A curse and a flurry of noise echoed from above, then silence engulfed the house.
Trying to discern slight sounds, Shane held his breath. No footsteps thudded toward him. Surely he wasn’t headed for the front door. Maybe...
Adrenaline jerked at his muscles. Was the guy lying in wait for Cassy? Shane narrowed his eyes and hit the button again, listening as the door ground into place, ready to defend if necessary. If it was Cassy they wanted, it was Cassy they’d think they were getting.
Easing around the corner, Shane opened what he judged to be the garage door and slammed it, then slipped back to his hiding place.
A man stood in front of him, silhouetted by the dining-room windows. Muted light glinted off the blade of a knife.
Shane judged the other man’s bulk in an instant. His adversary had two inches and twenty pounds on him. That, and there was the blade of the knife that made height and weight irrelevant.
Well, nobody had ever said going against a drug smuggler would be easy. Ducking his head, Shane lowered his shoulder and charged.
TWO
“You have got to be kidding me.” Cassidy dropped her head against the back of her SUV’s seat and stared through the Trailblazer’s windshield into thick, gooey darkness. It was like Murphy and his laws followed her around, blowing up cars in the parking lot, inviting her ex-husband into her office, knocking her power out in a storm just as her garage door closed.
There wasn’t a tornado warning she didn’t know about, was there? Because it sure wouldn’t surprise her if she blinked and found herself in a storm-tossed Kansas cornfield.
Maybe she’d forget the idea of her bed and sleep right here. The way things were going, her cell would ring and the soldier on twenty-four-hour staff duty would call her back into work anyway.
Thunder cracked a shudder through her. It was doubtful she’d ever get over the adrenaline rush that came with booming thunderstorms, especially if cars insisted on blowing up outside her office.
The army had been easier when she was younger. Multiple trips to the “Sandbox” of Iraq and the mountains of Afghanistan had sapped her of any form of resilience. That and, apparently, thirty-four was the age when bounce-back time doubled. Her own bed and a sound sleep couldn’t come soon enough. Maybe when she woke up, it would be easier to pretend this entire day had been a nightmare.
Even her metal flashlight felt heavier than usual as she grabbed it from under the seat and opened the car door. It wouldn’t do to survive a war zone only to break her neck tripping over a rake in her own garage.
Reaching across the console, she snatched the paper bag that held her supper. Halfway to their cars, Jackson had received a phone call that forced him to cancel, so Cassidy stopped and picked up a thick, juicy burger at the corner grill near the house. Her stomach urged her to drop to the concrete and inhale the thing right there, but eating in the dark made her nervous, especially after the time she’d spent with all sorts of creepy-crawly critters on the other side of the world. Scorpions and camel spiders would probably always haunt her nightmares. The way they skittered... She shuddered again and gingerly set one foot on the ground, half expecting something to wriggle up her shin.
She inched her way to the kitchen door. Once she made it safely inside with her neck intact, Cassidy killed the flashlight and flipped the mudroom light switch.
Of course. Nothing. A quick glance across the kitchen through the back windows told her she wasn’t the only one who’d be suffering part of this summer night without air-conditioning. She groaned. And it was raining. There wouldn’t be any open windows to relieve the heat. Wonderful.
Cassidy tipped her neck to the side and stretched tight muscles. She still reveled in the spicy smells and warm comfort of her own house after her deployments overseas. Central air and hot showers and overhead lighting were things she’d never take for granted again. Well, she wouldn’t once the power came back on anyway.
A strange sixth sense sent little spider footsteps down her spine and raised cold chills in their wake. Something wasn’t quite right. Must be the darkness. More light. She needed more light. There were candles on the coat closet shelf. She flipped on her flashlight and yanked open the closet door.
Eyes gleamed back at her.
As she stepped back, the paper bag holding her hamburger slipped through her fingers and thudded to the floor. A scream refused to work its way from her lungs to her throat. It stuck somewhere in the middle and blocked her ability to breathe. Before her body could react, a shadowed figure pushed her against the door, body heavy against hers as a hand pressed against her mouth. The flashlight clattered against the linoleum and rolled away.
“Don’t scream.” The hiss grated against her ears.
She struggled and fought the weight that pressed against her. No way was she going out like this, not after all she’d been through. If it was her time to die, she’d make sure her attacker bore marks he wore to his grave. Her body went limp, then she raised her knee, grateful for heavy combat boots and praying to connect with a foot when she forced her heel toward the floor. Her boot made contact with a satisfying thud, and her attacker’s grip loosened and fell away. Cassidy crouched and prepared to launch.
“Cassy, don’t charge. I’m not going to hurt you.” The words came from the menacing shadow directly in front of her.
Cassidy stumbled, and the coiled spring inside of her unwound with a snap as words penetrated her adrenaline-driven thoughts. For the second time in one day, that never-forgotten voice invaded her conscious. Her fists clinched tight. Shane didn’t deserve any less of a beating than a random, violent invader. A flash of lightning burned the shape of him into her eyes as she renewed her attack position. “You’ve got three seconds to get out of my house, Shane. I have no idea what makes you think this is okay.”
“I wasn’t sure it was you coming in, so I hid the first place I could find.” His measured voice moved to the right. “Listen to me. Somebody’s been in—”
“You have got to be kidding me. Isn’t it enough you showed up spouting crazy stories at my job on the most chaotic day ever? Get out.” There was no way she’d listen to anything he had to say. She spotted the beam of her flashlight shining at a crazy angle onto the refrigerator. Every good soldier knew a Maglite had enough heft to be an effective weapon, and it might feel good to swing it if she had to. She snatched it and held it high, prepared to strike. “I will use this on you, and I will call the cops and I will tell them it was self-defense.”
“This is important.”
“I’ve got no reason to listen to you. Know why? Because the years haven’t been long enough to make me forgive you. You’re not my husband. You’re not part of my life. You don’t even exist, as far as I’m concerned. We’re not rehashing this.” The beam of the flashlight arced higher as Cassidy cocked her swinging arm. “Now go.” Her heart beat so hard it pulsed in her eyeballs. It could be fear, anger or...
She shook her head. No. It was fear or anger. Nothing more.
“I know who I used to be. I did a lot of things wrong, but you’ve got to—”
Cassidy’s head tilted back, her jaw jutting between them as if it could block the emotions that struggled to surface. “Don’t try to explain yourself.”
“Fine.” Shane sounded like each breath was an effort, and she could just make out the hulk of his dark shape between her and the kitchen. “I heard a rumor on my last mission, and when I went to check it out—”
“Spare me. Special Forces changed you, and I don’t care about your last mission or any of your other missions. It was bad enough to never know when you were leaving or where you were, but not knowing who you were after you got back? Watching you stumble home after drinking all night with your buddies?” She jerked the flashlight. “Hearing you—”