Filling his lungs with cool air, Santiago welcomed the fog creeping through the trees and down the mountain. Soon the town would be blanketed in vapor that moved like specters reclaiming a world lost to them during the warm late summer days, but the seasons were shifting. He was ready for the season of calm, of resting earth. He waited with anticipation for autumn to snuff out the flame of summer, preparing a way for long winter nights.The change is good, Santi thought as he headedto his cruiser. He was tired of summer stoking the wildness in people, tired of the chaos that came with a town in its death throes. Most of all, he was tired of flared tempers causing unrest. At the request of his grandfather, Santi had returned to Shrouded Lake. He’d sought peace, but this job brought everything but that. The image of the hellion filled his mind. He snarled in annoyance.
Starting the cruiser’s engine, he pulled away from the curb and slowly drove through town hoping to de-escalate any problems before they got started.
Santi swung by Dusty’s first. It was one of two bars within the town’s city limits. The third bar, Wild Ridge Bar, was on the very edge of town and would be his last stop before heading home to write up his reports and eat dinner.
At Tonka’s Gas and Snacks, Andy Archer, the mayor’s son, gassed up his silver pickup. Little asshole was with four of his buddies—Dalton, Clyde, Tovin, and Tommy—stacking cases of beer in the bed of the truck. It wasn’t the weekend, but they wouldn’t be the only folks partying tonight. Lack of opportunities, or too many for some, went hand in hand with the lack of motivation and direction he saw in Shrouded Lake. He’d been hired to help the mayor change that, yet despite the mayor’s assurances, positive change wasn’t taking hold.
Placing his phone on speaker, he dialed Roan. She was pulling the swing shift and wouldn’t be off for a few more hours.
“Yeah, League,” she answered.
After seven months as his deputy, she still defaulted to his lead role on their black ops team. They’d both retired from the navy three years ago.
“I want you to take point in securing the evidence we have against Victoria Archer in the vault, have Cutter witness it and take the key home when you’re off.”
“It’s about damn time,” she said, and he gritted his teeth because she was sounding too much like a certain pain in his ass. “I know you’ve been biding your time, but the woman you detained, Ms. Green, was right. Lady Archer needs consequences for her behavior.”
“And consequences she’ll finally have,” he said. “Watch your back out there.”
Hanging up, he passed through the parking lot at Dusty’s Bar. It was already filled with cars, but so far there weren’t any cars from known troublemakers. Not yet.
He stopped at Lou’s next. Smelling Lou’s BBQ at the station pretty much guaranteed what he’d be eating for dinner. After picking up his meal, he drove for a good twenty minutes before parking across the street from his aunt Carolina’s two-story Victorian turned bed and breakfast.
The hellion’s SUV was nowhere to be seen, which likely meant Lina let her park it in the detached garage in the back. Made sense given the vehicle was packed to the gills.
“Wonder where you’re heading, little shrew,” he muttered, looking at the house. “And why the hell are you heading there alone?”
As if hearing him speak, the lace curtains on a second story window pulled apart and she stood there gazing up at the night sky. “Probably run out of some other town by folks with pitchforks,” he muttered, answering his own question. She was a witch of a woman if he ever saw one.
She swiped angrily at her eyes, alerting him that she was crying.
He sat up and frowned.
Why the hell was she crying? Because of him? Maybe that apology couldn’t wait for morning. Maybe he needed to?—
She looked down as he reached for the door handle and squinted when she saw him parked on the street. Her facetransformed into the most hate-filled expression he’d ever seen. Even in war.
Raising both her hands, she flipped her middle fingers up like little, brown-skinned jack-in-the-boxes. She mouthed the words that went along with the gesture then snapped the curtains shut.
She must’ve realized he could still see her as the delicate lace wasn’t much of a barrier. Reopening them, she reached up with one hand and pulled the blackout shade down slowly. She watched him intently as her middle finger preceded the lowering blind. It was the last part of her he saw before the blind completely closed.
He growled and started his cruiser.
He needed Lauren Green gonebeforethe sun touched the sky. She was a problem. A manipulative woman—because he sure as shit clocked the way she’d finessed his staff into treating her like some harmless creature that needed protecting—who had the potential of going off like a powder keg. What the fuck had possessed her to try and attack at him? Everything about her screamed unstable. He’d be damned if he allowed her to blow up what the little bit of order he’d brought back to Shrouded Lake.
He took a deep breath and pulled away from the curb.
He wouldn’t let a woman with a thick ass and a violent nature linger here. If she stayed beyond checkout, he’d find a gentle way to encourage her to leave. And if she chose to ignore his encouragement, he’d find a not so gentle way. Then, God help them both.
CHAPTER 3
Lauren joltedawake and slapped a hand over her mouth, smothering her scream.
It was a nightmare, just a stupid,stupidnightmare, she thought, rolling onto her back and viciously wiping at tears that followed her from the dream. Pressing her fingertips against the damp skin of her closed eyes, she tried to stay quiet because Derrick was grumpy when woken before his five a.m. work alarm went off.
Moving slow so she didn’t wake him, she sat up and opened her eyes. Looking to her left, she saw that Derrick wasn’t beside her. He wasn’t there because this wasn’t her bed, wasn’t her home, or even her city. She was alone. Lost and alone.
Using the collar of her night shirt, she scrubbed all traces of moisture from her face; she was less successful at erasing the dream.
