“Luke!” Claire knelt beside him, but he didn’t move at the sound of his name. Her knees touched something wet and sticky. Dread filled her at the realization of what had happened.
She looked at her hand and saw blood. Luke’s blood.
She stifled a scream. Panicking wouldn’t do any good now. She needed to remain calm. If there was a chance Luke was still alive, she had to get help. She hit the keypad on her phone and tried to dial 9-1-1, but her hands were shaking so badly that she had to reenter the number.
Hang on, Luke!
She had just pressed Send on her call for help when someone grabbed her. Claire screamed and the phone slipped through her fingers and hit the floor with a crack. Her assailant clamped a heavy hand over her mouth and pinned her arms.
His breath was hot against her skin as he hissed into her ear. “You did this. You killed Luke with your meddling.”
Terror gripped her at his words. Luke was dead. This man had killed him, and now he would kill her, too.
She struggled to break his hold, flailing her legs against a desk. It toppled over, taking the one beside it down, too. The wood and metal clanked against the tiled floor. She tried again to scream for help, but his heavy hand over her mouth prevented the sound from escaping. And who would hear her anyway in an empty school?
Oh, God, help me!
She was going to die right here in her classroom alongside one of her students.
* * *
Trixie. In his school.
DEA agent Matt Ross jiggled the handle on the southwest door by the cafeteria, and it opened just as Luke had assured him it would. He examined the lock and saw it didn’t latch properly, preventing the locking mechanism from catching. He wondered how long it had been that way and how many Lakeshore High students had taken advantage of such a lack of security for skipping classes.
Luke had already assured him others knew about it. In fact, Lakeshore High had become a popular drug drop because of the failing security measures in the years since Matt had graduated.
He couldn’t believe Trixie was in his old school. When he’d seen the report about a new and popular drug in his hometown of Lakeshore, Tennessee, he’d asked for the assignment to track down the suppliers. And Luke had been a wealth of information about the operation. The kid knew more than he should and was eager to share it with the DEA. The one thing he hadn’t yet given Matt were names. Names of his supplier and the major players in the drug market in town. Matt hoped today he would finally get that information from Luke. The kid was scared. That was to be expected. Trixie might be a new drug, but it was already gaining popularity in the major cities and money was rolling in. Luke could find his very life in danger if anyone discovered he’d been talking with the DEA. Luke had chosen the school as a safe place to meet, sharing with Matt the information about the easy access through the southwest entrance.
Suddenly, a scream lit up the air.
Matt reached for his weapon, his entire body suddenly on alert. The school was supposed to be empty except for him and Luke, but that sounded like a woman’s scream. He moved through the dark hallways, following the sounds of a struggle.
Everything went quiet...too quiet too suddenly. He peered cautiously into the classroom where he was sure the sounds had come from. A faint light on the floor revealed overturned desks. A struggle had definitely occurred here.
His gut clenched. Was he too late?
He moved slowly toward the light on the floor, now realizing it came from a dropped cell phone. Luke’s? He spotted a shadow on the edge of the light and took a step closer, catching the outline of a body sprawled between the desks.
Luke.
He reached down and felt the boy’s skin. It was cold. Luke was dead.
He raised his gun and scanned the room, his eyes already adjusting to the darkness. He’d trudged through darker environments during his time with the army rangers, but what he wouldn’t give right now for a pair of night vision goggles. Someone was there in the darkness, though. He sensed their presence. Was the killer still on campus? Still in this room?
He pulled out his phone, clicked on the flashlight function and scanned the room again. He heard faint, muffled sounds coming from one corner of the room and he moved in that direction, his gun drawn and ready and his intuition on fire. The killer was still here.
“Let’s just end this right now.” Matt spoke through the darkness to the assailant, hoping for some sort of movement or change in breathing to pinpoint exactly where he was hiding.
He heard it again, that muffled grunt. It seemed to come from right in front of him. Suddenly, a figure in the darkness moved and someone was barreling toward him. He jumped back, then realized it was a woman being shoved at him. He reached out his arms and caught her, but the force of the assailant’s push knocked him backward and he hit the floor. The lady fell on top of him, landing on his chest. He noted she was petite and light, and he caught the scent of berry shampoo as her long hair fluttered near his face. His cell phone clattered to the floor and the assailant ran out the door. Matt still had his gun in his hand, but he didn’t dare fire into darkness.
The light from his phone illuminated Luke’s face only inches away from them. The lady in his arms screamed and scrambled away, frightened.
“Are you okay?” Matt asked her. He reached for her arm and felt her quivering with fear. “Are you hurt?”
“I—I’m fine, but Luke...”
“I know.” He leaped to his feet. “Stay here.” He rushed out of the classroom and down the hall, his gun trained and ready, but when he saw the southwest door he’d closed standing open, he knew whoever had been here had fled.
He returned to the classroom and pulled open the window blinds, filling the room with sunlight.
He turned, surprised by the woman on the floor beside the body. He instantly recognized her petite frame, flowing dark hair and wide blue eyes as they stared up at him.
Claire Kendall. His former fiancée.
The love of his life.
The woman whose life he’d almost ended ten years ago.
* * *
In all the years she’d imagined bumping into Matt Ross again, Claire had never once imagined it would be over the body of one of her students. She stared up at him. He looked so different and yet so much like the Matt she remembered. He’d always been tall, but he seemed to have added a few inches since high school. The long arms and legs that had once been gangly were now solid and muscular and his chest and shoulders broad, a man instead of the boy she’d known ten years ago. His blond hair was cut shorter than she’d ever seen it, but she supposed it was longer now than it had been during his time in the army. His face was fuller, but his hazel eyes were still intense and his features sharp and handsome.
He knelt beside her. “Claire, what are you doing here? How do you know Luke Thompson?”
She was shocked that he knew Luke. “I’m a teacher at this school. This is my classroom. Luke is one of my students. How do you know him?” She recognized that troubled look on Matt’s face and grew worried. “How do you know Luke?” she asked him again.
He helped her to her feet. “There’s blood on your clothes.”
She glanced down and saw dark stains smeared on her jeans and blouse. Her hands were also covered in blood. Luke’s blood. “It’s not mine.”
“You’re shaking.” He took off his jacket and slipped it across her shoulders. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She