Chapter 19
Kade
Hunt and I review evidence and plan our next steps for over an hour.
After checking the time, I stand. “Better Bree hears about the warrant in person.” Besides, I have a little groveling to do. I could’ve handled last night a whole lot better.
My friend glances at me askew. “If what you’ve said about her is true, she’ll be safer behind bars while we search.”
Before I can make my escape, my office phone rings. Seconds later, my assistant calls out, “Sheriff, this guy needs to talk to you. Says it’s important.”
Of course he does. “Who is it?”
She snaps her gum. “I don’t know. I’ll transfer him to your cell phone.”
“Right.” The minute this case is over, I’m signing her up for some basic classes in professionalism.
Until then, I stomp to my desk, push her feet off the top, and take the offered receiver. “Kade here.”
“Thank God, I caught you. This is Pol, Briana’s brother. I just dropped her off near the trail—the gravel lot? She bought a week’s worth of supplies—camping gear—says she’s going to find the killer.”
My heart pounds as I race to my truck. “You didn’t stop her? What kind of brother are you?”
“This is your fault.” Despite my shouting, he remains calm. “If you didn’t want her to bolt, you should’ve kept your windows shut.”
“Fuck!” I jerk my Ford into gear, snap the bulb to the roof.
As I tear out of the parking lot, his tone softens. “Listen. Nothing I said or did would’ve changed her mind. If you don’t mind me saying, she’s doing the right thing. She didn’t kill Brett. You should be out looking for the real killer.”
I think back to our pillow talk. Dark ages? More like keeping me in the dark. “Did your sister ask you to call me?”
“No, but she had to know I would.”
“Of all the manipulative—”
“Stop right there. If she’d asked you to go with her, would you have?”
Knuckles white, I swerve onto the highway. “Hell no. I would’ve stopped her. We have Federal agents on the way—professionals with all the resources needed to find this madman. She’ll either force him to hide or be his next victim. I’ll call you as soon as I find her.”
Tossing my phone on the seat, I pick up my dog along with something for her to smell. As I speed up the mountain, I ream myself a new asshole. I’m a fool. Hoping to distract me, she’d seduced me. What kind of woman walks straight into hell after barely escaping it the first time?
At the foot of the trail, I send up my drone. Finding nothing but a herd of deer, I widen the search.
Bingo. There she is.
Not far behind? A man with a rifle.
Dammit. Adrenaline spikes my pulse as I shove the t-shirt Briana wore last night under Becca’s nose. “Find her, girl.”
“Woof.” While her tail disappears, I shrug my pack and rifle over my shoulder, racing up the mountain path. All the while I pray Becca reaches her before the stalker.
Running full out, I replay our night together. “Living in the dark ages,” she’d said.
My fists clench. She has no idea the shit I’ve endured—years of war, the guilt, the blood. The betrayal by my own family. Who is she to judge me?
Then Gran’s voice pipes up in my head. “You made love to the woman, got angry when she stood up to you, then left like a toddler. You should be ashamed of yourself. You were raised better than that.”
If she’s going to haunt me, I give her hell right back. “You said you’d leave your house to me.”
“And leave your niece homeless?”
“It wasn’t my fault she married an asshole. It was his job to provide for them.”
“But he didn’t.”
“I’m not living in the dark ages.”
After the voices in my head fall silent, I push hard until my legs burn. No more ghosts, just breath and motion.
Picturing Brett Johnson in his shallow grave, I shudder. If I don’t reach Briana in time, she might be next.
And it’ll be on me.
Dammit. Fuck her for putting me in this position.
“Woof-woof-woof.” Becca’s excited bark can mean only one thing.
Thank God, she’s found her.
At the crest of the ridge, she swivels toward me, pistol braced, finger on the trigger.
“Whoa now.” As my hands shoot into the air, Becca growls, uncertain.
Was I wrong about her? Is this my last breath?
“Holy crap.” A gasp escapes her. “Never sneak up on an armed woman. I could’ve shot you.”
Despite the fury churning in my gut, I close the distance, pull her into a hard embrace, and swallow the knot in my throat. A second. That’s all I need to breathe before I tear into her.
Over my head, the drone’s buzz slices through the moment. Somewhere out there, a killer’s still stalking these woods. Head in the game, I flip open my control app.
Nothing.
Becca must’ve scared him off.
“Good job, girl.” Kneeling, I scratch behind her ears.
She rewards me with a slobbery face wash, then lets out a low whine, sensing the thick tension in the air.
Rising slowly, I rake a hand across my beard, working to tamp down the fire under my skin. No white knight here. And she sure as hell isn’t a princess. Dark ages, my ass.
“Did you know someone was following you?”
Hands on her hips, she juts out her chin. “Of course I did. You scared him off—ruined everything.”
Jesus, she was using herself as bait? For a second, words fail me—but not her.
“So, what now? You going to arrest me? Bring me back to your FBI buddy? Is that why you fucked me? To keep me close? I can’t believe I trusted you.”
The barbs connect, sharper than the pine needle in my sock. I’ll deal with that pain later. Right now, I need to talk some sense into her. “Help me understand. Did you think the guy who shot your ex was going to walk up, introduce himself, then let you shoot him?”
She huffs, rolling her eyes to a patch of blue sky peeking through the maple canopy.
“Of course not. Jeesh. But unlike you, I wasn’t about to let him hunt some other unsuspecting hiker—someone who can’t defend herself.
He’s a serial. I know it. He was too methodical, too good at tracking.
Also, he kept mumbling the same thing over and over. The guy’s unhinged.”
A woodpecker hammers in the distance, each knock, adding to my throbbing headache. Voice tight, volume low, I glare. “You’re done. Either come with me now, or I put you under arrest.”
“Fine. When he kills someone else, it’s on you, bub.” If not for the seriousness of the situation, I’d take her over my knee and spank her.
“Let the law do its job.”
“Neanderthal.”
“If we’re done name-calling, move it. I’ll follow. Oh yeah—while we’re at it? I’ll relieve you of your weapon.”
She stares at my palm, jaw tight, like she’s winding up to argue.
“Don’t even think about it.” Brows furrowed, I shoot her my most intimidating stare.
“Fine.” She slaps the pistol into my hand.
While she mutters under her breath, totally unfazed, Becca trots ahead, tail wagging—another beautiful day in the neighborhood.