K-9 Hideout

by Elizabeth Heiter

  But she was also returning with a feeling of safety. Adam was in custody. He had admitted to killing Dylan. He’d admitted to setting the truck on Sitka. He’d even admitted to giving her a shove in the woods, then grabbing her arm to ostensibly save her.

  Apparently, he’d searched for her for over a year and a half without success after she’d left New York. Then she’d started her online jewelry business. She didn’t remember it, but years ago, she’d posted something on social media about her dreams of designing jewelry, even shared a drawing of a necklace. A friend had shared that post. Then in Alaska, Sabrina had finally made that necklace. Adam had spent so much time obsessively trying to trace her online that the single post had eventually led him to her, through the PO box she used when she mailed out the jewelry.

  She shivered at the deviousness, the obsessiveness he’d demonstrated. But it was over now. She straightened, pushing Adam from her mind as she looked around the place she’d come to call home.

  She was going to miss this cabin. She was going to miss this town, miss the people.

  A familiar pain clamped down on her chest, and she pressed a hand against her heart. After Adam had been arrested, she’d told Tate to go home, that she needed time. She knew how she felt about him, but she didn’t know if she could do anything about it.

  She hadn’t told him she loved him. She wasn’t sure she ever would. But meeting him and Sitka, coming to love him and Sitka, made leaving Alaska painful.

  Glancing around the cabin one more time, she reached for her duffel bags. Lifting them sent a searing pain across her ribs and caused her head to swim. She closed her eyes and breathed through the pain until it eased up. Then she moved slowly toward the door.

  No matter what she decided, she’d call Tate once she got to New York. She’d debated stopping by his house on her way to the airport, but worried if she did, she’d break down. She wanted time to feel more whole, to have more distance from the attacks in the army fort, before making any big decisions about her future.

  She might come back here someday. Might see Tate and Sitka again. But maybe they both needed to return to the lives they’d left behind before they could decide what their futures held.

  Pulling the door open, she drew in a hard breath. “Tate.”

  He stood on her porch, his hands twisted together like he’d been wringing them. He looked serious and determined and exactly what her eyes wanted to see.

  Woof!

  A smile trembled on her lips as she looked to his side, at the beautiful dog. “Sitka.”

  “I know you wanted time,” he said, his gaze going to the bags she carried. His lips tightened briefly, then his gaze returned to hers. “But I just needed you to know something.”

  Sabrina nodded slowly as she took a step backward, never taking her gaze off him. Her chest felt like it swelled with all the emotions battling inside her: hope and fear and love.

  He stepped inside, into her personal space like he had just under a month ago, when she’d felt like she was taking such a big step letting him into her cabin for the first time. Sitka followed, tail wagging as she pranced next to Sabrina, nudging her leg.

  Sabrina couldn’t help but smile as she put down her bags and stroked Sitka’s fur. She couldn’t stop the smile from fading into something more serious as she looked up at Tate, breathed in his familiar sandalwood scent.

  “I love you, Sabrina.”

  Her throat clenched, her own words of love wanting to escape past the barriers she’d put up.

  But she’d spent two years being afraid. Two years keeping people at a distance. As much as she wanted it to, that fear didn’t just magically disappear simply because the threat of her stalker was gone. The ability to trust again wasn’t easy.

  Was she keeping Tate at a distance because he’d broken her trust? Or because she’d become afraid to trust her own gut, trust her own feelings?

  “I messed up,” Tate continued. “And I will forever regret not being more honest with you.”

  He reached out, took both of her hands in his, and she felt the contact all the way down to her toes.

  She had to be honest with herself. In the week she hadn’t seen him, she’d missed this man desperately.

  “I know you care about me,” he said, his tone as intense as his gaze. “I know you do.”

  She felt herself nodding, saw a brief smile tip the edges of Tate’s lips.

  Then he was serious again. “We’re right together, you and me. If you need more time, I understand and I’ll give it to you. But I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  He paused, as if waiting for her to speak, but she couldn’t seem to form words before he rushed on.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust.”

  She stared up at him, thinking of all the opportunities she’d missed to be with him while she’d lived in Alaska. Thinking of how she’d tried to do what was best for her family, even though it hadn’t been what they’d wanted. Of how she’d snuck out in the middle of the night, without a goodbye, so they wouldn’t try to follow.

  He’d made mistakes, too. But she knew he thought he was protecting her by keeping his past from her. And every time she’d needed him, he’d shown up.

  She loved him. She was angry with him, but if she hadn’t fallen for him so completely, she wouldn’t have been so mad or felt so betrayed.

  She couldn’t deny what she felt any longer. She didn’t want to let her own fear hold her back and lose him. Didn’t want to spend the next part of her life missing someone else she loved.

  “Whatever you need,” Tate repeated, stepping even closer, so she had to tilt her head back to keep staring into his dark, serious gaze. “I know we both need to reconnect with the lives we had to leave. But I want to do it together. I want to see my family again, finally, and not feel like I’m compromising their safety or my own by doing it. I want to introduce you to them.”

  She jerked at the words, at the implied commitment there, and he spoke even faster. “I know you need to go home to your family in New York. I want to meet them. If you want me to,” he added. “Whether it’s now or later. I want to be with you, whether it’s here or in New York or it’s long-distance for a while.” He glanced at Sitka and added, “The chief has agreed that whatever you want, if you’ll let me be with you, Sitka can come, too.”

  Woof!

  He smiled at his dog, then turned his serious gaze back on her. “You can think about this as long as you need. But I won’t give up on us. I love you too much, Sabrina.”

  He let go of one of her hands to cup her cheek. “If you decide you want me to go and leave you alone, I will. But I’ll always be waiting. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

  She stared up at him, words caught in her throat and fear still lodged in her chest.

  She loved him. She didn’t want to lose him. But was she ready to make such a big leap of faith?

  He nodded, gave her a sad smile as he dropped his hand and backed away.

  He’d started to turn for the door when she grabbed his arm, gripping tight, knowing it was time to truly move forward. And she couldn’t have the life she wanted without him in it.

  He turned back, his gaze filled with surprise and a sudden, fierce hope.

  “I love you, too, Tate,” she croaked, then suppressed a laugh at how tearful she sounded, how joyous she felt. “I love you, too.”

  Woof! Sitka nudged her again, and Sabrina gave in to the laugh ready to burst inside her. “I love you, too, Sitka.”

  Then Tate stepped closer, lowered his lips to hers and gently kissed her.

  His lips only touched hers for a brief moment, careful of the bruising still coloring her jaw. When he lifted his face again and gave her a huge, brilliant smile, she felt better than she had in more than two years. They’d figure out the details, but she knew one thing for sure: she’d
gotten two amazing gifts out of her two years on the run—him and Sitka.

  And she wasn’t going to ever let them go.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Cold Case True Crime by Denise N. Wheatley.

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  Cold Case True Crime

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  Chapter One

  Samantha Vincent flinched when the coffee shop door slammed shut behind her. She stared down the dark, vacant street in search of her car—she hadn’t realized she’d parked so far away.

  The temperature had dropped severely since she’d arrived at the café. There was now a stinging chill in the night air. She set out toward the sidewalk, tightening her houndstooth-patterned scarf in an effort to block the wind as it whistled eerily past her ears.

  Samantha had spent the day working on her popular true crime cold case blog, Someone Knows Something, and time had gotten away from her. By now, businesses were closed and most residents of small-town Gattenburg, Illinois, had retired for the evening.

  A frigid breeze whipped through her golden-brown bob and blew open Samantha’s black wool peacoat, sending unsettling shivers throughout her entire body. But it wasn’t just the icy climate that had unnerved her.

  She was still rattled by an email she’d received from Ava Jennings, an old high school friend whose family Samantha had grown close to after spending countless days at their home during her teenage years. In her message, Ava pleaded with Samantha to investigate her brother Jacob’s mysterious death, which police had just officially stated was cold with no leads.

  Tree branches scraped against dim streetlights that barely illuminated the road. Samantha glanced down at the ground, her lone shadow a stark reminder that she was unaccompanied in the unnerving darkness. Moments like these brought on paranoid thoughts of all the unsolved cases she worked so hard to crack. Many of those victims found themselves in her exact same position seconds before their demise—isolated and vulnerable.

  Samantha pushed those disturbing thoughts out of her mind and hurried along the pavement. Her feet ached in her high-heeled boots. But in spite of the pain, she clenched her jaw and fought through it, anxious to get off the desolate street and inside her car.

  Just when Samantha’s convertible appeared in the hazy distance, the sound of screeching tires pierced her eardrums.

  She stopped abruptly. The vehicle’s engine emitted a menacing roar.

  Samantha spun around, almost losing her footing. Bright yellow headlights blinded her squinted chestnut eyes. She inhaled sharply, watching while the black sedan crept toward her.

  She curled her hands into tight fists and took a step back, her lean legs quivering in the wind. Remembering the mini stun gun she’d slipped into her back pocket, Samantha pulled it out and contemplated making a run for her car. But she was too afraid to turn her back on the man she presumed was behind the wheel.

  Collin Wentworth...

  That’s the name Ava had mentioned several times throughout her email as she dissected the details of her brother’s murder.

  Collin and Jacob had been childhood friends who grew apart during their teenage years once Collin went rogue. The incident that officially ended their friendship occurred one night when Collin convinced Jacob to accompany him on a wild joyride in a stolen vehicle. After being apprehended by the police, Jacob received six months in a juvenile detention center while Collin was given probation. That’s when Jacob realized it was time for them to go their separate ways. But the pair remained cordial over the years, and Collin even hired Jacob to work for him at Westman’s Automotive Factory, where Jacob served as a team assembler building car engines and Collin acted as the facility’s general manager.

  The day Jacob’s body was found, he’d met with Collin to discuss the whereabouts of three fellow team assemblers who had gone missing. The official police report noted that Jacob had been seen walking out of the factory with Collin while having what appeared to be a heated conversation. After a brief exchange, they went their separate ways. Collin admitted to police that he’d spoken with Jacob the day he went missing. But he refused to disclose the details of their conversation. Ava believed that Collin was the last person to see Jacob alive.

  Collin was a narcissist whose temper exploded when he drank. From bar fights to the destruction of property, public intoxication to reckless driving, his foul reputation certainly preceded him. But because Collin’s father was Walter Wentworth, Gattenburg’s chief of police, he usually got off with light warnings and slaps on the wrist.

  Ava was convinced that Collin was withholding information that could help solve the case.

  Beep, beep!

  Samantha jumped at the sound of the blaring horn. The looming car was getting closer. She couldn’t help but wonder whether Collin had seen her latest blog post, where she’d insisted that he could’ve been a huge help in Jacob’s death investigation had he simply cooperated with the police.

  News tended to spread quickly throughout Gattenburg, and Collin seemed to have undercover eyes and ears all over town.

  Samantha shoved her trembling fingers inside her handbag in search of her key fob. When sharp metal edges grazed her palm, she grabbed it and pounded the remote until her taillights blinked up ahead.

  Her calf muscles throbbed as she sprinted into the street. The second she grasped her door handle, screeching brakes brought the menacing car to a halt right next to her. She tightened the grip on her stun gun, watching through the corner of her eye as the tinted passenger window lowered.

  “I thought that was you...” a low voice boomed.

  Samantha’s heart thumped erratically at the thought of coming face-to-face with Collin. She bent down and peered inside the car.

  When she locked eyes with Gregory Harris, a handsome police detective who was new to Gattenburg, Samantha inhaled sharply.

  “Officer Harris!” she exclaimed, gripping her chest with relief. “Hello. Hi. I, uh—sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  He chuckled softly, his full, sexy lips spreading into a crooked grin. “Really? Well, I hope you’re not too disappointed that it’s just me.”

  “No,” she murmured, reaching back and discreetly slipping her stun gun into her pocket. “Not at all.”

  A jolt of heat shot up Samantha’s spine. The detective had had that effect on her ever since she met him last month at Hannah’s Coffee Shop.

  He had just moved to Gattenburg from Chicago, where he’d worked on the police force for over ten years. Detective Harris claimed to have left in search of a slower, more peaceful lifestyle. But the bitterness behind his dark brown eyes told a different story when he spoke of his departure.

  The detective reached out and turned down the radio, his muscular arm bulging through his navy cashmere sweater. “I’m guessing you just left the coffee shop after working on your blog all day?”

  “You guessed right. I usually don’t stay this late, but I was on a roll.”

  “Wow. Your dedication to reporting on all those mysterious cold cases is admirable. That piece you wrote last week about the kidnapped student at the University of Illinois? Impressive.”

  Samantha’s skin tingled under his intense stare. “Why, thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “You’re welcome. So, what’s the latest post about?”

  She paused, her cheerful expression wilting into one of concern.

  “The death of an old high school friend.” Samantha’s voice quaked. She cleared her throat before continuing. “His name was Jacob Jennings. You may have heard of him. He died mysteriously months ago, and his
body was found two blocks away from Westman’s Automotive Factory.”

  “Hmm,” the detective sighed, running his large hand over his freshly trimmed goatee. “That name doesn’t ring a bell.”

  Samantha dropped her head in disappointment. “Of course it doesn’t. The case went cold less than forty-eight hours into the investigation. The Gattenburg Police Department has done nothing to solve it. That’s why I’ve committed to helping Jacob’s sister get to the bottom of it. And I’ll be using Someone Knows Something to provide the community with updates on my progress. If I can stir up some sort of public outcry, maybe the police department will feel pressured to reopen the case.”

  She hesitated, waiting to hear Gregory’s response. When he shifted in his seat and remained silent, she pressed on.

  “Hey, I’d love to get your take on the situation. The fact that you’re new to the Gattenburg PD is huge. You’d bring a fresh eye to the investigation. Plus you’ve got access to the file and critical inside information. If we join forces, I bet you and I could—”

  Detective Harris held up his hand. “Hold on, Samantha. First off, let me just say that I am very sorry to hear about the loss of your friend. With that being said, I’m new to this force, and there are certain protocols that I need to follow. I know I haven’t been in Gattenburg for very long, but judging from the upstanding reputation and track record of Chief Wentworth, I can’t imagine he didn’t do all that he could to ensure Jacob’s death was thoroughly investigated.”

  Despite the gust of cold air that swept past Samantha, she felt herself growing hot with frustration. She loosened her scarf and took a deep breath.

  “Detective Harris, there is so much more to this case than you know. And if I may be blunt, there are rumors that some of the men in blue working next to you aren’t as ethical as they may seem.”

  An uneasy silence filled the air. Samantha crossed her arms and tapped her foot rapidly against the asphalt. She knew she was being forward, but after hearing that a new detective would be joining the force, she’d hoped there would be renewed interest in the investigation, along with a fresh perspective.