. She wanted to move on and leave that nightmare behind.

No.

She needed to.

Chapter Three

Caleb was perplexed. Not a word he often thought about but one that fit the bill as he watched the courtroom doors shut behind the woman. He’d been at the courthouse since it opened, and she had been, by far, the most interesting part of his Monday. And he doubted she even meant to be interesting.

The analytical side of his brain, the skills in reading body language and social interactions that he liked to think he’d honed through his career, had locked on to her expression, trying to read her. To figure her out.

She had run a gauntlet of emotions across her face in the span of less than a minute. Fear, concern, anger, defiance and something he hadn’t been able to pin down. A mystery element that snagged his attention. Then, as quickly as she’d shown up, she was gone. In her wake a taste of vulnerability that had intrigued him even more.

Who was she?

And why did he want to know?

“Was that Alyssa?”

Caleb spun around. He was surprised to see an older man dressed in a suit standing so close. Caleb hadn’t heard him walk up. Leave it to a beautiful woman to break his focus so quickly. Though, if he was being honest, that hadn’t happened in a long time.

It was Caleb’s turn to say “Excuse me?”

The man pointed to the doors. “The woman you were just talking to, was it Alyssa Garner?”

“I didn’t catch a name,” Caleb admitted.

“Oh, I thought you two knew each other. I saw you talking when I walked in.”

Caleb wondered why the man cared but still explained. “I asked if she was a family or friend of Slater’s, one of the gunmen from the robbery.”

It was like something was in the water in Carpenter, Alabama. As soon as the name left Caleb’s mouth, the man’s expression darkened. Unlike the woman, the man stayed on that emotion. If his skin had been lighter, Caleb would bet it would have been red from it. That was what rage did. Turned you raw. Caleb knew what that looked like—felt like too—and the man was suddenly waist-deep in it.

“You know, she had the same reaction,” Caleb had to point out. Again the cop side of his brain was piqued. He wished he’d done more research into the robbery other than reading the newspaper article the sheriff had given him. Then again, it wasn’t a necessity for him to research a case he wasn’t a part of. Especially since he’d get a recap from the future proceedings.

“You’ll find no love for that man in this town. Not after what they did. Not after what he did.” The man touched a spot on his chest. “You know, his partner, Anna Kim, shot me, and I still hate Dupree more.”

Caleb couldn’t stop his eyebrow from rising.

“You must be new to town,” the man guessed.

Caleb nodded and was given the man’s hand in return.

“I’m Robbie,” he said. “I was the security guard. A good lot of luck that did anybody. Less than a few seconds after they came in, I was down for the count. After I was shot they let me just lie there in my own blood, ignoring me as if I was some character in a video game or whatnot. They didn’t care if I lived or died. And I would’ve died had Alyssa there not been as crafty as she was.” He pointed at the courtroom doors.

“Crafty?”

“She hid her cell phone until one of the tellers could call 911 and then distracted the gunman on watch by coming to my aid.”

Robbie put his hand on his chest again and pushed.

“She kept me from bleeding out and got a front row view when the shooting started. She watched that...that man kill two people—two good people—in cold blood.”

“The paper said they died in the cross fire,” Caleb remembered.

Robbie looked disgusted.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” he said. “Dupree Slater is an evil sumbitch. Pure and simple. He wanted to kill us all and probably regrets he couldn’t get the job done.”

Caleb didn’t know what to say. In his career he’d seen what he thought of as pure evil. Slater, although Caleb knew he was in no way a good man, didn’t seem to fit his definition of it. He’d just been a man who’d robbed a bank and gotten in a shoot-out with the cops. He’d been a piss-poor shot and people had died because of it. If anything, his female partner had seemed like the worst of the two. It was common knowledge that the first thing she’d done was shoot the security guard in the chest, which apparently was the man standing in front of Caleb.

Maybe Robbie sensed Caleb’s thoughts.

“Not convinced he’s evil? You want to know something that they didn’t put in the paper? Something that was kept out to try to protect her privacy?” Robbie lowered his voice. A group of people could be seen milling outside the front glass double doors. The residents of Carpenter were downright punctual. Robbie waited until Caleb turned his gaze back to him. When he spoke, there was no denying his anger again. His rage. “When the shooting started, Alyssa Garner threw herself over me—someone who could have been dead any moment—to protect me. She could have run and tried to hide like the others, but no, she covered me up like she was indebted to me. Like I was a good friend or even family. And by some miracle she wasn’t hit in the process. But you want to know what happened after they surrendered?”

Caleb might not have known the woman named Alyssa past a minute ago, but he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer already.

Robbie nearly bit the words out. “Before anyone could stop him, Dupree Slater walked over to us and shot Alyssa right in the back.” He let that sink in. “Now, you tell me. What kind of man does that? What kind of man shoots an unarmed young woman who was just trying to save an old man like me in the back?”

“Not a good one,” Caleb answered. He was surprised at the anger growing in him. It wasn’t a good feeling. Not after what had happened back in Portland. He tried to distance himself from it, but then he pictured the woman who had stood before him only a few minutes beforehand.

Her light auburn hair had been pulled back, showing blue eyes, bright and clear and nice. They’d sized him up and then left him alone, traveling back to see what must have been the memory of Dupree Slater killing people before he’d tried to kill her too. He hadn’t been able to see if her smile lit up the rest of her expression. Dupree had stripped her of it simply by her recalling a memory.

Caleb now felt like he needed to apologize to her, which was absurd. He hadn’t known her name or what had happened when he asked about the bank robber.

Robbie, seemingly coming down off his emotional high, let out a long exhale. It dragged his body down. His expression softened. He gave Caleb a tired smile.

“You seem like a man who’s dealt with bad before,” he said, reaching out to pat Caleb on the shoulder.

The contact surprised and unsettled him. Another sentiment he wasn’t used to from the general public in Portland.

“But know that just because we’re a small community, it doesn’t mean we’re all good here either. There’s bad everywhere. Even in a small place like Carpenter.” The man gave another weak smile and then was gone.

Caleb went back to his job. He decided it best to keep his mouth shut as he manned the detector. Instead he tried to catalog everyone who walked into the courtroom with a new perspective. Now he felt a small connection to a case he hadn’t even bothered to research. It was irrational to feel involved, or, as his sister would say, maybe it was compassion attaching his thoughts to the woman named Alyssa. He’d never met her before and doubted he’d have a chance to talk to her ever again, but still he felt anger for what had happened to her. That feeling made him question every person who filed into the courtroom and his or her part in the robbery.

So when a man dressed in a suit wearing a pair of horn-rimmed glasses walked toward him and stopped just shy of the metal detector, Caleb was already trying to figure him out.

How did he fit into that day?

Had he been one of the hostages?

Had he known someone on the inside?

Or was he just there to gawk?

“Has it started yet?” the man asked, motioning to the closed doors.

Caleb shook his head. “Not yet.”

The man started to turn away.

“You aren’t going in?” Caleb asked after him, surprised.

“No, I’m only here to wait for a friend,” he said. “I’ll do that outside.”

The man smiled, adjusted his glasses and was out the front doors in a flash.

Caleb would later pinpoint that smile as the moment he knew something bad was about to happen. But in the present he would try to pretend everything was all right, dismissing the feeling in lieu of doing his job correctly. He’d already almost lost his career because he’d let himself get carried away once. Plus, like he’d told Robbie, he was new in town. That man, and his out-of-place smile, could have been one of the nicest locals he’d ever meet. Who was he to judge? Especially after what he’d done?

So he’d let his mind swim back to dry land and stood diligently at his post. This was just another job he had to do—and do well—to get back to where he should be. Back in Portland, away from small towns and their problems. Away from everyone knowing your name. Away from the humidity, droves of mosquitoes and copious amounts of sweet tea. He didn’t have time for distractions. He needed to focus on the end goal.

But then no sooner had he gotten the thought than the fire alarms started going off.

* * *

THE JUDGE WASN’T even in the room before Alyssa and the rest of the courtroom were being ushered outside.

Just when I was getting up my nerve, she thought in the middle of the group. Together they all created a blob of people talking loudly to one another, to the point where even her thoughts became muddled. She tried to look for someone in charge to ask them if it was a false alarm or if the fire was real but couldn’t see anyone other than her courtroom companions. At least there was a smiling one among them, looking right at her.

Robbie picked his way through the crowd to stop in front of her.

“It’s always something, isn’t it?” he greeted, motioning back to the building. The sirens screeched something awful. While Alyssa had been itching to get everything done with, she was at least thankful to be out of that noise. The beginnings of a tension headache were starting to swarm in the back of her head.

She snorted.

“We spent a year waiting for this day,” she said. “What’s a few more minutes?”

“Your optimism is always refreshing,” he said, knowing full well she’d been sarcastic.

She smiled up at him.

In the last year, she’d grown close to Robbie and his wife, Eleanor. She’d made sure they both knew that they owed her nothing in trying to protect Robbie at the bank. Mostly because she hadn’t done a thing to actually protect him. With or without her body covering his, he’d still almost died. But then they’d point out that if she hadn’t been where she was, Dupree might not have shot her.

“Nowhere in that bank was safe as long as Dupree and Anna were inside,” she had often countered.

They would quiet then, remembering Larissa and Carl had been shot too. And nowhere near where Robbie and Alyssa had been.

Still, Alyssa and the Rickmans had grown close through more than any sense of warranted or unwarranted life debt. Which made her feel more comfortable being candid around either of them. She lowered her voice and admitted something she wouldn’t have said otherwise.

“I’m a little glad I get a break from seeing Dupree, though. Between the newspapers, the local news channels and the occasional nightmare, I’m tired of seeing him.”

Robbie nodded.

“Even Eleanor can’t stand to turn the TV on lately. But, like I tell her, this is our last hurdle and then we’re done,” he said. He reached over and patted her arm. “After this we can all move on and live happy, full lives with a completely rational fear of banks for the rest of those happy, full lives.”

Alyssa gave him a smile for his attempt at humor and hoped that was true. Closure for her would be when the Storm Chasers landed behind bars for life, never to hurt her or anyone else ever again.

“Can I have everyone’s attention?”

They turned to none other than Judge Anderson, the judge for this case. Her robes moved in the stiff breeze as she descended the entrance stairs and came to a stop in front of the crowd. Another courtroom deputy, an older man Alyssa recognized but couldn’t recall his name, stood at her side. Alyssa wondered where the other man was. The golden-haired deputy with the muscled body in no way hiding beneath his uniform.

A little bit of heat started to swirl behind her cheeks at the thought of that muscled body. Why she never met men like him during the everyday routines of her life, she’d never know.

“I wanted to personally tell you all that we’ll be taking a recess until this afternoon at one o’clock,” she said, her voice carrying clear across the distance. “I am sorry for the inconvenience.”

A series of groans erupted through the crowd, followed by the clash of everyone talking at once. Alyssa was one of them.

“Speaking of hurdles,” she deadpanned.

Robbie let out a hoot of laughter.

“Why don’t we turn that frown upside down and take my beautiful wife out for some coffee and cake?” he said with a pat on her back. “Because I know she probably needs some caffeine considering how late she’s running anyways. My treat. What do you say?”

Alyssa felt her lips upturn in a smile.

“You had me at coffee,” she said, nodding. “But isn’t it a little too early for cake?”

Robbie laughed again. “According to my wife, there’s never a wrong time for cake.”

Chapter Four

Caleb was pacing. An action he actively tried to avoid doing.

For one, people who paced were not in control of their current situation. Hence the nervous movement edged with anxiety and uncertainty. His career—and his personality if he was being frank—had made his desire to be in control, well, desirable. So he wasn’t a fan of walking back and forth trying to burn anxious energy. Second, pacing usually meant someone was waiting for something to happen, and patience was also not Caleb’s strongest suit.

Yet here he was, moving back and forth just inside the entrance of the courthouse on repeat. Burning a hole in the lobby’s faded carpet.

It had been three hours since the fire alarm went off. Since there was no fire in the building, or even smoke, Caleb had put his bet on the culprit being a punk kid or a disgruntled attendee. Someone who wanted to break up their day with a little excitement. That is, until he’d seen the alarm that had been pulled.

Smashed beyond recognition. Obliterated. It had been a miracle the sirens had managed to keep blaring after the alarm had been pulled and then destroyed. They’d had to wait for the fire department to shut it all down. One firefighter had whistled low at the broken shell of the alarm and asked what was the point of pulling it and breaking it.

Caleb hadn’t had an answer. He’d officially gone on alert, a feeling of foreboding lying heavy in the pit of his stomach. Hours later, that heaviness hadn’t gone away. Not when deputies had come over from the sheriff’s department next door. Not when they had gone through the entire building, room by room, looking for anything suspicious. And not when the security footage hadn’t been helpful, thanks to a gap in the recording, which was due to poor funding.

“It happens sometimes,” the other deputy had said with a shrug. “The courthouse isn’t the only place in town waiting on funding to come through to get a better system.”

“Sounds like an excuse,” Caleb said beneath his breath. The deputy hadn’t heard him, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Again, he didn’t know how Carpenter, or Riker County, truly worked. He didn’t know their struggles or their points of pride. Jumping to conclusions about a broken fire alarm at an underfunded courthouse wasn’t something he needed to do. He certainly didn’t need to overstep his job description by trying to investigate a situation that probably wasn’t anything more than someone caught in the heat of the moment and deciding to break something.

At that thought, Caleb’s body went cold.

His hands balled into fists.

His thoughts turned tumultuous in a fraction of a second. Memories of what he’d done flew through his head.

“Foster! Stop! Dammit, Foster! STOP!”

But Caleb hadn’t stopped.

And now he was in Riker County because of it.

He began to pace again.

* * *

ALYSSA WAVED GOODBYE to Robbie and Eleanor. They drove away from the courthouse in Robbie’s little red pickup, both smiling as they disappeared down the street. Alyssa couldn’t help but smile too. There was nothing like spending a few hours at Danny’s—a local café with the best cake, according to Eleanor—with the couple to get her back into a good mood. Them laughing and smiling at each other had been contagious. Being with them always reminded Alyssa she was missing something they had been lucky enough to find. A partner. A best friend. Someone who would buy her morning cake without flinching.

Being that close to such a strong couple brought out a sense of peace in her too. Like the sight of calm waters after looking over the edge of your boat.

It had helped that, despite it being the day of the trial, they had sidestepped any talk of the Storm Chasers. It was a groove that had become familiar with them over the last year. A rhythm that had become second nature. They talked about happier topics, even mundane ones. Anything that filled the time.

But now Alyssa was back, staring at the front of the courthouse.

How she wished she could go inside, tell the jury what she’d seen and then watch as Dupree and Anna were led away in cuffs. Forever.

Alyssa let out a long sigh. She still had a few hours to go before she could get her wish.

“I might as well go soak in a bath,” she muttered to herself. If there was ever an answer to quell unwanted anxiety, a quiet, citrus-scented bath had to be at the top of the to-do list. She had started to walk around the building, mind already made up, when the sound of footsteps sounded behind her.

“Excuse me!”

Alyssa turned to see a man jogging toward her. He was brandishing a set of keys.

“You dropped these,” he explained, motioning to where she’d been standing when she was dropped off.

“Really?” Even though they were clearly hers—the wineglass pendant Gabby had given her was glinting in the sunlight—Alyssa still opened her purse to look inside and confirm they weren’t there. “Wow. I don’t know how I did that. I could’ve sworn they were buried in my purse.”

The man pushed his glasses up his nose. Alyssa mimicked the motion on reflex. Gabby always made fun of her for the “nerd” move, but when Alyssa was around her own glasses-wearing kind, she was happy for the little inclusion.

“You must have been thinking of other things,” he offered. “This Storm Chasers business has a lot of people around here distracted.”

Alyssa took her keys and tried on a polite smile. Though she didn’t like the way the man had said “here,” she agreed with him.

“Yes, it definitely has the attention of the entire community. It’ll be nice when it’s all over.” She jingled her keys, wanting to end the conversation. “Thank you for being less distracted than me.”

The man grinned.

“No problem,” he said. “Have a nice day.”

The way he said the last part, just like the word here, was so odd that it caught Alyssa a little off guard. She hesitated a few seconds too long. His smile wavered.

“Thanks again.” She tried to recover, heat exploding into her cheeks. She turned away and hurried to her car. When had she dropped her keys? And how?

She tried to mentally retrace her actions, and none of them included her opening her purse, let alone taking her keys out.

“Maybe I am way more stressed than I originally thought,” she mumbled, unlocking her door with the key fob. The day was hot and twinged with growing humidity. She held the unlock button down a few seconds longer. The front windows rolled down in response. She waited a moment, still trying to puzzle out the question of her keys leaving her possession, as a wave of heat poured out. It pressed against her skin with a maliciousness she’d come to expect from Alabama summers.

And here she was, about to go get into a hot bath. She sighed, wondering how that made sense, and tossed her purse into the passenger’s seat. She smoothed down the back of her pencil skirt and plopped down into the driver’s seat.

Click.

Alyssa paused, confused.

Click.

“What?” she muttered, trying to find the source of the noise. Last time she checked, her car had never clicked before. “I swear if it’s the AC crapping out...”

Alyssa didn’t have to look far. “Oh my God.”

* * *

CALEB’S PACING GAVE him a front row view of the woman named Alyssa Garner. He watched as Robbie and, presumably, his wife had dropped her off and then watched as she had started for the parking lot.

For a moment she had seemed happy, lighter than she had been that morning. Almost carefree. Her head was tilted up, lips in the same direction, and her shoulders were relaxed. At some point, wherever she’d gone, she’d even let her hair down. It cascaded over her shoulders and back, shining in the sun, more red than brown as it had looked inside. He wondered how she looked without her trendy black pair of frames on. Either way, he couldn’t deny that he found her attractive.

Alyssa seemed to be a quiet woman with an equally quiet beauty.

But Caleb now wondered if that was true...especially after what she’d done at the bank.

That anger that had startled him before began to rise in his chest again just thinking about the man Dupree Slater.

Caleb wondered if she had a scar from him.

Surprised again, he caught his thoughts before they became even darker.

He didn’t know Alyssa. At least not personally. He hadn’t even known she existed until that morning. He wasn’t close to her or, in fact, to anyone in Carpenter or Riker County. Having feelings for her like he was didn’t make sense. And wasn’t wanted.

You won’t be here long, he thought, resolute. Keep your head down, follow orders, and then you’re back home.

Caleb had started to turn away from the glass doors, giving Alyssa some privacy and his thoughts a firm shake away from her, when movement stilled his motion. A man ran up to her. He gave Alyssa something, but from Caleb’s angle he couldn’t see what it was. Or what the man looked like.

Could be a friend, he reasoned. Or a boyfriend.

No sooner had he thought that than he dismissed it. While he couldn’t see the man’s expression, he watched as Alyssa’s changed. Her brow furrowed and she frowned. Then she was smiling, but in a flash that smile fell away.

She was confused or unhappy. He couldn’t tell which, but it was enough to keep him watching as she left the man’s side and went to her car.

The man watched her go. He must have known her, Caleb thought. Why else would he just stand there watching?

Maybe he was admiring her too?

Either way, Caleb didn’t like it.

He left his post and stepped out into the heat. The humidity was suffocating. It amazed him that it still caught him off guard. And that people chose to live in it.

“Excuse me?” Caleb called out.

The man didn’t move.

Caleb’s gut started to talk.

And he didn’t like what it was trying to say.

“Hey,” he tried again, taking a few steps forward and giving the man the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he hadn’t heard him. “Hey, buddy!”

The man, now a few yards away, turned around. It was a slow, lazy movement. He didn’t seem surprised at a slightly agitated court deputy’s appearance, but the same couldn’t be said for Caleb.

“You.”

The man with the horn-rimmed glasses grinned. “Hello, Deputy. How can I help you?”

Caleb hung back at the bottom of the stairs. His gut was full-out yelling now. It prompted him to really look at the man.

Over six feet and thin, the man wore glasses, but they had the opposite effect that Alyssa’s had on her. Instead of giving the impression that he might be on the quiet side, they turned his sharp facial features and thinness into an overall look of aggression. The descriptor popped into Caleb’s head so fast he realized he’d already had the thought the first time he saw the man. It didn’t help that his body was seemingly speaking an entirely different language with how he was dressed—slacks, a dark red vest and dress shoes—and where he was.

He was comfortable and anxious. While he greeted Caleb with a grin, Caleb noticed one of his hands against his thighs, his fingers tapping out a rhythm. A nervous tic. An anxious activity like pacing but more controlled.

“What are you doing out here?” Caleb asked, acutely aware of the space between them. “Are you still waiting for your friend?”

The man’s grin widened.

“You’re good with faces,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d remember mine. But no, I’ve already seen my friend.” He glanced toward the parking lot and then back to Caleb. “I’m on my way now. Have a good day, Deputy.”

He didn’t wait for a response. Putting both hands in his pockets, he moved away from Caleb to the sidewalk in front of the courthouse. Caleb thought about following him and demanding his name at the very least, but then his gut was twisting again.

He turned back to the parking lot.

Something felt off.

Alyssa’s outline could be seen in her car in the middle of the visitors’ lot, but she hadn’t started it yet. Why she hadn’t at least turned the ignition just to get the AC going, Caleb didn’t know. Maybe Alabamians were made with more heat resistance than he was.

Still, the lot wasn’t in the shade and the sun wasn’t being kind. It beat down on the little Honda like it had been doing all morning.

The inside had to be hot as hell.

Caleb took a moment to debate whether or not he should check on her. Maybe she was having issues with her car. Or maybe the man with the glasses had said something that upset her. Maybe it wasn’t any of his business either way.

Caleb adjusted his belt and turned back toward the courthouse.

Keep your head low, he reminded himself. It isn’t your place.

Halfway up the stairs, his feet stalled.

No, it was going to be impossible to keep his head low when his gut was telling him to do otherwise.

* * *

IT WAS SO HOT.

Alyssa’s muscles were straining to not move while sweat began to roll down her skin without any such constraints. While the windows were down, no breeze moved throughout the car. Her only company was a stifling, unforgiving blanket of wet heat. It was turning her situation into more of a nightmare. The hammering of her heart hadn’t broken the silence, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t beating against her chest in terror.

Sure, there was a chance she was overreacting. Paranoia. But what if she wasn’t?

She tried to take in another deep breath to help tamp down her nerves.

It didn’t help.

Especially not when someone approached the open window.

“Excuse me?”

Alyssa let out a shriek and gave a small jump in her seat. It was enough movement to make her adrenaline surge higher.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said.

Alyssa allowed herself just enough movement to look at the stranger. Although he wasn’t just any man. The golden-haired deputy was staring back at her. She found his eyes, the perfect middle ground between golden and green, and felt genuine relief at his presence. However, she guessed her expression said something else entirely. His light brows drew together so quickly that she knew he knew something was wrong. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice ringing with authority.

Alyssa took a deep, wavering breath. “Have you seen the Lethal Weapon movies? You know, with Mel Gibson and Danny Glover as cops?” she asked.

The deputy raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Yeah...”

“Well, you know the one where Danny Glover’s character is sitting on the toilet?”

“Yeah, that’s the second movie,” he said. “When he realizes there’s a bomb strapped to it. Why?”

A chill ran up Alyssa’s spine at that four-letter word.

“Well, this is probably going to sound ridiculous,” she started, “but I think there’s a bomb under my seat.”

Chapter Five

The deputy squatted down on the other side of the door so that his gaze was level with hers. Under any other circumstances she probably would have been distracted by the proximity, but right now her mind kept going to what might or might not be beneath her seat.

“You’re going to have to elaborate on that one for me.”

Alyssa licked her lips. They were already drying out despite her lipstick.

“Okay, so when I sat down I heard something click,” she started. “I hadn’t turned the car on yet, so it confused me. Then I heard two more clicks and actually felt those coming from under me. Under my seat. And then I saw the light.”

“The light?”

Alyssa moved her head to try to motion to the floorboard. She still wasn’t about to move the rest of her body if she could help it. Her hands were on her lap, fused together with sweat and nerves. In the movie, once Danny Glover’s character had gotten off the toilet it had exploded. And she was not about to blow up in a Honda.

“I can see the reflection of a red light blinking on the floorboard,” she answered. “It’s faint but it’s there. And it hasn’t stopped blinking.”

The deputy didn’t ask for permission, not that she was going to begrudge him for the invasion anyway, and moved his head in through the window to look toward her feet. Alyssa caught a whiff of either shampoo or body wash that smelled intoxicating as he moved into her personal space. Some kind of musk and spice infusion. Something she definitely shouldn’t be distracted by at the moment.

“I know I could be overreacting, but I guess I’ve just seen so many movies and TV shows where clicks and flashing lights equals bombs,” she admitted. The fear that had tensed her every muscle was now starting to feel a little silly. “And if it isn’t a bomb, which it probably isn’t, I’ll just be mortified for life.”

The man pulled out of the space and back into a squat next to the door. His expression gave nothing away.

“Can I open your door?” he asked, voice even.

Silly thought or not, the request scared Alyssa.

“If there’s a bomb under your seat, opening the door shouldn’t trigger it,” he added.

“But if it does?” she couldn’t help asking. A drop of sweat rolled down the side of her face. It was so hot.

The deputy’s expression stayed neutral when he answered.

“Then, I promise you, we won’t know the difference.”

Alyssa felt her eyes widen.

“I don’t know if I’m happy with that logic.”

The man didn’t apologize for it.

“I won’t do it if you don’t want me to,” he said. “I just need to take a closer look.”

Alyssa chewed on her lip but nodded.

“What’s your name?” she tacked on. The man raised his eyebrow. “Just in case we do blow up.”

“Caleb Foster.”

“I’m Alyssa Garner,” she introduced. “I would shake your hand, but I’m terrified that if I move I’ll—Well, you know...”

Caleb flashed a smile. It didn’t last long.

“Then let me do the moving for now,” he said. Alyssa watched as his attention focused on the car door’s handle. Her muscles tensed further.

Please don’t let us blow up in my Honda.

But nothing went kaboom when the deputy opened the door wide.

Alyssa let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“Okay, well, if it’s a bomb it’s not connected to the door,” he pointed out. He moved closer to inspect the space between the seat and him. “I can’t see anything here.” He met her gaze. “I’m going to try to look under your seat now, okay?”

Alyssa nodded, even though she was already trying to do the logistics of that in her head. She was on the shorter side and had her seat closer to the dash because of it. Which meant Caleb Foster was about to get really close to her.

He dropped to his knees on the concrete, braced himself with one hand on the inside of the door and then very slowly hunched over so that his head was near the floorboard. Alyssa felt his breath against her bare legs as he moved between them to get a better view.

The most irrational fear that she’d missed a spot while shaving flitted through her head. When Caleb popped back up after only a few seconds, she wondered if she really had. His expression was the definition of neutral.

“So, was I being ridiculous?” she asked, hopeful.

But that ray-of-sunshine feeling lasted only an instant.

Deputy Foster pulled out his phone, but he took a moment to look directly into her eyes.

“I need you to keep doing what you’re doing a little longer, okay?” he said, tone calm.

“You want me to keep sitting still,” Alyssa spelled out, just to make sure they were on the same page.

Deputy Foster nodded.

Before she could stop it, her breathing went off the rails. It was one thing to think there was a bomb beneath your seat while also thinking you were being a bit insane. It was another for a man of the law to tell you to keep sitting perfectly still.

It was real now.

“So there is a bomb under my seat?” she asked around two short breaths.

“There’s something under your seat, yes,” he hedged.

“But is it a bomb?”

“I don’t know for sure, but—”

Alyssa sucked in a breath and had the deepest urge to grab the man by the collar of his shirt. “You answer me right now, Deputy Foster. Do you think there’s a bomb beneath my seat or not?”

He seemed surprised by her outburst, but who could blame her?

This time the deputy didn’t hedge.

“Yes,” he said. “I do. Which is why I need you to keep calm until we can deal with this. Okay?”

Despite his answer Alyssa decided to panic. Or, at least, her body did. The heavy air in the car, the heat of the day and the sheer thought of having survived a gunshot to the back only to be blown up in a parking lot were all too much to take. Her heartbeat wasn’t just galloping anymore—it was full-out trying to exceed the speed of light. Its pursuit was having a chain reaction on what was left of her calm. Her breathing was no longer erratic. It was rushed, clumsy and impossible to conquer. It was starting to make her vision blur.

The urge to swipe her glasses off and completely freak was escalating. She wanted to try to scramble out of the car and escape the heat and fear that were tripling at an alarming rate. If the deputy hadn’t been between Alyssa and the door, she might have attempted an escape plan.

But the deputy was there.

And his eyes were enough to hold her in place long enough for his words to reach her.

“Alyssa,” he said, moving as close to her as he could without making contact. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve handled a lot worse than this.” His lips quirked up into a grin. “All you have to do right now is sit still, okay? You think you can handle just sitting?”

The way he said the last part, like he was looking down on her for her worry, made something snap within her. Like he was the parent and she was a child who was being ridiculous. She took a deep breath, exhaled and took another one before she answered.

“Yes, Deputy,” she said with a little too much attitude. “I think I can handle it.”

Deputy Foster’s grin grew.

It made her feel better. If only for a moment.

“I’m going to take a few pictures and then I’m going to make a lot of calls,” he said.

“You aren’t going to leave, are you?” she asked, already panicked at the thought.

The deputy shook his head. “I want you to know one thing for certain, Miss Garner. I will not leave you.”

Alyssa hadn’t realized how good that promise would sound.

But, boy, did it sound good!

* * *

THIRTY MINUTES.

That was all it took for all hell to break loose.

True to his word, the deputy had made several phone calls after he snapped a picture of the maybe-but-probably bomb. He’d done it far enough from the car so that she couldn’t hear what was said—no doubt, his intention—but not far enough that Alyssa felt alone. Because, also true to his word, he didn’t leave her.

Not even when the bomb squad showed up and confirmed the maybe-but-probably bomb was in fact a probably-and-definitely bomb. Though the head of the squad, a towering man named Charlie, encouraged the deputy to clear the area while they assessed options.

Options.

That was a word that might have brought Alyssa a sense of hope, or even fear, if she wasn’t baking alive. The day had gone from hot to hell and she was stuck in a vacuum of it. She no longer had the energy to panic. All of that had left her body in waves of sweat, adhering every article of clothing she was wearing to her like a second skin.

And yet the deputy kept coming back.

Along with Charlie, who was now suited up with a helmet and clear mask in front of his face to boot. He lifted it to address Alyssa directly.

“Miss Garner, how are you doing?”

“I’m okay,” she lied.

Deputy Foster raised his eyebrow.

“Alyssa, how are you doing?” he repeated with a tone that reminded her of a parent. She managed a defeated sigh.

“I think I might pass out soon,” she admitted. “It’s getting really hard to breathe.”

If this alarmed the deputy, he didn’t show it. In fact, neither man did. Which meant she probably looked as bad as she felt and they had been expecting it. The cold water she’d had through a straw hadn’t been enough. Just like the fan that had been set up next to the car. It had only pushed the heat toward her. In no way did it alleviate the temperature she was currently suffering through.

“Then why don’t we get you out of here?” Charlie said.

“That would be nice,” she responded. Picturing a bathtub filled with ice cubes with her name on it. Forget about citrus bath salts.

A man she didn’t recognize walked up to the car and cleared his throat.

“Can I have a moment, sir?” he asked Charlie.

He nodded, flashed a quick smile to Alyssa and then walked off. Again, she couldn’t hear what was discussed, but the movement brought attention to the far end of the parking lot. It was being cleared. The staff from the courthouse, and even some people from the sheriff’s department next door, were moving farther away.

Alyssa looked back at Deputy Foster. She realized he was wearing a bomb vest. “So, do they think they can really get me out of here?”

The deputy followed her gaze to his vest. He straightened it and then lowered himself to meet her stare head-on.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he started. “I don’t know them personally, but the sheriff and Captain Jones both say Charlie and his team are the best in the South.” He cut another grin. “And they think they’re going to get you out of this with all limbs attached, so I’m going to bet on a yes.”

Alyssa gave the smallest of nods. Her vision was starting to blur a little. She tried to pull in a calming breath. The air was so wet she felt like she was drowning.

“Hey, listen to me,” he continued, tone tough. Stern. “When they get you out of here, how about I take you out for a nice jug of sweet tea? That’s something you guys seem to like around here, right? Sweet tea?”

Despite everything, Alyssa snorted.

“You must be from up north,” she muttered, each word strained.

She watched as his look of concern seemed to grow. Then, altogether, he began to blur.

“Alyssa,” he said, voice raised. “All you have to do is sit still. You got that?”

“I’m trying,” she defended. To her own ears she sounded breathless. And not in that sexy Scarlett O’Hara way.

Charlie swam back into view a few seconds later. His mask was down now. He turned to the deputy. “I guess if your captain and sheriff can’t make you leave, then I shouldn’t try either.”

The deputy shook his head. At least, that was what Alyssa thought he did. Either way, when Charlie was addressing her, Deputy Foster was still there.

It was comforting.

“Okay, Miss Garner, I’m going to very slowly try to replace your weight with this metal plate,” he said, already going into the back seat, the only way to reach the bomb. Which made her a little happier, considering she didn’t think her floorboard could accommodate the big man like it had the deputy. “When we’ve done that successfully, then Deputy Foster here will take you somewhere much cooler.”

“O-Okay.”

The world around her was becoming one giant blur. Alyssa wanted to watch what Charlie was doing. She wanted to ask questions. She wanted to tell Deputy Foster to go where it was safe. But the fact of the matter was, Alyssa was putting all the energy she had left into not passing out.

* * *

CALEB WAS SWEATING BULLETS.

He split his focus between Charlie trying to fool the bomb by thinking Alyssa was still sitting on top of it and the woman herself. Since the water and fan hadn’t worked, she’d spent almost forty-five minutes being drained, and now he wasn’t sure if she’d make it past another minute.

Her head was leaning back against the headrest, and her eyelids seemed to be fighting gravity. Caleb wanted to touch her, to remind her he was there, but he couldn’t. Not just because of the bomb. While he was starting to get an idea of her character, she still had no idea about his.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

“Okay. Here we go. Get ready to grab her,” Charlie commanded. “I think I’ve—What the hell?”

Alyssa must have really been out of it. She didn’t look alarmed in the slightest at the sharp tone the man trying to disarm the bomb beneath her took on.

But Caleb did. “What’s go—”

Click.

“Damn,” Charlie interrupted. “Grab her!”

Click. Click.

“Grab her now,” Charlie yelled again, struggling out of the back seat in his uniform.

Caleb didn’t have to be told a third time.

He threaded his arms beneath Alyssa’s legs and back and hoisted her out in one quick move.

Click.

Charlie was already yelling, “Now run!”

Caleb tucked Alyssa against his chest and ran faster than he’d ever run before.

“Eight seconds,” Charlie yelled out to anyone who could hear.

Like ants in the rain, everyone in front of or behind the blocked-off perimeter of the parking lot scurried this way and that, trying to get as far away as they could. The crowd that had formed was yelling while deputies and bomb squad alike were barking orders to each other and bystanders.

Two members of the squad in particular stood out. Instead of running away from the car, they were running toward Caleb, Alyssa and Charlie with two dark blankets. When the five of them finally collided, Charlie yelled to hit the ground.

Caleb dove onto his side so he would take the brunt of the fall, and then just as quickly rolled over to cover the woman in his arms. The bomb squad men positioned themselves on either side of Charlie and Caleb and threw the blankets—which Caleb now realized were bomb blankets, made from layers of Kevlar—over each of them.

Caleb felt like he was being pulled every which way in the moments that followed. What-ifs sprang up in his mind like flowers in the spring—What if they hadn’t cleared the blast area? What if the bomb blanket didn’t help them? What if he never got to take Alyssa out for that drink of sweet tea he’d offered?—while his body seemed to be running on instinct. It created a cage around the woman, trying to make itself as big as possible to protect her at all costs. But then another part of him, one he didn’t know where it was coming from, was looking down at her face—slack from the unconsciousness she finally had given in to—and thinking how beautiful she was. But then everyone was yelling and he remembered to fear what was about to happen.

Not for himself, but for Alyssa.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.