Page 72 of North

RJ nodded and then gestured to Selah with her head. “She was in a train wreck⁠—”

“The Amtrak?”

“Yeah. And somehow got mixed up with Alan Martin. I’m not sure how, but they ended up on my doorstep.”

Jethro frowned, his own jaw tight, then looked at Selah.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” She had her arms wrapped around herself and now held out a hand. “Selah Silver.”

“Jethro Darnell.” He shook her hand, a firm grip that also spoke safety…

If she wasn’t the villain.

“I don’t know who this Alan Martin is. That man back there—he told me his name was James Cooper and that he was a businessman. He helped me rescue a family and then get away from this crazy farmer in the mountains, and he paid for my B&B last night and…” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry—but how was I to know that he was some sort of”—she glanced at RJ—“stalker?”

“He’s not just a stalker,” RJ said and put Josh down. He ran over to his sister, who got on the floor with him. She’d grabbed a book off the shelf, and Josh settled into her lap.

RJ pitched her voice low as Jethro stared out the window, watching. “Once upon a time, Alan Martin was my husband’s…um, partner. They were in the same firm.”

Selah was starting to get the feeling that that firm wasn’t in mergers and acquisitions—at least of companies. Perhaps of countries?

“Martin disappeared for a while, and when he resurfaced, my husband thought he was involved in a bombing in Moscow.”

“A what?”

“It’s a long story, but Martin was clearly into something rogue, and he ended up being part of an assassination attempt on the president during the inauguration. He was arrested and then escaped prison and…well, that’s another story. But let’s just say he’s been in league with the Russian Bratva and involved in numerous attempts to draw the US into war.”

“With Russia?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Money? Power? Turmoil? I don’t know why. But he has a special sort of anger toward York, and we’re not sure why. Tried to kill him years ago…” She looked out the window. “And apparently, he’s still trying.”

Selah stepped up behind RJ. Black smoke now plumed into the sky, evidence of the fire breaking through the windows, maybe even the roof.

RJ put her hand on the window, sighed, shuddered. “York bought this house for us even before he asked me to marry him.”

“I’m so sorry.” Selah stepped back, sat on a chair. “I⁠—”

“There’s someone in the woods,” said Jethro, and he stepped up to RJ.

RJ lifted her Glock, but Jethro put his hand on her shoulder. “Go to the back of the house. Take the kids.”

She turned and looked at Selah, those same words in her expression. Selah got up, took Joshua from Hana. Glanced back at RJ. She wore a thin-lipped expression.

“I’ll take care of them.” Then Selah put her arm around Hana and directed her down the hallway.

They came to a study filled with music equipment—a guitar on a stand, a keyboard, speakers, a mic, and a mixing board.

A music poster hung on the wall, advertising an event at a local bar and grill, appropriately named Jethro’s. The words With Special Guest Raven were written across the picture of a beautiful dark-haired woman. She possessed Jethro’s features, clearly a relative.

Selah closed the door behind them. The room came with an outside entrance, so perhaps a studio of sorts. She measured the distance from the house to the forest and then shook her head at the thought that she was actually trying to figure out exit routes.

As if she were some sort of special forces operator.

Shouting lifted from beyond the room. A “Get down!” and a “Don’t move!”