She dug through her bag of hodgepodge clothing, smashed together and wrinkled beyond recognition. The day she’d hastily gathered those things seemed like something she’d seen in a movie rather than a moment she’d been part of. Of course, Blake had been right to insist she go into his protective custody. Nash had been watching her even then. Standing right outside her window, taking photos and stalking silently from the tree line.
She swept a dose of mascara over her eyelashes and dotted gloss on her lips. Blake and West knew what they were doing, and so did their teams. They would get Nash, and the worst part about today would be saying goodbye to Blake when the case was closed.
Marissa wandered to the couch and checked on the deputy again before turning on the television. Maybe the local newscasters had information that she didn’t. Any form of update would go miles toward settling her worried heart.
A commercial for a local burger joint was cut short by the Breaking News logo. Marissa pulled her feet onto the couch and crossed her fingers for good news. Maybe even an image of Blake and West hauling their bleeding nemesis from the forest.
Instead, fire trucks filled the screen and the news anchor bobbed into view outside an inferno. “I’m here at the Winchester Farm where a propane tank explosion has rocked several acres and a number of nearby homes. The tank exploded suddenly while the family worked in a neighboring field. First responders can be seen administering triage, but there’s no official word on the number of injured or severity of their burns. The Winchesters’ youngest child, Emma Grace, has gone missing in the chaos and local deputies are searching the area on foot for signs of the missing toddler.”
The camera panned from the reporter’s face to the mess behind her.
“Hey!” Marissa scolded the screen. She squinted at the line of deputies moving slowly through the tall grass field. Those guys were supposed to be at the national forest helping Blake. The idea that this timing was too poor to have not been choreographed niggled in her mind.
She swiped her phone off the couch, and dialed Kara. “Tell me you’re okay,” she demanded at the sound of her sister’s voice.
“Mom’s making me crazy,” Kara scoffed. “I just showed her my driver’s license to confirm my age is not ten.”
Marissa turned on her knees for another look at the deputy outside. “Are you watching the news?”
“It’s all we watch here.”
Marissa’s knee bobbed and her intuition spiked. “Do you think there’s any way the fire could be related to Nash?”
“Which one? The Winchesters’ or the Caswells’?”
“What?” Marissa scooted to the edge of her seat and increased the television volume. “What happened to the Caswells?”
“Barn fire.”
Sure enough, the scrolling feed along the bottom of Marissa’s screen covered a barn fire a mile or two from the propane explosion. If they were Nash’s doing, at least the national forest and both fires were across town from the hotel where she was hiding. Blake and West were still close enough to get him.
“So, they just left,” Kara finished.
Marissa had missed the rest. “What? Who left?”
“Weren’t you listening? I said the Garretts left. The dad and the deputy. The Caswells are good friends of theirs and the wife was hurt. Then, the deputy who stayed behind left ten minutes later to go help look for the Winchesters’ toddler.”
Marissa’s stomach knotted. There was no way this was a coincidence, not when Blake had just taken a team into the national park. “I wish they hadn’t left you alone.” She couldn’t bring herself to be angry with the men who’d left her parents’ house. What else could they do when lives were in immediate danger? They had to go.
“Maybe you should come here,” Kara said. “Ask your detail to bring you over before he gets called away, too.”
Marissa nodded. She should talk to the deputy. Make sure he would take her somewhere else if he was needed at the scene of another crime or tragedy. At the very least, he could check in with Blake and West about what to do. She certainly didn’t want someone else to be denied the help they needed because she was monopolizing a deputy.
She hoisted herself upright and stuffed her feet into sneakers, then tossed a jacket over the crook of one arm. “Let me see what he says, and I’ll call you back.”
“You’d better,” Kara said. “I love you.”
“Love you.” Marissa disconnected and steadied her nerves. If Nash had drawn all the lawmen away so he could come for her, would this deputy be able to handle him on his own? Nash had escaped Blake twice. He was smart enough to have possibly created this elaborate web of confusion for authorities. She peeked at the deputy once more. Maybe it would help if the deputy came inside instead of standing guard at the door like a neon sign announcing her whereabouts.
A worrisome chill filtered through her thoughts once more. Had Nash already come for Blake? Had he lured him into the forest to kill him?
Slowly, her world began to tilt and spin. Nash could be anywhere. He could be out there, hurting the people she loved, and there was nothing she could do about it. Except, come inside and barricade the door. There was still strength in numbers.
She unlocked the dead bolt and turned the knob.
The door snapped against her chest, knocking her into the wall and onto the floor.
Nash marched over the threshold with a sick, smug-looking smile. “Hello, lovely.”
Chapter Fifteen
Blake stepped carefully through the fallen leaves of the national park, determined not to lose Nash’s trail or destroy evidence with haste. He and West had parted ways with their teams, fanning out to cover more territory when the blood had seemed to disappear completely. Blake’s agents had entered the forest two miles away, where the river behind Marissa’s house met the national park. If the intel was good, covering the area in
