Chapter 12
TWELVE
Tate’s hand throbbed with every beat of his heart, and he had to clench his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering by the time they arrived at the main lodge.
The storm had started up again, rain battering against the tin roof of the carport as he got out of the driver’s seat.
His legs buckled. Tate’s hands shot out to grab the UTV before he went down.
The gash on his hand screamed at the sudden movement. He saw stars.
“Lean on me.” Annie ducked under his arm, wrapping it around her shoulders. Her clothes and skin were covered in soot. Sparks from the fire had burned holes in her jacket, and the stuffing poked out.
“I’m okay.” Tate tried to shake off her assistance, but she wouldn’t be deterred.
Pain shot through his side. He was pretty sure he had a few bruised ribs, thanks to his tussle with the attacker.
It hurt to breathe and even more to move.
Still, Annie had fought her way through a blazing fire.
Chances were she had some injuries too. He wouldn’t make things worse by having her take care of him.
“Don’t be pig-headed.” Annie scowled, gripping his wrist to keep his arm wrapped around her shoulders. “If you accept my help, we can hurry and get inside where it’s warm. Or maybe I should just leave you here? Let you fall flat on your face and then freeze to death so you can keep your pride?”
“Pretty sure my pride was left back in the cabin.” His mouth quirked. “But you went to so much trouble to save me, I guess it’s rude to kick the bucket now.”
“You got that right.” Her scowl softened into a gorgeous smile.
Suddenly, Tate was breathless for a completely different reason.
Gratitude filled him. He shouldn’t have been surprised by her bravery.
Annie had always done what was right, no matter the cost to herself.
Still…after everything he’d put her through… His throat tightened. “Thank you.”
“Keep your thanks. I owed you one.”
“Ah. So that’s why you recklessly ran into a burning cabin.” Her face was a hair’s breadth away from his. Tate’s gaze held hers, and his heart stuttered at the look in those emerald eyes. “To repay a debt.”
“Absolutely.” But the word came out in a whisper, her breath caressing his lips.
Neither of them moved, both caught in a gravitational pull that refused to let go. Logically, Tate knew he should back away. Their friendship wasn’t on stable ground, and he needed to prove his trustworthiness.
Then she closed the distance between them, taking the decision out of his hands.
Her mouth, soft and sweet, brushed against his.
Every thought in his head scattered. Using his uninjured hand, he cupped her face tenderly.
Her skin was chilled from the rain, impossibly soft beneath his calloused fingers, and she leaned into his palm as if she’d done it a thousand times. Like she’d been waiting to.
Twenty years. Twenty years of wondering, of regret, of imagining the road not taken.
The reality of her undid every version he’d ever dreamed up.
The kiss was gentle. Unhurried. A question and its answer in the same breath.
She tasted of smoke and rain, and emotions he’d locked away came loose all at once.
He cared for her. Maybe even loved her.
And he’d never stopped.
Annie broke the kiss first. Her eyes flew open, and Tate watched the exact moment reality caught up with her—the softness fracturing into something like panic.
“That was—” Her voice cracked. “I shouldn’t have.”
“Annie.” It hurt to see the regret in her expression.
But she was already turning toward the lodge. “We need to get you inside. You’re bleeding and freezing and—” She dragged in a breath, squared her shoulders, and when she faced him again, her expression was shuttered. “Lean on me.”
He did as she ordered, flattening his lips to keep all the words he wanted to say inside. She wouldn’t hear his assurances. Wouldn’t believe them.
And that was his fault.
The side door to the main lodge banged open before they reached it.
Brooke stood in the doorway, her expression filled with concern.
“I heard about the fire on the radio. Thank God you’re both okay.
” She ushered them into the warmth. “I radioed Evan. He was on the far side of the property, still searching for Caleb. He’s heading back now, but I’ll tell him to double-time it. ”
“Good.” Annie pushed open the door off the hallway. “Tate needs medical attention.”
“We both do,” Tate corrected. Evan was a paramedic, something Tate had learned last night over s’mores. “But it can wait. The priority has to be finding Caleb.”
Brooke continued down the hallway, already lifting the radio to her mouth as if Tate hadn’t spoken.
Annie steered Tate into the infirmary and directed him to a chair. “Caleb is safe and sound, here in the main lodge. He came back after you left.”
Relief hit him hard. Tate collapsed in the seat, wincing as pain lanced through his side. He needed to move more slowly. “Where was he?”
Annie scrubbed her hands in the sink before opening a cabinet, removing saline and gauze. “Someone pretending to be me texted him, asking to meet in the stables to discuss Kayla’s murder. He was waiting there for an hour.”
Tate stiffened. He’d known the attack in the cabin was well-planned, but the text to Caleb proved how far ahead the killer was thinking. “He lured Caleb away, so I’d go looking for him.”
“That’s my read too.” Annie pulled a rolling stool next to his chair and took his injured hand in hers. Her touch was gentle, and although it wasn’t meant to be romantic, it took everything inside him not to close his fingers around hers. The air felt charged.
Once again, Tate was tempted to say something, but it was clear from Annie’s face that she wasn’t ready to discuss it. Instead, she focused on his removing the towel covering his wound and asked, “What happened in the cabin?”
Right. Better to focus on the threats. Tate described the assault, starting with the stun gun and ending with being barricaded in the bathroom. “He opened the gas line to start the fire.”
“That explains why the kitchen was gone.” Annie cleaned his wound with saline. “The back door to the cabin was barred. Your attacker did his best to make sure you wouldn’t get out.”
“That we wouldn’t get out.” The realization of the danger Annie had put herself in hit him anew.
“He must’ve seen you go into the cabin to rescue me.
He waited until we tried to escape before taking shots at us.
” Tate’s stomach roiled with anger and frustration.
“He probably used my gun. Took it off me before I could stop him. But whoever this guy is, he prefers a knife. The fire and shooting at us were backup plans, designed to finish what he’d started. ”
“But why?” She frowned. “Why kill Kayla and then try to kill you? Or me?”
Tate placed a hand on her arm, stilling her movements. When her eyes lifted to his, he said gently, “This is about Seth, Annie. The killer wants revenge for what happened to him.”
Her complexion paled under the soot, and she sank into the chair next to him. Tate didn’t release his hold on her arm. A tremor ran through her under his palm. She swallowed hard. “What…how…?”
“I received a fake text, just like Caleb did, except the sender was Seth. It said that I should’ve protected him, but didn’t.
That I deserve to pay for what happened.
” His voice came out flat, a contradiction to the emotions churning through him.
Memories crowded in, unbidden. Seth arriving with Kayla on his arm.
Preston’s sneer of jealousy. Shocked gasps as Preston announced that Seth’s father was a criminal.
The devastation on Seth’s face, followed by embarrassment-fueled rage.
Tate wasn’t sure who threw the first punch, but the fight turned vicious fast. Seth had taken several blows to the head, including one with a thick branch Preston had grabbed during the scuffle. It’d taken four of them to break it up.
Seth, humiliated and bleeding, ran into the woods. Annie went after him.
Tate followed.
That decision had caused their own argument, Annie’s anger over his behavior at the prom raw and justifiable. Her look of disgust had never left him, nor had her harsh words. Don’t pretend you care. You’re just like them.
He’d never felt so small. So…exposed.
Because she was right. He was just like them.
Annie had taken off again, searching for Seth. Tate kept his distance behind her, but it was too late.
Their friend was gone.
Guilt and anguish tore at him. Tate forced the memory away. Focusing on his past mistakes wouldn’t help. Right now, his job was protecting Annie and the others from a killer. For that, he needed to think like an investigator. “Who in our group was close enough to Seth to avenge his death?”
Annie blinked. “No one. At least…not enough to commit murder.” She frowned. “Wait. How can we be sure this is connected to Seth? Caleb also received a spoofed message, and we have no idea if Kayla received anything before she was murdered. What if the killer sent the text to distract you?”
Tate considered her argument. “It’s possible. We should ask everyone here about the
spoofed messages. Others may have gotten them, but not followed the instructions.”
“You’re right.”
Worry pulled at her mouth, and Tate gently squeezed her arm. “We’re going to figure this out, Annie. I promise.”
Evan entered at a jog, slightly out of breath, his hair tousled, the legs of his pants damp from the rain.
Brooke followed her husband. She carried a tray laden with mugs and a plate of biscuits.
Both stopped at the same moment, and two looks crossed their faces.
Irritation on Evan’s, and surprise on Brooke’s.
Tate was confused until he realized he and Annie were practically nose to nose, his hand still on her arm.
Tate released Annie. She rose from the chair. Her cheeks were stained with color, and maybe it was Tate’s imagination, but Annie wouldn’t meet Evan’s gaze as she spoke. “I cleaned Tate’s wound, but I think it needs stitches.” She turned to Brooke. “You brought coffee. Bless you.”
Her best friend smiled and handed her a mug. “Actually, it’s tea to calm your nerves.”
Annie’s nose wrinkled. “Ugh. I hate tea.”
“I added enough honey it’s practically a dessert, so it should be palatable.
Besides, it’s good for your throat.” Brooke handed one to Tate.
Her dark eyes held an assessment that had nothing to do with the beverage.
“I didn’t know how you like your tea, so I only added a normal person’s amount of honey. ”
He laughed. “That works.”
Evan claimed the rolling stool and examined Tate’s wound. As Annie predicted, it needed stitches. Brooke peppered Annie with questions about the attacks, with Evan jumping in now and then. Both of them fell silent when they learned about the text to Tate.
Brooke’s hand went to her throat. “Is that why Kayla was murdered?”
“We don’t know yet.” Tate hissed as Evan jabbed him with a needle, injecting lidocaine to numb his hand. “Have either of you received a weird text message? Someone asking you to do something strange, like what happened to Caleb?”
Evan stilled. “Maybe…” He checked his phone.
“I heard on the radio that Caleb had come back to the main lodge, but then Dwayne sent me a text saying it was a mistake. He asked me to check the far side of the property. That’s why it took me so long to get back here.
” Evan turned the phone toward them. “But the message is in the same thread as the rest of our texts. Doesn’t that mean it’s from him? ”
“No.” Tate studied the text chain. “Spoofing services can fake the exact number. Your phone matches the number to your contact and files it in the thread — name, picture, everything. There’s no way to tell it apart from the real thing.”
Annie set down her tea. “This doesn’t make sense. Sending a message to Caleb, asking him to meet us in the stables, works if the killer was hoping to isolate you, Tate. But why send Evan to the far side of the property?”
Tate knew. In his gut, he just knew. “To get him alone.”
Brooke inhaled sharply.
“He’s separating us,” Tate continued. There was no point in sugarcoating things.
Both Brooke and Evan had to be on high alert.
Everyone did. “Caleb. Me. Evan. He wants to create chaos, so there’s no way to know when or where he’ll strike.
” He let that settle. “From this moment on, nobody acts on a text. Anything important gets confirmed by voice or face to face. No exceptions.”
Their lives depended on it.