Another case wrapped up, another arsonist going to prison after confessing all his crimes to Sam McRooney. She was thrilled, less about the case than about returning home to Northern Lakes and to her husband. A smile curved her lips as she settled behind the wheel of her rental car, which was parked outside the state police post in Pine Peaks, Oregon. She would be home soon, back in their bed, back in his arms…unless he and his hotshot team got called up to this wildfire, too. She’d caught the person who’d started it, but it was far from over.
The sooner the blaze was out the better, before there was any more destruction, any more loss of property or—far more tragic—loss of lives. Nobody had died yet; the arsonist wasn’t a killer.
She’d used that to get the confession from him, but she wasn’t sure how much longer that would be true with the way the wildfire continued to rage through national forests along the West Coast. Even now a cough tickled her throat, which was dry from the smoke hanging in the air despite her distance from the fire. She wanted to get farther from the smoke and from the arsonist and the creepy family of his she’d encountered when she’d picked him up for questioning.
She wanted to be back in Northern Lakes. But not if Braden wasn’t there. He was home to her. Wherever he was…
Even if he was on his way here for work.
She hadn’t checked out of her hotel yet, so she had to stop there before driving to the airport. She reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone, intent on calling Braden, on sharing with him her triumph and her love.
She’d vowed once to never fall in love, to never trust anyone with her heart. But he was such a good man, she’d had no choice. With his integrity and kindness and selflessness, he’d made it impossible for her not to fall deeply and irrevocably in love with him. Before she could call him, her phone vibrated with an incoming text. Blocked number. And then a text popped up on the screen.
If you want to see your husband, you will do exactly as you’re told…
A gasp slipped out of her lips, and a jab of pain stabbed her heart. Where was Braden? Had something happened to him? The phone vibrated in her suddenly shaky grasp. She needed to call him. Needed to make sure he was okay.
Then a second message appeared: You will not try to contact him or anyone else in Northern Lakes…
“Screw you,” she murmured. She wasn’t about to listen to any stupid message. “Some damn prank.” It had to be. It couldn’t be anything else; it couldn’t be serious. Still, her pulse pounded fast with panic. She had to talk to Braden. Now.
But before she could call him, another text came through.
And she knew this wasn’t a prank. It was serious. She had to follow the blocked contact’s commands or risk never seeing her husband again.
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