Visions of her kissing him filled his head. The way she’d fit inside the circle of his arms, soft and feminine but stronger than he’d expected. The way her lips had melded instantly to his, like she’d been imagining it since the moment he’d first helped her up off the icy Desparre street.
Then the vision shifted, moved into territory he had no business imagining. Of her back at his cabin, standing in front of the fire as she dropped her coat to the floor. As his fingers found their way underneath the hem of her sweater and his lips traced a path from her mouth down to the pulse at her neck. As he lingered there, pulling her body closer until there was barely any space between them.
“I think I might have just met Alanna’s kidnapper.”
It took a minute for him to process Kensie’s words, for them to penetrate the increasingly erotic vision in his head. Once they did, he slowed the truck to a stop, pulling over as far as he could, and turned to face her. “What?”
“I know it sounds crazy and at first I thought I was just imagining things.” Kensie spoke at warp speed, reaching out to clutch his arm as if to keep his interest.
As if that was a problem. “Who is it? Why didn’t you come and get me?” And why was she just now mentioning this?
“I don’t know his name, but I got his picture.” She let go of his arm to fumble in her pocket and pull out her phone.
When she turned it to show him, he squinted at it a long minute, trying to place the guy. “I recognize him. He’s lived here a long time.” Colter tried to come up with a name, but couldn’t. “I think he’s got a place on the outskirts of Desparre somewhere. Comes in periodically for supplies. Usually to the spot we just visited, not the main part of town.” He lifted his gaze from the phone. “Did you ask the store owner, Derrick? He could probably tell you this guy’s name.”
Kensie shook her head. “Derrick wasn’t there. Just a kid who was working the counter.”
“So, this guy who came into the store for supplies...why do you think he has Alanna?”
“He looked familiar.”
Colter tried to keep the disbelief off his face. She’d been just a child when her sister had been kidnapped. “You got a good look at the guy back then? How close were you?”
How close had she come to being grabbed alongside Alanna? The idea made him nauseous.
“I was across the yard. I wasn’t close enough to help her.”
Kensie’s voice was so mournful that Colter reached out without thinking and twined his fingers with hers. She clutched tight instantly, as if by instinct, and his heart pounded harder.
“You were thirteen years old, Kensie. What could you have done?” Besides get herself kidnapped—or worse?
“I should have done something. It was my responsibility to watch out for her that day!”
“That’s not fair, Kensie. You can’t carry that burden.” He stared into her eyes, watching them darken with anger or frustration. Who was he to talk about the burden of survivor’s guilt? But when it came to this, he knew he was right, so he pressed forward. “And look what kind of sister you’ve been. All these years later and you’re here, searching for her, when even law enforcement won’t.”
It didn’t seem possible, but she squeezed his hand even tighter. “Thank you for helping me,” she whispered.
Kissing her yesterday had been a mistake. He knew it. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to lean forward and do it again right now.
It took more willpower than he’d thought he had to resist that urge. Instead, he asked, “How sure are you about this guy you saw in the store?”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Not sure at all. But he ran when I asked him about my sister.”
Colter frowned. He didn’t even know the guy’s name and yet he couldn’t imagine the loner being a child kidnapper. But even though Desparre locals tended to be wary of strangers, running away from questions was suspicious. And, absolutely, something sounded off about the guy.
The question was, had Kensie spooked him? If so, would he run before they could figure out if he had Alanna?
“EITHER HE’S THE one who kidnapped Alanna or he knows who did.” Kensie spoke the words with certainty, tapping the picture she’d snapped before the guy had run away from her as fast as he could.
Colter frowned, like he was unconvinced.
But still, he’d brought her here, to a cozy restaurant-slash-food-store halfway between the snow supply warehouse and downtown. Apparently, the owner had lived in the area all his life and Colter claimed if anyone could tell them more about their suspect, it was him.
Their suspect. It sounded like something a detective would say, one of the overworked, tired-looking officers assigned to Alanna’s case. We have a suspect, but don’t get your hopes up. She’d heard those words a few times over the years, but they’d never led anywhere, even though she’d always gotten her hopes up.
This time had to be different. She refused to consider any other possibility. She wasn’t sure she could handle another disappointment.
Just the idea of returning home without Alanna made pain lodge behind her breastbone, where it always did when she thought about how long her sister had been gone. Over the years, she’d had moments where she’d felt like maybe she could come to terms with the cold, hard statistics that said Alanna was long dead. But those moments were always fleeting, either because the idea was too much to bear or because she and her sister had always shared a special connection. Wouldn’t she feel it in her heart if Alanna was gone?
The idea was foolish. Intellectually, she knew it. But she still believed.
“What
