Chapter 29
The scream cut through the fog like broken glass.
Gabe was already moving—out of the truck, weapon drawn, running toward a sound he couldn't pinpoint. He'd pulled into the hardware store lot thirty seconds ago on instinct, spotted Cara's Subaru next to a rental sedan, felt that familiar prickle at the back of his neck.
He should have trusted it faster.
Somewhere ahead, muffled by the gray wall pressing in from all sides, he heard struggling. A choked gasp. Then a man's voice—urgent, commanding.
"CARA!"
Not the attacker. Someone else. Someone trying to help.
Gabe ran harder, blind in the fog, following sounds that twisted and scattered in the damp air. Every second felt like a minute. Every stride covered too little ground.
He burst through a wall of fog and found them.
A man on top of Cara. Hands around her throat. But she was fighting—clawing at his face, twisting beneath him. She'd created space somehow, enough to gasp for air.
"Police! Get off her! Now!"
The man's head snapped up. Wild eyes. Dark hair.
Recognition punched Gabe in the gut. The same face on their suspect’s driver’s license photo. Michael Thorne.
Footsteps pounded from the other direction. Wade emerged from the fog at a dead sprint, weapon drawn.
Thorne saw two men converging. For one frozen moment, his eyes darted between them—calculating, desperate. Then he released Cara and bolted, disappearing into the fog.
Wade didn't hesitate. He veered after Thorne, vanishing into the darkness.
Gabe holstered his weapon and dropped to his knees beside Cara.
"Cara. Cara, can you hear me?"
She was gasping, choking, her hands at her throat. Red marks already darkening on her skin. But her eyes were open. She was breathing.
"You're okay," he said, not sure if he was telling her or himself. "You're going to be okay."
He helped her into a sitting position, keeping one hand on her shoulder to steady her. "I'm calling this in."
He keyed his radio, reported the attack, requested backup and an ambulance. Dispatch confirmed units were enroute.
Cara's hand found his arm, gripping hard. Her voice came out raw, barely a whisper. "Gabe..."
"Don't talk. Your throat—"
"Who was that?" She forced the words out. "I couldn't see— he came from behind—"
But Gabe had seen his face. That split second when Thorne had looked up, wild-eyed and desperate.
"Michael Thorne," he said quietly. "The man from the inn. The one who cut Blaire's brake lines."
Cara's eyes widened. "But why would he attack me?"
Before Gabe could answer, Wade materialized out of the fog, breathing hard.
"Lost him. He had a car waiting on the next block." Wade crouched beside Cara, his face tight. "You okay?"
She nodded, then winced. "Your shout," she rasped. "That's what— he looked up for a second. Gave me an opening."
Wade's jaw flexed. "Should've been faster. Should've seen him sooner."
"You saw him in time." Gabe met Wade's eyes. "She's alive because you did."
A beat of silence passed between them. Two men who understood that sometimes the margin between life and death was measured in seconds.
"The fog," Wade said. Not an excuse. Just acknowledgment.
Gabe nodded. "What happened? Why was she out here?"
Cara and Wade exchanged a glance. That silent communication that told Gabe more than words ever could.
"Blaire," Cara rasped. "She wanted to meet. She thought I was behind the attack on her system."
"What attack on her system?"
Another glance between them.
"Someone destroyed her files tonight," Wade said carefully. "She assumed it was Cara."
It wasn't Cara. Gabe could see that much. But it was someone connected to her. Someone with the technical skills to destroy a sophisticated system.
Tom Nakamura.
He didn't say it. Didn't need to. The picture was coming into focus whether he wanted it to or not.
"So Blaire called this meeting," Gabe said slowly.
"This guy, Thorne, must have followed Blaire here." Wade's jaw tightened. "Saw his chance when she left."
"But he attacked Cara, not Blaire."
Silence.
Cara's voice came out barely above a whisper. "I think he thought I was her."
Gabe stared at her. "What?"
"It’s dark. Foggy. I had my hood up." Cara touched her throat, wincing. "He came from behind. Never saw my face until..."
Thorne had been trying to kill Blaire. Had attacked the wrong woman in the fog.
The implications crashed over Gabe. Thorne wasn't hired muscle. He wasn't working for Blaire. He was trying to kill her.
"He's the one you think cut her brakes," Wade said.
"Probably." Gabe stood, scanning the fog.
Wade completed his own scan, then kicked a rock across the lot. “Not hard to guess why.”
“Right?” Gabe gripped the back of his neck and squeezed hard. “Except Thorne attacked the wrong woman.”
“We can hope,” Cara whispered.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
"You should go," Gabe told Wade quietly.
Wade's eyes narrowed. "I'm not leaving her."
"I've got her. And you don't want to be here when the other units arrive." Gabe held his gaze. "Too many questions you can't answer."
Wade looked at Cara. She nodded.
"I'll be at Tom's," Wade said. "Call when you're done."
He melted into the fog, gone before the first patrol car turned into the lot.
Gabe helped Cara to her feet as red and blue lights painted the fog. She leaned against him, trembling, and he let her.
"You'll have to give a statement," he said.
"I know."
"You can leave out whatever you need to." He waited until she looked at him. "But Cara—I need to know details. Not tonight. But soon."
Her eyes glistened. "Gabe..."
"I'm not asking you to trust me with everything. I know there are things you can't tell me." He touched her face gently, avoiding the bruises forming on her throat. "But someone just tried to kill you. I can't protect you if I don't understand what I'm protecting you from."
She was quiet as the patrol cars pulled in, officers emerging, flashlights cutting through the fog.
"Tomorrow," she whispered. "I'll tell you what I can."
It wasn't everything. It wasn't close to everything.
But it was a start.