I check the rearview again. Empty road. Normal. Nothing’s normal.
A hundred feet later, the truck coughs — once, twice — then gives a grinding whine I’ve never heard from her in eight years. My gut drops.
“Come on…” I murmur.
The engine stutters. Then dies.
I coast to the shoulder, gravel crunching under the tires, and kill the ignition. The woods are too quiet. No birdsong. No wind. Just stillness.
Too still.
I pop the hood and slide out. A hot rush of engine heat hits my face. I lean in—
And my blood goes cold.
Wires severed. Clean. Purposeful. Like someone wanted the truck to run just long enough to get me away from the lake before killing it.
Not random. Not opportunistic.
Targeted.
My target.
I pull out my phone instantly. Lucky picks up on the first ring.
“Hey,” she says, breath light, unaware. “You okay?”
“Darling, listen to me,” I say, forcing my voice to stay level. Calm. Calm is oxygen for her. “I need you to lock every door. Now. Deadbolt. Double-check the windows. Don’t go near them.”
A beat. Rustling fabric. “Ethan, what’s going—”
“Just do it. Please.” I steady my breath. “You’re safe inside. Just stay there.”
Another pause. Smaller. Braver than she feels. “Okay. I’m locking up. I’m fine. Just… tell me when you’re close.”
Christ, she’s trying to sound steady for me. That almost splinters something in my chest.
“I will,” I say quietly. “Good girl.”
I hang up before my voice can give away the fear vibrating under my skin.
Next call: Sam.
He answers on the second ring, voice low, wind rushing behind him. “Talk to me.”
“Sheifer might already be in Cedar Lake,” I say. “My truck was tampered with. Clean severing. Someone who knows what they’re doing.”
There’s a hard silence. Then: “Impossible. He never would’ve slipped past me.”
“He tripped a bank alarm to get me into town,” I say. “Pulled me away. And he got to my truck without triggering anything.” My teeth grit. “Sam… he’s better than we thought.”
“He’s not a ghost,” Sam mutters. “No one gets that close without—”
“He got through Lucky’s home security seven years ago.” My pulse spikes. “Maybe this is how.”
Sam goes quiet. Then, low and deadly:
“Okay. Then who the fuck is this guy?”
