A killer knows his biggest secret...

And is one step ahead

Someone’s targeting the families of soldiers in Sergeant Jason Barnes’s elite military unit, and Jason’s determined his secret ex-wife won’t become a victim. But with his heart still wounded, he refuses to risk falling for firefighter Erin Taylor again. As he puts his life on the line to guard her, though, he can’t keep his distance if he wants her to survive.

JODIE BAILEY writes novels about freedom and the heroes who fight for it. Her novel Crossfire won a 2015 RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. She is convinced a camping trip to the beach with her family, a good cup of coffee and a great book can cure all ills. Jodie lives in North Carolina with her husband, her daughter and two dogs.

Also By Jodie Bailey

Love Inspired Suspense

Freefall

Crossfire

Smokescreen

Compromised Identity

Breach of Trust

Dead Run

Calculated Vendetta

Fatal Response

Texas Ranger Holidays

Christmas Double Cross

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Fatal Response

Jodie Bailey

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08599-1

FATAL RESPONSE

© 2018 Jodie Bailey

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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“I wouldn’t have bothered you if I didn’t think it was important.”

“What else could possibly—”

“Erin, I think you’re in danger,” Jason said.

“Okay, Jason. Whatever game you’re playing, I’m leaving. It’s been a long night. Please go.”

“You know me well enough to know this isn’t a game.”

The truth was she didn’t know this Jason at all. People changed.

“Another wife of a guy on my team died early this morning.”

“This has nothing to do with me.”

“There’s more. My buddy Cole Dawson’s ex-wife was also found dead. Three spouses in one day? From the same team? A team whose last mission might cause someone to want revenge? Until somebody figures out how they got their intel, I can’t promise whoever this is doesn’t know about you, too.”

Dear Reader,

For the past year, God has laid Psalm 139 on my heart, particularly the end of verse 13, “thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb.”

Some of us had two amazing, loving earthly parents. Some had one. Some had none. Here is the thing God has shown me, and I wanted to make sure it came through in Erin’s and Jason’s lives... No matter the kind of earthly parents you have, God is always, always there. We simply have to look for Him. Yes, in the midst of our trials and struggles and hurts, He can be hard to see. But when we look back, I’m certain hindsight shows us His fingerprints all over our lives. His little gifts are everywhere, and He sends people into our lives to fill in the missing pieces, even though we may not get to see exactly what those people did until we get to heaven.

If you are feeling unloved, unwanted, uninvited, know this... God Almighty loves you so big. And He cares about you so much that when you were hidden from sight, growing into life, He was watching you. Verse 16 goes on to say that He knew every single day of your life before you were even born into it. I don’t know about you, but that speaks of a deep love to me, a love that has been there every time we’ve laughed and every time we’ve cried. Every time life has been perfect and every time we’ve wondered why on earth God is letting this happen to us. It may not feel like He is always there, but, sweet one, from one who has seen some dark times herself, I promise you that He always is. We simply have to look.

I wish I could sit across from you, share a cup of coffee (or tea, if that’s your thing) and tell you why I know this to be true. But I’m praying for you, that God sends you someone to help you if you’re hurting. If you’re healed, I’m praying you are the one that God sends. Let’s be His love to one another and help each other see His light in the darkness.

I’d love to hear your God story, if you’d like to share it. Stop by www.jodiebailey.com and visit. You can find my story there, too, if you want to make yourself some coffee (or tea!) and check it out.

Jodie Bailey

Thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.

—Psalms 139: 13b–14

To all of my MilSpouse Friends...For the times you’ve made a home where you never wanted to go, celebrated holidays with your loved ones far away, rearranged your life for the “needs of Uncle Sam” and planned reunions that never seemed to go quite right but turned out perfectly anyway... You are more amazing than the world will ever understand. I’m honored to stand beside you.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

The chrome of Fire Engine 7 gleamed in the glow of the dim lights hanging overhead. Erin Taylor ran one finger along the grille of the monstrous vehicle, then buffed the streak off with her sleeve. She could bust out a rag and work on it, but she’d done that an hour ago. Since she was the only person pulling overnight duty in the station of the Mountain Springs Volunteer Fire Department, there wasn’t anyone but herself to come along and undo her work.

Great. The dark hours were stretching longer than usual, and it wasn’t even midnight. Maybe it had to do with knowing where she could be right now...at a weekend training conference in Nashville. But she’d had to pass the opportunity along to Mark Jennings so her father wouldn’t be left alone for an entire weekend. His safety came first, even if it sometimes hindered her career...or derailed her life.

Not that things were ever going to change. Dwelling on it would only make her feel worse.

Drumming her fingers on her thighs, she wandered to the large garage doors at the front of the building and stared through the windows into the darkness. Mountain Springs slept quietly about a mile away. They hadn’t had a call in a couple of nights, not even for a medical emergency. On this moonless autumn evening, everything was still.

But a growing restlessness had her prowling the station. She’d organized the small kitchen. Considered baking brownies. Had tried to sleep on the small bed in the bunk room at the end of the hall. Every time she settled in and closed her eyes, something drove her to her feet.

The same kind of instinct had kicked in when the woods north of town caught fire in a lightning storm a couple of years ago. Her subconscious had caught the scent of smoke before her nose realized it was there. She’d already been halfway to the station when the alarm sounded.

There was no smoke tonight, simply a weird twinge in her gut that kept her from relaxing.

It probably had to do with the car.

For nearly two weeks, an older dark sedan had turned into the front parking lot of the station, turned around and left. The engine never shut off. The driver never left the vehicle. Each time, the only indication the car was there was headlights sweeping through the windows on the bay doors as the car made its turn.

She’d mentioned the car to her cousin Wyatt, a Mountain Springs police officer, at lunch after church on Sunday. They’d ultimately decided it was a new parent with a sleep-resistant infant.

Still, the random drive-bys poked at her creepy-meter a little bit.

With a slight shudder, Erin checked the front door for the third time to make sure it was locked. The back door was as tight as the front, the music of crickets and frogs drifting in from the back of the building.

Erin pivoted on her heel to go back to the office. There were always grant proposals to write. As one of two paid members of the mostly all-volunteer department, the bulk of the office work fell to her. At least it made the nights go faster.

A muffled scrape crept through the back door. Erin leaned toward the sound. She’d strapped bungee cords on the large trash cans to keep the critters out. With the fire station situated on the edge of a broad mountain meadow, all kinds of wild animals drifted past the building. She’d seen everything from adorable baby raccoons to black bears that could swat her into eternity with one swipe of a massive paw.

One time of having to clean trash strewn across the property by an unseen animal when she was a rookie volunteer had been enough to make her double-check the security of those trash cans.

Still, the heavy plastic likely wouldn’t be able to withstand a bear. If the noise continued, she could always flip on the lights and scare the creature across the meadow and into the woods.

Hand on the switch, she listened, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention.

Tires screeched on the road to the station, and headlights swept across the doors of the bay. An engine revved as it strained through the gears.

Somebody was flying along the short road that ended at the station. There’d been problems in the past with drag racers on the straightest stretch of road in the county, but the presence of the fire station had put a stop to racing when it was built twelve years earlier. With at least one firefighter constantly on duty, even the craziest of kids was smart enough to know a quick race would end in a phone call to the police.

Whoever was out there was coming in hot.

Lord, help me if they’re bringing in an injured child. With the closest hospital nearly half an hour away, it wouldn’t be the first time a Mountain Springs resident had forgone 911 to bring their emergency straight to the nearest help.

Flipping on the outside floodlights, Erin shoved open the back door as a small red sports car slid to a halt in the center of the rear parking lot. The driver’s door flew open, and a young woman jumped out. She spotted Erin and hefted a large padded envelope over her head. “Don’t hurt him! Please!”

Someone must be in the back seat of the car. Erin stepped away from the building. “Is someone in the car who needs—”

“I came alone.” Her voice shook, pleading as she held the envelope out toward Erin, although a good twenty feet separated them. “Please. Just...please.”

Erin eased back toward the building and snaked her hand behind her, feeling for the door handle. If this stranger was high or on a mental break she needed assistance, but she could easily turn violent. “Ma’am? Can I help you with—”

“Don’t hurt him!” The woman rounded her car and stepped cautiously toward Erin, holding out the package. “Please, I don’t know—”

An engine roared and tires screamed as another car accelerated and skidded around the side of the building.

It was the dark sedan that had driven by so many times.

The stranger’s eyes widened in panic. She froze, directly in the path of the oncoming headlights.

Adrenaline streaked in a flashover through Erin as she took two steps away from the building.

The car’s engine revved higher as it swerved toward the woman.

It wasn’t slowing. Throwing her hands over her head, Erin tried to yell a warning, but her throat constricted. No! Stop! There was no way this was happening. Nothing she could do to prevent it.

Time slowed. A dull, crunching thud tore the air as the dark four-door slammed into the young woman. Her body was hurled limply onto the hood of the car. The windshield cracked into a spiderweb from the impact of her head. She dropped to the ground and rolled.

The sedan skidded around the corner of the building and disappeared in a shriek of tires, leaving behind the sharp smell of tire rubber and an unearthly silence.

Erin’s breath came in hard gasps. A ringing in her ears drowned out the silence as the horror of the past minute gripped her in a momentary paralysis. Her mind screamed she should run, curl into a ball, call for help...

But she was the help.

Her training took over. Alert for sounds of the other vehicle’s return, Erin bolted for the broken body crumpled on the ground. Lord, let there be a pulse. Breathing. Anything.

She dropped to her knees and let her gaze sweep the victim who lay on her side, eyes staring vacantly into the darkness.

Swallowing a cocktail of grief and fear, Erin reached out to search for a pulse she was certain she would never find.

Footsteps pounded on the pavement at the far side of the building. The sound rocked Erin back on her heels and she whipped toward the approaching steps, her mind racing with prayers and fear.

A figure appeared at the dark corner, running toward her. In the shadows, she couldn’t make out features, could only tell it was a man. But there was something familiar—

And then the man was awash in light, the silence shattered by the sound of an engine roaring closer.

* * *

There was no time to think.

Army Sergeant First Class Jason Barnes sprinted toward the woman who stood silhouetted in the headlights of the oncoming car, refusing to question if he could outrun the vehicle sliding around the corner of the fire station with its engine revving into a high whine as it accelerated.

He couldn’t allow anyone else to die on his watch.

The roar of the engine grew closer, the lights brighter. He’d never make it. He’d never reach her in time. The car was too fast.

The ache in his knee made him too slow.

He was a couple of meters from her when tires screeched and rubber burned. The vehicle skidded sideways to a halt, scraping the passenger door against the brick building.

At the same moment, Jason reached the woman and grabbed her by the waist, dragging her with him to safety behind the Mustang belonging to his buddy Seth’s wife, which sat at an odd angle on the concrete. They were safe...unless the driver got out and came after them.

He looked over his shoulder, shielding the woman, as the rear tires spun and the dark older-model sedan skidded around the side of the building, the driver nothing more than a hulking shadow in a fleeting glimpse through the rear window.

Then the woman he’d rescued, the one he still held to his chest with one arm, repaid him for saving her life by driving her head into the side of his jaw. “Let me go.”

Shock relaxed his hold and she stumbled forward, barely catching herself by planting both hands on the trunk of Angie’s car. She regained her balance, then turned toward him with all of the suddenness of a summer tornado.

A very familiar tornado.

The air left his lungs in a rush, and he had to dig deep for enough air to say her name. “Erin?”

For the first time, her eyes met his, her face shadowed by the floodlights behind her. But there was no doubt, none at all

He’d rescued his ex-wife.

For a moment, there was zero sign of recognition, but then her eyes widened and she gasped. “What are...? Where did you come from?” She backed away from him slowly, glancing over her shoulder, then back to him as her jaw set in something that might be fear. “Did you do this?”

“Do what? Save your life?” Wait. No. This was not about them. He couldn’t let this become the discussion he’d played out in his head for years.

He had to find Angie Daniels, and Erin had been standing in front of Angie’s Mustang while a second car bore down on her.

Angie’s car, Erin beside it. Nothing computed. Right now, he couldn’t focus on the parts that didn’t make sense. He had to focus on finding Seth’s wife.

Staff Sergeant Seth Daniels had called the members of their team an hour earlier and asked them to search the county for Angie because it was too soon for the police to get involved. All the man knew was he’d awakened from a dead sleep a few minutes after midnight to find his wife and her car missing.

Jason had stopped at Seth’s and taken his buddy’s phone in order to track Angie’s whereabouts with an app her husband had installed. When the team had returned from Iraq a few months earlier, bruised and wounded, the paranoia had hit them all. Dogged by rumors of retaliation by some of the terror cells they’d infiltrated, each man had done what it took to make sure his family was safe.

Those safety measures included knowing where their loved ones were at all times.

The trail had stopped here, at the Mountain Springs Volunteer Fire Department. And now Jason stood by Angie’s car...with a woman he’d never imagined he’d see again. A woman who was accusing him of... Of what? “Where’s the person who was driving this car?”

Erin didn’t answer, simply turned her back to jog to the front of Angie’s vehicle, where she knelt so he could no longer see her.

“I asked you a question, Erin. I need an answer. How did this car get here?” He rounded the rear of the Mustang and stalked toward Erin, who bent over something on the ground. “Where’s the woman who...?” His gaze fell on a familiar pair of boots splayed on the pavement. On a growing dark pool at Erin’s feet.

No.

It couldn’t be.

This was a nightmare. The helplessness of his history leaking its way into his subconscious. There was no other way any of this made sense, the only way so many incongruous pieces of his life could be packed together on the cement drive of a back-road fire station. The only way Erin could be in front of him, her head bent over Angie’s body.

“Tell me she’s alive.” Because if she wasn’t, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t call Seth and tell him his wife, the woman whose existence had kept Seth alive in the dark days after the incident overseas had nearly killed them all, was gone.

Erin rose and turned to walk toward him, her boots leaving dark imprints on the shadowed ground.

Jason didn’t want to think about what those tracks were made of. He tried to step around Erin, but she blocked his view and pressed a hand to his chest, backing him around the rear of the car. “Don’t look. If you know her at all... Don’t look.” She’d slipped into the cold professional mask he’d seen on her one too many times, the one that said she’d seen horrors he couldn’t unsee for her.

The one that said she was protecting a victim’s family.

The one that told him Angie Daniels was dead.

TWO

Erin pressed her palms to the wall and stared out the narrow window in the fire exit in the station’s kitchen. Huge portable lights shone over the parking lot and onto the edges of the grassy meadow the department used for training behind the fire station. The Mustang still sat on the asphalt, a white sheet covering the remains of the woman Jason had referred to as Angie.

Having a name made everything so much harder. Angie. Who knew Jason. Who had been ripped from the world in a brutal, horrifying way. Whose death Erin would never be able to unsee.

Erin had responded to accident scenes and sick calls, had been trained to render aid in the most dire circumstances, but she had never been present when life was violently torn away. It was a whole different scenario.

Her stomach churning, Erin leaned her forehead against the shatterproof glass and looked for something else to focus on. At the far corner of the parking lot, Jason was talking to a police officer who had his back to her. From this distance, it was tough to tell who the officer was.

Erin turned her back on the high window in the dayroom and walked to the center of the kitchen. She was tired. Exhausted in a way she hadn’t been in years. All she wanted was to cross the hall to the bunk room and collapse, but she couldn’t. She’d given her statement, which had served to solidify the horror in her mind, and if she closed her eyes there was no doubt the sickening sights and sounds of Angie Daniels’s final moments would overtake her.

So would the memory of intense blue eyes that still somehow managed to see straight through her.

There was a time when her heart would have known Jason Barnes was living half an hour away.

Even better, there was a time when he’d have been sitting with her on the small couch on the other side of the room, cramming his mouth with popcorn while they binge-watched cheesy eighties television.

Everything could have been different if he’d understood her side of the story. But he never had and, in the end, he’d simply thrown up his hands and walked away.

Hands shaking, Erin grabbed the pot from the coffee maker and turned on the water in the sink to fill it, but she misjudged the distance and clanked the metal carafe against the faucet, dropping it with a clatter.

There wasn’t enough reserve left to care. Instead, she lowered her chin to her chest and stared at the gray tile floor.

Her eyes slipped shut against the mist threatening to build into full-on tears. She was not crying. Not now. Never where anyone might see.

“I see you’re handling tonight’s events well.”

Erin jumped at the deep masculine voice behind her, then relaxed when she found the source. “Tonight’s not the night to sneak up on me, Wyatt.”

Her cousin bent and grabbed the pot, then set it in the sink. The badge on his black Mountain Springs Police Department jacket gleamed in the fluorescent lights overhead. “Wasn’t trying to. You just looked like you could use some—”

“I don’t need help.” Snatching the carafe, she shoved it under the water and waited for it to fill. “I need coffee. You want coffee?” Truth was, with her hands shaking and mind racing, coffee was the last thing she needed, but it would give her something to do until he left. Wyatt Stephens had a way of figuring out all of her hidden secrets. It was one of the reasons her cousin was the only person who knew she’d once been married to Jason. If she’d tried to keep him in the dark, he’d have figured it out. He read her almost as well as Jason did.

The difference was, Wyatt’s ability to read her mind came from growing up together. Jason’s came from a whole other kind of relationship.

Erin balled her fists to keep from digging her fingers into her scalp. She didn’t need Jason Barnes in her headspace.

“I just got here, but I wanted to check on you before I headed to the crime scene.” Wyatt laid a hand on her shoulder to keep her from turning her back fully to him. “You want to talk about it? What you saw—”

“Was something I couldn’t stop.” Her stomach knotted as the horrible crunching thud seemed to echo in the room. She didn’t want to talk about the collision either. A woman was dead because Erin hadn’t been able to rescue her. It was her job. She’d failed.

“That’s twice you’ve cut me off in the past thirty seconds.” With a gentle tug, Wyatt turned her to face him. He took the carafe from her hand and set it behind her on the counter. “What else is happening? You don’t usually—”

“I don’t usually see helpless women get purposely mowed down.”

“That’s three times.”

With a sigh, Erin pulled away from her cousin’s grip and leaned back against the counter, shoving her hands into her pockets as she stared at the black leather couch across the room. “Jason’s here.”

It took a second for the name to register, but she could tell when it sank in. Wyatt’s chin lifted slightly. “Why?”

“I have no idea.” Erin ran over the brief encounter, leaving out the part where the sight of him had driven her back half a decade.

“Did he say how long he’s staying?”

She shook her head as her phone vibrated in the thigh pocket of her navy blue uniform pants. After pulling it out, she read the screen.

Heard there was some excitement. You headed home early? We’re out of coffee.

Why was her father awake at 1:12 a.m.? And why couldn’t he, just once, ask about her? She was half tempted to shoot back an I’m fine, Dad, thanks for asking.

Instead, Erin shoved her phone into her pocket while Wyatt watched with a raised eyebrow.

“You could head home, you know.”

“Chief Kelliher is on his way back from out of town, so I’m in charge even if the station is offline during the investigation. I’d rather stay here anyway. At least then there’d be a chance at sleep instead of...” Instead of cleaning whatever mess her father had decided to leave for her, running through the inevitable argument about why she didn’t find a regular day job, then mowing the huge two-acre lawn before she could drop into her own bed.

“Move out, Erin. Make him stand on his own two feet and stop treating you like his personal servant.”

It was the same thing he’d been preaching since she’d turned eighteen. Jason had echoed him every time. The difference was, Jason had a greater stake in her moving out than Wyatt ever had.

Neither of them understood she couldn’t simply walk away, so she’d stopped arguing. It was her fault her father suffered from the medical issues that held him back in life.

Her father had never liked Jason, had deemed him trouble from the start. Maybe Erin should have listened instead of suggesting they elope the day after high school graduation...and drive to South Carolina in style in her father’s prized ’68 Camaro.

On the way home, a drunk driver ran them off the road at the bridge over Wisdom Creek. They’d tumbled down the embankment and come to rest in the creek, leaving the car destroyed, Jason with a concussion, and Erin with a broken leg and busted ribs.

Her father blamed Jason, and his anger skyrocketed, blowing in an explosion when Jason came to the house the day she got home from the hospital. Before either of them could confess their elopement, Erin’s father had collapsed, the combination of his diabetes and his anger making him the victim of a stroke that had forced him into months of rehab and Erin into silence about her marriage.

It was her responsibility to take care of her father, but the one man who should have understood and supported her the most had never been able to understand. Jason had pushed her to tell the truth about their marriage so they could stop sneaking stolen moments together. He wanted to tell her father, to have her leave home and move in with him.

No, Jason had never understood. Her father had needed to be stronger first. Another blowup could have killed him.

She had to make it up to her father for wrecking his car and his life.

And he never let her forget it.

The radio on Wyatt’s shoulder crackled. He tipped his head to listen, then glanced toward the door. “I have to go, but if you need me, I’m—”

“Only a phone call away?”

“That’s four.” Wyatt turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing through the outer office and into the hallway.

Erin stood in the tiny kitchen, lips pursed. There was too much energy in her twitching muscles. She needed to put them to work.

She strode through the office and across the hall into the bay. The low murmur of voices filtered in through the garage doors at the back of the building, but the distance was mercifully too far to pick out words.

The engine still gleamed from her earlier restlessness, so she grabbed her supplies and walked to the end of the row where the brush truck stood. Her lone footsteps echoed off the high ceiling, the familiarity as comforting as her own heartbeat. No matter what happened in her life, a firefighter was what she was meant to be. She knew it in silences like this as well as she knew it in turnout gear facing a fully engulfed structure.

A small smile edged up her face for the first time in hours, and she let her fingers trail along the side of the large red utility vehicle. She inspected hoses and dials, then dug into the bucket for an old toothbrush. Might as well hit those spots where nobody ever remembered to clean.

She was standing on the running board polishing a handrail when a door opened on the other side of the building. Footsteps, slow but steady, paced toward her.

It was probably Wyatt. He had never been able to understand I don’t want to talk.

Lowering her hand, Erin grabbed the rail and turned, but she kept her place as she checked her watch. Over an hour on the truck. No wonder her neck ached as much as her heart.

The man who rounded the front of the ladder truck wasn’t her cousin.

Jason.

Her fingers tightened on the handrail while she fought to keep her expression impassive, but her insides jolted at his unexpected appearance. In the fullness of the overhead lights, he was everything she remembered and a whole lot more. Those blue eyes had first caught her attention over a decade earlier. While they held concern, they lacked the warmth she’d once enjoyed. Instead, they were wiser and darker, as though they’d absorbed everything he’d seen on his many deployments. His thick sandy-blond hair was longer on the top, tousled, but the smooth skin at his neck said it had been recently cut.

He’d filled out over the past few years, his shoulders broader, his chest firmer beneath his creamy beige sweater. And while it was impossible, he even seemed to be a couple of inches taller.

His height made her glad she’d stayed on her perch on the brush truck. He’d always towered over her by several inches.

Warmth breezed through her with the memory. She’d loved the way her head tucked beneath his chin when he held her. It made her feel protected, like nothing could touch her. The outside world and all its troubles had always drifted far away.

“You okay?”

She blinked twice, warmth morphing to embarrassment. She was staring at him. Had been for who knew how long. Balling her free hand, Erin dug her nails into her palm and turned back to the truck, inspecting an invisible spot on a coupling. “I’m fine.”

“And that’s why you’re polishing chrome in the dead of night?”

Jason’s voice held a knowing it shouldn’t. How often had he found her at the station doing the same thing? He’d always known where she’d run after an argument. He’d always found her.

Yeah. There would be no making up tonight or ever again. At least not with Jason Barnes.

She had to remind herself why it hadn’t worked between them. He’d repeatedly tried to force her hand with her father, refusing to understand why she couldn’t tell her dad the truth about their marriage. Jason had fought against her, not with her, and certainly not for her.

Armed with her catalog of reasons he was every bad idea in the world, she faced him. “What are you doing back in town?”

“Stationed at Camp McGee as an instructor. Got here about a month ago.”

“A month. Were you going to warn me?” The words bit as the emotions of the night congealed into an overarching anger she couldn’t harness. Jumping from the truck, she prepared to pour out every tirade she’d ever practiced in her mind.

But footsteps on the other side of the bay stopped her.

Jason turned toward the sound at the same time she did.

Wyatt rounded the corner with police chief Arch Thompson at his side, their expressions grim.

Erin tensed. Whatever was coming, it was clear...

Her world was about to tilt again.

* * *

“Meth?” Erin eyed the evidence bag police chief Arch Thompson held at his side.

The whole night was spinning faster, circling with all of the ferocity of a whirlpool that threatened to drag her under. Now it had bled into the small dayroom of the fire station. Her home away from home had been invaded by the carnage outside, with Chief Thompson adding more pieces to a story spinning so far out of control it was ceasing to make sense.

Tall and slim, Thompson looked more like a pro basketball player than a small-town police chief. But tonight, his typically smiling eyes were dark and troubled. He stood between the kitchenette and the couch in the dayroom, Wyatt beside him, the two men dominating the space. “Afraid so. And even more, there’s—”

“No.” Jason had been standing by the back door, silently watching the men. The rigid set of his shoulders and the corded muscles in his neck held a tension Erin hadn’t seen since their last face-to-face conversation, right before he walked out the door forever. “No. Angie wasn’t a courier. I’d have known. We’d have known.”

Who was we? For the hundredth time in two hours, Erin wondered who Angie was to Jason. He seemed to walk a tightrope in his grief, one that fell to anger on one side and sorrow on the other. Underneath it all, though, there was an underlying something she couldn’t quite get a read on. The full story was bigger than he was letting on.

“Erin says the suspect vehicle came by the station a few times, but has never hung around. She also says she saw Angie Daniels exit her vehicle tonight and hold up this envelope. Without testing I can’t be a hundred percent positive, but having had more than our fair share of busts lately, I’m almost certain. This is crystal meth.” Chief Thompson lifted the bag higher. “Convince me she was innocent.”

Jason scrubbed his hand over his hair, his expression drawn. “Angie was a straight arrow. A volunteer who kept spouses in the loop when the soldiers were deployed. One of those people who never had a bad mood. Nothing she ever did or said points to this.”

“Why would she get out of the car telling me not to ‘hurt him’?” The words were out before Erin could stop them. She had to say something, to defend the woman she’d failed to save. If she continued to keep silent, she’d find herself across the room with her arms around her ex-husband, trying to comfort him in the loss of whoever this woman was to him. It didn’t settle well with her heart or with her stomach, if she was being perfectly honest. But no matter what had happened in the past or who they were now, she couldn’t let Jason stand by and listen to more accusations against someone he obviously cared about. “And she was scared. Of me. There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“She could have been high.” Wyatt’s voice was low, almost as though he didn’t want to say the words. When Jason straightened as though he was going to argue, Wyatt held up his hand to stop him. “I have to ask the hard question here, Jason, the one we’re all thinking. Angie Daniels was married to your teammate, but you’re awfully invested in this.” He swallowed hard, glanced at Erin, then back at Jason. “Were the two of you—”

“No.” The emphatic tone in Jason’s voice left no room for argument.

Relief made Erin grab for the back of the couch, but recrimination soon followed. A woman was dead. Was she really concerned about how much Jason cared? Now? Lord, give me back my right mind. She sure wasn’t getting through this night without His help.

Sinking to the edge of a recliner a few feet away from Erin, Jason rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands hang. He stared at the wall for a long time, almost as though he was watching a movie no one else in the room could see.

Chief Thompson shifted but said nothing as Wyatt leveled a hard gaze on Jason, the unspoken request for an explanation hanging heavy in the air. The two men had been best friends in high school, practically family after Jason’s parents abandoned him and he filed for emancipation rather than go into the foster system. That had to be the reason Wyatt was here now, because Jason was hurting and he couldn’t stand not to be there for the man who had been closer than a brother.

Although as far as Erin knew, the two hadn’t spoken since Jason joined the army eight years earlier. When Jason left town for the army, he’d cut ties with everyone and left a lot of pain behind. The only one who knew how deeply personal it had been for Erin was Wyatt, and they’d done their best to carry each other through.

“We’re a tight team. Tighter than most after...” Jason’s voice seemed to come from far away, as though what he was saying came from deep inside, from a hidden place he didn’t access often. “Six months ago, we had an incident where our commander was killed. Master Sergeant Jonathan Fitzgerald. Most of us were wounded, some worse than others.” When he lifted his head, it was to look straight at Erin. “There’s the short version of how a bunch of us were sent to Camp McGee. The army believes our experiences can help train other teams.”

Not to mention give them time stateside to heal. The pain of what Jason wasn’t saying seared Erin. There was definitely more to his story, and it bled out slowly in what he couldn’t talk about. “It’s made you a tighter family.”

Though the words were soft, Jason caught them. He nodded a silent thank you, then stood and turned back to the two police officers. “There’s nothing else to tell unless you know something else you need to tell me.”

The quick look the chief and Wyatt exchanged made Erin brace herself against the back of the couch. The drugs were half of the issue.

“What?” Jason had seen it too.

“Mrs. Daniels’s cell phone was unlocked, and there were messages indicating she’d been running drugs for a while. But her last message was the one we’re concerned with now. It directed her to deliver the package to the firefighter on duty at the station by midnight, or someone would kill her husband.”

THREE

“What?” Erin wavered, her fingers digging into the black leather sofa she’d been leaning against.

Instinctively, Jason reached for her, but he drew back as Wyatt stepped around him and laid a hand on Erin’s shoulder.

Jason stood down. Right. He got it. Erin wasn’t his to take care of anymore.

For the first time, he took a second to really look at her. She was the same yet so different. Her dark hair was longer and pulled back in a ponytail. She was more toned, although the uniform could be creating an illusion of strength. Still, she appeared way too delicate to be the rescue hero he knew her to be.

And the drive to protect her was strong, no matter what their past might say.

“Why?” The word was soft, as though it leaked from a deflating balloon. Erin brushed Wyatt’s hand from her shoulder and stood taller, seeming to re-center herself. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do we,” Wyatt said. “Did you know her? Ever seen her before tonight?”

Erin shook her head slowly as though she were cataloging recent days as she answered. “No. Never. The sole connection is the car. I know it’s the same one that’s circled the parking lot a few times. There can’t be two identical cars like that one in a town this small.”

“Someone wanted you involved.” Jason had no doubt. There was no way all of this was a coincidence. He’d built his career on analyzing the details, and these added up a little too well. Somehow, Erin was a target too.

The why made no sense, though. No more than Angie running drugs did. It was a setup. It had to be.

“Normally, I’d say you’re reaching, but...” Arch Thompson was skeptical, and Jason couldn’t blame him. Arch had been a senior when Jason, Erin and Wyatt were freshmen, but in a small town, everyone was acquainted with everyone. The young police chief had always been a good guy, if a little bit cocky, but in Jason’s line of work, cocky could work for you.

“Jason.” Wyatt cut into the conversation and held up his cell phone. “There are some men outside asking for you. Apparently, Staff Sergeant Daniels is here. You’re free to go out and see them as long as you don’t feed them any details past this was a hit-and-run.”

Jason dug his fingers into his thighs. As much as he wanted to stay and make sure Erin was truly okay, the men outside needed him more. He had no doubt Seth had come to the station trying to get to his wife and no doubt the others had followed him. “Got it.” He hesitated as he passed Wyatt and Erin. “Call me if you need anything else.” Even he wasn’t sure which of the two he was talking to.

Wyatt nodded. Erin didn’t respond.

Not that he’d expected her to. The way the conversation had gone earlier, there was still a large gulf between them. One he had no idea how to bridge.

When he shoved through the door, the temperature was noticeably colder than it had been an hour or so earlier. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and strode toward the barriers at the road, where a handful of cars sat parked along the side of the road.

Only one person was in sight.

Jason ducked under the barrier and came up next to Staff Sergeant Alex “Rich” Richardson, who was leaning against the side of his pickup truck. Rich hardly acknowledged him as he scanned the wood line on the other side of the station. The vigilance never went away, even on home soil and especially tonight.

It might never go away again. He’d seen the woman who’d once been the love of his life for the first time in years. Had witnessed a speeding vehicle take aim at her. Had seen blood-soaked boots on pavement.

None of this should be happening here.

He stepped into Rich’s line of sight. “Where is everybody?”

“They went with Seth. A couple of local cops took him up the road a little ways, around the curve. Probably have him sitting in a patrol car. He was pretty...you know.”

Belligerent? Desperate? Scared? When they’d lost Fitz, Seth had been one of the worst wounded, nearly bleeding out from shrapnel to the neck. His fight, his determination, his will to live...everything had centered on Angie.

And now she was gone.

Jason tensed, his knee and shoulder protesting with another reminder of the ways life didn’t always make sense. As he stood beside Rich, he studied the driveway leading to the back of the fire station. Seth was going to need them all, but he had no idea what to say. If they were facing armed terrorists, he could take them down. A bomb factory? Been there, done that.

But a buddy who’d lost his wife?

He hadn’t felt this inept even in basic training. There weren’t courses for how to comfort a guy whose wife was dead. A wife who had been killed in a hit-and-run ten miles from home with an envelope full of meth in her hand.

Rich pounded the side of his fist against the truck. “I feel useless standing here. I’d rather be hunting the guy who did this, bringing him in so he can face what he’s done.”

“Same.”

“Lisa’s with him. She’ll know what Seth needs.”

Lisa Fitzgerald would definitely do a better job than any of the guys would. When they’d returned from Iraq and Lisa had come to meet them, Jason had tried to offer sympathy to Fitz’s wife. He’d watched her husband die. He owed her.

But he’d blown it. Had stammered a few clichés that had made her soak his shoulder with tears.

“I think—” Rich’s words dropped as a figure stepped around the back of the truck.

Jason’s muscles tensed, his fingers reflexively reaching for the weapon he no longer carried. People melting out of the darkness never meant anything good.

But as the shadow drew closer, the tension eased.

Sergeant First Class Tony Augustus lowered a soda can from his mouth, casting a guilty look at Jason.

“Caesar.” The nickname had been bestowed on Tony by a drill sergeant who’d called him Caesar Augustus. “You let your wife catch you downing caffeine, she’ll come after you. Then she’ll come after us for not stopping you.” After the incident that killed Fitz, the men had reacted in different ways. Caesar’s post-traumatic stress had nearly incapacitated him and, in an effort to curb his anxiety, his wife, Caroline, had talked him into cutting his caffeine intake.

“Yeah, well...” Caesar scrubbed his hand across his closely cropped dark hair. “Tension’s thick and I just needed...something.”

Jason could sympathize with the need for something. He’d found something at the bottom of a bottle after the incident, but while it had bought him temporary freedom from the pain, it had left him helpless to fight his thoughts when the nothingness wore off. Not only did he relive Fitz’s death and his own injuries, but he was thrown back to life in Mountain Springs before he took an oath to serve his country, to the what might have beens he’d left behind.

A few moments of oblivion weren’t worth the aftermath.

Rich thumped his fist lightly against the side of his truck, a rhythmic beat that was almost reassuring. A drummer when he was in high school, he was always tapping a rhythm. The habit had led to a lot of late-night impromptu bad karaoke sessions. His engagement to his fiancée, Amber Ransom, was a few days old. He was probably internalizing all of Seth’s reactions, knowing he’d do the same. He needed time. They all needed time.

Caesar leaned back against the truck. “Two cops were out front, talking earlier.” He tipped his head to the sky. “They’re looking at Seth.” He addressed the stars. “Not sure they’re wrong.”

Wait a second. “You don’t think...”

“Stranger things have happened after guys have seen the things we’ve seen.” Dropping his chin, Caesar pinned Jason with a hard gaze. “Don’t tell me your thoughts haven’t whacked out on you before.”

Jason’s jaw tightened. He’d had memories he wished he could erase, nightmares he’d give anything to stop...but violence? No.

Caesar shoved off of the truck and stared at the front of the fire station. “It’s not important.”

But it probably was. While a couple of guys had talked to the chaplain when they’d come home, most had opted out. A diagnosis of post-traumatic stress could wreck careers, so they buried the pain deep.

Or they blew up.

“What’s not important?” A familiar female voice drifted around the truck, followed by a tall, trim woman with blond hair and green eyes that held the weight of the world.

Lisa Fitzgerald.

“Nothing.” Jason let her pull him into a quick hug. Then she drew him away from Caesar to the front of the vehicle.

If she was seeking comfort, she was in the wrong place.

Instead, she kept her hand on his arm, her expression speaking fear more than pain.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Crystal.”

“Palmer’s wife?” Jason leaned around her. A small knot of people had gathered while he’d been talking to Caesar, but he couldn’t see Drew or Crystal. “Where are they?”

“He called about five minutes ago.”

“Okay...” With a gut-wrenching dread, he knew nothing good was coming.

“She had an asthma attack and...” Tears threatened to spill from Lisa’s eyes.

Jason stared across the small distance at their incomplete group. Lisa didn’t need to say any more.

Crystal Palmer was dead.

There was no way this was a coincidence. Someone was targeting his team.

Which meant Erin could be next.

* * *

Erin climbed onto the brush truck and inspected the handrail she’d been polishing when Jason interrupted her. It was tough to tell where she’d stopped and, honestly, she was too tired to care. As the sun brought a different light to the windows in the huge doors, she was glad to see the single most horrible night of her life end.

Chief Kelliher had released her hours ago, but she’d waited for the techs outside to pack and leave, just in case. More than once, she’d started to walk out the front door to offer condolences to Jason and the members of his team who’d stood tightly clustered near the road, but she’d stopped herself every time. It would likely be an intrusion, a distraction. They needed one another, not her.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. It was a little bit early for Chief Kelliher, but he’d likely driven half the night to get back from the conference in Nashville and had probably come straight to the station.

But, for the second time, the man who walked around the truck wasn’t who she’d expected.

With a heavy sigh that served to weigh her down more, Erin turned her eyes to the ceiling. “Jason.” When she trusted herself enough to look at him, he’d stopped a few feet away. The lines around his eyes were deeper than they’d been earlier, fatigue drawing deep circles underneath.

One eyebrow arched but settled again, and his expression darkened. “I wouldn’t have bothered you if I didn’t think it was important.”

“What else could possibly—”

“Erin.”

The heavy command in his tone stopped the flow of her tirade.

Jason caught her gaze in a way he hadn’t in years...and his expression was anything but friendly. It held a hint of something she’d never seen before, something that swept chills across her skin.

With an underlying authority she’d never heard before, he broke the silence. “I think you’re in danger.”

She was in danger?

Sure she was.

The single threat Erin saw was the one standing ten feet from her. He was the one person alive who could wreck her entire world by making her want things she could never have.

Ignoring the twinge in her chest that remembered how it used to be, Erin jumped off the truck but kept her distance from the man she’d once trusted above all others. Their story was in the past. And while tonight had been horrifying, his assertion she was in danger made her think Jason was a couple of matches short of a full box. If he was referring to the text, it had nothing to do with her. It had been a decoy, a way for a killer to draw Angie Daniels to her death.

“Okay, Jason. Whatever game you’re playing, I’m leaving the field.” Erin dropped the rag into a bucket and reached for the handle. She should go home anyway. Her father would be texting again soon, trying to track her down. His demands were pretty much the extent of what she could deal with this morning. “It’s been a long night. I want to go home and sleep. Nothing else. Please, just go.”

Not wanting to risk a brush past him in the narrow space between the trucks, Erin turned and headed for the back of the ladder truck to circle around to the front of the building. It might make her seem like a coward, but no way did she want to risk contact with him, not the way her brain kept pinging back into the past every time she looked at him and definitely not when he was talking as though reality was no longer a friend of his. She’d spent eight years mending her broken heart, and the roller coaster of the past seven hours had left her spent and defenseless.

Footsteps and his hand on her bicep stopped her. “You know me well enough to know this isn’t a game.”

Erin jerked her arm from his grasp and kept walking, the first zip of fear running across her skin. She may have been moved to protect his emotions last night, but the truth was she didn’t know this Jason at all. People changed. Circumstances shaped everyone. For all she knew of this stranger, he was behind every crazy thing happening in the small town.

She had to get outside, call Wyatt, do something to get away from—

“Another wife of a guy on my team died this morning. Early. Not too long after Angie. Asthma attack.”

Erin’s footsteps dragged to a stop and the bucket hung limp in her hands. She’d heard the call for EMS on the county’s dispatch, but she’d been so involved with what was happening in front of her, she hadn’t processed it. The station in Fairview, right outside of Camp McGee, had responded. Unlike Angie’s murder, which would be all over the place as soon as the story worked its way to the news stations in Asheville, there was no way Jason would have any clue about the other death unless someone close to the deceased had told him.

Her jaw tightened. If someone wanted to hurt her, they’d missed their chance last night, because the driver of the car had a clear shot and waved off. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“Both of us know two spouses of men on my team dying at the same time would be one of the craziest coincidences in the world. And Angie’s death was no accident. Neither was someone trying to link you to it.” Jason stepped close enough for Erin to feel the warmth of his presence against her back. She dug her teeth into her lower lip as the pain of losing him swept her, as fresh as if he’d left yesterday. “Problem is, there’s more. I talked to my former chain of command about an hour ago. Late yesterday evening, my buddy Cole Dawson’s ex-wife was found dead in Roanoke, Virginia. Her roommate came home from work and she was on the couch with her car running in the garage. They were thinking accident or suicide, but... Three spouses in one day? From the same team?” His hand was warm on her shoulder as he turned her to face him. “A team whose last successful mission involved taking out some high-value targets that might cause someone to want revenge?”

Last successful mission? Erin’s thoughts tripped over the word, then stuck on what he was trying to tell her. It couldn’t be real. Life wasn’t as bizarre as the movies. “You can’t be serious. You sound ridiculous. That’s some old Bruce Willis action movie kind of stuff. The bad guys don’t get revenge the way you’re saying, not on individuals. They come after whole countries. Big targets to make a statement, not families.” He was insane. Out of his head. Nobody came to Mountain Springs to commit murder.

Except she’d seen the carnage with her own eyes a few hours earlier.

Still, there was no way. She rolled the handle of the bucket between two fingers and refused to meet his eyes. “Even if it was true, I’m your ex. Anybody trying to get revenge couldn’t care less about someone who means nothing to you.”

Everything about Jason froze. He looked as though she’d slapped him and he didn’t know how to handle the blow. But then he jerked his head to the side and continued as though the pause never happened. “You’re forgetting Cole’s ex. The Dawsons got divorced before we did. Cole never remarried. He always said Tracy was it for him, the same way...” Jason dropped his hand from her arm. “Somehow, some way, somebody with a grudge found Tracy. And Angie and Crystal. In two different cities. And until somebody figures out how they got their intel, I can’t promise whoever this is doesn’t know about you too.”

This was too much. Between Angie’s death and Jason’s reappearance...

Erin tried to read him, to find something familiar in the man in front of her, but all she could see was a hardness around the edges that hadn’t existed before. “What happened to you overseas?” It had to have been something, because nothing else could explain the things he was saying. The story simply couldn’t be real.

His head dipped to one side, confusion clouding his gaze. “What?”

“You walk with a limp. Not much of one, but enough. I noticed it earlier. And this? This story you’re spinning?” When his mouth opened to say more, she backed farther away and dug deep for the strength to walk away, even as her heart wanted to reach out to him. “I’m about to grab my truck keys out of the office. You’re going to walk out ahead of me without saying another word. Because if you don’t, I’m having Wyatt come back to handle you and your crazy talk. Don’t speak to me again.” Because I don’t have what it takes to remember why it all went wrong in the first place.

When she turned, he didn’t follow. Jason had always been the pragmatic one, the levelheaded one, while she’d been the one wanting to run away and do crazy things like eloping in South Carolina. To think a mind as solid and steady as his had cracked...

Her throat ached. She’d heard about men coming home broken, different... She’d simply never imagined it would happen to Jason. He’d always been the strongest man she knew.

Without pausing, she dropped the bucket next to the row of wall lockers and swept into the office, snatching her keys from the corner of the desk and holding them so tightly they dug into her palms. If he didn’t leave as she’d asked, she’d...she’d...

Cry. His brokenness would break her.

But his footsteps didn’t pause as he headed up the hall. The outside door opened and shut softly and the building fell silent.

Erin dropped her chin to her chest and stared at the scuffed toes of her black boots, feeling as though her spine couldn’t support her any longer. Last night had been too long, too much of a breakneck ride down the mountain at top speed. She couldn’t do any more. And if she didn’t get out of this building in the next ten seconds, she was going to fall to pieces.

Maybe she’d make the drive home slowly with the windows down. Maybe last night would blow away somewhere into the fall mountain mist.

When she broke through the door into the early morning light, she scanned the parking lot, half expecting to see Jason waiting.

The small front lot was empty.

She’d deny until her last breath that his departure left her with a hint of disappointment. It was for the best. He was gone. Hopefully for good, the way he should have been when their divorce was final.

Jerking open the door to the Bronco, Erin climbed in and reached for the seat belt as she angled her foot toward the brake. Her heel rolled on something and an all-too-familiar sound paralyzed her, cold terror icing her movements and driving the world into slow motion.

No. There was no way. None. She had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating.

Tilting her head, she looked at her foot, throat dry, head pounding...

And found a rattlesnake beneath the heel of her boot.

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