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Witness Pursuit
Hope White


GUARDING THE WITNESSWhen Cassie McBride discovers a dead body in a rental cabin, she quickly becomes the killer’s next target. Now the upbeat, chatty property manager is under the personal protection of Police Chief Nate Walsh—the living embodiment of the strong, silent type. Nate’s tragic past has taught him that a cop falling for a pretty witness can lead to disaster. Dogged at every turn by the murderer, Nate must stay focused and not let his growing feelings for Cassie interfere with his duty. If there’s any hope for Cassie—or a future for them—it’s going to take all Nate’s skill to not only keep her safe…but to keep her alive.Echo Mountain: Saving lives and finding love in the mountains of Washington State







GUARDING THE WITNESS

When Cassie McBride discovers a dead body in a rental cabin, she quickly becomes the killer’s next target. Now the upbeat, chatty property manager is under the personal protection of police chief Nate Walsh—the living embodiment of the strong, silent type. Nate’s tragic past has taught him that a cop falling for a pretty witness can lead to disaster. Dogged at every turn by the murderer, Nate must stay focused and not let his growing feelings for Cassie interfere with his duty. If there’s any hope for Cassie—or a future for them—it’s going to take all Nate’s skill to not only keep her safe…but to keep her alive.


“Am I in trouble?”

He snapped his attention to her. “You’re conscious.”

“Disappointed, huh?” she teased.

Nate ripped his gaze from her adorable face. “This isn’t funny.”

“No, it most certainly is not. I was just doing my job and found a body. Is she dead? Please tell me she’s not dead. At first I thought maybe she just collapsed and hit her head. I’ve passed out before from not remembering to eat.”

Her nonstop chatter convinced Nate she was okay. “Cassie, take a breath.”

“You’re angry with me,” she said.

“I’m not angry.”

“You seem angry. Why, because I’m down here? I was only trying to get away.” She hesitated. “That man, there was a man.”

“It’s okay, he’s not here now. You’re safe.”


An eternal optimist, HOPE WHITE was born and raised in the Midwest. She and her college sweetheart have been married for thirty years and are blessed with two wonderful sons, two feisty cats and a bossy border collie. When not dreaming up inspirational tales, Hope enjoys hiking, sipping tea with friends and going to the movies. She loves to hear from readers, who can contact her at hopewhiteauthor@gmail.com.


WITNESS

PURSUIT

Hope White






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Wherefore putting away lying, speak every man truth with his neighbor: for we are members one of another.

—Ephesians 4:25


For Lar, my real-life hero


Contents

Cover (#uba981ac6-7ad1-55b5-8584-5f6dedd92667)

Back Cover Text (#udb8c59fc-d70a-5651-9623-9a1399307667)

Introduction (#ufb0431e7-c87d-5a0b-a04c-9e438bdcd1b3)

About the Author (#u85d50c34-8b1e-5359-9f2c-5cbb50c313ae)

Title Page (#u8fe90c09-a5c5-5fbc-838d-1107a048db9c)

Bible Verse (#u7e90ebc1-6a23-56c0-8be2-b4cb59d621e6)

Dedication (#u0b8451d0-22c1-5adb-ad9f-7423095decb7)

ONE (#ulink_de8d6063-8449-5763-be98-ccc8e5ff4cc9)

TWO (#ulink_8719a6ad-edee-53c4-a38d-70c69717b2d8)

THREE (#ulink_121a39be-488b-562b-b5ce-ffd72e9dda51)

FOUR (#ulink_98743733-d40b-522a-8698-d6df9460a364)

FIVE (#ulink_c01f0a8e-2aeb-5b6a-98d6-40fe5ae2afc8)

SIX (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)

NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

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ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)

TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)

THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


ONE (#ulink_cec7e210-9c11-512d-bc9b-11766ef54f99)

Cassie McBride got out of Ruby, her little red car, and froze.

The front door to the Whispering Pines cabin was ajar. That wasn’t right. Was the renter still on the premises? How awkward. The woman was supposed to have checked out by noon and it was nearly eight o’clock in the evening.

Cassie pulled out her phone to call Becca, her best friend. Becca had helped Cassie get the job as a property manager for Echo Mountain Rentals, which rented out private cabins to vacationers in the Cascade Mountains. Perhaps Becca had dealt with this type of situation and could offer advice.

No, if Cassie wanted people to think of her as independent, she needed to act more and ask less. She decided not to bring in the fresh linens and toiletries until she’d resolved this issue. Who knows, she might even have to call security.

“Be strong,” she coached, but she abhorred conflict. If she were to keep this good-paying job, she’d have to do the uncomfortable tasks like kick out renters who’d overstayed their welcome. She straightened her shoulders, marched to the front door and eased it open. “Hello? It’s the property manager.”

Silence.

“Anyone here?”

Nothing.

She sighed with relief. Perhaps the door didn’t latch properly when the renter vacated the premises.

Her gaze drifted to the picture window and the incredible view of the Cascade Mountains. She would miss these mountains when she left on her travel adventures overseas where she’d discover new mountains and beautiful places in foreign lands.

But she wasn’t there yet.

To get the cabin ready for tomorrow’s renters, she pulled her phone out of her purple bag and opened the checklist. She glanced toward the back of the house and noticed the patio door wasn’t locked.

“Not a very responsible renter,” she said to herself. She’d let Mr. Anderson know not to rent to that woman again. She crossed the room and locked the door.

Turning her attention to the kitchen, Cassie got busy with her assignment. Her report needed to be filed tonight, and if anything was damaged they’d send maintenance to fix the problem before the next renter checked in.

To help her focus, she plugged earbuds into her phone and hit Play. This was the perfect job for Cassie, and she couldn’t thank Becca enough for recommending her to her boss. The money earned during the high season would pad Cassie’s bank account so she could escape Echo Mountain sooner rather than later.

Starting in the kitchen, Cassie turned the appliances on and off—the toaster, blender and microwave. She checked the garbage disposal and oven. All seemed in working order.

During a break between songs, she thought she heard something. It sounded like scratching. Another song started, and Cassie hit Pause. Pulled out the earbuds.

Scratch, scratch, whine.

She followed the source of the sound into the master bedroom.

Whine, whine, scratch.

It was coming from the closet. Thinking a critter might have sneaked in through the open door, she grabbed a pillow off the bed, ready to shoo it out of the house.

She took a deep breath, counted to three and slid the door open.

A flash of fur dashed out of the closet.

Cassie gasp-shrieked, startled by the sudden movement of a little dog sprinting across the room. She caught her breath, her gaze trained on the terrier mix scurrying into the master bathroom.

“Where did you come from, Dasher?” The name seemed appropriate, although not so much his presence. Whispering Pines was a no-pet property. Cassie followed him, stepped into the bathroom doorway and froze.

A limp female body lay sprawled across the edge of the Jacuzzi tub.

“Oh no, ma’am?”

Cassie rushed to the fully clothed unconscious woman. As she knelt beside her, Cassie noticed blood trailing down the side of the woman’s face. Had she hit her head? Cassie felt for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. The dog barked frantically as if trying to revive its master.

“Gotta get help.” Cassie ran into the kitchen, the dog practically underfoot. She could barely think over the constant barking, so she picked up the dog to soothe him. “It’s okay, buddy,” she said, stroking his head.

She grabbed her smartphone off the counter, and with trembling fingers she called 911.

“911 Emergency,” the operator answered.

“My name is Cassie McBride. There’s a woman, she’s injured, maybe dead I’m not sure, in Whispering Pines cabin on Reflection Pass Drive.”

“What’s the address, ma’am?”

“I... I... Hang on a second.” Cassie fiddled with the phone, opening a map program. Becca had given her landmarks, not an actual address, when she’d asked Cassie to cover for her tonight.

The map program was taking too long to load. A woman could be dying in the next room.

She held the phone to her ear once again. “Just take the first right after Craig’s Gas and Grub on Highway Two, then a left at the blue bear mailbox and you’ll see the cabin up ahead.”

“Ma’am, we need an address.”

“I don’t have it. I’ll have to call my manager and call you back.”

“Ma’am, I need you to stay on the line. Give me your manager’s phone number.”

Cassie rattled it off.

“We’ll get in touch with him,” the dispatcher said. “Please tell me what happened.”

“I’m a property manager and was checking one of our rentals and I heard scratching. It was a dog and he ran out of the closet and into the bathroom and when I followed him, I... I found an unconscious woman. You need to send someone, quick!”

Cassie hoped she was making sense, but adrenaline flooded her brain and jumbled her thoughts. She took a few steps into the main living area, hoping the peaceful view would ground her somehow. She glanced out the window...

And spotted a man heading toward the cabin carrying a shovel over his shoulder.

She dropped to the floor, clutching the little dog.

“Someone’s here,” she whispered into the phone.

“Who’s there?”

“A man, he’s coming toward the house with a shovel. What is he doing with a shovel? Oh my God, he dug a grave, he dug a grave and he’s going to bury her.”

“Ma’am, please stay calm.”

“I need to get out of here. I’ll leave the line open, but I can’t talk. And don’t talk to me because he might hear you.” She pocketed the phone and crouch-walked across the living room, carrying the dog under her arm like a pro quarterback clutching a football.

She swallowed her panic, her fear. Maybe he wasn’t a killer preparing to dispose of a body. Maybe he was with maintenance doing a little grounds work. No, he wasn’t in a dark green uniform. He wore jeans, a black T-shirt and a leather jacket.

Cassie needed out of here. She needed to get safe. Glancing at the kitchen counter, she eyed her keys lying beside her bag. Just as she started toward them she heard the rattling at the back door. He was there, trying to get in. She’d locked him out, which meant he knew someone was inside.

She was inside.

And if she reached for her keys now, he’d see her for sure.

Dread gripped her chest. She was next.

She counted to three. Calmed her breathing.

She hadn’t survived a childhood fraught with illness to become a victim of random violence. She had things to do and places to explore, places on the other side of the world that she’d promised herself she’d visit once her health stabilized.

She stroked the dog’s soft fur, which both helped keep him quiet and calmed her fear.

The door rattled. More violently this time.

Maybe the police would get here before he broke in. Maybe—

A crash was followed by a click and footsteps.

Cowering in the entryway, she heard floorboards squeak as he crossed the room. The sound of keys scraping against the kitchen counter sent a shudder of fear down her spine.

He’d found her keys. He knew she was still here.

She had seconds until...

The pounding of footsteps sprinted toward the bedroom. Of course, where he thought he’d find Cassie, the intruder, potential witness to murder.

This was her chance.

She slid open the side window and climbed through, still clinging to the dog. Only then did she realize taking care of Dasher was keeping her somewhat sane.

Once outside, she sprinted in the opposite direction of the master bedroom, assuming the guy might come looking for her.

If only she could escape in her car, but that was impossible without her keys. She focused on her breathing, taking slow, calming breaths.

The dog released a quick bark. “No, Dasher, no bark.”

She spotted a trail up ahead leading to the next property, about half a mile away.

Half a mile. She could do it. She wouldn’t be the victim of circumstance, a victim of “wrong place, wrong time.” There were so many things she had yet to accomplish, things she ached to experience.

Like love.

As she ran steadily, the dog flopping in her arms, she scolded herself for losing focus and thinking about such trivialities. Yet with danger barreling down on her, she was haunted by her biggest fear: she would never experience romantic love.

Because her childhood illness had left her so damaged that no one would want her.

Knock it off, she mentally scolded herself. This kind of thinking would not keep her alive.

She made it to the trail and clenched her jaw with determination, thinking what a great story she’d be able to tell her friends when this was over. When she was safe.

Towering trees reached for the sky on either side of her; the trail was well worn and easy to navigate. Which meant if she could navigate it, so could Shovel Man. She glanced over her shoulder. Didn’t see anything.

She turned back to the trail. Increased her speed.

A few minutes later he called out to her. “Hey! Stop!”

He knew she was there, running for her life. She skidded as she took a sharp turn, but caught herself and managed not to slide over the edge into the abyss below.

She peeked to her right, down into the steep drop, and it gave her an idea. If she could find a way down at the next turn, her pursuer might think she’d continued on the trail. Yes, that’s it.

Somehow she needed to disappear, and quickly. She uncoiled her scarf from around her neck and wrapped the dog in it, then secured him against her chest. Thank God he was a little guy, probably seven pounds soaking wet. This was not something she could do with a golden retriever like Fiona, her sister’s dog.

“Let’s go, Dasher.” Cassie peered over the edge. She needed to stay out of sight only until police arrived. “Emergency, this is Cassie McBride,” she said, speaking into the phone, still in her shirt pocket. “I’m climbing down the mountain to a safe spot, out of view.”

“Is the perpetrator following you?”

“Yes, I think so. I’m about a quarter of a mile south of the cabin. Send help.” She eyed the perfect spot to grab a tree root and lower herself.

“Deep breathing, doggie,” she coached, as if the dog understood her. She grabbed the tree root jutting out from the mountainside, and lowered herself until she found a firm rock on which to plant her feet. The next step would be landing on a small ledge, about ten feet below.

“Just like REI,” she said, referring to a rock-climbing class she’d taken months ago.

She took a slow, deep breath. She could do this.

With a grunt, she edged her right foot onto a thick tree branch sticking out from the mountain wall. She reached for another branch to hold on to.

The branch beneath her foot snapped.

And she dropped.

* * *

Police Chief Nate Walsh had a firm grip of one end of the stretcher, and Eddie Monroe had the other. As a search-and-rescue volunteer, a sense of satisfaction gave Nate the added strength necessary to make the final trek down the mountain carrying the injured woman.

It was a good thing they got to her when they did, since it would be dark soon. Darkness would have made the mission more challenging, even though her injuries weren’t life-threatening.

Although some folks in town had expected him to give up his SAR work when he was named police chief last year, helping people, saving them from the dangers of the wild, gave Nate a sense of control over the random chaos of life.

Random, like his partner’s death nearly four years ago on the Chicago PD. Perhaps if Nate had known where Dean’s head was at he’d still be alive, along with the witness Dean had been protecting.

The witness Dean had fallen in love with.

If Nate had only known, he would have convinced his partner to not let something like love cloud his judgment and ruin his career. Which was probably why his partner decided not to share.

Sometimes people considered Nate’s firm opinions as judgmental, yet he was about protecting family and friends. Besides, Nate wouldn’t be arrogant enough to pass judgment, since he was far from perfect.

These days he’d strive to be as close to perfect as possible for the citizens of Echo Mountain. Volunteering for SAR kept him connected with his community, even if some of these folks wondered how he had the time given his chief duties.

He and Eddie carried the wounded hiker, a twentysomething female named Sylvia, to the command center where an emergency vehicle waited.

“Thanks, thanks, everyone,” Sylvia said. “Thanks, Chief.”

“You’re welcome. Take care of yourself.”

“Chief,” SAR volunteer Luke Winters said. “Dispatch needs you to call in.”

“Thanks.” He shook hands with a few of the volunteers and went to his truck. When he’d taken over as chief, he’d directed dispatch to give him immediate updates on criminal activity calls, however minor. Kids in a small town had a tendency to grow bored and get into mischief.

He fired up his truck and pulled away from the command center, grateful for the successful mission. Another life saved.

“Dispatch, this is Chief Walsh, over.”

“Sir, there’s been a 911 call reporting a wounded, possibly dead body, and the female witness says the killer is still on the premises, over.”

Adrenaline rushed through his bloodstream. “Address?”

“We’re looking it up, over.”

“The witness couldn’t tell you?” What kind of fruitcake didn’t know where she was?

“She had directions, but no address. She works for Echo Mountain Rentals, over.”

Nate’s blood ran cold. Cassie worked for Echo Mountain Rentals. Cassie, his best friend’s sister with the sparkling blue eyes and a contagious smile.

“Did the caller give you her name?”

“Cassie McBride.”

Nate gripped the radio so hard he thought it might crack in his hand.

“I need that address, over,” he said.

“One minute, over.”

He didn’t have a minute. A sweet, lighthearted young woman who looked at the world through a veil of optimism was in trouble. Cassie trusted too easily and believed in the goodness of all and the glory of God.

She hadn’t been tainted by life’s tragedies, and wouldn’t be able to cope with a crisis, much less a violent perp.

“The address?” Nate snapped, pulling onto Highway Two.

“5427 Reflection Pass Drive. We still have an open line to her phone, over.”

“Patch it through, over,” he said.

“Yes, sir, over.”

“Alert all available officers. Did you dispatch an ambulance, over?”

“Yes, sir, over.”

Nate gripped the steering wheel with his left hand and held on to the radio with his right. Coordinates indicated he was about five minutes out.

Hang on, Cassie. I’m coming.

What was she doing up there at this time of night? She should be relaxing in her apartment above the tea shop with a good book, not working. Then he remembered why she’d taken a second, part-time job with the rental company: to earn money for travel.

The thought of her traveling alone didn’t sit well with Nate or her big brother, Aiden. If she could stumble into trouble in her own hometown, Nate shuddered to think what could happen to her in a foreign country.

But she wasn’t gone, not yet. She was in danger right here in Echo Mountain. Nate pressed down on the accelerator and flipped the lights. It might get folks talking, but he didn’t care.

All he cared about was getting to Cassie. Making sure she was okay.

His phone rang, and he recognized Aiden’s number.

“Chief Walsh,” he answered.

“Sorry to bother you, but my little sister was supposed to stop by Mom’s and she’s late and hasn’t called.”

“I’m heading up to Reflection Pass now.”

“Reflection Pass? Why?”

“Cassie called 911,” Nate said.

“What’s wrong? Is she okay?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I get to her. Just hang tight.”

“Where is she? I’m coming.”

Just then, sounds from Cassie’s phone echoed over the radio.

“I’ve gotta go.” Nate ended the call. He held his breath as he listened.

“Deep breathing, doggie,” Cassie’s gentle voice whispered through the radio.

Nate’s fingers wrapped tighter around the steering wheel.

“Just like REI,” she said.

He realized she was climbing down the mountain to get away from danger.

“Cassie, no,” he ground out. She didn’t have proper gear and wasn’t a seasoned climber.

A few seconds later, a soft shriek echoed through his car. His heart pounded against his chest. What happened? Did she fall?

“Where did you go?” a male voice called.

The perp was there? Stalking her? Nate slammed his palm against the steering wheel.

“Cassie McBride?” the man called.

How did he know her name? Nate grabbed the radio. “Dispatch, how close are the patrol cars to Reflection Pass Drive, over?”

“About a minute out, over.”

“Tell them to hit the sirens.”

“Copy that.”

A woman’s moan floated across the inside of his truck. He glanced at the radio, then back at the road. Two minutes; he had to be only two minutes out.

“Is that you down there?” a man said.

Nate flipped on his siren and floored it.

The next few minutes were a blur. It took all of Nate’s self-control to keep the panic from turning him into a raving lunatic. He reined in his temper. Locals had been worried about giving the chief’s position to a thirtysomething like Nate, from a big city. Folks didn’t think he had the patience for being chief of a small town.

He was determined to prove them wrong. Echo Mountain had become his home. He’d moved here three years ago to support his sister and her teenage son. He’d been absent from their lives far too long, playing protector for the rest of the world. He’d been pretty good at it, until he’d failed Dean.

He would not fail Cassie.

As he pulled onto Reflection Pass Drive, two patrol cars turned the corner up ahead. Nate sped toward the house, parking behind Cassie’s little red car. He whipped his door open and motioned to officers James “Red” Carrington and Ryan McBride. “Red, search the house. McBride, you’re with me.”

Nate hoped that seeing her cousin Ryan McBride might comfort Cassie. Red drew his weapon and entered the house.

Nate grabbed rope from his trunk, then called dispatch. “I need the last known location for Cassie McBride, over.”

“Quarter of a mile south of the cabin, over.”

The ambulance peeled up the driveway and the paramedics hopped out; one was Cassie’s cousin, and Ryan’s sister, Maddie McBride.

“Wait until Officer Carrington gives the all clear.” Nate took off toward the trail, Officer McBride right behind him.

Nate withdrew his firearm. The guy still had to be here, right? Jogging up the trail, Nate steadied his breath, occasionally glancing over the edge. She could be anywhere down there.

The trail forked, and Nate pointed for Officer McBride to go left. Nate continued another few minutes.

The sound of a barking dog echoed from below. Nate knelt to look over the edge.

“Cassie! Cassie, you down there?”

The barking intensified, but there was no response from Cassie.

Had the guy climbed down there and...

Nate would not allow himself to go there. He holstered his gun and secured the rope around a tree trunk nearby. He had to get down there and make sure she was okay.

Because if she wasn’t...

Something slammed against Nate’s back and he lurched forward, over the edge.


TWO (#ulink_74845200-b617-529c-a615-e5f88e045ec7)

Nate had experienced his share of falls, and that experience taught him how to survive even in impossible situations. As he tumbled off the trail gripping the rope he’d secured to the trunk, his back smacked against the mountain wall. He clenched his jaw against the pain. He glanced up, but didn’t see his attacker peering over the edge.

“McBride!” he called out to his junior officer, as Nate clung precariously to the rope.

Silenced echoed back at him. He planted his boots against the mountain wall and lowered himself. A few seconds later, a splash of bright blue caught his eye below, in contrast to the rich green surroundings.

Cassie. It had to be. She usually wore bright colors, much like her bright personality.

Totally inappropriate time to be thinking about her fashion choices, Nate.

“Cassie?” he said, getting closer.

Nothing. He released the rope and dropped to the ledge. He was desperate to check on Cassie, but needed to alert his men.

“This is Chief Walsh,” he said into the radio. “The perpetrator is still on the premises, over.”

“Are you okay, over?” Red said.

“Affirmative. McBride, check in, over.”

Silence.

“Red, we need backup. Call County, over.”

“Ten-four.”

Although Ryan McBride was an exceptional police officer, Nate worried that the perp had surprised and attacked Ryan before coming after Nate.

The dog growled, protective of the woman he guarded.

Nate knelt beside Cassie. “Good dog. Now let me have a look.”

She lay on her side, unconscious. “Cassie?”

He hesitated before checking her pulse. Don’t be stupid. She’s a young, healthy woman. A fall like this wouldn’t kill her.

Pressing his fingers against her neck, he caught himself wanting to ask God for a favor, not for Nate, of course, because he knew better, but for Cassie.

Her pulse tapped steadily against his fingertips. He took a deep breath. With a trembling finger, he trailed golden-blond strands of hair off her cheek. Redness discolored her head above her right eye, but he didn’t see any lacerations. He wished she’d open her eyes.

“Chief, what’s your twenty, over?” Red asked.

“About a quarter mile south of the cabin off the trail on the right. We’ll need SAR to lift Cassie McBride off a ledge, over.”

“Aiden McBride is already here, over.”

“Of course he is,” Nate muttered to himself. “What about Officer McBride?” he said into the radio.

“He hasn’t checked in, over.”

“Be on the lookout, over.”

“Ten-four.”

Nate glanced across the mountain range. The sun had already started its descent. He wanted to get Cassie off this ledge so they wouldn’t have to do this in the dark.

“Am I in trouble?”

He snapped his attention to her. “You’re conscious.”

“Disappointed, huh?” she teased.

Nate ripped his gaze from her adorable face. “This isn’t funny.”

“No, it most certainly is not. I was just doing my job and found a body. Is she dead? Please tell me she’s not dead. At first I thought maybe she just collapsed and hit her head. I’ve passed out before from not remembering to eat.”

Her nonstop chatter convinced Nate she was okay. “Cassie, take a breath.”

Cassie and Nate couldn’t be more different. While many thought of Nate as a reserved enigma, Cassie was bubbly and upbeat. Her brother, Nate’s friend Aiden, said she’d drive any man crazy with her constant questions and observations about life, especially a man like Nate.

Drive him crazy? Sometimes, yet other times he enjoyed the pleasant sound of her voice.

“You’re angry with me,” she said.

“I’m not angry.”

“You seem angry. Why, because I’m down here? I was only trying to get away.” She hesitated. “That man, there was a man.”

“It’s okay, he’s not here now. You’re safe.”

“He was carrying a shovel and broke into the house and—”

“Cassie.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here and your brother’s on his way with rescue gear.”

She sighed. “Great, Aiden and his lectures. Look, I’m fine.” She sat up and winced, gripping her head. “This must be what a hangover feels like.”

Of course, she wouldn’t know firsthand because she never drank, unlike Nate, who at one point found himself using alcohol to ease the sting of grief and the bitter taste of shame.

That was another reason he didn’t like spending too much time around Cassie—he worried he’d somehow sully her goodness.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said.

He snapped his attention to her, trying to read her expression. Was she teasing? Because he knew he often came off like a jerk, abrupt and cold.

She watched him, as if waiting for him to respond to her comment.

He had no response, fearing if he opened his mouth he’d give her a lecture about being out so late alone.

“Are you okay?” she said.

Something snapped.

“Am I okay?”

The dog jumped into her lap, and she stroked its fur. “Yeah, you look more worried than usual, and your shirt’s torn and you’re clenching your fist like you want to hit a punching bag at Bracken’s Gym. So it’s logical to ask if you’re okay, not that you consider my questions logical but—”

“No, Cassie, I’m not okay,” he interrupted. “What were you thinking coming out here so late?”

“It’s only eight o’clock.”

“But by yourself without protection?”

“What, like a bodyguard?” She smiled.

Which only frustrated him more.

“It’s Echo Mountain,” she said. “Besides, I have pepper spray in my bag, not that I could get to it because it was on the counter and I was hiding in the front hallway.”

“Pepper spray?” he said.

“Yeah.”

“You think pepper spray is going to protect you from guys like this?”

“Guys like what? I don’t even know who he was.”

“Well, he knows you.” He immediately regretted his words when her face went white.

“How is that possible?” she said.

“Didn’t you hear him calling your name from above?”

She shook her head. “How did you hear him?”

“You left your phone on. Dispatch put it through. Speaking of which, give me your phone.” He stuck out his hand.

The dog dived between Nate and Cassie, frantically barking.

“It’s okay, Dasher,” Cassie said. “He’s not really angry. That’s just Chief Walsh.” She restrained the dog with one hand and gave Nate her phone with the other.

“Dispatch, this is Chief Walsh. I’m with Cassie McBride. Rescue is on the way. I’m closing the line, over.” He handed it back to her.

“If you give me a boost I can climb back up and save search-and-rescue from having to come get me.”

“I’d rather you relax until they arrive.”

“This is silly.” She struggled to stand.

Since she wasn’t going to listen to him, Nate reached out to steady her. That’s when he noticed the blood smearing her sleeve.

“Cassie, did you touch the body in the cabin?”

“Only to feel for a pulse, why?”

“You’ve got blood on your jacket.” He motioned to her sleeve.

“Oh, wow, I didn’t see that before. You’d think I would have noticed, especially since it’s so...bright.” Her legs buckled.

Nate caught her as she went down, the dog wedged between them. He lowered her to the ground and examined the wound. It wasn’t bad, yet it had caused her to pass out. Concerned, he ran his hands over her clothes searching for other wounds, but found none.

Then he remembered her reaction when her brother had suffered a knife wound last year.

“Can’t handle the sight of blood,” he said under his breath.

It was okay; she was okay. He examined her wound closer. The four-inch gash didn’t look deep. She probably snagged her arm on a sharp branch on her descent.

He pulled gauze from the earlier rescue out of his jacket and wrapped her wound as the dog hovered close by. They hadn’t even discussed how she’d ended up with the dog. He knew she didn’t own a dog, because it would interfere with her travel plans. Which meant she’d rescued a dog while being stalked by a killer and rappelled down the side of a mountain with the pup in her arms. This woman was...

“Nate, the team’s here,” Aiden called from above.

“Great!” Nate called back.

* * *

Cassie awoke in an ambulance, confused and worried.

“Where’s Dasher?” she asked her cousin Madeline, the EMT.

“Who?”

“My dog.”

“You don’t have a dog.”

“I had him on the ledge with me. What happened to him? You didn’t just let him go, did you? He could get eaten by wild animals or—”

“I didn’t do anything but tend to the laceration on your arm and check your vitals. You were passed out cold. Didn’t even wake up when they strapped you to a litter and lifted you up the mountain.”

“I need to find Dasher.”

“Cassie—”

“Please Madeline, I need to find him!”

“Calm down. I’ll have Rocky call and check on the dog, okay?”

Cassie nodded, unsure why she was freaking out about a little dog that wasn’t even hers. But there was something about him—his protectiveness and vulnerability—that made her feel connected to the terrier mix.

Then there was the way Chief Walsh interacted with Dasher, how Nate’s tone softened when he praised the dog for protecting Cassie.

Good dog. Now let me have a look.

She’d heard him speak, although she thought she was dreaming at the time. Then she cracked open her eyes and saw Chief Walsh’s intense expression studying her. With a gentle touch, he brushed hair off her face. Who would have guessed such a hardened man could be so caring?

She blinked away a tear. She was being ridiculous, yet the truth was she’d felt safe when he touched her. All the trepidation that flooded her system had dissolved in the very instant she felt the warmth of his fingertips against her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” Madeline asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re crying.”

“Allergies.”

“Cassie,” Madeline said in that motherly tone, the tone everyone in Cassie’s family used when speaking to her.

That’s why she needed to get out of town, to explore other places in the world where people didn’t know her as Baby McBride with the strange autoimmune disease.

“Cassie?” Madeline pressed.

“I’m fine,” she said, closing her eyes.

“You’re not fine. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Finding a dead body—”

Cassie’s eyes popped open. “So she was dead?”

“You didn’t know?”

Cassie shook her head.

“I’m sorry.” Madeline patted Cassie’s shoulder.

It was just the beginning, Cassie thought, the beginning of her family and friends smothering her until she could no longer breathe.

God, please help me cope.

She suspected all the prayer in the world wouldn’t change the way people looked at her: like a fragile doll, a sick little girl who could barely manage on her own. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore, and she’d outgrown her illness, although the technical term was remission.

That fact wouldn’t change the way people treated her. She decided to take the offensive.

“Have you assessed my injuries?” she asked her cousin.

“Your arm will need a few stiches, and the ER doc will probably order a CT scan of your head.”

“I didn’t hit my head.”

“You might not remember hitting your head, but you’re exhibiting symptoms of head trauma.”

“Like what?”

“Obsessing over a random dog.”

“An orphaned dog.”

“And you’re anxious.”

“Rocky’s driving too fast.”

Madeline shook her head and bit back a smile. “Rocky, this is base, over,” a voice said over the radio.

“Go ahead.”

“Chief Walsh has the dog, over.”

“You hear that, Cassie?” Rocky said over his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Okay?” Madeline said.

Cassie nodded and closed her eyes, wanting to avoid arguing with her cousin. She’d save her energy because she knew there’d be more discussion, more arguments about her choices today as she defended herself to her mother, older brother, sister and whoever else jumped on the “help Cassie” bandwagon.

She thought about her bank account, now up to two thousand dollars and change. It wasn’t enough to support herself for six months to a year overseas, even if she stayed in hostels. After tonight’s fiasco, she might lose the awesome-paying property manager job. At the very least, her family would forbid her from going anywhere by herself for a while.

They reached the hospital, and Rocky and Madeline wheeled Cassie inside. Once transferred to an ER bed, Madeline slid the curtain closed.

“The doctor will be here shortly. I think Dr. Rush is on duty. You’ll like her,” Madeline said.

“I need to speak with Chief Walsh.”

“Oh yeah?” Maddie said with a raised eyebrow.

“Stop fooling around. It’s important.”

“I think he’s at the cabin managing the investigation into the woman’s death.”

“Oh, right.” Cassie wanted to call and give him a description of Shovel Man. She reached into her pocket. “Where’s my phone? Can you check the ambulance?”

“Sure, if you promise to stay here and wait for the doctor.”

“As opposed to going dancing?”

“See? Sarcastic. That’s not like you, which is why I suspect a head injury. So relax. I’ll be right back.”

Cassie laid her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. She knew she didn’t have a serious head injury, and was upset that her cousin wasn’t listening to her. Cassie needed to call Chief Walsh and describe the man who’d stalked her. She could still picture those heavy eyebrows and thin lips. He reminded her of Mr. Gruner, a curmudgeon who used to yell at Cassie and her friends whenever they’d pass by his boat at the Emerald Lake Pier. They were terrified of him, until the day he saved Izzy Bingham. No one knew Izzy couldn’t swim. After the save, the kids had changed their opinions of Mr. Gruner. He was just lonely, not mean.

She had a feeling Shovel Man didn’t fall into that same category.

A shiver snaked down her arms. She slipped into her jacket to get warm. The more agitated she appeared, the more her family would close ranks and suffocate her. She had to show them she was strong, healthy and capable, that she wasn’t that sick little girl anymore.

The curtain slid open.

“Did you find it?” she said, assuming it was Madeline.

“I’m here to take you for a CT scan,” a male voice said.

“Oh, okay.”

She opened her eyes, but he stood behind her as he pushed her bed out of the examining area.

“I was hoping you were my cousin with my phone,” she said.

“Nope, sorry.”

“How long does a CT scan take?”

“Not long.”

She knew they wouldn’t find anything, but she couldn’t fault the doctor for being cautious. They entered the elevator, and he pressed the button for the bottom floor.

“How did you get injured?” he said.

She glanced at the orderly, who wore a surgical mask. A surgical mask?

“I’ve got a cold,” he said in explanation.

Yet even behind the mask she recognized the thick eyebrows of the man who’d been carrying the shovel.

The elevator doors closed.


THREE (#ulink_509d374f-57f2-5a4f-81b5-84fa076a63a1)

Cassie was alone with the killer.

A ball of fear rose in her chest.

No, she wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

She had nothing with which to defend herself, nor did she have her phone to call for help. But she was a smart woman and would use her best weapons: her wits and her words.

She took a quick breath for strength. Wait, she remembered she had her emergency house keys in her side pocket. Locking herself out last month had become a blessing after all. She launched into chatter mode to distract him.

“I can’t believe they want a CT scan,” she started. “I told them I didn’t hit my head. I can see just fine and I know my own name.”

“So what happened?”

“I’m a klutz. I fell off a trail. Can you believe that?” She deftly reached into her jacket to palm the keys. “I mean, I’ve lived here forever and Dad used to take us hiking, and you’d think I’d be an expert with all my experience, but I wasn’t paying attention and went over the side of the mountain. Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Why weren’t you paying attention?” he asked.

She slipped the keys between her fingers, thinking she could jab him in the eye if necessary. “I was scared,” she said.

“Of what?”

“I’d found an unconscious woman at a rental house and there was all this blood.” She shuddered.

“Was she dead?”

“I have no idea, but me and blood? Not a good mix. Last year my brother was attacked by a guy with a knife and there was blood everywhere, all over the kitchen, and I completely freaked out. I guess that’s what happened today. I took off and lost my footing and fell off the trail. Quite embarrassing if you think about it.”

She hoped she could convince him she hadn’t seen his face at the cabin. She certainly didn’t want to get into hand-to-key combat.

She clutched the keys tighter. “Have you ever done anything dumb? It would make me feel a whole lot better if you had.”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

The doors opened and he wheeled her out of the elevator. Jumping off and running didn’t seem like the best plan, since he was much taller than Cassie and therefore a lot faster. She strategized her next move as she chatted away.

“I’m going to get a huge lecture from my family, but what else is new?” she said, laying it on thick. “I’m the flaky one. This won’t surprise them one bit. The woman probably fell and hit her head, yet I freaked and tore off like a scared cat. Oh well, at least I wasn’t totally irresponsible, because I called 911 for help.”

She pretended to be relaxed, not easy considering Shovel Man’s hands were pushing her from behind—hands of a killer hovering dangerously close to her throat.

Dear Lord, give me wisdom and courage to know how to convince this man he does not have to take another life.

My life.

That’s when she spotted a fire alarm on the wall. Perfect.

She suddenly sat up and sniffed. “Wait, do you smell that?”

“What?”

“I smell smoke!” She hopped off the bed and yanked the alarm.

She took off running and glanced over her shoulder. Shovel Man stood there with a quizzical frown.

“Hurry!” she shouted. She had to keep up the pretense that she thought he was an orderly, not a killer.

Staff rushed out of rooms and flooded the hallway, puzzling over the alarm. Shovel Man was no doubt puzzled, as well. But at least she was away from him.

She shot another quick glance behind her.

He’d disappeared.

Relief settled in her chest, but only for a second. If he could disappear that quickly, he could reappear just as fast. Or worse, what if he was working with a partner who was waiting outside in a car to whisk Cassie away? Shovel Man could have given his partner Cassie’s description: short with blond hair, wearing a bright blue jacket.

As she marched toward the exit, she shucked her jacket, wincing in pain from her injured arm.

Once outside, she tossed the jacket onto a bench and practically sprinted into the parking lot.

But where should she go? She didn’t know which of these strangers she could trust, and didn’t have her phone to call for help.

Across the parking lot she spotted the one place she knew she’d be safe, Nate’s truck. Which meant he had to be close. Scanning the parking lot, she didn’t see Nate, only frantic employees and patients being herded out of the north side of the building.

Feeling badly about causing the commotion, she waved down an orderly who was arriving for work. “It’s a false alarm. I pulled it because someone’s after me. Tell them they don’t have to evacuate the building!”

She ran off, hoping he’d relay the message before too many patients were inconvenienced. Head down, she motored toward Nate’s truck and tried the door, but it was locked. She climbed into the flatbed. It seemed like the best place to hide.

Truth was, she felt safe because it was Nate’s truck. Eventually he’d have to return to it, and he’d find her.

The reality of what just happened shot a chill down her spine: Cassie had faced off with a suspected killer. Her hands started trembling, then her arms and legs. She gasped for breath, determined to stay conscious.

* * *

Nate shoved down the panic threatening to pull him off course.

Cassie was missing.

He clenched his jaw and retraced her steps through the hospital, hoping to find a clue as to where she’d gone.

Hoping to find her safe and sound in a hospital room.

Instead, it was like she’d vanished in the mist.

The hospital alarm suddenly clicked off. Through the ominous silence, his fear grew louder, more insistent: She’s been taken against her will. She’s been killed and her body will be found in a laundry bin.

He had to stop these torturous thoughts and think like a detective–turned–chief of police.

“Why’d the alarm go off?” he asked into his radio.

“I’m checking, sir.”

Nate had locked down the cabin crime scene, called the lab tech and brought Officer Ryan McBride to the hospital to get checked out. He’d been assaulted and suffered a head wound. Nate assumed from the guy who shoved him off the trail.

Anyone could have driven McBride into town, but Nate wanted to check on Cassie.

“Apparently it was a false alarm, over,” Red called through the radio.

“How do you know that?” Nate asked.

“A staff member encountered the woman who pulled the alarm.”

“Why would she—” Instinct struck him square in the chest. “What did this woman look like?”

“Blond, short, twenties.”

“Where did he see her?”

“Back entrance, heading into the parking lot.”

Nate rushed to the exit, wondering if Cassie had pulled the alarm because she’d been in trouble.

“Should we continue checking the lower level?” Red asked.

“No, meet me in the back parking lot. And bring the employee who spoke with her.”

“Copy that.”

Nate jogged outside, navigating the sea of staff members headed back into the hospital. What made Cassie pull the alarm?

He scanned the parking lot for her wavy blond hair. Had she changed into a hospital gown, or was she still wearing her electric blue jacket? That would make her easy to spot.

Out of the corner of his eye, a pop of blue caught his attention. He went to a nearby bench and picked up Cassie’s jacket.

“Chief?”

Nate glanced to his left. Red and an orderly approached.

“This is Kevin Wright, the man who spoke with the woman who pulled the alarm,” Red introduced.

Nate pulled out his phone and found a picture of Cassie and Aiden taken at the Christmas Lights Festival last year. He flashed the image at the orderly. “Is this the woman you spoke with?”

“Yes sir.”

“When did you see her?” Nate asked.

“About ten minutes ago.”

“What did she say to you, exactly?”

“That she pulled the alarm because someone was after her.”

Nate’s fingers dug into the down-filled jacket. “Who was after her?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Where was she going?”

“She took off into the parking lot.” He pointed. “That way.”

“Thank you.” Nate dismissed the orderly and pulled Red aside. “Put out a BOLO on Cassie McBride. See how fast a few of the guys can get here to help search the woods bordering the parking lot.”

“You think he dumped her body—”

“Call Spike and Harvey,” Nate cut him off.

“What about SAR?”

“Too many personal connections.”

“You mean Aiden and Bree?”

“Let’s leave them out of this for now.”

“I think it’s too late for that.” Red nodded at Aiden, who sprinted toward them.

“What happened?” Aiden demanded.

“Cassie is missing,” Nate said.

“Wait, what? How is that possible?”

“Officer Carrington, continue the search.”

“Yes, sir.”

Nate turned back to Aiden. “She hasn’t been gone that long. It appears that she felt threatened, pulled the fire alarm and ran.”

“She ran?” Aiden’s voice pitched.

With a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder, Nate said, “We’ll start by searching the woods bordering the hospital. Knowing Cassie, if she was in danger she would have taken off, but perhaps didn’t think it through to the end.”

“She never does. She’s so impulsive sometimes.” Aiden’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Mom.”

“We don’t need more frantic people down here, Aiden. Let’s focus on finding Cassie and then you’ll call her back with good news, okay?”

Aiden nodded and paced a few steps away. “Hey, Mom. I have to call you back...in the middle of something. Soon, love you, bye.” Aiden turned to Nate. “She knows something’s up.”

“Let’s get to work. I’ve got a flashlight in my truck.”

“Yeah, okay,” Aiden said, dazed with worry about his sister. “I’ll get mine, too.”

Nate walked away, proud of himself for holding it together in front of his friend. He had no choice. As police chief, folks depended on him to be the grounding force in a crisis, and usually he excelled in that role.

Today was different. Someone was after Cassie. He never should have let her go to the hospital alone. He should have stayed with her, protected her. Right, and how ridiculous was that considering he had a potential murder on his hands?

He struggled to bury his concern and not let anyone see the utter panic tearing at his insides. But as he approached his truck, the bottled-up frustration got the better of him. He slammed his palm against the quarter panel.

A woman’s cry echoed back at him.

Nate froze, his heart pounding.

Leaning forward, he peered into the flatbed. Cassie blinked her bloodshot, terrified eyes.

“You’re in my truck,” he said.

“D-d-disappointed?” She broke into a round of shivers.

He grabbed a blanket from the backseat and climbed into the flatbed beside her. As he gently covered her body, a wave of calm washed over him. She was okay. For now.

“Aiden!” He motioned to his friend who’d gone to get a flashlight. “Over here!”

“I knew you’d come.”

Nate snapped his attention to Cassie. “What happened? Why did you run?”

“A guy...in the hospital...the guy with the shovel...from the cabin.”

“Is it...?” Aiden stopped short and looked at her. “What are you doing in there?”

“Aiden,” Nate warned, wanting him to soften his tone. “She’s trembling.”

“Let’s take her inside,” Aiden said.

“Nooooo.” She clamped her hand around Nate’s forearm. “Not back in there.”

“Cassie, you need medical attention,” Aiden argued.

“That man got to me in there. I can’t go back.” Her pleading blue eyes tugged at Nate’s heart.

“She’s delirious. She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Aiden said.

“I am n-n-not!” she protested.

“Come on, I’ll help you out.” Aiden reached for her.

“Wait,” Nate said. “I’ve got another idea.”

* * *

Cassie couldn’t believe it. Nate had listened to her. He’d respected her fear of going back into the hospital and found an alternative.

Nate drove her to the urgent care, where Dr. Spencer was on duty. He was a good friend to both Nate and Aiden, and he’d done his share of triage with search and rescue. Cassie knew she wasn’t suffering from anything serious, but she did need medical attention for the gash in her arm.

Closing her eyes, she relaxed under the heated blanket in the examining room. She appreciated the warmth that finally drove the chill from her bones.

“Cassie?”

She blinked her eyes open. A frown creased Nate’s forehead.

“What’s wrong?” she said.

“I thought you passed out.”

“Why, because I stopped talking?” she joked.

Instead of smiling, he glanced down at his hands, holding his Echo Mountain PD cap. He seemed regretful, and she couldn’t understand why.

“Thanks,” she offered.

He looked at her. “For what?”

“Bringing me here. Listening to me, I guess. Not many people do that, especially not my brother.”

“I almost forgot.” He pulled her cell phone out of his jacket pocket. “Your cousin found it in the ambulance.”

“Awesome, thanks. Where is my bossy brother, anyway?”

“He went outside to call your mom.”

“Oh boy, now the whole town is going to know.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” Nate said.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“People will be on the lookout. They’ll keep an eye on you.”

“Right, because I’m so fragile and incapable of taking care of myself. They should consider the fact that I escaped this guy—” she hesitated “—twice, and the first time with a dog in my arms.” She sat up. “Speaking of which, what happened to Dasher?”

“Relax, your sister and my sister are fighting over custody.”

She sighed and lay back down. “Thanks, I’ll pick him up after I get out of here.”

“You should worry more about yourself than some scruffy dog.”

“I have lots of people to support me, but Dasher? He’s got no one. And besides, he’s not scruffy, he’s got character.”

She thought Nate smiled but couldn’t be sure.

The door slid open and Dr. Spencer poked his head into the room. “Sorry, had an emergency. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thanks,” Cassie said.

Dr. Spencer smiled and shut the door. Cassie glanced at Nate. “When my brother comes back, you can go. I know you should be figuring out what happened to the dead woman, instead of hanging around here.”

“Detective Vaughn is leading the investigation.”

“Why?”

“I delegate in order to keep a broader perspective on things. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but—” he pulled his stool close to Cassie’s bedside “—do you think you can identify the man carrying the shovel?”

“Absolutely, and I wanted to call you with that information, but I’d lost my phone.”

“I’ll try to get a forensic artist to come by tomorrow. Where will you be staying?”

“You know where my apartment is, over the tea shop.”

He straightened. “It would be wiser if you didn’t go back to your place for a few days. The perpetrator knows who you are.”

“I still don’t understand how.”

“Where’s your wallet?”

“Back at the cabin. Oh...so you think he went through my things?”

“It’s likely, yes.”

“But I did a good job of playing a daft property manager who runs from the sight of blood. I was pretty convincing that I didn’t see him at the cabin.”

“Cassie, he came after you in the hospital and knocked out the orderly who was supposed to take you to imaging.”

“Wait, what? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. That’s not the point.”

“I feel so bad since it’s my fault that—”

“Cassie, stop talking, just for one minute.”

She bit back more questions she wanted to ask about the injured orderly. At least she’d like his name so she could add him to her prayer list.

“We can’t take chances with your safety,” Nate said. “You need to be in the most protected environment possible until we solve this case.”

“Well, I could always leave the country. I have enough money saved to travel for a while, not as long as I’d originally intended, but a few months should work, right?”

Nate didn’t answer at first. He clenched his jaw and his green eyes darkened. “I’d rather you not.”

“You said I’m in danger here, so the most logical choice is to—”

He stood abruptly. “You’re a witness. I need you to stay in town.”

“Oh, okay.” She glanced at her fingers in her lap. Arguing with Nate was pointless. He was the police chief, after all, and his primary concern was the murder case, nothing more, nothing like...

He actually cared about Cassie.

Nope, Nathaniel Walsh was all business. He wanted to get his man, and Cassie was a means to that end.

“You’re upset with me,” he stated, studying her.

“I want to go home.”

“To your mother’s farm. Good idea.”

She cocked her chin. “When did I say that? I never said that.”

“But you agree that it’s a good idea?” He sat back down beside her.

“No, I don’t want to stay at the farm. Mom will hover and forbid me from leaving the house.”

“It’s probably a good idea to lie low for a while, stay at your mom’s and do your blogging stuff.”

“Hey, my blogging stuff doesn’t pay the bills. I’ve made a commitment to Echo Mountain Rentals and it’s good money.”

“Right, it’s about padding your getaway fund.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. You know what? Let’s not talk about this. What do you need?”

“Excuse me?”

“What can your primary witness do to help you solve this case?”

“You’re injured. I can conduct an interview tomorrow.”

She continued anyway. “He was about six feet tall, with thin lips and bushy eyebrows. Oh, and a bump on his nose, here.” She reached out to illustrate on Nate’s nose, but he jerked away, like she was contagious.

“Wow, okay.” She swallowed the hurt burning her throat and pointed to her own nose. “A bump right here. He’s got dark brown eyes and he smelled of something... I can’t put my finger on it, something pungent.”

“What did he say to you?” Nate pulled a small notebook out of his jacket pocket.

“I did most of the talking. Especially after I figured out who he was. I did my best flaky girl impression, and told him I ran away from the cabin because of the blood, then tripped and fell down a mountain.”

“You think he bought it?”

“He seemed to. I’m not dead.” The inappropriate comment awkwardly slipped out.

Nate’s fingers froze as he gripped the pen.

“Sorry, that was morbid,” she said.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about him?”

“No, sorry.”

He glanced up. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

In that moment she felt caught by something in his green eyes, something intense and sad. She struggled to form words.

“I... You... Thanks,” she uttered.

She didn’t like this feeling, a feeling of being derailed, yanked off course. It seemed to happen only when Chief Walsh was looking straight at her.

The door swung open. “How’s the patient?” Dr. Spencer asked, approaching her.

His presence ripped Cassie out of the intense moment with the chief. She smiled at the doctor and said, “Pretty good, considering.”

“Attitude is everything,” the cheerful doctor said. “Let’s stitch you up and send you home.”

Nate stood. “I’ll get her brother.”

“Wait,” she said. “Would you mind staying?” For some reason she didn’t feel overly judged by Nate, whereas every word that came out of Aiden’s mouth felt like a criticism.

“Are you sure?” Nate said.

“Yes, but you probably have to get back.”

“I’ve got a few minutes.” Nate offered to hold her hand for support.

She accepted the gesture, appreciating the warmth. As she focused on a spot across the room, the doctor raised the sleeve of her hospital gown and explained how he was numbing her arm in preparation for sutures.

A few minutes later she felt a tugging sensation, but no pain.

“Not so bad, right?” Dr. Spencer said.

She glanced at him. “That’s it?”

“Only needed ten stitches. A little more paperwork and you’re good to go.” He smiled.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the door.


FOUR (#ulink_df1f0641-ae67-5934-813f-05306b67734e)

Nate instinctively withdrew his firearm.

“Stay here,” he said to Spence.

As Nate tried to pull away from Cassie, she clung tighter to his hand. Her face had drained of color.

“You’re okay, Cassie, but I need to get out there and make sure everyone else is, too.”

With a reluctant nod, she let him go, and he rushed to investigate.

“Be careful,” she said.

He nodded, slid the door open and peered into the main area. It looked empty, as if staff had suddenly abandoned the urgent care. He left Cassie’s examining room and shut the door.

Taking a few steps toward a computer station, he hesitated. Whimpering echoed from below. He knelt and peeked beneath a desk. Two staff members, young women in their twenties, were huddled together, fear coloring their eyes.

“Where did the shot come from?” he whispered.

One of the women pointed toward the reception area.

Just then the reception door flew open. Aiden and a middle-aged woman stepped into the examining area with their hands raised. Someone was obviously behind them. Nate took cover beside the desk to better assess what he was dealing with. If he exposed himself now he could lose his weapon in exchange for sparing someone’s life. Without a weapon he had no control of the situation.

“She needs help now!” a male voice demanded. “Where’s the doctor?”

“I—I don’t know,” the woman beside Aiden said.

“How can you not know?”

“Hey, can’t we talk about this?” Aiden argued.

“Get down, facedown on the ground, and put your hands behind your head!”

Aiden must have hesitated, because another shot rang out and the two women beneath the desk shrieked.

“Okay, okay.” Aiden dropped to the floor and made eye contact with Nate.

The assailant placed his boot on Aiden’s back. “Now stay there. And you, get in a room!”

The front-end receptionist who’d entered with Aiden did as ordered.

If the guy would just move a few inches to the right Nate could get him from behind, the goal being to disarm him without the gun going off again.

“Where’s the doctor? The nurses? I heard them scream.”

The women under the desk eyed Nate. He shook his head, warning them off, not wanting to put more innocents in the line of fire.

The shooter turned. Nate saw the man’s reflection in an examining room window: the shooter was holding on to a young, barely conscious woman.

“Nurses, get out here!”

Nate got ready to take his shot.

A door slid open. “I’m Dr. Spencer.”

Nate froze. Spence was sacrificing his own safety to protect his patients and staff.

“What happened here?” Spence said calmly, as if the man wasn’t threatening him with a gun.

“She’s hurt, she’s hurt and needs help and they said I had to wait for a doctor, but we can’t wait!”

“I understand. Where is she hurt?”

As Spence engaged the shooter, Nate debated firing his weapon with so many innocents around. The last thing he wanted was to get into a heated exchange of gunfire.

He holstered his gun. The minute the perp’s gun was no longer aimed at Spence, or anyone else for that matter, Nate would make his move. He’d take the guy down, hopefully before he could get a shot off.

“She’s bleeding, can’t you see that?” the guy said.

“I can’t tell from this vantage point. How about we get her into a room?”

There were only three rooms: the receptionist was in one, an emergency patient in another, and Cassie in the third.

And hers was the closest.

“How did this happen?” Spence asked.

“Stop asking so many questions!” To drive home his point, the shooter pointed his weapon at the ceiling to fire off another shot.

Nate charged the guy from behind, the force making him release the injured woman. Distressed about letting her go, the guy lost his focus. Nate slammed the shooter’s fist against the wall and the gun sprang free, dropping to the floor. Nate swung the guy to the ground, pinned him with a knee to his back and zip-tied his wrists.

“You’ve gotta help her,” the man groaned.

Nate glanced at Aiden. “Help Dr. Spencer get the female victim into a room.”

Aiden got up off the floor and assisted Spence.

“Ladies hiding beneath the desk?” Nate said.

Their heads popped out.

“Call 911. I need backup.”

“I already did,” Cassie said from the doorway of her examining room.

On cue, the wail of sirens echoed from the parking lot.

“You okay?” Nate asked Cassie.

“Yep.”

Aiden approached Nate. “Doc says she’ll need to be transported to the hospital. It’s a gunshot wound.”

“It was an accident,” the perp said.

“You’re under arrest for reckless conduct and aggravated assault,” Nate said.

Red rushed into the examining area, gun drawn.

“Don’t need the weapon.” Nate stood, pulling the perp to his feet. “Take this guy to lockup.”

“Yes, sir.” Red led him away.

“Good job, Chief,” Aiden said.

“Thanks.” He glanced at Cassie. “Ready to go home?”

“Beyond ready.”

“I’ll take her to Mom’s,” Aiden offered.

“I don’t think she wants to stay at the farm,” Nate countered.

“It’s okay. I’ll go,” Cassie said.

Nate guessed that after what just happened, she was upset and could use the support of family.

“But...” Cassie hesitated. “Can you drive me, Chief?”

“Come on, Cassie,” Aiden said. “Nate has more important stuff to do.”

“It’s fine,” Nate said. “I’ll take her.”

* * *

When she’d asked him to drive her to Mom’s farm, she hadn’t expected the chief to hang around as long as he did. He’d been here over an hour.

Mom, who lived alone since Dad’s passing more than ten years ago, kept hammering him with questions about the dead woman, but he explained he couldn’t discuss an ongoing investigation. She’d even bribed him with food, but he declined, opting for coffee instead.

He had a long night ahead of him. Not only had Cassie found a dead body, but then she wouldn’t go back into the hospital, and ended up in the urgent care, where a man went nutty and shot up the place.

Her mom politely asked another question and Cassie jumped in for the save. “I think he needs a refill.”

Mom glanced at his mug. “Oh, of course.” She went into the kitchen to get the pot.

“I’m sorry,” Cassie said to Nate.

Nate glanced up from his mug. “For what?”

“I feel like I’m a trouble magnet.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The dead woman in the cabin, having to rescue me, Jesse James in the urgent care. You wouldn’t have been there at all if not for my fear of the hospital.”

“It was a good thing I was there or more people might have been seriously injured.”

She shrugged. Her mind still spun about everything that had happened...and in one night!

“Here we go,” her mom said, returning with the coffee. “We’re so glad you could stay and chat for a bit. I’m sure it makes Cassie feel less anxious to have the chief of police here. It’s important to keep her anxiety at a minimum.”

“It’s important to keep everyone’s anxiety at a minimum,” Cassie said.

“True, but we don’t want yours triggering an episode.”

Cassie shook her head, mortified. To have her illness mentioned in front of Nate made her feel broken and pitiful.

“Could I get some cream?” Nate asked Mom.

Not what kind of episode? Or how bad is Cassie’s issue with anxiety?

Her big brother had probably told Nate the whole ugly story.

“Of course.” Mom went back into the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” Cassie said to Nate. “You don’t have to stay.”

“But your mom said—”

“I’m fine.” She stood and paced to the front window. “I’m not going to freak out if you leave, and I haven’t had an episode since I was a teenager.”

“Oh, okay.”

She turned to him. He was staring into his coffee.

“Go ahead, ask,” she said.

He glanced up. “Ask what?”

“About my anxiety, my—” she made quote marks with her fingers “—episodes.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“You mean Aiden hasn’t told you?”

“No.”

“I’m shocked. Well, you should probably know since everyone else seems to. I had a childhood autoimmune disease,” she started, wandering back to the sofa. “Juvenile idiopathic arthritis. It’s hard to diagnose in kids since there’s no blood test for it. I’d be stiff in the morning, tired throughout the day, and not the most coordinated person on the planet. Aiden used to call me lazy bird. Since the symptoms would flare up and go away, it took a while to diagnose. Mom blames herself for not figuring it out sooner.”

“Wasn’t that the doctor’s responsibility?”

“Sure, but she was the one who took care of me, saw me wince when I’d get up in the morning. I’ve outgrown it, but Mom can’t see me as anything but that sick little girl.”

“She loves you. It’s her job to worry.”

“But not her job to shame me in front of people.”

“Shame you?”

“Telling you how my anxiety could trigger an episode? It’s like I have no control over my health, but I do. I follow an anti-inflammatory diet and get my share of exercise.”

“She might have some post-trauma issues related to your illness, Cassie. Try to see it from her point of view.”

“Here we go,” her mom said, breezing into the living room with cream for Nate’s coffee. “Sorry it took so long, but I was looking for an appropriate accompaniment to the coffee. I know you said you weren’t hungry, Chief, but I thought I’d tempt you anyway.” She placed a tray of pastries on the coffee table and sat on the sofa beside Cassie. “So, what are we talking about?”

Nate’s phone buzzed and he eyed the screen. “They need me.” He glanced at Cassie as if waiting for her permission to leave.

Cassie stood and motioned toward the door. “Thanks for bringing me home.”

“Wait,” her mom said. “Let me put some sweets in a container to take with you.”

Before he could respond, she’d dashed into the kitchen. Good old Mom, always feeding people to make them feel better.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked Cassie.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’m tough.”

* * *

The container of sweets on the seat beside him, Nate pulled away from the farmhouse. Glancing in the rearview, he couldn’t ignore the pit in his stomach.

Don’t worry about me.

Which was asking the impossible. Sure, the house had a new security system installed after the break-in last year, but the property was off the beaten path, and if Cassie and her mom needed emergency services it would take a good ten minutes to get to them.

A lot could happen in ten minutes.

Yet Nate couldn’t be in two places at once. They might not have a large staff at the Echo Mountain PD, but SAR had its share of former military. Nate decided to see if Harvey, retired security manager for Echo Mountain Resort, could watch the farmhouse.

Harvey answered on the second ring. “Hey, Chief, heard you’ve had a busy night.”

“Word gets around.”

“How’s Cassie McBride?”

“That’s why I’m calling. She’s staying at her mom’s temporarily and I was wondering—”

“I’d love to.”

“I haven’t asked the question yet.”

“You want me to keep an eye on Margaret and Cassie.”

“If you’ve got time.”

“Got plenty of that. Fishing trip was canceled so the timing is perfect. Besides, Margaret makes a dynamite cup of coffee.”

“That she does. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

“Roger that.”

Nate ended the call and pressed the speed dial for Cassie’s cell phone. It rang a few times and went to voice mail. He fought the urge to turn the truck around and speed back to the farmhouse. He was overreacting. Cassie must be away from her phone, or maybe she’d gone to bed. She’d looked exhausted.

“Hi, this is Cassie. I can’t take your call right now, but leave a message and I’ll call you back. Have a blessed day.” Beep.

“Cassie, it’s Chief Walsh. I’ve asked Harvey to stop by and check on you and your mom. I didn’t want you to be alarmed when he arrived.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else, something like everything was going to be fine, or how much he admired her for surviving a brutal childhood disease. “Okay, well, have a nice evening.” He ended the call.

Maintaining his professionalism was key with Cassie McBride. Wasn’t that why she called him Chief instead of Nate? It was a reminder to both of them that they didn’t have a personal relationship. No matter how often she pestered him with questions for her blog, or seemed to show up whenever he was hurt on the job, Nate would never cross that line, a line his partner had crossed, which had cost him.

It could put her life in danger if Nate lost focus because of his attraction to Cassie.

His attraction to Cassie? Whoa, where had that come from? Well, who wouldn’t be attracted to her? She was kind and engaging, independent and optimistic. Which made him wonder why she wasn’t in a serious relationship.

When Nate asked Aiden about Cassie’s social life, her brother said she blamed her family for scaring away suitors because they were so overprotective. Aiden countered that she was too picky—either that or she didn’t want to get involved because of her travel plans. No one in Cassie’s family approved of her taking off on her own to see the world. On one hand, Nate could understand why, yet he couldn’t fault her for wanting to explore life outside of Echo Mountain.

Fifteen minutes later, Nate arrived at Whispering Pines cabin to check in with Detective Sara Vaughn. Before he went inside, he glanced at a text message from Cassie: Thanks for sending Harvey. Mom is excited for more company. J

Nate texted back: Glad to help. He hit Send and considered sending another text, something like Have a good night or I’ll see you in the morning.

“I’m losin’ it,” he muttered and went into the cabin. He found Detective Vaughn conferring with a forensic specialist.

“Hey, Chief,” she greeted.

The forensic officer retreated into the bathroom where they’d found the body.

“Initial cause of death looks like blunt force trauma, but there were no defensive wounds, no sign of a struggle, no evidence he restrained her. Nothin’.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “So, what? She let him whack her head against the side of the tub? It makes no sense. We’ll know more once they get her on the table.”

“How about identification?”

“License reads Marilyn Brandenburg of Moscow, Idaho. We found an emergency number in her cell phone for a sister. I’ve called, but it keeps going to voice mail.”

“Did you find Cassie McBride’s purse on the premises?”

“There’s a purple bag on the kitchen counter, why?”

“The killer came after her at the hospital. I’m trying to figure out how he knew who she was since she claims he didn’t see her face.”

“Wait, so she saw him, called for help and took off with a dog in her arms?”

“That is correct. I’m wondering if the perp took her wallet, which was how he identified her.”

“I saw a wallet on the counter.”

Nate went to the kitchen where Cassie’s wallet, made from colorful duct tape, lay next to a bright purple bag. Cassie probably made the wallet herself, he mused. A few inches away he spotted a key chain with small charms: silver cross, flower, Union Jack flag, Eiffel Tower and kangaroo.

Fingering the keys made him wonder about the killer.

“Vaughn?” he called.

She popped her head out of the bedroom. “Sir?”

“Are we thinking the suspect escaped on foot? There were no cars in the area other than Cassie’s.”

“Someone spotted a black sedan at the Snoquamish trailhead. We’re looking into it,” Vaughn said.

“Good.” He redirected his attention to Cassie’s wallet.

He started to analyze the contents. Her round face smiled back at him from her driver’s license. The killer would only have to glance at the license to determine Cassie’s name and address.

Nate’s fingers dug into the plastic wallet.

The address on her license was the farmhouse.


FIVE (#ulink_57148e3f-09ba-5af2-b28f-7e291a91ec0a)

Cassie tossed and turned in bed. Couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t spent the night at the farmhouse in months. Being back here, staying in her old room, brought back memories of a darker time, a time when she felt weak and helpless.

As she glanced out the window at a familiar tree, memories rushed back, bringing with them the irrational and paralyzing fear of being stuck in bed for the rest of her life.

She hopped out of bed, put her fleece on over her pajamas and grabbed her phone. A sip of water would stop this line of thinking. It always had in the past.

Heading toward the stairs, the sound of voices drifted from the first floor. Her mom and Harvey were talking in the living room.

Cassie hesitated at the top of the stairs.

“You should try and go back to sleep,” Harvey said.

“I can’t. I keep thinking about my daughter finding a dead body. She must be traumatized,” her mom said.

“She’s a tough cookie, Margaret.”

“But she’s not talking about it, at least not to me. I don’t know what I ever did to put such distance between us. We were so close when she was a child.”

Cassie gripped the cherrywood railing. If only she could articulate how her mom’s overprotectiveness made Cassie feel like she couldn’t breathe. But she struggled to find the right words. She’d never want to come off as disrespectful, and she’d certainly never want to hurt Mom’s feelings.

“Kids go through awkward stages, then they grow out of it,” Harvey offered.

“Yeah, when they’re sixteen, not twenty-six,” her mom answered. “I wish she would open up. I could help.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to worry you.”

“Too late for that.”

A moment of silence, then, “How about some more coffee?” her mom offered.

“That would be great.”

“And cookies?”

“If you got ’em.”

“I always have cookies.”

Cassie could just imagine the wry smile playing across her mother’s lips. She was known as the “sweet queen,” the woman who baked every day, always trying out a new recipe.

Too bad Cassie didn’t inherit the baking gene. Her sister Bree seemed to get all the talent in that department.

Hearing her mom walk into the kitchen, Cassie decided to join Harvey in the living room. The sixtysomething former security manager, with a crewcut and kind blue eyes, had a grounding presence she appreciated. She went downstairs, and he looked up as she paused in the doorway.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

She shook her head, entering the living room and flopping down in a chair.

“You’ve had quite the night,” he offered.

“No kidding.”

“You hanging in there?”

“Always do.” She offered a smile.

Suddenly the lights went out, plunging them into darkness.

“Harvey?” Mom’s concerned voice called.

He clicked on a small flashlight and pointed it toward the kitchen. “Probably the wind, Margaret. We’re coming to you.”

Just then his phone beeped with a text. The blue light illuminated his frown of concern as he read the message.

“What is it?” Cassie asked.

“Chief’s on his way. The suspect might know this address.” Harvey pulled a firearm out of his boot.

Panic stung the back of her throat. It wasn’t only her life being threatened, it was her mom’s life, as well—the nurturing, compassionate matriarch of the McBride clan.

“Should we call 911?” Cassie asked Harvey.

“Chief took care of it. Let’s get to your mom.”

The nearly full moon lit the house through the sheer curtains covering the windows.

As Cassie and Harvey went into the kitchen, her heartbeat quickened. This was where they’d found Aiden, bloodied and semiconscious after the break-in last year. When Cassie glanced up and noticed the pale look on her mom’s face, she shoved back the traumatic memory. She had to be strong.

“It’s okay,” Harvey said to her mom. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you ladies.”

The image of the dead woman in the Whispering Pines cabin flashed across Cassie’s mind. Shovel Man had no problem killing or trying to kidnap a witness from a public place.

A red light blinked on the panel beside the back door.

Someone had triggered the alarm.

It was a good thing the system was on a separate electrical circuit.

“He’s...someone’s trying to get in,” her mom said in a terrified voice.

Cassie put a comforting arm around her. “It’s okay. Police have been alerted and Harvey’s here. We need to stay calm.”

“Do you have a fire extinguisher?” Harvey said.

“Under the sink,” Mom said.

“We can use it to stun him.”

Cassie went to retrieve it. “Mom, get in the pantry.”

“What about you?”

Cassie had no intention of hiding while Harvey fought off the intruder by himself.

“We both won’t fit in there,” she said. “I’ll find another place.” Gripping the extinguisher, she led Mom to the pantry.

“There’s room for both of us,” her mom whispered.

“Try to keep quiet,” Cassie whispered.

“But—”

“Mom, please, I know what I’m doing.” Cassie gently shoved her mom into the pantry, then shut and locked the door. She had to; she wouldn’t risk Mom popping out during a dangerous encounter. Her parents had put the lock on the outside of the door, out of reach of the kids so they couldn’t raid the cookie jar.

Cassie dreaded the lecture she’d get when this was over, but Mom was safe. That’s what mattered.

Harvey nodded at an antique oak credenza beside the door leading to the living room. “Help me push this into the doorway.”

It was a good plan, Cassie thought. By blocking the door between the kitchen and living room, the intruder could get to them only through the back of the house.

And they’d be ready.

The credenza firmly in place, Harvey motioned for Cassie to get on the opposite side of the back door, out of view. She crouched beside the kitchen cabinets, clutching the extinguisher to her chest.

“What if this is just a blown fuse?” she said.

“That’d be okay with me,” Harvey answered. “But I don’t believe in coincidences. You sure you won’t go into the pantry with your mom?”

“I’m sure.”

“Trying to prove how tough you are, huh?”

“Not proving anything. But I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Then you’re the only one,” Cassie said, noticing how their voices had grown softer in pitch as they spoke.

A few seconds of silence stretched between them. She thought she heard the echo of a police siren, but it was probably wishful thinking.

She glanced down at the vinyl flooring. Even in the darkness, the moonlight illuminated a mark on the floor Aiden’s football cleats had made years ago.

A mark she had fixated on when he’d been attacked and wounded last year.

“Hear that?” Harvey whispered.

Cassie took a deep, calming breath and focused.

Wooden boards creaked on the porch just outside the kitchen. Someone approached the back door.

Please, God, give me courage.

Creak, creak...

The door handle rattled.

Cassie took another deep breath and removed the pin on the extinguisher. A crash made her shoulders jerk. Mom really needed to replace the multipaned door.

Scratching echoed across the kitchen. The intruder was trying to unlock the door, but that wasn’t happening since it was the kind you locked with a key from the inside.

Another crash echoed through the kitchen. The guy had broken the window above the sink, probably in search of another way inside.

“I know you’re in there,” he said. “Tell me what you did with it and I’ll leave you alone.”

What she did with what?

Cursing under his breath, the intruder smashed all the kitchen windows. Was he going to climb into the house?

Right above Cassie’s hiding spot?

Harvey grabbed her, protectively shoving her behind him.

Shovel Man popped his head through the window.

Harvey aimed his weapon. “I wouldn’t.”

The shrill sound of sirens echoed in the distance.

The guy retreated. Footsteps pounded across the porch. She waited a good few minutes before speaking. “Think he’s gone?”

“Probably. But we’ll stay here until help arrives.”




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