was his brother Reece, who was two years older, and Benjamin—Ben—who was three years younger. He couldn’t imagine losing any of them.
How was Tori even holding it together?
“Fine. You don’t want to answer now. We can talk on the way to the river. Are we going or not?” Her determined tone and severe frown left no doubt as to her resolve.
Of all the times for him to crack a smile—but he couldn’t control himself. He’d always loved it when she got fired up over something she believed in. So feisty and determined. Did she realize how much Sarah had idolized her? Sarah had wanted to be just like her sister, and had found her own passionate way to serve people by involving herself in social justice issues. Tori had taken a different route but fought for justice all the same. And when she was on the hunt for answers, nothing and no one could make her stop. He knew she was right that he wouldn’t be able to stop her from investigating, but he’d torture her a few moments longer with a wry grin before he’d announce his decision.
Meanwhile, he took his time admiring her new look. She’d cut her long brown hair shorter so that it hung to her shoulders, and she’d dyed the silky tendrils a soft golden blond that was growing out and revealed hints of brown. Ryan remembered her smile—she’d always had the most amazing dimples that drove him wild and made him want to kiss her.
Even now, with the mere thought of it.
He cleared his throat and forced his impartial face in place. He was such a liar. “Let’s go.”
* * *
In his unmarked utility vehicle belonging to the Maynor County Sheriff’s Department, he drove toward the river. He would radio for assistance once he got a look at the kayak himself to confirm Tori’s claims. He wanted to see the bullet holes first. Ryan held on to the small hope that her memory of today’s earlier events was off. If Tori really was being targeted for some reason, that would terrify him but also change the investigation.
As if sensing his need to contemplate what she’d told him, she kept quiet and left him to his own thoughts. He gripped the steering wheel too tightly as he steered the SUV through the small town of Rainey, the town where he’d chosen to live. Rainey had proven to be peaceful and quiet—a place he could go home to at the end of a long day of facing crime puzzles and criminals and simply relax and breathe in the fresh air.
But the murders two weeks ago—just outside of Rainey—had rocked his world. In fact, the whole town of Rainey had been shaken.
Ryan kept driving until he was on the long, curvy road that followed the Wind River. Tall trees hedged the road to either side on this part of the drive and he could barely make out the peak of Mount Shasta as he headed toward the camping and river rafting/kayaking area where Tori told him she had parked her vehicle.
Not far from where four people had been murdered.
He knew the spot well. Had been there too many times to count—with her, no less. He made to turn into the parking area but she touched his arm.
“You need to go all the way down to the base of the falls,” she said. “My kayak is probably downriver, unless someone already picked it up.”
She dropped her hand, but he still felt the spot where she’d touched him.
Of course the kayak would be downriver of the actual falls. He should have thought of that. Being this close to her, he couldn’t think straight. But he’d give himself a break—he hadn’t seen Tori in so long and now she’d been injured and could have died on those falls. He was allowed to be a little distracted under those circumstances.
“Maybe whoever shot at you already grabbed the kayak.” And with the words, he realized he’d lost all hope that she’d been mistaken. He believed that someone had, in fact, shot at Tori Peterson.
Tori was a good agent, and despite the trauma and the grief of loss, she would know exactly what had happened. She’d been trained to have an excellent memory. She glanced his way with an arched brow as though she thought his words were simply more sarcasm.
“What? I believe you.”
Her brows furrowed.
“No, really. I had hoped you were mistaken, I’ll be honest.”
His response seemed to satisfy her and her expression relaxed. “Let’s hope we can find it.”
“Agreed.” He sighed. “We need to talk this through. I take it you think that whoever shot at you is somehow connected to Sarah’s murder.” And also Mason’s, Connie’s and Derrick’s. Four people in their twenties just out camping and having fun, murdered.
“I think it’s highly suspect, don’t you?” She fumbled around in that big bag she called a purse.
Unfortunately, yes. He nodded and maneuvered the road. “I don’t usually believe in coincidence. That’s why I held on to the smallest of hopes that you were wrong about what happened.”
He felt her glare again.
He glanced at her and then focused on the road. “A detective can hope, can’t he? I didn’t want to think that someone had tried to kill you, Tori. And the fact that they did brings up another question.” How did he word this?
“Well, what is it?”
Might as well try. “Someone killed four people, leaving us to speculate on the reasons and focus a lot of resources on finding answers. Why would they draw more attention by shooting at you? What could they hope to gain with that attempt on your life? It doesn’t make sense.” Though when did murder ever make sense?
“I don’t know. I think... I was close to the falls. Honestly, I think they had hoped to send me over to die and make it look like an accident. Maybe they had planned to make sure I was dead, but the couple found me first.”
“But again—why?”
“Maybe they don’t like Sarah’s FBI sister digging into things and planned to head me off before I found out the truth.”
Ryan did not like to hear those words. They meant Tori’s life was in ongoing danger. Man, did he wish this wasn’t happening. Those kids were gone and that was tragic news. It was his job to find their killer, but how did he also prevent another murder, and Tori’s at that? His insides twisted up in knots. Tori was an FBI agent and had faced dangerous situations in her job, but that didn’t make him feel any better about her safety. On-the-job danger was one thing—someone actively trying to kill her was another.
Finally he came upon the sign for the trailhead and boat launch at the bottom of the falls. He parked at a gravel parking spot near the river, just down from where it spilled over Graveyard Falls. On weekends and during tourist season, the place would be crowded. People liked to hike along the narrow path between boulders, to get closer to the waterfall and watch the majesty of the beast, as well as feel the spray hitting their faces and getting them wet.
Tori reached for the door. He touched her arm and she held back from opening the door. “What is it?”
“Before we get out, there’s more I want to say.” Before finding Tori’s kayak with a bullet hole or two in it messed with his head. “My working theory has been that the murders are drug-related. Sarah’s boyfriend, Mason Sheffield? Turns out he had some priors. Mostly
