Both went still. A jolt of anxiety surged through Caitlin as she reached into her purse, drawing her Glock, knuckles whiteon the grip. Together they searched the cottage—Caitlin in front, Izzy close behind. Room by room—empty.
As Caitlin reached for the front door, a figure appeared.
They screamed. Caitlin yanked the gun up.
“Jesus!” Burke muttered, hand flying to his revolver. “Put that down before you shoot me!”
Relief and mortification crashed over her. She lowered the weapon. “Burke—I... I didn’t know?—”
He glanced from her pale face to the open door. “I was driving by, making sure you two got home safe. Saw the door open, came to check. Now—why do you have a gun in your hand?”
Caitlin stammered, but Izzy jumped in. “Sheriff, we left through the kitchen door earlier. We locked this one. When we got back, it was open. It scared us. So Caitlin grabbed her gun, and we searched the house. Someone was here.”
Burke dialed his phone. “Scout, get over here,” he said, voice low and firm.
Minutes later, Scout arrived, flashlight in hand. Burke gestured toward him.
“Izzy, this is Scout Wilson.”
Izzy’s eyes flicked over him, the corner of her mouth twitching. “So you’re the famous Deputy Wilson.”
Scout gave a polite nod. “Ma’am.”
Then he turned back to Burke, all business as they headed toward the yard.
Burke crouched near the porch. “Footprints,” he muttered. “Size eleven, headed toward the trees.”
Back inside, his voice was calm but firm. “Somebody was here. We’ve had a few break-ins lately—probably scared them off, likely teens. Check if anything’s missing.”
They looked around—nothing.
“Good,” Burke said, though his shoulders stayed tense. “Scout’s on duty all night, so is Parker. We’ll patrol the neighborhood. Lock your doors.”
He checked the windows, frowning at the screws fixed into the frames—a precaution most people never thought of.Why was she so scared? The screws, the gun...
Caitlin still shook, pale and unsteady. Burke drew her into his arms without hesitation. She stiffened, then melted, cheek pressed to his chest.
“You’re all right,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. Nothing’s going to happen on my watch.”
For a fleeting second, she wanted to believe him.
He tipped his hat when he left. “Lock up behind me. We’ll keep checking tonight. Whoever it was is gone—and after seeing blue lights, they won’t be back.”
The cottage fell silent again. Izzy bolted the door. Caitlin leaned against the wall, heart still pounding, the warmth of Burke’s embrace lingering.
Evan
Evan crouched in the dark, the glow of his cigarette briefly lighting his face before he ground it out. Through the listening device, every sound inside reached him—Caitlin’s trembling voice, Burke’s low murmur as he pulled her close.
It thrilled him. Fear made them weak.
He stared at the cottage—the blue paint, the neat shutters, the pretty porch. They thought it was safe. He knew better. It was a cage, and he had the keys.
Izzy’s laughter drifted faintly through the mic, Caitlin’s softer voice frayed with guilt. Evan’s grin returned, teeth flashing in the shadows.
They didn’t suspect a thing.
The mountain air was cold, but he hardly noticed. The women thought they’d survived a scare.
