A witness’s life is in jeopardy...

And he’ll blow his cover to protect her

After one of the at-risk teens she mentors calls her for help, Sierra Monforton witnesses a drug deal—and suddenly she’s in a killer’s crosshairs. To protect her, undercover DEA agent Joseph Anderson must keep Sierra close—as her pretend boyfriend. Joseph’s assignment may be to take down a drug ring, but he’ll risk everything to ensure Sierra doesn’t get hurt.

Ever since she found the Nancy Drew books with the pink covers in her country school library, SHARON DUNN has loved mystery and suspense. Most of her books take place in Montana, where she lives with three nearly grown children and a spastic border collie. She lost her beloved husband of twenty-seven years to cancer in 2014. When she isn’t writing, she loves to hike surrounded by God’s beauty.

Also By Sharon Dunn

Dead Ringer

Night Prey

Her Guardian

Broken Trust

Zero Visibility

Montana Standoff

Top Secret Identity

Wilderness Target

Cold Case Justice

Mistaken Target

Fatal Vendetta

Big Sky Showdown

Hidden Away

In Too Deep

Texas Ranger Holidays

Thanksgiving Protector

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

In Too Deep

Sharon Dunn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08627-1

IN TOO DEEP

© 2018 Sharon Dunn

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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“That man you saw in the forest is very high up in the drug trade.”

“So that’s why he sent his henchman after me.” Sierra’s voice filled with anxiety.

Joseph turned the key in the ignition and pressed the gas. He wished there was something he could say to lift the burden of worry from her. Sometimes silence was the kinder choice over saying something trite or untrue.

The car rolled up a long hill. “Kind of like a roller-coaster ride,” he said, hoping to distract her from her worry. He aimed the car downhill and coasted, lifting his foot off the gas.

“Yes, I guess. Never thought of it that way.” She sounded a million miles away as she stared through the windshield.

The car picked up speed. Joseph pressed the brakes, but the car rolled even faster. So that was why they’d been lured out there.

The brake line had been cut.

Dear Reader,

I hope you enjoyed the wild adventure Sierra and Joseph went on and watching them fall in love. Because of choices she made as a teenager and her broken family life, Sierra carries a lot of shame about her past. Hers is far from the perfect family. Yet she chooses to love her father despite the pain he brought into her life, and she works at forgiveness toward her stepmother.

It would be easy for Sierra to think she can’t do anything for God because of her past, yet instead she chooses to pay it forward and love kids whom others have given up on. I can’t tell you how many times I have said or done something that made me feel like I was not worthy of God’s love and certainly couldn’t do anything to make a difference for Him.

It’s easy to stay in that defeated place, but it’s not where God wants us to be. He never expected us to be perfect. That’s why there is opportunity for repentance and starting over each day. His mercies are new every morning. He loves us and wants the best for us. I am so grateful we serve such a loving God.

Blessings,

Sharon Dunn

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

—2 Corinthians 5:17

For my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, counselor, king and friend

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

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE

Panic invaded Sierra Monforton’s nerves as she sprinted through the brush that led to the lakeshore. Trevor Bond, a troubled fifteen-year-old boy from the youth group she headed up, had not been on the road where they’d agreed to meet.

As she stepped to the edge of the brush, a fog rolled over the lake and crept along the rocky shore. The calm of the night sky twinkling with stars stood in opposition to the fear that hounded her. Trevor’s words from their phone call less than half an hour ago pounded in her brain. “Miss M, I’m here at Fishermen’s Crest to get drugs to sell. I don’t want to go back to using, but sometimes everything just seems so hard. Help me.”

She’d talked him out of his plan and agreed to pick him up. He had ridden his bicycle out there and would not be able to get away fast enough before the drug dealers showed up. Depending on how deep Trevor was already in with these dealers, he might still be in danger once she got him back to town. But she’d deal with that when she had to. Right now, she needed to get him home safe with his younger sister, Daisy, and foster mom.

And now Trevor was nowhere to be found. A hundred violent images crashed through Sierra’s brain as she scanned the beach. What if the drug dealers had shown up early and been angry about Trevor’s change of heart? What if Trevor had run away out of shame and would end up back on the streets of some city?

She ran along the rocky shore, calling out Trevor’s name. Silence answered back. She didn’t know exactly where the drug dealers had planned to meet Trevor, but Trevor said he’d be safe on the road. Why, then, hadn’t he stayed there and waited for her?

Another, more sinister thought played around the edges of her mind. Everyone in Scenic View knew about her fight to get kids clean and to push the dealers out of town. Trevor had used and sold drugs before. He was only six months clean. What if he was setting her up so the dealers could harm her?

She took in a sharp breath. She cared about that kid. She didn’t want to think the worst of him. And yet she knew firsthand the world he was considering going back to. When she was only a year older than Trevor, she had been headed down the same destructive road.

The sound of footsteps caused her to glance up the shore. A man in dark clothes emerged from the fog, jogging toward her along the rocky beach.

Even at a distance, she knew the man wasn’t Trevor. Trevor was a short, skinny kid. This man was muscular and tall. What were the chances of a man running on a rocky beach not being connected to the drug deal about to take place? Afraid for her own safety, she slipped back into the brush. As the man ran past, she recognized who he was. Her heart beat a little faster when she saw the gun in his waistband.

Though she’d never met him, she knew Joseph Anderson by sight. He’d taken over management of the skateboard shop only a few weeks ago. The kids in her youth group raved about him. Apparently, Joseph had charisma when it came to winning the hearts of teenagers.

Scenic View, Idaho, where she lived, was a small, close-knit community. Though the lakes attracted part-time residents who owned second homes here, the people who stayed year-round and had been here for generations were the core of the town.

Sierra slipped deeper into the brush. Joseph ran as though on a mission. The gun was cause for alarm. It couldn’t be coincidence that he was in the very same area where a drug deal was about to happen. Sierra clenched her jaw. Drug activity with teens had been on the rise recently. The skateboard shop would be a perfect front for selling drugs to kids. If Joseph Anderson was up to no good, she would see to it that he couldn’t hurt the teenagers she cared so much about.

Joseph disappeared around a bend. She stepped out and ran after him, not to confront him but to see what he was up to. Maybe he would lead her to Trevor. She knew she might be risking her own safety, but right now she could think only of Trevor and the other kids. If she witnessed anything shady with Joseph, she would leave and tell the police.

Trevor had sounded so lost and filled with shame on the phone. At least the boy had taken her up on the offer she gave all the kids and called her before he did something destructive. She hoped she was right about him.

Sierra’s tennis shoes padded over the rocks. She slowed as she rounded the curve. Up ahead was a structure everyone referred to as Old Boat, a thirty-five-foot recreational trawler that had been scuttled here years before. Kids came to this area to build bonfires and party.

She didn’t see Joseph or Trevor anywhere.

Half in the water and half on shore, the boat listed to one side, creaking as the waves bombarded it.

Something rustled in the brush farther inland. She saw a flash of red. Trevor always wore a red coat. She darted toward where she’d seen movement. She could hear the noise of someone racing through the brush, back toward the road. Maybe Trevor had panicked standing in the dark waiting for her to pick him up. At least he was headed in the right direction.

Her feet smacked the softer ground. She stepped into a clearing, about to call out Trevor’s name when she spotted a man, neither Joseph nor Trevor, kneeling over an open satchel. He held something in his hand.

He looked like a businessman about to board a plane; he was definitely not dressed for the outdoors. Moonlight washed through the trees. He turned to look at her. She saw his face as he grimaced at her.

Because the moment had become almost surreal, it took her a second to register that what he held in his hands was a brick of some kind of drug—cocaine, heroin? Moonlight reflected off the metal on the large face of the watch he wore. She cast her gaze downward and then took a step back. The entire satchel was filled with drugs.

“Well, this is bad timing!” Rage tainted his words.

Time seemed to slow down as the man stood up, pulled out a gun and aimed it at her. On instinct, she turned and sprinted back toward the road. A shot whizzed by her so close it hurt her eardrum. Her heart pounded out an intense beat as adrenaline surged through her, feeding her instinct to stay alive.

Footsteps echoed behind her and then off to the side. Another shot zinged through the air. The man had positioned himself between her and the road. She sprinted deeper into the brush. She’d have to run parallel to the road until she could put some distance between herself and the shooter in order to get back to her car and escape.

His footsteps never let up. She could hear him moving through the brush. She ran, willing her legs to pump harder, go faster.

Then a shot came at her from behind, from a different direction. She caught a glimpse of a second man, his baseball hat just visible above the brush. A new wave of fear swept over her. Two men were shooting at her. She ran haphazardly, trying to stay close to the road but knowing that escape route was no good. She couldn’t shake the first shooter.

She pivoted and headed back toward the shore. Another shot sounded through the night.

A body crashed into her from the side, taking her to the ground. She lay on her stomach with the man on top of her.

Terror gripped her as she tried to wiggle free of the man.

“Could you be any noisier?” The man’s voice came out in a harsh whisper. “You sound like an elephant at a dance party.”

She could hear the other two men moving through the brush. One shouted a command at the other.

“Get off of me.”

“I will. But you need to be quiet.” He took his knee off her.

She flipped over. Joseph Anderson stared back at her and put his finger to his lips. Fear struck a new chord inside her. What was going on here?

Joseph leaned close and whispered in her ear. “Come with me. I’ll get you out of here.”

Her instinct was to pull away and to run. He had a gun. Was he involved with those other men? Did he intend to hurt her? Or was he a rival drug dealer and she’d been caught in some sort of turf war?

She shook her head.

The two shooters closed in on them.

Sierra rose to her feet prepared to run away from Joseph. She’d take her chances on her own. She could follow the shoreline back into town or try to get to her car. She turned and sprinted.

Joseph was right on her heels.

He grabbed her from behind, spun her around and gripped her wrist so tightly she couldn’t get away. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Her heart pounded as she tried in vain to pull away. “What are you doing out here?”

“I might ask you the same thing,” he said.

He pulled her through the remainder of the brush down to the shore, where a motorboat waited in a cove. He lifted her up and put her in the boat. “You’ll thank me later.”

She doubted that. She felt anger toward anyone who pushed drugs on kids. Drugs ruined lives. Was that what Joseph was up to?

She moved to get out of the boat just as Joseph pulled the starter rope and the engine sputtered to life. The two shooters emerged through the brush. One, the man she’d seen with the drugs, looked right at her and then slipped back into the trees. The other man, the one wearing the baseball hat, lifted his gun. A red dot appeared on Sierra’s chest. She ducked down in the boat.

Sierra had no choice. If she ran back on shore, she’d be shot for sure. She had to stay in Joseph’s boat.

But just what did Joseph have in mind? Why had he kept her alive?

Undercover DEA agent William Joseph Anderson glanced over his shoulder as a gunshot shattered the silence on the water.

The woman he’d pulled out of the forest lay flat in the boat. What had she been doing out there, anyway? Certainly not going for a stroll on the beach. Her interference messed up his investigation. Were the two thugs after her because she’d betrayed them?

Maybe she was trying to horn in on the drug activity.

Whether she was innocent or guilty, it was clear she was under threat. Now that he’d saved her life, she might have valuable information she’d share out of gratitude and a desire to destroy the men who were after her. As long as he could get it without giving up who he really was. At all costs, he had to maintain his cover.

Earlier in the day, Joseph had heard talk in the shop that a big drug distribution was about to go down at this spot. Other agents had traced a shipment out of Mexico headed to the northwest. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together. He’d come out to this part of the shore not to interfere with the transaction, but to see if he could spot who the players were. Investigations like this took a long time. A lot of information had to be gathered, or they ran the risk of the big players slipping from their clutches.

It was nothing to arrest the low-level dealers; most were kids just trying to support their own habit. DEA was after the big fish, whoever was behind this point of distribution. At best, they had blurry photos of him. Or pictures of the back of his head. His only identifying characteristics were that he dressed well and he often wore a large-faced gold watch.

He revved the boat engine. When he glanced over his shoulder, the men on shore were still taking aim at them. He’d come in the boat because he could anchor it in a cove unnoticed and sneak up to the site where the transaction was supposed to happen. A car parked on an underutilized road would have called attention to itself.

The fog enveloped them. To lessen the risk of hitting something, he clicked the boat down to an idle. It had been at least five minutes since the last shot was fired. The woman sat back up. He heard water lapping around the boat, but could see only a few feet in any direction.

He kept his voice low. “So do you want to tell me what you were doing out there at this time of night?”

“What were you doing out there?” Suspicion clouded her words.

He had to assume his cover wasn’t blown. “I like going out there at night. It’s quiet.”

“If you must know, I went up there to pick up a kid before he got himself into trouble. Trevor Bond is in the church youth group I help out with.”

So she ran a church youth group. A perfect way to build trust with kids and then get them hooked. “I know Trevor. He comes into the shop.” Trevor was one of the quiet ones. It broke his heart to think of any of those kids using. “He seems like he has his act together.”

“He’s only six months sober. He’s struggling not to go back into that life. To stay away from the people who got him involved in the first place.”

He caught the note of passion in her voice.

“Anyway, I’m worried about him,” she said. “I still don’t know where he went or what happened to him.” She lowered her voice half an octave. “Or why he ran away. Maybe he’s already in too deep.”

Trevor sounded a lot like Joseph’s little brother, Ezra. For Joseph, being a DEA agent was personal. Always a quiet kid, Ezra had died of a drug overdose when he was just seventeen. Joseph had been a junior in college when he got the call about Ezra. Such a waste of a beautiful life. His heart still ached over the loss.

Though he was not ready to let go of all his suspicions, he thought he detected genuine concern in her voice when she talked about Trevor. “What is your name, anyway?”

“Sierra,” she said. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. “Where are you taking me?”

He glanced over at her. “I’m taking you home.”

She met his gaze. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes were the color of robin’s eggs. There was something almost cute about the way she pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down over her fingers. She really didn’t act like a drug dealer. All the same, she could be a girlfriend of one of those men. The shooters certainly seemed to want to take her out. Men like that didn’t put up with betrayal on any level.

It would be foolish to let go of his suspicions just yet. In any case, he was still irked about her messing up his surveillance.

“Why don’t you take me to the police station? I need to report this. And unless Trevor headed back home, he’s still missing.”

He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Because they suspected one of the local cops was tipping the dealers off, DEA didn’t want the city police getting wind of their activity.

“Or you can just take me to my car,” she said after he didn’t answer. “I can deal with this myself.”

“Obviously it’s not safe to go back there. You can go back tomorrow and get your car,” Joseph said. Her thinking was a little messed up, which was a normal response to the trauma of being shot at. Really, she was handling things quite well overall.

Joseph slowed down, so he could hear above his own motor.

She turned slightly in her seat. “What is it?”

“I thought I heard another boat.”

The fog hadn’t lifted at all. He didn’t see light anywhere.

Sierra whirled to one side and then the other. Her voice faltered. “I hear it, too.”

Joseph killed the motor. He doubted anyone was out for fun on a night like this. The other boat seemed to be circling around them, the motor growing louder and then fading. The motorboat swayed in the water as waves suctioned around it.

“They’re looking for us,” Sierra whispered. Her words were iced over with terror.

Joseph crouched. “Stay low.” Did they wait here and hope the searcher gave up, or did they risk making noise while trying to escape?

He wondered, too, why they were even coming after Sierra and him. He and Sierra been scared off, so why hadn’t the two men just gone back to their planned transaction? Why draw attention to themselves by hunting them down?

A light broke through the fog with the intensity of a knife slicing meat. Joseph could see the outline of a larger boat—and the man behind the helm lifting a gun. It was the man in the baseball hat. The one who had taken aim at them on the shore.

Joseph started the engine and pulled forward. The shot echoed around the boat and had probably lodged in the hull somewhere. His boat gained speed.

The other boat was eaten up by the fog, but not before another gunshot echoed around them. Joseph turned the throttle, hoping to put distance between himself and the other boat.

The roar of the other boat’s motor remained steady in intensity.

His boat slowed and vibrated.

“What’s wrong?”

He gritted his teeth. “We’re in shallow water filled with reeds. We’re not going to be able to get anywhere.” The disorientation from the fog had caused him to get too close to the shore. He revved the throttle, hoping to make some progress.

The other boat rammed into them. Their boat shook from the impact. The man leaped off his boat and reached for Sierra. She screamed and struggled to get away. Joseph lunged toward the man who had his hands around Sierra’s neck.

Sierra twisted her body in an effort to escape his grasp. Joseph heard a loud splash as Sierra and the man both fell into the water. He could see only flashes of movement in the fog.

He dove into the blackness, praying he wasn’t too late to save Sierra from the clutches of the man who sought to kill her.

TWO

Sierra’s lungs threatened to fill with water as darkness and cold enveloped her. Pressure let up on her neck, but the man continued to grab at her clothes, seeking to hold her down and keep her under.

She struggled to get away, bobbing to the surface, gasping for air. She caught sight of a baseball hat floating on the water’s surface. The man grabbed her once more. She got a good look at him before he dragged her underwater again. She went limp, hoping that playing possum would make the man give up. He held on.

She couldn’t hold her breath much longer. Her world seemed to be getting blacker and colder.

She kicked her legs in a final attempt to break free.

Another set of hands grabbed her from above and yanked her to the surface.

She gulped in air as the waves rushed around her.

Joseph’s face was very close to hers. “This way.”

She saw him swimming for only a few seconds before the fog engulfed him. She could hear Joseph’s hands and feet slicing through the water. She followed the sound. The fog caused her to lose her sense of direction. They must be swimming toward the shore. The attacker blocked their way back to the boat. It was useless at this point, anyway.

Noise of her attacker swimming through the water behind her made her move faster.

Joseph called back to her, his voice like a lighthouse beacon. “This way!”

She lifted her hand above her head and kicked her feet, trusting that Joseph was leading her to safety. It was blind trust on her part. Why would a drug dealer be saving her? But she had no choice. She wasn’t sure why, but he’d pulled her from danger twice. She had a chance of getting out of this alive if she followed Joseph.

Death was a certainty if she didn’t. The other man was still moving through the water toward her.

Closer to the shore, the fog lifted enough that she could see Joseph as he stood up and walked onto the rocky beach. She put her feet down in the waist-deep water.

She was jerked back as her attacker grabbed her by the collar. He clamped his hands on her shoulders, seeking to push her under in the shallow water.

She twisted free by angling her body to one side. She ran until she was in calf-deep water. The would-be assassin grabbed the hem of her hoodie. As she struggled to get away, she heard Joseph plunging back through the water.

Joseph landed a blow across the man’s face and then to the stomach. The man groaned and doubled over. Joseph clutched the sleeve of her hoodie and guided her toward the shore. The shallow water weighed on her legs as she pushed through, until her feet touched the hard surface of the beach.

She glanced over her shoulder as they bolted toward the brush. The attacker had recovered and had just stepped on the shore.

Sierra sprinted beside Joseph as the brush turned to evergreen forest. They ran for at least ten minutes. She’d grown up exploring these woods, but it was much harder to navigate in the dark.

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. “Do you know where you’re going?”

Joseph bent over, resting his hands on his knees and sucking air between each word. “Maybe you could help me. I’m new in town, remember?”

Pounding footsteps behind them told her they needed to keep running. Sierra took the lead, zigzagging around trees, searching for a landmark that would orient her.

If she could figure out where the road was, they might be able to get back to her car and escape. As they darted through the evergreens, their pursuer stayed about ten paces behind them.

Fatigue settled into her leg muscles. She shivered from being soaking wet. Though it was summer, the nighttime temperatures only made her colder.

Joseph grabbed her and pushed her to the ground. Fear shot through her. Had he just been waiting for a chance to do her harm? They’d landed in a shallow ditch.

He signaled for her to be quiet as he pressed low to the ground.

Their pursuer ran past. So that’s why he’d knocked her down.

They waited until their pursuer disappeared into the trees and his footsteps faded in the distance.

Joseph jumped to his feet. “He might double back when he figures out we lost him. Where are we going?”

She glanced around, recognizing a rock outcropping though it was covered in shadows. “I think I can get us back to the road.”

She sprinted uphill, still cold, still out of breath. The ground leveled off. Now that she knew where she was, she ran faster. Joseph kept pace with her.

She took in a deep breath when her feet touched the hard-packed dirt of the country road. She’d parked on a shoulder just around the curve. Sierra sprinted as a sense of relief filled her. In less than a half hour, she’d be back at her place, sitting in dry clothes in front of the fire. She’d be safe, but she still didn’t know about Trevor. She’d have to tell the police about the attack. If Trevor wasn’t back at his foster home with his sister, maybe the police could find him. Maybe they would be able to figure out if he had set her up.

A question raged through her head as her feet pounded on the road. Why was that man in the baseball hat so bent on killing her? The question made her shudder. With God’s help, she would get over the attack.

She rounded the curve to where her car was sitting, and slowed her pace as she drew nearer to it.

Joseph came up beside her. “Looks like they slashed your tires.”

Despair spread through her like liquid poured on a napkin. She kicked one of the tires. “Guess they wanted to make sure I couldn’t get out of here.” The notion sent a whole new wave of fear through her. The man she’d seen earlier with the drugs must have done this to her tires while Baseball Hat chased them.

A crashing sound in the trees down below signaled that the attacker was back on their trail.

They needed to get off the road before they were spotted.

Joseph pivoted and headed back toward the shore with only a vague plan in his head. They weren’t going to outrun this guy. Joseph had lost his gun somewhere in the water. They had to find a hiding place. This guy was persistent beyond anything that made sense.

They came out beside the boat that had been wrecked on the shore. It was a big boat with a belowdecks area. Lots of places to hide and take a man by surprise if needed.

With Sierra at his heels, he climbed the ladder and slipped below deck.

She followed him. “Don’t you think he’ll look in here?”

“We’ll be able to hear him if he comes on deck. It’s two against one in a confined space. We can take him by surprise. Let’s see if we can find a good hiding place.”

Below deck consisted of several rooms, including what must have been a galley kitchen at one time, though it looked like it had been scavenged over the years. A skeleton of a counter remained. Sections of the countertop had been pulled off. Doors were missing from the cupboards. A dirty frying pan lay on the floor.

“I don’t see a place to hide.” Sierra paced through the rooms.

The deck above them creaked. Both of them tilted their heads. Could be the wind buffeting the dilapidated structure. The old boat had all sorts of creaking and groaning going on.

Maybe it had been a mistake to come down here. Still, it seemed like the best way to shake or subdue their pursuer.

More creaking surrounded them, and then the distinct tapping of footsteps above them indicated someone was on deck. Joseph’s gaze darted around the room. In a little alcove that had probably been a pantry, he spotted a tarp and pieces of wood.

More footsteps above them.

He ran over and lifted the tarp. She slipped under. He piled some boards on top to make it look haphazard. Then he nestled in beside Sierra.

“We only take him if we have to,” he said. The better scenario would be for the assassin to give up. Taking the man out meant Joseph’s cover might be blown.

They were squeezed into the tight space, their shoulders pressing against each other’s. He could hear her breathing in the dark. Not much light got below deck this time of night. As far as he knew, the pursuer didn’t have a flashlight with him.

The pursuer’s footsteps echoed as he moved through the belowdeck rooms.

Dust filled Joseph’s nose, causing a tickling sensation.

The footsteps drew closer. The pursuer was in the galley. There was a scratching sound and then more footsteps as the man moved around the room.

Joseph closed his eyes and counted. If he thought about how badly he wanted to sneeze, it would only make things worse. The gentle expansion and collapse of Sierra’s body where it pressed against him stopped. She must be holding her breath.

The man took several steps toward them. His feet scratched the dirty floor as if he was turning in a circle.

Silence descended like a shroud. Joseph didn’t dare even swallow for fear of being found. Every muscle in his body tensed. He was ready to jump the guy if he had to.

The man let out a humph noise, and then his footsteps retreated. They waited, still as statues, silent as the night while the footsteps clapped the boards below deck and then creaked above them.

They waited squeezed together in the tight space, not daring to move. Sierra’s hair smelled like the lake. Their damp shoulders touched.

Minutes passed. He lifted his gaze upward. Was the man perched outside, ready to pounce on them once they emerged one by one?

Sierra twitched. She let out a breath. “I think he’s gone,” she whispered.

He moved away from her and pulled the tarp from his face. The hiding place had not been a great one. He was still concerned that the man was watching the boat. Maybe he didn’t want to take on both of them at once in a closed space. For whatever reason, his primary target seemed to be Sierra. Why?

He wondered if she was as innocent as she seemed. A lot of violence in the drug trade was over turf wars.

If she was involved, maybe he could get her to flip, give up some information. The fact that he’d saved her life gave him leverage. But now was not the time to deal with that. He needed to make sure they had truly gotten rid of their assassin.

Joseph cupped her shoulder. “I’ll go up first and let you know when the coast is clear.”

She nodded.

He stepped lightly over the debris and floorboards and then eased up the steps that led to the deck. Once on deck, he crouched behind a pile of rope and boards. He scanned the area around the boat. Moonlight washed over it, but the surrounding area was covered in shadows. He stuck his head back down the hole that led below deck. “Clear.”

The stairs creaked as Sierra made her way up. She stepped on deck and scooted up beside him. They scurried to the edge of the boat. Joseph climbed down the rope ladder first. He waited below while Sierra made her way to the ground.

He pivoted one way and then the other, still listening, still on high alert.

Sierra’s body banged against the boat. She hung on to the broken rope ladder as it swung back and forth. To her credit, she hadn’t screamed, but the noise when she’d hit the boat would have alerted anyone close by.

“I got you.” He reached up, wrapping his hands around her legs and allowing her to slide to the ground as his hands steadied her.

They stood facing each other. His hands were still on her waist. She was close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“It’s not your fault it broke. It’s worn out.” He let go of her and turned, staring out into the brush. “I don’t think he would give up so easily. He’s probably watching the road, thinking that’s the most likely direction for us to go.”

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and pressed a couple of buttons. “My phone is ruined from being soaked.”

He took his phone out, as well. “I’m sure mine is, too.” He stared at the black screen and touched the keypad. Nothing. He’d had it turned off, not wanting to risk it ringing while he was on surveillance. “You know this area better than I do.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have a friend whose cabin isn’t too far from here. She lets me take kids up there.”

“Is there a phone?”

“No, but we can get dried out and eat something. She has some mountain bikes. It will take longer, but we can take the trails back into town. It’s certainly not the way anyone would predict us to get back home.”

He nodded. “Okay. We’ll do that.” Now was as good a time as any to figure out where she was coming from. “You want to tell me why that guy was after you?”

She lifted her chin. “As soon as you tell me why you were out there when a drug deal was about to go down.”

He caught the note of challenge in her voice. Trust between them was tenuous at best.

He wasn’t going to get any information out of her just yet. She was still too defensive and suspicious of him. “Let’s hike to that cabin.”

“It should take less than half an hour to get there,” she said.

Joseph kept pace with Sierra as they made their way along the shore. Even though he had protected her from harm, it was clear she still thought he was up to something.

He didn’t know what to make of her, either. Was she telling the truth about being out there to help a kid? One thing he knew for sure—he had to protect his cover. If she found out who he really was, it could cost him his life.

THREE

Sierra hurried along the beach. Her friend’s cabin was set back from the shore, nestled in some trees. The terrain around this part of the lake was more treacherous and not as developed as it was closer to town.

She was determined to find out what Joseph’s involvement was with those two men. Was he a rival drug dealer, and it somehow benefited him to keep her alive? That assumption didn’t seem to fit his gentle demeanor.

They entered a forested area. She sprinted along a path that could barely be called a trail. The cabin, surrounded by trees, came into view. Her friend had wanted a place that was low profile to get away to write and pray.

It must have been three or four in the morning. The sun wouldn’t be up for another couple of hours.

The cabin was primitive, with only a generator for electricity. She found the key hidden in the coffee can behind a bush. She pushed the door open and glanced back at Joseph. He looked like he’d been dragged behind a truck.

She touched her own hair self-consciously. She probably looked just as bad.

He stared down at his muddy shirt. “Yeah, neither of us is exactly ready for prom night.”

She laughed. He’d picked up on what she was thinking without her having to say anything. He had a nice smile...whoever he was.

She gritted her teeth. Was all that charm just to lure kids into the dark world of drugs? She hoped not.

She stepped inside. “I’ll build a fire. There should be some canned goods in the cupboard.”

Though her clothes had dried out somewhat, she still felt soggy and chilled. Within minutes, the fire sparked to life and heat filled the room. She collapsed in one of the overstuffed chairs that faced the fire.

Joseph spoke to her from the kitchen. “Looks like there’s beans and peaches. Unless you want me to heat something up.”

She touched her growling stomach. “Anything would be nice.” She closed her eyes, feeling like she might cry. Because they welcomed at-risk kids into youth group, she was used to sticky situations. She had seen her own share of violence when she’d stepped into the dark world of drug use. She wanted to help these kids the way she had been helped all those years ago. But she’d never had her life threatened like it had been tonight.

Joseph moved around the kitchen opening and shutting cupboards. The kitchen was only partially visible from where she sat.

He emerged holding two glasses of water. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

She took the glass. He sat down in the other chair and stared at the fire, twisting the glass of water in his hand. “There’s a little cookstove in there. I’ll heat something up for us. If you like, I can make you a warm cup of tea.”

His kindness seemed so genuine. Was he buttering her up for some reason? Drug dealers were good at winning people over. She supposed if he had wanted to harm her, though, he would have done it by now.

She took a sip of her water. The cool liquid traveled down her throat and splashed in her empty stomach. She tilted the glass and took a bigger swallow. “Hot food and tea sounds really good. Let me catch my breath and I’ll help you.”

He gulped down his water.

Her muscles were heavy with fatigue, and she longed for sleep.

Joseph held the empty glass and stared at the fire. “Some crazy night, huh?”

She glanced over at him. She could see why all the teen girls had a crush on him. He was tall. The sun had created honey-colored highlights in his brown wavy, shoulder-length hair. His brown eyes were the color of dark chocolate, and his voice held just the hint of a Southern accent. His skin was deeply tanned. He looked like a surfer who had gotten lost on the way to the coast.

She could feel herself becoming guarded. His question was meant to open up a conversation. He was probing for information for some reason. “Yeah, it was a crazy night.”

He straightened in his chair and stared at the floor for a long moment. “I don’t know what you think about me. But please believe me, I don’t want you to come to any harm.”

He had pulled her from danger more than once. And though he’d had an opportunity to harm her, he had kept her safe. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

He turned to face her. “Why were you out there?”

She watched his unwavering gaze as a tiny bit of trust grew inside her.

“Like I said, I was out there to get a kid. I talked him out of getting involved with the drug trade. I’m not sure why he ran. I’m worried about his safety, but I’m also concerned that he decided to throw in with the drug dealers after all. Those dealers must have shown up early. I thought I had time to get him out.”

Why would he ask the same question over and over, expecting a different answer? That sort of questioning technique was something a cop would do. Was it possible Joseph was on the other side of the law?

“Do you know why the guy in the baseball hat tried to strangle and drown you?”

Yeah, he was definitely acting like a cop. Her whole body convulsed when the memory of nearly dying rose to the surface. She wrapped her arms over her chest.

Joseph reached out and touched her arm. “You’re safe now.” He rubbed her forearm in a soothing way. His touch calmed her. His kindness seemed to break down even more walls.

Joseph put his empty glass on the wood floor. The fire in the fireplace crackled.

She took in a breath, appreciating that he waited until she was ready to talk. “That second man, the one who came out on shore and then disappeared into the trees when we were in the boat—”

“I didn’t get a good look at him. I was trying to start the boat.”

“I saw him earlier in the forest.” A chill penetrated her skin. “He had drugs in a satchel. He was holding a brick in his hand.”

Joseph sat up a little straighter. “Really? What else do you remember about him?”

“Not a lot. Getting shot at kind of wipes things from your memory.” She touched her own wrist. “He had this big gold watch on the hand that held the brick.”

Joseph leaned toward her, his eyes growing wide. “You think you would recognize him?”

She still shuddered at the memory. So much trauma had happened since that moment. She tried to recall the man’s features. “I think if I saw him again I might.” She rose to her feet. “You ask a lot of questions for a guy who runs a skateboard shop.” And carried a gun.

He shrugged. “That other guy seemed bent on your destruction. I was trying to figure out why it was happening...if it will keep happening until that guy is behind bars.”

She paced as anxiety caused her to tense up. The man she’d seen in the forest must be important to the drug trade. Even when they got safely back to town, her life might be in danger. “I should go to the police. They have files, photographs of drug dealers. If I saw him again, maybe it would jog my memory. I got an even closer look at the guy with the baseball hat.”

Joseph didn’t respond.

Every time she mentioned the police, Joseph fell silent. Old suspicions rose to the surface. The words she’d just spoken settled around her. This was all too much. She rested her palm against her face.

Joseph’s voice was filled with compassion as he rose to his feet. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Meaning that I’ll be left alone, right?” She shook her head, still trying to fathom what all this meant.

Joseph squeezed her hand. “Why don’t you sit? I’ll go heat us up some water and food. Then we’ll be back on our way to Scenic View.”

He hadn’t answered her question. “I’ll have to leave a note for my friend so she doesn’t think elves came in and raided her pantry and took her bikes.”

Sierra closed her eyes and listened to Joseph bustling around in the kitchen. He was still being evasive with her. She tensed. More than anything, she wanted to believe that the violence of the night was an isolated incident and that she would be able to go back to life as normal.

Predawn light warmed Joseph’s face as they pedaled the mountain bikes down the trail that led back into Scenic View. The food had revived him somewhat, but he was beyond exhausted, and he had to open the shop in a few hours so he could keep up appearances of being a mild-mannered store manager.

Sierra was talking about going to the police. If one of the local cops was feeding info to the drug network, it could put Sierra in even more danger. He had a choice to make. Could he trust her enough to let her in on his cover and tell her why they needed to leave the police out of this? She probably suspected already that he wasn’t who he said he was.

He stopped on the flat part of the trail to catch his breath. Sierra followed ten yards behind him. She rounded the hill and sailed down the trail toward him.

Sierra braked beside him and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She was pretty in an unconventional way. The thin nose and slanted eyes made her look fragile, like a porcelain doll. He admired Sierra. Whatever suspicions she harbored about Trevor, it was clear she cared about him and the other kids she worked with.

In the distance, the outskirts of Scenic View were visible. The resort hotel built on the lakefront towered over everything. There were only a few boats on the lake at this early hour. Washed in the warm glow of early morning light, the water shimmered.

Mention of the large-faced gold watch led Joseph to believe Sierra had seen the man DEA had been tracking for years, a dangerous man who would go to all lengths not to be identified, judging from the way the man in the baseball hat had gone after her. He had a feeling he should stick close to her for her protection. She could help with his investigation, but not if something happened to her.

“So, do you have a job you need to get to?”

She shook her head. “I work from home. I’m a bookkeeper.”

“You mind hanging out at the shop until we’re sure this whole thing has blown over?”

She glanced at him, and he saw the fear behind her eyes. “I’m still worried about Trevor. I at least need to make some calls and tell the police he’s missing.”

“Why don’t you start by calling around from the shop?”

She shrugged and then her expression grew pensive. “I can’t live my life like a captive. I’ll just go to the police. They can help me.”

“Sure, I suppose.” He didn’t need the local cops sniffing around him or his shop. He pushed off on the bike. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

The wheels whirred up and down the hills until the landscape flattened out and they came to the edge of town. This was an older part of town. The houses were built on bigger lots but were more run-down.

In his short time living here, the town seemed to be a place of contrast. Between rich and lower class. Between old and showy.

The drug problem here was bad and had escalated in recent months. Both bored kids with disposable incomes looking for a thrill and kids trapped in the cycle of poverty were targets. Scenic View was believed to be the hub for drug distribution throughout the Northwest.

They pedaled down the street.

Joseph swung around to the alley of the skateboard shop. He lived in the apartment above the shop. After opening the lower level of the shop so they could push the bikes in to keep them from being stolen, he headed up the stairs. Sierra followed behind him.

He opened the door and stepped inside, hurrying to pick up some workout clothes he’d left on the couch. Glancing around, he realized that his place looked like a total bachelor pad, with dishes in the sink and sports equipment piled in the corner. Why did it matter to him what she thought of his place?

He scooted a box of his stuff out of the way, laughing nervously. “Still haven’t finished unpacking.”

“It’s nice. Cozy,” she said. “And your commute time to work is close to perfect.”

He pointed for her to sit down on the couch. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get a couple hours’ sleep before I have to open up the shop.” Once his clerk came in, he would have to retrieve his boat. “Why don’t we wait on contacting the police. I can stick close to you for a little while until we know that guy won’t be after you anymore.” Though he didn’t want to alarm her—Sierra could potentially identify a man they’d been tracking for years—chances were, her life was still in danger.

She studied him for a moment. “I could use some rest, I guess.”

He hurried over to a closet and pulled out a blanket. “Be my guest. Take the couch.”

“Do you have a landline? I want to make a few calls about Trevor first,” she said.

“In the kitchen.” If she didn’t locate Trevor, she’d probably call the police about him. He couldn’t see the harm in that—the kid needed to be found—as long as she didn’t get the cops poking around his life and figuring out he was undercover.

Joseph stepped down the hallway and collapsed on his bed. He listened to Sierra’s soft voice as she talked on the phone. His jaw tensed. He walked a tightrope here. Sierra was going to need some level of protection. If she knew he was undercover, they could come up with a ruse as to why they were together. She was working for him. Or they were an item.

Out in the living room, things had gone silent. She must have lain down to sleep.

Joseph pulled a pay-as-you-go phone out of his bureau drawer. His work required that he always keep an extra around. He dialed a number and explained the situation to his handler.

“It is your call. If you think you can trust her not to blow your cover,” said the handler. “Clearly, she’s important to the investigation. Maybe her memory would be jogged if we got her to sit down with a sketch artist.”

“I think I can trust her.” He clicked the phone off and closed his eyes. It took him only minutes to drift off to sleep.

Sometime later, the ringing of the phone woke him with a start. He heard Sierra’s voice, this time filled with panic as she talked.

She must have given his number to the people she’d called about Trevor. His chest squeezed tight. Judging from the tone of her voice, something bad had happened.

Sierra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Trevor, where are you?”

“I’m in trouble, Miss M. You need to come and get me. I can’t explain. I’m at Leman’s junkyard. Please hurry.” The line went dead.

She hung up the phone with a trembling hand. Was Trevor’s plea sincere, or was she being set up? The anguish in his voice seemed very real.

Joseph spoke from the hallway where he stood. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Trevor. He’s in trouble.” She turned to face him. “I need to go get him.”

“How did he know to call my number?”

“I gave this number out to the people I called when I was looking for him. He must have gotten in touch with one of them first.” She rested her palm on her chest, where her heart beat erratically. “I have to go.”

“This could be a setup.”

“I know. I also know Trevor’s character and how hard he worked to get sober. I couldn’t live with myself if he was sincere and I left him out to dry.”

“It could be a dangerous situation. Why don’t you let me go?”

“Trevor trusts me.”

“I’m going with you, then,” Joseph said. “You don’t have a car, anyway.”

“I could just borrow yours.” Relief mixed with guilt as she stared into Joseph’s brown eyes. “What about the shop?” The truth was, she would feel better having Joseph’s help. She was still shaken by their run through the forest and being shot at.

“I can call my clerk and tell him to come in early and open up.” He grabbed a denim jacket off the rack where he hung his coats. “Take this. Looks like a chilly morning out there.” He left the room and returned a moment later, wearing a jacket and holding a phone.

“Do you always keep a spare phone around?”

He grinned. “It’s a Boy Scout thing. Always be prepared.” Then he pressed in some numbers on the phone and pointed toward the landline phone. “Make note of the number Trevor called from the caller ID.”

When she checked the number, she realized it wasn’t Trevor’s regular number. More cause for alarm. She wrote it down. Sierra listened while Joseph spoke to the clerk. Nothing in his tone let on that they were facing an urgent situation. “Listen, Jake, something has come up. If you could come in half an hour early and open up the shop, that would be great.”

Joseph listened for a moment and then said, “Okay, thanks.” He hung up the phone and gazed at Sierra.

His eyes seemed to look right through her. There was something he wasn’t saying. He hurried down the hallway and returned a moment later without explanation. They headed out the door, down to his Jeep.

She tensed.

What if they were stepping into a trap?

She still didn’t know why Trevor had run off down at Fisherman’s Crest. She didn’t know where the boy’s loyalties lay. But she did know that she had to give the kid the benefit of the doubt, if there was any chance at all for him to turn his life around. Last night and this morning, when she’d talked to him on the phone, she’d detected the anguish in his voice.

Joseph twisted the key in the ignition. “You’re going to have to give me directions.”

“Head toward the north side of town. Take a left off State Street and follow the road out of town.”

“Easy peasy,” said Joseph.

She appreciated how calm he seemed to be. It helped her to relax, as well, as the morning sun warmed the interior of the car. Maybe this would just be a simple pickup. Sometimes teenagers tended to be dramatic when there was no reason to be.

She glanced over at Joseph as they came to the edge of town. He drove past fields filled with cows, and the road changed from gravel to dirt. They drove for a long time without seeing another dwelling. This place was pretty remote.

Then the junkyard, surrounded by a high fence, came into view. Buses and single-wide trailers served as part of the fence. The man who had owned the junkyard, Peter Leman, had died two years before, leaving no heirs. The county had not had the funds to clean up the area. The No Trespassing signs had not stopped teens from using it as a place to hang out.

“The front gate is locked. We’ll have to park outside and walk in.”

Joseph pulled off the road and killed the engine. “This is a big place.”

“I have a pretty good idea where he might be.” She pushed open her door. “There’s a gap in the fence where we can get in.”

As she hurried around to the side of the junkyard, her heartbeat kicked up several notches. She slipped in between a bus and board fence.

Joseph followed her. He stood beside her, his hand slipped into his open jacket. She saw then why he had gone into the bedroom. He had a gun in a shoulder holster. He thought they might be stepping into something violent, too.

Hadn’t he lost his first gun somewhere on their run through the forest? Maybe it was just for protecting his business, but she wondered why the manager of a skateboard shop would have two guns.

A wall of partially crushed cars blocked her view of the rest of the junkyard. “This place is an accident waiting to happen, but we haven’t been able to keep the kids from coming here.” Sierra maneuvered around the wall of cars.

“I don’t get it. Scenic View has all kinds of recreational possibilities. Why come here?”

“I think it’s the danger factor. Didn’t you like adrenaline when you were a teenager?”

“Still do.” He offered her a brief smile, raising his eyebrows.

The moment of humor that passed between them lightened the tension she felt. She zigzagged through the junkyard, past rows of appliances and piles of tires. There were several sheds on the property that Sierra knew contained old books, magazines and newspapers. Peter Leman had been the ultimate hoarder.

Joseph tilted his head to look up at a mountain of twisted and intertwined pieces of metal. He shook his head. “It’s like an amusement park for junk collectors.”

“There is a big pipe at the far end of the fence where kids hang out.” She glanced around, not seeing any signs of anyone else in the junkyard.

As they made their way through the labyrinth of junk, wind blew around them, causing the metal to creak. Tarps that covered piles of junk flapped in the wind.

She pointed. “The pipe is just on the other side of that motor home.”

He crouched by the motor home. She slipped in behind him, unsure what was going on here. A hundred frantic thoughts zinged through Sierra’s head. Was Trevor safe? Was he even here?

Had the drug dealers set him up to make the call, or had his emergency been an emotional one? Had he decided to ally himself with the dealers after all?

Again, Joseph touched his chest where the gun was. “Let’s take this slow.”

His action sent a fresh dose of terror through her. He was anticipating violence.

FOUR

Joseph pulled his gun and rushed toward the next object that would provide them with cover, in case someone was lying in wait for them in the pipe. He crouched behind a pile of car doors, then lifted his head above them. He could not see the interior of the pipe, but it was easily big enough for a grown person to stand inside.

Though arguing with Sierra about coming out here would have been an act of futility, he still didn’t like the idea of putting her or any civilian in danger.

She’d handled herself fine while they had been running from the drug dealer by the lake. He wondered what made her so tenacious in her need to help this messed-up kid who might have betrayed her.

Sierra leaned close to Joseph’s ear and whispered, “Should I call out for him?”

Joseph shook his head. What if someone more dangerous than Trevor was close by? “You stay here. Let me go.”

She nodded.

With his gun lifted, he ran toward the pipe. The interior came into view. He lowered his gun. There was no one inside, only evidence of what went on there—empty beer bottles and even a syringe. A magazine lay open, its pages flapping in the breeze.

The sight of the debris, of lives being destroyed, made his heart heavy. His baby brother, Ezra, had been so young when he’d overdosed. How did someone with so much to live for get to such a hopeless, dark place?

Sierra came up behind him. She must have sensed his shift in mood. “You all right?”

He pointed inside the pipe, backing away from the memories of Ezra’s transformation from a happy, bright kid to a prisoner of his own addiction. “This kind of stuff makes me angry.” Very few people knew why he had become a DEA agent. The pain still cut deep.

“Me, too,” she said. Her expression softened, and her voice filled with compassion. “I just decide every day, in whatever small way I can, I’ll work to pull a kid from the fire before he or she is consumed.”

He studied her for a long moment, feeling drawn to her. “Exactly.” They were on the same side. Both of them fighting for the same thing, just in different ways.

They searched the rest of the junkyard, finding no one or any evidence that someone had been here recently. When he tried the number Trevor had called from, the phone didn’t even ring on the other end.

“Probably a throwaway phone,” he said.

Frustrated, he slipped outside the junkyard and returned to his car. Sierra followed him. She sat in the passenger seat while he settled in behind the steering wheel and buckled his seat belt.

“Something is going on with Trevor. He sounded scared on that phone call. We have to find him.” She laced her fingers together. Her forehead furrowed.

His heart went out to her. “We need some kind of lead to find him. Kids talk when they come into the shop. They think I’m not listening. And some of them even trust me enough to let me know what they know.”

She turned to face him. “Yes, the skateboard shop is ideal for finding out what’s going on with teenagers. Even the ones who are using drugs.” She narrowed her eyes at him, expecting a response.

This was the moment of truth. “I guess you figured it out.”

“You didn’t act like a shop owner back there in the junkyard. You acted like a cop.”

He tensed. “It’s important that no one else know.”

“I’m good at keeping secrets.” A soft smile graced her lips.

“That man you saw in the forest is very high up in the drug trade.” He placed his hands on the steering wheel. “If we can take him down, it would go a long way to destroying the drug network in this area.”

“So that’s why he sent his henchman after me.” Her voice filled with anxiety.

He turned the key in the ignition and pressed the gas. He wished there was something he could say to lift the burden of worry from her. Sometimes silence was the kinder choice over saying something trite or untrue.

The car rolled up a long hill. “Kind of like a roller-coaster ride,” he said, hoping to distract her from her worry. He aimed the car downhill and coasted, lifting his foot off the gas.

“Yeah, I guess. Never thought of it that way.” She sounded a million miles away as she stared through the windshield.

The car picked up speed. Joseph pressed the brakes, but the car rolled even faster.

So that’s why they’d been lured out there.

The brake line had been cut.

Sierra’s pulse raced as she watched Joseph’s expression change. His features hardened with concern as he pumped the brakes.

He applied the emergency brake, but that didn’t seem to make a difference.

She didn’t need to ask him what was wrong. They were traveling at a dangerous speed on a dirt road. This was a long downhill. Before the road leveled off, they ran the risk of the car flipping.

Sierra gripped the armrest.

Joseph stared straight ahead and clutched the steering wheel, keeping the car to the center of the road. There was a ditch on one side. The gravel at the edges of the road could function like marbles, causing the car to roll over.

Her heart raced, and every muscle in her body turned to stone as they hurtled downhill. The road leveled off a little, but the car kept rolling.

Joseph turned the wheel. The car caught air as they sailed over the ditch. She saw now what his plan was. The field beside the road contained round hay bales. Joseph steered toward one but turned abruptly.

“Still going too fast,” he said, steering around another hay bale. The car bumped over the uneven terrain as the scenery through the window went by in a blur.

“This is it,” he said through gritted teeth.

She looked away as the hay bale filling the windshield drew ever closer. The impact jerked her forward and then back. The car was too old for air bags. The seat belt dug into her skin. The wind had been knocked out of her. She wheezed in a sharp, trembling breath.

The entire car seemed to vibrate from the impact. Metal creaked and groaned.

She opened her eyes.

Joseph put his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

She wondered if she was as pale as Joseph. Her body felt like it was being shaken from the inside out.

She cleared her throat, trying to answer, but managed only a nod.

“Stay put.” He pushed open his door.

She stared through the windshield, which was 90 percent hay bale with only a sliver of blue sky visible. Her hands trembled, and her stomach felt like it had sustained a blow.

Joseph opened her door. He reached across her and unclicked her seat belt. Gently, he took her arm and lifted her up. She collapsed against his chest.

The run through the night, the worry over what was going on with Trevor and the accident had taken its toll on her. She thought of herself as a strong woman, but this was all too much. Joseph must have seen it in her expression. He held her for a long moment. She rested her head against his chest, squeezing her eyes tight to keep from crying. Her face brushed against the soft fabric of his cotton shirt. Finally, she stopped shaking and could take in a deep breath.

She stepped away from the warmth of his embrace, embarrassed that she had fallen apart. “Sorry, I’m just not used to all this.” She pulled a strand of hair off her face and touched her fingers to her lips.

“I’m impressed with how well you held it together.” He squeezed her arm just above the elbow and offered her a faint smile.

She appreciated his effort at calming her, but she was having a hard time accepting what had just happened. “You don’t think those brakes just stopped working because of wear and tear.”

He shook his head. “The car is too bent for me to check the brake line, even if it wasn’t stuck in a hay bale.” He looked back at the car. “We won’t know until we have it looked at, but my guess is we were set up.”

His conclusion sent a fresh wave of fear through her and made her wonder again about Trevor’s innocence.

Joseph opened his door and pulled out his phone. “Might as well get a tow truck out here.”

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. This was her new reality. Being hunted and sabotaged.

“These guys play for keeps.” Her voice held a note of terror. “What do I do now? Go to the police?”

“Not the local cops. We think one of them might be connected to the drug trade.”

Not sure how to respond, Sierra let that news sink in. She knew most of the city police. Some of them she had gone to high school with. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m not the first undercover guy to come to this area. In the past, anytime we involved the locals, the investigation fell apart. I know this kind of relentless violence must be hard for you.” Joseph stopped. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then stared at his phone. “Let me make this call so we can get back to town.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and paced while Joseph made the call. As he talked, giving the tow truck driver their location, she could feel a sense of resolve growing inside her even as she battled with her own fear. She held an important piece to a puzzle and could give kids, the kids she worked with, a fighting chance at a decent life.

Joseph finished the call. “I want to help you as much as I can to put this guy away,” Sierra said.

He locked her in his gaze. “You would put yourself at risk like that?”

“Yes. Years ago someone did that for me.” She took in a breath. “A teacher who cared about me saved me from the druggie house I was staying at.” Sharing this information about her past was always scary. “I need to pay it forward. I’ve seen what drugs do to the soul. If I can help even one kid, I have to do it.”

A look of admiration spread across his face. “Well then, I guess you better hang close to me until we can figure out who that guy you saw in the forest was. If he has been arrested before, he’ll be in our database.”

There was no judgment in his demeanor, only acceptance. She felt closer to him in that moment, knowing that she had shared the most shameful thing about herself and he had not rejected her. “I know another dealer might take his place, but every one of those guys who gets put away means my kids are helped.”

She stared out at the landscape and then out on the road. They had gone miles out of town. The tow truck driver wouldn’t be here for at least twenty minutes. Though there were fields and cows, the farmhouse they belonged to could be miles from where they were. This area was pretty far from civilization.

Joseph glanced over his shoulder. His posture stiffened, sending a new wave of fear through her. He whirled around to face her, concern etched in his facial features.

Suddenly he tackled her. She fell to the ground just as the zing of a rifle shot filled the air.

Once he knew Sierra was out of the line of fire, he rolled free of her and crawled back toward the nearest hay bale. Hardly the best cover, but it was what they had to work with. A second shot shattered the silence around them. Still crouching low, he stumbled to his feet and darted toward the next hay bale with Sierra on his heels.

He grabbed Sierra’s hand and pulled her to the far side of the bale.

Sierra spoke between breaths. “Where did that come from?”

“Truck at the top of the hill.” The straw of the bale felt itchy against his back.

“They must have been behind us. When they saw we survived the car sabotage, they decided to finish the job.” She put her palm on her chest.

“We can’t wait for the tow truck driver. We’ll have to head cross-country. Stay off the road.” He looked directly at her. “Ready to make a run for the next hay bale?”

They darted from one hay bale to the next. Joseph looked over his shoulder. The truck had made its way down the hill and was headed toward the field. They couldn’t outrun a truck.

“You keep going. I’ll let him get close enough. See if I can take out his tires with my pistol.” He pulled his gun from the shoulder holster.

She nodded and took off running. He watched her dive behind a hay bale before turning his attention back to the oncoming truck. He could see only one person behind the wheel, no passenger.

He crouched low and pressed against the hay bale. A handgun had decent accuracy at short distances. His heart pounded against his rib cage. The truck loomed closer. The roar of the motor seemed to surround him. He jumped up and took aim, hitting the front tire closest to him and then rolling free of the trajectory of the truck.

The truck stuttered but continued to roll forward. The driver turned his wheel and aimed right for him. Joseph stood and took a second shot at the other front tire. The bullet zinged off metal. He’d missed. Then he aimed a third shot through the windshield, not to kill but to disorient.

The truck came to a stop as the driver picked up his rifle and pointed through the shattered windshield.

Joseph dropped to the ground and rolled toward a rusty metal trough. Once he had some cover, he lifted his head and lined up a shot to go through the other front tire. He pulled the trigger, then burst to his feet, not taking time to see if he’d hit his target.

His legs pumped as the fear of death energized him. He sprinted toward the next hay bale. A rifle shot zinged through the air, but it was aimed toward Sierra, who was running for the cover of a cluster of trees. He breathed in a quick wordless prayer for her safety.

Joseph dove behind a hay bale and pressed his back against it. He peered around to see the shooter stalking toward him. The man wore a different colored baseball hat pulled low over his face, but he had the same build as the man who had come after them down by the lake.

Joseph glanced in the direction Sierra had run, making his way toward the trees. He entered the trees and came out on the other side. The hay field ended and the land sloped upward.

He spotted Sierra ahead, running toward the road. She slowed when she looked back and saw him. He put his gun back into the shoulder holster and headed toward her.

The land reconnected with the road. Sierra waited for him, resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath. He met up with her, glancing down to where he had just been. The shooter emerged from the cluster of trees.

Sierra’s eyes grew wide when she followed the line of his gaze.

Both of them crouched and headed toward the far side of the road, where there was a ditch. A rifle shot stirred up dirt on the road and pummeled his eardrum.

Staying low, they crawled along in the ditch.

In the morning light, he could see the outskirts of Scenic View and the lake shimmering in the distance. Though cutting across the field had brought them closer to town, it had to be a long jog to get to the edge of town, longer if they had to dodge bullets and stay off the road. He doubted the shooter wanted witnesses, so once they were around people or on a part of the road where there was traffic, they’d be safe. Or maybe they could flag down the tow truck when it came.

Sierra was still breathless from running. “We can cut across country. Head through that field there.” She pointed toward a barbed wire fence where cows grazed and plodded around.

She knew the countryside better than he did. He followed her lead, slipping through the barbed wire and climbing over. When he looked back, he didn’t see the shooter.

“Pick a cow,” he said.

He rushed over to a black heifer who chewed away at a tuft of grass. He lined his feet up with the cow’s back feet so they wouldn’t be spotted. He’d been a DEA agent for nearly ten years. In all that time, there had never been a training exercise in which they had to use livestock for cover. Despite the danger they still faced, something about that struck him as funny. He smiled and shook his head as he ran to hide behind another slow-moving cow.

Sierra darted behind a cow shelter, a three-sided wood structure. Joseph lifted his head just above the cow’s back, stepping sideways as the cow ambled toward some grass. The shooter paced up and down along the road, looking out across the field and then up the road, clearly confused as to which way he and Sierra had gone.

Joseph heard the rumble of a truck engine in the distance. The tow truck he’d called came into view around a curve. The shooter darted off the road and headed toward the cluster of trees, probably not wanting to be spotted.

The driver was going too fast to give Joseph time to get up to the road and flag it down. He watched the tow truck disappear around another curve. They couldn’t get back to their wrecked car without being shot at. The shooter blocked that path to safety. He was in the cluster of trees between the road where the tow truck had gone and where they were. The tow truck’s appearance bought him and Sierra valuable seconds when they would not be shot at. He ran toward the cow shelter where Sierra waited. If they crouched and ran in a straight line, the shelter would keep them from being spotted.

He held his hand out to Sierra. Her fingers gripped his as she pulled herself to her feet. He locked her in his gaze as her touch sent an electric charge through him.

“Stay low. I think we can make it back into town,” he said.

Fatigue settled into his muscles as he made his way to the edge of the field and climbed through the barbed wire fence. Sierra seemed to be tiring, too. They cut across country through an aspen grove.

He stopped, leaning against a tree and looking over his shoulder. No sign of the shooter. Sierra pressed her back against a tree and slid to the ground. Even though weariness was evident in her features and she was muddy from their run through the field, he was drawn to the light he saw in her eyes and the way her mouth turned up in a faint smile.

She rested her head against the tree trunk and let out a heavy breath. “That was something.” Her expression grew serious. “I suppose we shouldn’t stay here for long.”

“I don’t see him, but yes, we can’t take any chances.”

She pushed herself to her feet. Her blue eyes studied. “Let’s get moving, then.”

The green aspen’s leaves shimmered like coins in the morning light, making a melodic rustling sound in the breeze. His heart beat a little faster when she looked at him. Sierra had shown herself to be a brave, quick-thinking woman. “You do okay for a bookkeeper.” He reached over and pulled a piece of straw out of her silky dark hair.

The gesture seemed to make her aware of her appearance as she brushed her dark hair off her face and then looked away. “Thanks.” Color rose up in her cheeks.

He pulled himself free from the moment of attraction and angled his body around the trees. The shooter was making his way across the field, slowed by having to carry the rifle but tenacious in pursuit of his prey.

Joseph’s heart revved up a notch. His muscles tensed, ready for fight or flight. “Let’s get going. I’m calling the tow truck driver to see if he can pick us up on his way back into town. The shooter has made it clear he doesn’t want to be spotted.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “In the meantime, let’s keep moving.”

The trees provided them with a degree of cover as they rushed toward town and safety. Maybe they would get away this time, but he knew it would just be a matter of hours before the assassin came after Sierra again.

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