“Shit, Heath. You need to keep a distance here.” Concern wove through Ryker’s tone.
“I’m trying. Loretta is strong and smart—and he’ll attempt to strip that away from her.” That’s what bullies did. Who knew who his mother could’ve been if just one loser boyfriend hadn’t kept supplying her with drugs? He couldn’t fail again. “The killer might not be prepared for a trained FBI agent. He might have to kill quickly with Loretta. The bastard.”
“I know,” Ryker murmured. “But you have to keep cold and sane. Any woman in trouble pushes your buttons. You need to be smart and distant for this fuckin’ case.”
“Got it.” His brother had always tried to protect his psyche, and Heath knew to listen to him. “I’ll stay clear thinking. I promise.”
“Good. Wait for Denver before going in.” Ryker clicked off.
Heath tossed the phone onto the seat and glared up at the heavily overcast sky. He hadn’t liked leaving Anya by herself, but she’d be safer with the FBI for now. He dialed his brother again.
“Yeah?” Ryker asked.
“Do a search on Anya Best, Loretta’s sister. I want to know everything about her,” Heath said.
Silence ticked over the line for a moment. “The bruised one?”
Heath closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them to watch the road. “Just do it. I need the info for this case.” He clicked off, knowing he hadn’t fooled his brother a bit. The last thing he needed right now was another lecture on his penchant for trying to save lost souls.
Anya wasn’t lost. Hell, the woman had even held a gun on him. He grinned.
Soon sleet mixed with snow and made him slow down for the two-hour drive. He had the rural roads to himself and quickly climbed through a series of forested ravines.
Scrub brush, rocks, pine trees, and snow surrounded him. A chill slithered down his back. The turnoff came into view, and he followed a barely there trail, parking about a half mile from where the barn had been two years ago. He took several precious moments to wipe down the truck and any evidence either he or Anya had been inside, just in case he had to leave it behind.
His body thrumming, he jumped from the truck, and cold assailed him. He zipped his coat, tugged the collar around his neck, and turned to dodge through snowy pine trees. Within minutes, the barn came into view.
Heath reached for his phone and dialed Ryker. “I’ve found it.”
“Wait for backup. Denver will be there in fifteen minutes,” Ryker ordered.
Even with the storm, the air was too quiet. Tension hung over the entire area. Heath had to go in. “Tell him to hurry. I’m finding her now.” He shoved the phone back into his pocket before Ryker could argue.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and zeroed in with his odd senses.
One heartbeat, barely, could be heard from the crumbling barn.
He launched into a run for the building, reaching it quickly and pressing his back to the chilled wood of the barn, trying to see through the swirling snow. Visibility was nil, so he closed his eyes and tuned in. Nothing. He centered himself and tried again, barely making out a slow heartbeat. Maybe.
Drawing his gun free, he inched toward the door, keeping his steps light on the icy snow. His gloves were thin enough so he could easily control the weapon.
The wind blew an angry aria through the pine trees, scattering even more snow. Cold slashed into him, and he ducked his chin into his coat.
If Loretta was inside, she’d be freezing.
He nudged open the door and listened. The storm increased in force along with the wind, banishing all other sounds. Damn it. His body bunched to move, but his mind and training took over. Slowly, he finished opening the door and slipped inside a narrow tack room. Threadbare leather halters hung from rusted nails, and a ripped saddle had been shoved against the widely spaced wooden slats at the far end.
Dirty hay covered the concrete floor and had been kicked into clumps. Had there been a struggle?
The smell of blood hit him hard enough to catch his breath. Metallic and thick. His body short-circuited, and his mind went blank. Panic threw him into action.
He shoved through the room and charged into a sprawling barn area. A woman lay on the ground, her head turned away, blood pooling around her. He moved toward her, and a slight whisper of movement came from behind him. He turned, and something hard struck his head, shooting sparks in front of his eyes.
His brain slammed against his skull, and he went down. Darkness claimed him a second later.
CHAPTER
4
