Ryan’s mouth hung open as if he couldn’t quite absorb the full meaning of her words, and he appeared to search for an adequate response but came up empty. Tori decided to fill the silence herself.
“Someone tried to kill me.”
* * *
Stunned at her claim, Ryan somehow found the strength to close his mouth. Then to form words. “Are you sure?” Entirely lame and inadequate words. He knew as soon as they escaped his lips, but especially after the glare she gave him. She didn’t like that he’d questioned her.
As an FBI agent, she thought herself superior to him. He knew that with certainty because that was why she’d wanted to join the feds to begin with. And suddenly he was thrown back in time. He’d never been good enough for Tori Peterson. Nor would he ever be good enough.
But he didn’t care to be good enough for her now. Finally, he could let go.
Keep telling yourself that.
“Of course I’m sure. Why would you doubt me?” She narrowed her eyes and studied him. Must be her turn to analyze him.
He wasn’t intimidated by her FBI-schooled expression. Instead, he was terrified that her words could be true. “I didn’t say I doubted you. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve suffered a great loss. I’m concerned, that’s all.” He wanted to believe that her memories of what happened were false memories brought on by the trauma and her injury. Ryan didn’t want to even entertain the possibility that someone had actually tried to kill Tori.
“You don’t believe me? I can prove it to you, Ryan. Let’s go find the kayak. You can look at the bullet holes yourself. We can gather evidence together.”
“You’re not part of my investigative team.”
She pursed her lips. “But I am going to investigate, whether you want me to or not, so wouldn’t it make more sense to work together? Especially if the attack on me is in any way tied to Sarah’s murder. What do you think, Detective Bradley? That Sarah’s death was a random act of violence—four kids killed by someone out on a shooting spree while camping? Or that maybe they stumbled upon something they shouldn’t have seen? Or did someone kill four kids to cover up one murder? On any of those possibilities, do you think the murders are drug-related?”
Okay. Well, sure, that it was drug-related was his working theory for now. Wasn’t it almost always drug-related no matter the crime? He said nothing, wondering what she’d say next—what she’d reveal. She’d called the victims kids, but they had been in their twenties. Still, Tori considered Sarah her kid sister growing up and that obviously hadn’t changed. He understood because he had three siblings himself.
Katelyn was his twin sister, then there was his brother Reece, who was two years older, and Benjamin—Ben—who was three years younger. He couldn’t imagine losing any of them.
How was Tori even holding it together?
“Fine. You don’t want to answer now. We can talk on the way to the river. Are we going or not?” Her determined tone and severe frown left no doubt as to her resolve.
Of all the times for him to crack a smile—but he couldn’t control himself. He’d always loved it when she got fired up over something she believed in. So feisty and determined. Did she realize how much Sarah had idolized her? Sarah had wanted to be just like her sister, and had found her own passionate way to serve people by involving herself in social justice issues. Tori had taken a different route but fought for justice all the same. And when she was on the hunt for answers, nothing and no one could make her stop. He knew she was right that he wouldn’t be able to stop her from investigating, but he’d torture her a few moments longer with a wry grin before he’d announce his decision.
Meanwhile, he took his time admiring her new look. She’d cut her long brown hair shorter so that it hung to her shoulders, and she’d dyed the silky tendrils a soft golden blond that was growing out and revealed hints of brown. Ryan remembered her smile—she’d always had the most amazing dimples that drove him wild and made him want to kiss her.
Even now, with the mere thought of it.
He cleared his throat and forced his impartial face in place. He was such a liar. “Let’s go.”
* * *
In his unmarked utility vehicle belonging to the Maynor County Sheriff’s Department, he drove toward the river. He would radio for assistance once he got a look at the kayak himself to confirm Tori’s claims. He wanted to see the bullet holes first. Ryan held on to the small hope that her memory of today’s earlier events was off. If Tori really was being targeted for some reason, that would terrify him but also change the investigation.
As if sensing his need to contemplate what she’d told him, she kept quiet and left him to his own thoughts. He gripped the steering wheel too tightly as he steered the SUV through the small town of Rainey, the town where he’d chosen to live. Rainey had proven to be peaceful and quiet—a place he could go home to at the end of a long day of facing crime puzzles and criminals and simply relax and breathe in the fresh air.
But the murders two weeks ago—just outside of Rainey—had rocked his world. In fact, the whole town of Rainey had been shaken.
Ryan kept driving until he was on the long, curvy road that followed the Wind River. Tall trees hedged the road to either side on this part of the drive and he could barely make out the peak of Mount Shasta as he headed toward the camping and river rafting/kayaking area where Tori told him she had parked her vehicle.
Not far from where four people had been murdered.
He knew the spot well. Had been there too many times to count—with her, no less. He made to turn into the parking area but she touched his arm.
“You need to go all the way down to the base of the falls,” she said. “My kayak is probably downriver, unless someone already picked it up.”
She dropped her hand, but he still felt the spot where she’d touched him.
Of course the kayak would be downriver of the actual falls. He should have thought of that. Being this close to her, he couldn’t think straight. But he’d give himself a break—he hadn’t seen Tori in so long and now she’d been injured and could have died on those falls. He was allowed to be a little distracted under those circumstances.
“Maybe whoever shot at you already grabbed the kayak.” And with the words, he realized he’d lost all hope that she’d been mistaken. He believed that someone had, in fact, shot at Tori Peterson.
Tori was a good agent, and despite the trauma and the grief of loss, she would know exactly what had happened. She’d been trained to have an excellent memory. She glanced his way with an arched brow as though she thought his words were simply more sarcasm.
“What? I believe you.”
Her brows furrowed.
“No, really. I had hoped you were mistaken, I’ll be honest.”
His response seemed to satisfy her and her expression relaxed. “Let’s hope we can find it.”
“Agreed.” He sighed. “We need to talk this through. I take it you think that whoever shot at you is somehow connected to Sarah’s murder.” And also Mason’s, Connie’s and Derrick’s. Four people in their twenties just out camping and having fun, murdered.
“I think it’s highly suspect, don’t you?” She fumbled around in that big bag she called a purse.
Unfortunately, yes. He nodded and maneuvered the road. “I don’t