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Thank you to all my writing buddies for your encouragement through the years on this long writing road. It’s been an adventure, to be sure. And special thanks goes to my family—thank you for putting up with me while I get lost in my writing world. I couldn’t do this without you. Elizabeth Mazer—I’m so grateful for the opportunities you’ve given me to write for you. To my agent, Steve Laube, thank you for seeing something in me, for believing in me.
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Only three more miles...
Rain pelted Jonna Strand as she jogged the wintry Washington shoreline. Her cheeks grew numb from the wet cold as white vapor clouds puffed out of her burning lungs.
But as focused as she was on her run, a subtle alarm snaked up her spine.
She’d learned long ago to pay attention to that sixth sense that forewarned of danger. The alarm going off now had nothing at all to do with the storm that had advanced from far out in the Pacific faster than meteorologists had predicted, catching Jonna off guard.
She remained on high alert—a souvenir from her previous training as an ICE agent. More specifically an HSI special agent—the Homeland Security Investigations division of Immigration and Customs Enforcement. She’d put that life behind her, but the training remained.
Jogging six miles every day, she made an effort to stay as fit as she’d been while in law enforcement, the job she’d left three years ago. Even brutal winter storms couldn’t keep her inside. Except weathermen had predicted this system would wreak havoc and threaten lives—so maybe she should have stayed inside, especially given that her instincts warned another possible threat loomed.
Up on the ridge overlooking the beach, a man jogged, keeping pace with her. Only a crazy person would be out in this storm. She could almost laugh at that.
But she felt something was off.
Jonna shoved the apprehension aside and focused on her jog. She’d know soon enough if her instincts were right.
