“What did they use?” Colt asked.
Naomi reached up and gently brushed her hair aside. “A stun gun, I think. My neck still burns.” Two red marks were visible just below her ear, slightly swollen.
Brenna narrowed her eyes. “And you’re sure you never saw who it was?”
“I swear. They didn’t say anything, just zapped me and tied me up. I came to when I was already hanging.”
“Show us the message,” Colt said, his voice tight.
Naomi fumbled with her phone, her fingers trembling as she opened her messages. She handed the phone to Brenna. The screen displayed a short text.
If you want the truth about Timberline, come to Crossfire Creek Bridge. No cops. Come alone.
Brenna’s grip tightened around the phone. The wording was almost identical to the one Gary had received. Someone was baiting them. Controlling the board and watching every move.
She passed the phone back to Naomi and exchanged a look with Colt. They were being played.
But for what end? And where the hell was Wallace Kemp?
Brenna stood and wiped her hands on her jeans, her eyes scanning the thick woods around the bridge.
“Naomi, where did you park?”
Naomi blinked, still shaken. She looked toward the other end of the bridge, then frowned. “Up that way,” she said, pointing beyond the trees. “Just off the road. I left it there when I came down here.”
Colt and Harlan both turned to look. Brenna followed their gaze. There was no sign of a car.
Naomi’s face paled. “It was right there. A dark blue sedan. I swear.”
“Looks like someone moved it,” Harlan muttered.
Brenna clenched her fists. These twisted games were getting worse. The killer was pulling strings, toying with them all. She turned in a slow circle, her gaze cutting through the tree cover, searching for Wallace or any hint of a trap.
Nothing.
Her stomach knotted.
Then, a sudden burst of light and heat rocked the air. And an explosion shattered the quiet.
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Chapter Seven
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The blast hit Colt like a punch to the chest.
He dropped to one knee, shielding Brenna and Naomi with his body as rocks and debris rained down around them. The explosion had come from the side of the bridge, about twenty feet away, and though it wasn’t a massive detonation, it was enough to shake the ground and send up a thick spray of dust and splintered rock.
Naomi screamed. Brenna swore.
Colt’s ears rang as he lifted his head and scanned for the source. Smoke curled up from the brush near the bridge’s edge. But he saw no signs of who’d set off the blast. No signs of Wallace either.
Behind them, Harlan moved, and he had his weapon drawn. Gary was right behind him, his face pale and tight with panic.
“Everyone okay?” Harlan called, eyes on Colt.
“Yeah,” Colt said. “For now.”
