being in Ryan’s presence, too. As for surviving the attempt on her life—would there be more attempts? Would one of them succeed? Her sister hadn’t survived when someone had tried to kill her. Tori almost sagged under the weight of loss.
A tear trailed her cheek as she stared down at her cell. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do without her sister in her life, but the truth was they hadn’t exactly been in each other’s lives that much since Tori had moved across the country. She’d told herself that they’d make up for lost time later, with phone calls or visits. That chance no longer existed now.
The knowledge that Sarah was gone, taken from this world by a murderer, flayed her and left her raw and bleeding.
She finished the text and looked up at him again. Waves of remorse and a thousand conversations she wanted to have with him rushed through her. Tori tried not to shudder. She didn’t think he’d missed that, because Ryan had always been sharp and could read people even when they tried to hide something. Especially when they tried to hide something.
And years ago, he’d had an uncanny ability to read her. Had that changed?
Fifteen minutes later, they sat in a booth at a coffee shop. Tori had suggested they have their talk over coffee. Ryan had obliged. Coffee ordered, Tori resisted the need to take painkillers. Her shoulder had been wrapped, and she’d been given blood. She’d heal, with or without the painkillers, and she wanted her mind to stay clear. Somehow, she had to toughen up and see her way through this.
Ryan studied her. Scrutinizing her again?
“Would you please stop?” She rearranged the condiments.
Frowning, he shook his head. “Stop what?”
“Please stop looking at me like you’re dissecting me. I’m not a frog. This isn’t Biology 101.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No? I see you making mental notes that Tori Peterson doesn’t like to be studied. I’m not a suspect, so you can quit with your intimidation tactics.”
He shrugged. Then he shifted forward in the booth, a frank expression on his rugged face. “I’m worried about you.”
“This is just a gash in my arm.” He had no idea yet of the real reason why he should be worried. She vaguely remembered the pain of that rocky outcropping gouging her, but at least she wasn’t dealing with a bullet wound to her head or her chest.
“What were you thinking, going over those falls?” He’d asked the question before and wanted an answer.
She kept her voice low and said, “It was not exactly my choice.”
The waitress brought their coffee. Tori poured half-and-half in hers. Ryan sugared his up too much for her taste.
“What are you saying, Tori? That you weren’t kayaking alone? That you didn’t go over the falls?”
“See, this is what I wanted to talk about.” She took a sip of coffee and let it warm her belly, then leaned back. She shut her eyes and calmed her breathing. Let herself remember.
Tori opened her eyes. “I thought I was going to die when I went over the falls. I fought to survive and somehow...somehow I did survive. I woke up and coughed up water. Maybe the couple who pulled me from the river revived me. I don’t know. But I do remember now that I said your name, Ryan.”
Deep lines carved into his forehead and around his mouth. “Tori, I—”
“I went to the river today to travel in Sarah’s path.” That, and she’d needed to remember what it was like to be on the river at the base of Mount Shasta. She’d needed to remember Sarah. “I’m staying in her house. I’m on bereavement leave now.” She held back the furious tears that surged unexpectedly. “So I went kayaking along the river. That’s what the four of them were doing that day, wasn’t it? They were camping and had their kayaks, so we know they had planned to go down the river.”
“Why would you torture yourself like that?” His expression twisted into one of severe pain. “Is that why you went over the falls?”
Her heart felt like it might just rip open at the realization that he really seemed to believe it had been a suicide attempt. She’d thought he knew her better than that. “How could you even think that? I planned to turn back. But someone shot at me and hit the kayak. I tried to get away and in the end, I had nowhere else to go but into the water. I thought I could get to shore once I put some distance between me and the shooter, but the falls grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. You know how strong the current is the closer you get to Graveyard Falls.”
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
