Reed rose from the chair and stretched. Maybe he would try to lie down anyway. As he crossed the threshold into the tiny living room, his cell phone rang. The familiar number on his screen flashed and his heart skipped a beat. Dispatch.
He answered, his voice gruff but authoritative. “Atkinson.”
“Sheriff, Emma Pierce contacted me a few minutes ago.” Mona spoke in a rush. “She inherited Jeb Tillman’s place.”
“I know who she is.”
A simple sentence that didn’t begin to encompass the complicated relationship between Reed and Emma. They’d had a serious summer romance ten years ago before reality and different life goals sent them in opposite directions. Since Emma’s move back to Heyworth last month, Reed had done his best to avoid her. A ridiculous notion, considering the town’s size. It was smarter to be polite.
Still, when he’d spotted her in the grocery store last week, the rush of emotion had caught him off guard. Reed had turned on his heel and walked the other way.
“She thinks an intruder has broken into her house,” Mona said.
Reed’s chest clenched. Emma was a widow with a small child. That made her an easier target for criminals looking to steal.
“I’ve dispatched the closest unit but with the storm, they’re more than thirty minutes out,” Mona continued. “Since you—”
“Got it.”
Reed’s ranch bordered Emma’s. He could be at her house in less than five minutes—a huge, potentially life-saving time difference.
“How does she know someone is breaking in?” Reed shoved his feet into worn cowboy boots.
“She didn’t say. I tried to keep her on the phone, but she hung up, claiming someone would call me right back.”
“Contact the unit and let them know I’ll be on site,” Reed ordered. He didn’t want to be accidentally shot by one of his own men.
“Will do.”
He hung up and pulled on his holster along with his jacket. Within moments, he was sliding into the seat of his pickup truck and flying down his driveway.
Possibilities raced through his mind. Violent crime was almost nonexistent in their county, home invasions extremely rare. In this storm, she could have heard the wind rattling the house or had a tree branch shatter a window. Both of those would’ve sounded as though an individual was breaking in. An honest mistake. It’d happened before.
But what if it wasn’t a mistake? It was always the question Reed asked himself whenever he rushed to a potential scene. He treated every case with absolute seriousness. Reed knew, better than most, even small towns like Heyworth had their darker elements.
God, please help me get there in time. Let her and her family be okay.
It’d been a long time since they’d dated, but if Emma was anything like the woman he used to know, she would be first in line to protect her loved ones. Reed battled against the images of her hurt or worse...
No. That wouldn’t happen.
His headlights sliced through the darkness. The old country road was unpaved, narrow and rarely used. It was also the shortest route between his ranch and Emma’s property. His tires ate up the gravel and it pinged against the undercarriage. He was going dangerously fast, but he couldn’t slow down. If something happened to Emma or her family, he would never forgive himself.
Out of nowhere, another truck appeared, racing toward Reed. The vehicle had no headlights on, bouncing down the road at a reckless speed. Teenagers? His office had had a problem with racing on these back roads, but since Reed had become sheriff nine months ago, he’d cracked down on it.
A sick feeling twisted his stomach. Or could this be Emma’s intruder? The truck was coming from the direction of her property. Reed tried to make out the make and model of the vehicle, but in the rain and the dark, it was impossible. He honked his horn, but the truck didn’t change paths. It barreled down on him.
A blinding light filled Reed’s windshield, obscuring his vision. The driver had turned on his brights.
Reed jerked his wheel to avoid colliding with the other truck. His tires hit a slick spot and fishtailed. His heart jumped into his throat. He tapped his brakes, managing to bring his truck back under control before it skidded off the road and into the woods.
In his rearview mirror, the other vehicle disappeared. The driver hadn’t even slowed down.
Shaken and angry, Reed allowed himself half a breath. Under normal circumstances, he would do a U-turn and arrest whoever was driving, but he didn’t have the time for that now. He had to get to Emma.
He raced the rest of the way there. Before making the turn to her ranch, he killed his lights. If the intruder was still inside the house, Reed didn’t want to alert him that law enforcement had arrived. That was a good way to turn a home invasion into a hostage situation.
Rain instantly soaked the shoulders of his jacket. In his haste to leave, Reed hadn’t taken his hat. His hair became plastered to his head, water running in rivers down his face and into his collar. The grass was slick under his boots. Mud splashed the cuffs of his jeans as he ran to the front porch.
He scanned the front door and the closest windows with his flashlight. Nothing. Everything looked locked and secure. Lightning streaked across the sky, and above his head wind chimes danced. He needed to go around the perimeter of the house, look for signs of a break-in. The back door maybe—
The sound of a loud crash turned his blood cold. Emma!
The front door was wooden, old, with a flimsy deadbolt. Thunder boomed, and Reed took advantage. He rammed the door with a well-placed kick. His heel screamed in protest, but the wood splintered.
“Come on, come on...” He focused his energy on the weak spot he’d created. He slammed into the door again. It shuddered and gave way.
He entered the house, his flashlight moving over everything. A
