by Cynthia Eden
She swatted his hands away. “Not now.”
Not now?
Jillian lurched to her feet. She took a step, then swayed. Hayden surged up and caught her. “Jill, damn it, what are you doing?”
But she shoved away from him. “He set that place to explode.”
Uh, yeah, he had.
“You knew...” Her breath came in quick pants. “When the phone rang, you...you realized what was happening.”
He’d suspected and he was real glad they’d hauled butt getting out of there. Another few moments...
Jill slapped at his shirt. “You’re smoking.”
Hell. He yanked off the shirt and tossed it to the ground. Hayden stomped on it, putting out the flames. He looked up—and saw that Jill was stumbling away.
She must have hit her head. She’s weaving.
He grabbed for her again.
She pushed his hands away. “He’s here.”
Blood trickled down her temple. He swore. “Baby, you’re bleeding.” He needed to get her to a doctor.
But once more, she pushed against him. “Don’t you see? He had to be watching, to make the phone call, to detonate the bomb. He had to be close.”
The cabin was burning so fast and hard around them, he could feel the heat of the flames lancing against his skin.
“He has to be here,” Jill said. “He’s watching.” Her eyes seemed far too dark as she said, “He’s always watching.”
Hayden started to shake his head but...but he thought he’d just heard the sound of a car cranking. An engine growling to life. Jill’s head whipped to the left at the same time, and he knew she’d heard the sound, too.
When she broke from him and ran toward the marsh they’d crawled through one dark and long-ago night, he didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he raced with her, his feet pounding over the earth, his whole focus locked on that growling engine.
Jill’s right. He would need to be close so he could watch the cabin. He lured her out here, he’d want an up-close view of the action.
The action... Jill’s death.
Tires squealed. The guy was getting away. Hayden pushed himself to run faster and Jill was right with him. They shoved their way through the marsh and he caught sight of the back of the car, a big, sleek ride and—
“Tag number,” Jill gasped. “Get...it.”
The car vanished, whipping around the corner. Hayden yanked out his phone, ready to call for backup and get patrols out to find that bastard but—
When he yanked his phone out of his pocket, he saw that the device had partially melted.
Jill stood as still as a statue, her gaze locked on the spot that the car had been in moments before.
“Jill?”
She didn’t move.
His hand curled around her shoulder. “Jill!”
Her body jerked. She looked up at him, blinking. “I... I think I know that car.”
She knew the car?
Jill rubbed her forehead. “Everything’s...hazy.”
And the blood was still pouring from her temple. “Baby...” He pulled her close. He thought of how fast that fire had spread, how it had come at them, rushing and destroying.
They’d walked into the killer’s trap. They’d barely walked out.
In the distance, he heard the scream of sirens. Help, backup, rushing toward the black cloud of smoke that filled the air. But that help would get there too late. The perp was gone, only...
His eyes narrowed. He’d gotten a partial on the tag, and Jill was right...the vehicle did seem familiar.
“He made a fatal mistake,” Hayden whispered as he stared into Jill’s eyes.
Two fatal mistakes actually.
One, the SOB had dared to hurt Jill.
And two, you didn’t take me out, jerk. You left me alive and that means I will be coming after you. Coming after you with everything that I’ve got.
* * *
JILL’S HEAD HURT, her clothes were covered in ash and they were more than a little singed, and she knew a new assortment of bruises marked her body.
She’d almost died that morning. She would have died if Hayden hadn’t pulled her out of that cabin. A rookie mistake, going for that phone. She should have known better.
I’m too close to this case. I’m acting on impulse. On emotion. I’m not doing the job the way I should.
Or, at least, she hadn’t been. But she’d gotten patched up by the paramedic on scene. She’d gotten her head clear. And—
I also got your tag number. When backup arrived at the cabin, Hayden had spouted off a description of the car they were after and he’d given the first three digits of the tag number. Even with her head feeling as if a sledgehammer had hit it, she’d been able to give the last four digits of that license plate.
She’d also been able to point the deputies in the direction of the owner because...
I know that car.
“Kurt Anderson,” Jill whispered. “When he arrived at his father’s place yesterday...he pulled up in a car just like that one.” A big, black, sleek ride.
Firefighters were battling the blaze, but she knew they weren’t going to be able to save the cabin. It was long past the point of saving.
And I’m glad.
She’d never understood why anyone would want to leave that cabin standing. If she’d had her way, it would have been torn to the ground years before. Instead, it had nearly destroyed her, again.
“We need to talk to Kurt,” Jill said.
A muscle jerked in Hayden’s jaw. Someone had tossed him a T-shirt to wear, one that had Harris County Sheriff’s Office emblazoned on the front. “Finn is running the tag number. Let’s see what—”
“Sheriff!”
Finn was running toward them.
“Sheriff, Agent West is right! That tag—it’s for Kurt Anderson’s 2015—”
Jill didn’t hear the rest of his response. Agent West is right. That was all she needed to know. She rushed toward the nearest patrol car. When the paramedic had bandaged her bleeding temple, he’d muttered a bit about her needing stitches, but she was fine. Definitely good to go.
She yanked open the driver’s side door of that patrol car. She looked inside. Where the hell were the keys?
“Don’t even think about it.” Hayden’s hand curled around her arm and he pulled her back. “The only place you’re going is into the hospital for those stitches.”
He had to be insane. “I’m going after Kurt Anderson.” Kurt Anderson. He’d done this? Part of her was shocked but...you know families are always the first suspects. No one ever looked hard at Kurt for the crime. Maybe he killed Christy. Maybe Christy had never been taken by the same man who abducted Jill. Maybe Kurt had been his sister’s murderer all along...
“No, you’re getting looked after. You probably have a damn concussion, the last thing you need is to be driving.” His face was locked in tight, angry lines. “I hate to do this, but you’re not giving me a choice.”
What was he even talking about? Do what?
“Finn, take Agent West back to the ambulance. Stay with her while she goes to the hospital.”
Her jaw dropped. He wasn’t serious.
“I’m pulling jurisdiction on you, baby,” he whispered. “Because I won’t risk you.”
She wasn’t his to risk. She was an FBI agent. She was—
My vision’s blurry, my knees are shaky and I can feel blood trickling down my temple again.
“I will bring him in,” Hayden promised her as a muscle jerked along his clenched jaw. “But I have to know that you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” Jill gritted out the words. “Just...go. Don’t let him get away. He...took someone. I heard her scream.”
“We both heard her.�
�� He nodded. “I swear to you, I will find her. I won’t give up.”
Finn rushed toward them. “Ma’am?”
She hated this. “Forget me, Finn. Go with Hayden. He needs backup.” And she’d be calling in some backup of her own, just in case. This wasn’t going to be some jurisdictional war, that wasn’t the way she operated. CARD team members didn’t take over, they didn’t huff and puff and steamroll their way over a local investigative team.
They worked together. They saved the victims. The victims were what mattered. “Go get her,” Jill whispered.
Hayden squeezed her hand.
Then he was gone.
The paramedic hurried toward her. “Agent West?”
“Stitch me up,” she ordered him. “Or find me someone else who can.” She thought of Kurt, of Christy, of the way monsters could lie in wait for so very long. And she knew that they needed extra help. “And give me your phone.” Because there was one special person at the FBI that she wanted by her side.
* * *
RAGE BURNED INSIDE of Hayden’s blood. His hands had a death grip on the steering wheel and the thunder of his heartbeat echoed in his ears.
“Uh, Sheriff? Should you...maybe slow down a bit?” Finn asked nervously.
Slow down a bit? They were after a man who’d just tried to kill Jill. Another few moments, and Jill would have burned. They both would have burned.
He took the corner fast, making Finn slam against the side of the door. In his mind, he kept seeing Jill, lying so still, blood trickling down her temple.
Too close. Too close. Jill had almost been taken from him, and the fool who thought he’d gotten away with murder...
He was about to be in for a very unfortunate surprise.
Hayden slammed on brakes in front of the Anderson house. His sirens were blaring, his lights flashing. He jumped from the car and ran up the sidewalk. The front door opened and Theodore Anderson stood there, blinking owlishly at him. “Hayden Black? What the hell do you want?”
Hayden grabbed him, fisting his hand in the guy’s shirtfront and he pushed Theodore back against the side of the house. “Where’s your son?”
Finn had run toward the garage. “The car isn’t here!”
“What car?” Theodore’s gaze darted toward Finn. “Why’s he looking in my garage? What’s going on here?”
The rage bubbled even hotter inside of Hayden, as hot as the fire that had destroyed the old cabin. “Where. Is. Your. Son?”
“He usually goes for a run in the mornings. At the beach...” Theodore’s face mottled. “Now get your hands off me!”
Kurt wasn’t there.
“Your son’s car was at the scene of an arson this morning.” He let Theodore go but didn’t back away. “Two people were nearly killed in that fire.”
Theodore’s eyes bulged. “What? No.” He shook his head once. Hard. “No way, my son is not involved—”
“We think another girl is missing.” No parents had come forward yet. They’d had the morning from hell, and no one had reported the girl as missing so far. “I need to find your son, right now.”
It seemed to take a moment for Theodore to connect the dots. Arson. Kurt’s car. The missing girl...
Then the man’s face seemed to crumple. “What? What are you saying?” But the terrible, dark suspicion was there, wide in his eyes. So clear to see.
“I’m saying I want to talk to your son. He’s a suspect right now and I want—”
“There, Sheriff!” Finn yelled. “I see him!”
Hayden’s head jerked to the left. Finn was pointing, and, sure enough, he saw Kurt. The guy was in the middle of the street, wearing a sweat-soaked T-shirt, jogging shorts and running shoes. Kurt’s gaze was on the patrol car in front of the Andersons’ house, but then his stare swung toward Hayden and Theodore.
He’s going to run from me. Hayden knew it even before the guy turned on his heel and rushed back down the street.
The innocent don’t flee. Hayden took off after the guy, rushing fast and hard, adrenaline fueling him. Kurt wasn’t getting away. He’d told Jill he’d bring in the guy, and that was exactly what Hayden intended to do.
His feet pounded over the pavement. Kurt was fast, he’d had a head start, but Hayden was faster. In moments, he was right behind Kurt, and Hayden launched himself into the air. His body hurtled toward Kurt’s, and he tackled the other man, sending them both flying onto the pavement. The cement tore into Hayden’s forearms and ripped through his pants, but he barely felt the sting. All of his focus was on Kurt Anderson.
He pinned the guy beneath him on the ground. “Where the hell is she?” Hayden snarled.
Kurt tried to kick him, tried to headbutt him. What did the guy think? It was amateur hour? Hayden spun Kurt onto his back, cuffed him in seconds, and then yanked the heaving man to his feet. “Where is the girl?”
“What girl?” Kurt shouted. “Get the hell off me! Let me go!”
Hayden swung Kurt around to face him. “Do you always run when you see a sheriff at your house?”
“I just—Let me go! I know my rights! You can’t do this to me! I haven’t done anything wrong!”
Finn pounded toward them. He had his gun out and pointed—a bit shakily—at Kurt.
“Don’t hurt my son!” Theodore barreled after them.
Neighbors were peeking out, watching with wide eyes.
“Your rights?” Hayden laughed. “Fine, you have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney, you—”
“Get these cuffs off me!”
Hayden stared into his eyes. “You should never have tried to hurt Jill.” His voice was low, carrying just between them.
He saw it then—the flash of guilt. The nervous expression that told him he’d just hit pay dirt.
But then Kurt started sputtering. “I haven’t done anything! I was just out for a run, I didn’t—”
“Where’s your car?” Hayden asked, cutting into his words.
Kurt blinked. “In the garage. I parked it there last night. I was out late, driving around. I came home and put it inside.”
Hayden shook his head. “Try again.”
“It’s in the garage!” His frantic stare shifted to Theodore. “Dad, tell them—”
But Theodore wasn’t saying anything.
“The car isn’t in the garage,” Hayden said as he locked his hand around Kurt’s shoulder and pushed him toward the sidewalk. “But guess what? Jill and I saw you this morning. We saw your car right after you set that bomb. Couldn’t get away fast enough, could you? Your mistake...you didn’t take us out. We saw you.”
Kurt tried to wrench free and run.
Hayden just tightened his hand. “Where’s the girl?”
“What girl?” Kurt was nearly yelling. “I didn’t take anyone! I didn’t do anything! Not to you or to your precious damn Jillian West! Let me go!”
“The only place you’re going is to jail.” Hayden stared at the man. “And all those secrets you’ve been keeping for so long? They’re all about to be pulled out into the open.”
Kurt blanched and he shot a guilty glance toward his father.
“You’re done,” Hayden said simply. “It’s over.”
Chapter Eleven
“I want to see him.” Jill burst into the sheriff’s station and flatly made her announcement. Finn jumped up when he saw her and rushed from behind the check-in counter. “I want to see Kurt Anderson.”
“Are you okay, Agent West?” Finn’s gaze darted to the bandage on her forehead. “I heard the paramedics took you to the hospital. Did the doctors release you?”
She had a concussion, she was in a furious rage and she was very, very much not okay.
Before she could say anything else, though, the door ope
ned behind her. She looked back, and saw a woman with pale blond hair standing in the doorway. The woman wore no makeup, and her hair had been pulled back into a tight ponytail.
“I need to fill out a report,” the woman said, her voice was shaking. Her hands trembled as she lifted them into the air and waved vaguely toward the check-in desk. “My daughter... I can’t find my daughter.”
Oh, no. Jill spun toward her even as she heard the echo of a girl’s scream in her ears. “Ma’am? I’m FBI Agent Jillian West. I can help you.”
The woman blinked her light blue eyes. “You’re... FBI?”
Jill pulled out her badge. The wallet had stuck together a bit after the fire, but the badge was still good. “I specialize in missing persons cases. Children’s abductions.”
The lady backed up. “I think Vanessa just ran away. She wasn’t abducted.” Her smile was nervous. “I just need to see the sheriff, but...um, thank you, anyway.” She started to walk around Jill.
Jill just moved, blocking her path. “How long has your daughter been missing?”
A crinkle appeared between the woman’s brows. “I don’t... I’m not really sure.”
Jill didn’t let her expression alter.
Red stained the woman’s cheeks. “She was gone when I woke up this morning, but I figured she’d just slipped away for a bike ride. I mean... Vanessa does that. It’s not like she’s some little kid. She’s a teenager—fourteen years old. I thought she’d be back but...”
But she wasn’t.
The woman straightened her shoulders. “I had an argument with my husband last night. I know Vanessa heard it. She...she probably just got angry and is trying to punish me by disappearing for a while. I just need the sheriff to send out some patrols to find her and bring her back. Get her to stop this foolishness...” Her words trailed off as she stared at Jill. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
Jill released a slow breath. “What’s your name?”
“Carol. Carol Wells, but my daughter is Vanessa Gray.” She fumbled in her bag and pulled out a photo—it was one of those class photos with the overly springlike background. A girl with sandy-blond hair stared back at the camera, a small smile on her lips. “That’s her. She’s just—”