Chapter 1
DEADLY REUNION
Chapter One
Bryn Sinclair unlocked the back door to her house and stepped across the threshold, exhaustion from the long day of dealing with law enforcement over her missing boss weighing heavily on her shoulders. She frowned when she caught a whiff of a strange scent.
Someone was inside!
She froze, straining to listen. With her heart thudding painfully against her sternum, she took a silent step back.
The door had been locked, so she wasn’t sure how the intruder had gotten in.
Holding her breath, she took another step back, hoping and praying whoever was inside didn’t know she’d come home.
A crack of gunfire split the night air.
Bryn whirled and ran, ducking her head to make herself a smaller target.
Her purse thudded against her side. She gathered it close and continued to run.
More gunfire rang out, but she didn’t slow her pace.
Fearing she’d be shot at any second, she ran with all the strength she could muster, heading toward the wooded area behind her house.
Her car was in the detached garage, and she didn’t think there was time to use her vehicle to escape.
Instead, she hoped the gunman wouldn’t be familiar with the area the way she was.
After everything that had happened earlier that day, she numbly realized she should have anticipated this.
But she hadn’t. And now that lapse in judgment might get her killed.
With a frantic burst of speed, she reached the wooded section of Chicory Park. Due to the April time change, it was still too light for her peace of mind. Dusk had fallen, but she was afraid the gunmen would be able to see her red quilted jacket through the trees.
Who was shooting at her? This had to be related to Damien Rochester’s disappearance. Her life was normally boring. Routine. As exciting as sliced bread.
Until today when the police had come looking for her absent boss.
Bryn made her way deeper into the park preserve, avoiding the marshlands.
She didn’t hear anything that indicated the gunman had followed her.
She stopped beside a tree, leaning weakly against the trunk as she caught her breath.
She lived in a small residential area north of Madison, Wisconsin.
She’d moved there from St. Louis when she’d gotten the job offer to work for Damien Rochester as his personal assistant.
Now, she wished she’d have stayed in Missouri.
What was left of the evening light faded away, cloaking her in darkness.
Grateful for the coverage, she pushed away from the tree and made her way through to the opposite side of the park.
Bryn stepped carefully, feeling the spongy marshland give beneath her feet, her low-heeled flats getting damp from the water.
She sought higher ground. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck out there.
She knew the Yahara River snaked through the park toward Lake Mendota.
Madison was not only the Wisconsin state capital, but it was flanked by two large lakes, making it a great place to live and work.
If your boss wasn’t Damien Rochester, she thought darkly. Where was he anyway? She couldn’t imagine he was the one who’d been in her house, shooting at her. It wasn’t as if he’d have a reason to silence her.
Her left foot sank into the muck. With a grimace, she yanked free and changed her course.
Again. After what seemed like an eon, she caught a glimpse of light.
Winding through the trees, she used the light as a beacon.
When she broke free of the woods, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the sign was for O’Brien’s Pub.
“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered, quickening her pace to reach the building. Bryn needed help, fast. And not just from her Divine Savior.
Her friends were all coworkers. Calling Gwen, Sam, Tabitha, or one of the others wasn’t an option. Not after everything that had gone down earlier today. No, there was only one person here on earth she could trust. Micah Newton, her older brother’s best friend.
Tommy was gone, killed during the army troops’ withdrawal from Afghanistan. She hadn’t seen Micah since Tommy’s funeral five years ago.
Yet she knew that if she called, Micah would answer. Out of a sense of duty toward her brother, if nothing else.
Bryn swiftly walked into the pub, taking a moment to look around before heading toward an empty table in the corner.
By some miracle, she hadn’t lost her purse, so she quickly rummaged inside for her phone.
Ignoring her trembling fingers, she scrolled through her contact list until she found Micah. A server approached with a menu.
“Thanks.” Bryn took the menu. “I’ll need a little time before I order.” Bryn wasn’t sure staying in the pub was smart. If the gunman was still out there looking for her, this place might be too obvious. What if he walked in through the front door? The thought made her shiver.
“Would you like anything to drink?” the server asked.
“Not yet.” Bryn pressed Micah’s name on the screen and held the phone to her ear. The pub was loud, so she stuck her finger in her other ear to hear better. Micah, bless him, answered on the first ring.
“Bryn? Are you okay?” Micah’s voice held concern, no doubt because she hadn’t called him despite his offer to get together after Tommy’s funeral.
“Not really. I—something’s going on. My boss disappeared, and the police questioned me at length. Then there was someone waiting for me at my house when I got home. He fired shots at me, so I ran.”
“Fired shots?” Micah’s voice rose in alarm. “Where are you now?”
“At O’Brien’s Pub north of Madison.” She swallowed hard. “Micah? I’m scared. The pub isn’t far from my place. What if the gunman comes after me?”
“Call the police.” Micah’s voice was firm. “Let them know what happened. I’ll make my way to Madison, but I’m in Chicago. It’s going to take a while.”
Her heart sank. Chicago was a good two-hour drive or more from where she was. Yet she belatedly realized she should have thought of calling the police. That’s what a normal person would do.
The problem was that she’d just spent hours being grilled by the police who seemed to think she knew more than she did about Damien’s disappearance.
By the time she was two hours into the interview, she’d realized the police considered her a suspect.
They believed she knew exactly where Damien was hiding. Her denial fell on deaf ears.
Tears pricked her eyes. Would calling the police about the shooting at her home help her case or make her situation worse?
Bryn wasn’t sure. Either way, staying put wasn’t an option.
Sliding off the barstool, she hurried back outside.
She turned away from the parking lot and walked toward the side of the building that was farthest from the road.
“Micah, there’s something going on. I can’t explain now, it’s too complicated, but I don’t want to call the police. I need to get out of here, but my car is back at my house.”
“Don’t go home.” Micah’s blunt statement sounded like an order. “Can you get to the airport in Madison? I can arrange for a rental car to be waiting there for you.”
Glancing around, she tried to ignore the feeling she was being watched.
She went around to the back of the building, wrinkling her nose at the awful stench from the dumpster.
Was the gunman still out there? Or was she just being paranoid?
Gathering her scattered thoughts, she forced herself to answer.
“Yes. I can get a rideshare to the airport.”
There was a brief pause. “Is it too far for you to walk?”
“I ran into Chicory Park and headed in the opposite direction from the airport.” She had no idea how far she’d gone. “I’m wearing stupid shoes, which makes it difficult to walk long distances. Besides, I feel exposed out here.”
“Okay, then take a rideshare,” Micah said. “I’ll make sure the car is waiting. I want you to head south toward me. We’ll meet someplace halfway, okay?”
“I understand.” She hunched her shoulders against the cold. Her feet were wet and sore from running. Her flat-soled office shoes were not meant for hiking. “But, Micah? Please hurry. I’m scared.”
“I’ll be there as quickly as possible. And don’t be scared.” His voice gentled. “If you need to talk, call me back.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She felt slightly better when she lowered the phone and pulled up a rideshare app.
She arranged for a ride that was only five minutes away.
Watching the progress of the driver approach the pub on her phone screen, she waited until the car appeared to be pulling into the parking lot before leaving the safety of the building.
The rideshare driver was behind the wheel of a silver sedan. Sprinting across the parking lot, she wrenched the back door open and slid inside. “Horacio?” she asked as she eyed the driver, matching his face with the one on her screen.
“Yes, are you Bryn Sinclair?” The Hispanic driver’s brown eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “You’re going to the airport?”
“Yes, please. Thanks.” She wanted to scream at him to hurry as he slowly turned around in the parking lot and headed back out onto the road.
After clicking her seatbelt into place, she turned to look behind them, half expecting more gunfire.
But there was nothing but silence.
She tried to relax as Horacio drove toward the airport. She’d only been to the airport a handful of times, but that was only to pick up Damien after his trips. She’d always stayed out in the car, never going inside. She had no idea where the rental car counters were located.
Damien. Just thinking of him made her blood boil. If her boss was guilty of embezzling money from the company, she hoped and prayed that he’d be found and arrested very soon.
* * *