forward a step. Hot tears rushed to Maisy’s eyes as she steadied herself to fight. Then the figure turned and sprinted away through the base.
Relief washed over Maisy’s body and tension fled her limbs so suddenly she felt her knees go weak, nearly pitching her to the ground. Who was that? Had that knife been for protection or violence? She propelled her wobbly legs toward the cops, as her heart beat so hard in her slender frame. In the three and a half months since the Red Rose Killer had broken out of prison, it was like a deep fog of uncertainty and fear had descended over the base. Neighbors suspected neighbors. Colleagues viewed each other with suspicion. Stamping out gossip among her students was a daily task, and when parents arrived at the school, they hugged their children closer and were slower to let them go. Two of her friends, Felicity and Zoe, had quickly married the men of their dreams, rather than waiting a moment longer to start their happily-ever-afters. It was like everyone was a little more aware of how precious life could be.
Something crunched under her feet. She bent down. Her fingers reached for the glittering shapes, cupping them into her palms. They were seashells. No. Wait. They were dried pasta. Bright pink with gold paint splotches and coated in purple glitter, they were the same kind of pasta she used for craft time at Sunny Seeds, and unless she was very wrong, she’d helped one of her own students paint these very shells herself before painstakingly placing them on a cardboard picture frame—Allie McLear.
What would remnants of little Allie’s treasured frame be doing out here on the ground? Confusion gripped her heart again as the bright-eyed toddler’s face swam unbidden into her mind, along with that of her handsome, broad-shouldered father, Chase McLear. The students had made the frames and taken them home as a Valentine’s Day present for their parents and caregivers. She could still remember the sweet and chagrined look on Chase’s face the next day as he’d stood with his lanky form half leaning against the door frame to the entrance of Sunny Seeds and explained that Allie would like a picture of herself and Maisy to put in it, if she’d be okay with him taking one. She hadn’t been about to say no.
She’d always tried her best not to have favorites, but she had to admit that Allie had burrowed a meaningful place in Maisy’s heart. There was something special about the tiny blonde, motherless bundle of sunshine with vulnerable eyes and an eager smile. And if she was honest, she suspected Allie’s father was something special too.
While he’d told her that he was one of thousands of airmen who’d been trained by her father, she hadn’t actually met Chase before he’d been deployed to Afghanistan many years ago or spoken to him until he moved back to Texas and enrolled his daughter in Sunny Seeds. She’d vowed long ago that she’d never fall for a man in uniform. It was a promise she’d stuck to for all twenty-five years of her life. But she couldn’t deny that over the past few months she’d developed a bit of a crush on Allie’s father. Probably ever since the day the single father had first dropped Allie off in her care.
Her steps quickened as she recognized the house number and street from the Sunny Seeds’s attendance records. Police encircled Chase and Allie’s house. Were they in some kind of trouble? Had they been targeted by the Red Rose Killer? Please, no!
She started running toward the house. A small crowd of people had formed on the sidewalk. She pushed past them, her heart stuttering a beat as she caught sight of the tall and strong form of her friend Captain Justin Blackwood standing among the cops. What was the head of the Red Rose Killer investigation doing at Allie and Chase’s house? She ran for him. She had to tell him about the knife-wielding figure.
A hand in the crowd caught her arm. She turned back. It was the tall, blonde form of Yvette Crenville, the base nutritionist and someone else who she knew had been targeted and threatened by Boyd Sullivan thanks to a failed past romance.
“We’ve got to stay back,” Yvette said. She let go of Maisy’s arm. “They’re making an arrest. It might be Boyd’s accomplice.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Maisy said. She prayed Chase and Allie were all right. “I just saw a prowler in the bushes. I have to report it while there might still be a chance to catch them.”
“Could it be Boyd?” Yvette’s beautiful eyes went wide. “Someone reported that he was seen going in and out of that house.”
Chase and Allie’s house? “No, that’s not possible. One of my students lives there. Her father seems like a really great guy. There’s no way...”
Her voice trailed off, unable to find the words to finish the sentence. After all, Yvette had never expected that the man she’d once loved would turn out to be a serial killer. She ran toward Justin, even as she felt her gaze pull toward the house. Two cops flanked a tall and broad-shouldered man in soft gray track pants and a simple white T-shirt who knelt by the back door of the bungalow. His head was bowed and his hands were linked on top of his head.
Chase looked up, and his eyes widened as his gaze met hers through the chaos, and the previous stutter she’d felt in her chest turned into a jolt so painful it seemed to shock her heart’s ability to even beat.
No, no it couldn’t be. Her secret crush, and the single father of her favorite student, was being arrested for harboring her father’s killer.
Maisy watched, her head swimming in confusion and disbelief, as Chase stayed kneeling between the uniformed cops. Prayer filled her aching chest.
Lord, what’s happening? Did Chase really have something to do with Dad’s murder?
“Justin!”
The tall cop turned toward her, his lips set in a grim line. “Morning, Maisy. I’ve got to ask you to step back.”
Justin Blackwood was a tough and reliable captain, but even then, she’d never seen his face so serious.
“I just saw a prowler in the bushes with a knife!” she said, forcing herself to leave the question of Chase’s arrest for now. If there was even a possibility it was Boyd Sullivan, that was all that mattered for now. She pointed. “Over there. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. But they were thin. I don’t think it was Boyd Sullivan, but he’s been living in the woods for months, so who knows how much weight he’s lost. They had a hoodie and a bandanna over their face. They pulled a knife, but when I yelled they ran away. I think they had part of a picture frame Allie and I made.”
She held out her hand to show him the pieces she’d picked up. Justin’s face paled. In an instant he’d summoned two K-9 officers to his side and quickly took a detailed description of the suspect’s appearance from Maisy and the direction he’d gone. The cops and their canine partners took off after the suspect. Justin turned to Maisy.
“Are you okay?” Concern reverberated through his voice.
She nodded as something about the sincerity of her friend’s caring question made her voice catch. The single father of a teenaged girl, Justin had been someone Maisy had considered a friend for years. If she was honest, she suspected her father had been disappointed that no romantic spark had ever bloomed between her and the military police captain. She’d definitely noticed how the cut of Justin’s jaw and the intensity of his gaze had a certain attractiveness, which had turned more than one female head on base. But the fact that his obvious good looks had never had any impact on her personally had been one of the reasons she figured she was immune to the charms of any man in uniform—a thought that had promptly evaporated the moment Chase McLear had brought little Allie into
