But someone—or something—was out there.
Caleb’s pulse hammered in his ears as he reached for his weapon, his fingers closing around the grip.
He knew he shouldn’t have brought Millie out here.
Now she was in danger. This had been a terrible idea.
He scanned the woods. “Who’s there?”
His pulse pounded in his ears as he waited.
Another stick broke.
His grip on the gun tightened.
Millie clung to his arm.
He could hardly breathe as he anticipated the worst.
A moment later, a shape emerged from the shadows.
A deer.
Caleb exhaled slowly, his hand still on his gun.
It was just a deer.
The creature stepped delicately through the leaves, pausing to sniff the air before bounding into the trees.
Caleb wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. At how fast his adrenaline had spiked. At how close he’d come to using his weapon on a white-tailed buck.
But he couldn’t.
Because the truth was, he and Millie weren’t safe out here.
Not with a killer still wandering free. Not with a woman living under his roof who’d lied about her identity.
He turned back to Millie and saw that her skin was still pale. His heart pounded with compassion and regret.
He shouldn’t have let her come out here.
“We need to get back,” he told her.
“Okay.”
He put the box into his backpack, took her arm, and started back toward the house. As they walked, he constantly scanned the woods around them.
Hamilton and Biscuit fell into step beside them, the dogs alert and watchful.
But Caleb’s mind was already three steps ahead.
Call the sheriff. Get Millie inside. Find Valentina.
Then he planned on getting some answers.
Millie’s heart was still racing as she and Caleb hurried back toward the house.
Her mind kept replaying the image on the license. Valentina’s face. A different name.
