1
Bryn Sinclair unlocked the back door to her house and stepped across the threshold.Exhaustion from the long day of dealing with law enforcement over her missing boss weighed heavily on her shoulders.She frowned when she caught a whiff of a strange scent.
Someone was inside her house!
She froze, straining to listen.With her heart thudding painfully against her sternum, she took a silent step back.The door had been locked, so she wasn’t sure how the intruder had gotten in.Holding her breath, she took another step back, hoping and praying whoever was inside didn’t know she’d come home.
A crack of gunfire split the night air.
Bryn whirled and ran, ducking her head to make herself a smaller target.Her purse thudded against her side.She gathered it close and continued to run.More gunfire rang out, but she didn’t slow her pace.Fearing she’d be shot at any second, she ran with all the strength she could muster, heading toward the wooded area behind her house.Her car was in the detached garage, and she didn’t think there was time to use her vehicle to escape.Instead, she hoped the gunman wouldn’t be familiar with the area the way she was.
After everything that had happened earlier that day, she numbly realized she should have anticipated this.
But she hadn’t.And now that lapse in judgment might get her killed.
With a frantic burst of speed, she reached the wooded section of Chicory Park.Due to the April time change, it was still too light for her peace of mind.Dusk had fallen, but she was afraid the gunmen would be able to see her red quilted jacket through the trees.
Who was shooting at her?This had to be related to Damien Rochester’s disappearance.Her life was normally boring.Routine.As exciting as sliced bread.
Until today when the police had come looking for her absent boss.
Bryn made her way deeper into the park preserve, avoiding the marshlands.She didn’t hear anything that indicated the gunman had followed her.She stopped beside a tree, leaning weakly against the trunk as she caught her breath.She lived in a small residential area north of Madison, Wisconsin.She’d moved here from St.Louis when she’d gotten the job offer to work for Damien Rochester as his personal assistant.
Now she wished she’d have stayed in Missouri.
What was left of the evening light faded away, cloaking her in darkness.Grateful for the coverage, she pushed away from the tree and made her way through to the opposite side of the park.Bryn stepped carefully, feeling the spongy marshland give beneath her feet, her low-heeled flats getting damp from the water.She turned to seek higher ground.The last thing she wanted was to be stuck out there.She knew the Yahara River snaked through the park toward Lake Mendota.Madison was not only the Wisconsin state capital, but it was flanked by two large lakes, making it a great place to live and work.
If your boss wasn’t Damien Rochester, she thought darkly.Where was he anyway?She couldn’t imagine he was the one who’d been in her house, shooting at her.It wasn’t as if he’d have a reason to silence her.
Her left foot sank into the muck.With a grimace, she yanked free and changed her course.Again.After what seemed like an eon, she caught a glimpse of light.Winding through the trees, she used the light as a beacon.When she broke free of the woods, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the sign was for O’Brien’s Pub.
“Thank you, Lord,” she whispered, quickening her pace to reach the building.Bryn needed help, fast.And not just from her Divine Savior.
Her friends were all coworkers.Calling Gwen, Sam, Tabitha, or one of the others wasn’t an option.Not after everything that had gone down earlier today.No, there was only one person here on earth she could trust.Micah Newton, her older brother’s best friend.
Tommy was gone, killed during the army troops’ withdrawal from Afghanistan.She hadn’t seen Micah since Tommy’s funeral five years ago.
Yet she knew that if she called, Micah would answer.Out of a sense of duty toward her brother, if for no other reason.
Bryn swiftly walked into the pub, taking a moment to look around before heading toward an empty table in the corner.By some miracle, she hadn’t lost her purse, so she quickly rummaged inside for her phone.Ignoring her trembling fingers, she scrolled through her contact list until she found Micah.A server approached with a menu.
“Thanks.”Bryn took the menu.“I’ll need a little time before I order.”Bryn wasn’t sure staying in the pub was smart.If the gunman was still out there looking for her, this place might be too obvious.What if he walked in through the front door?The thought made her shiver.
“Would you like anything to drink?”the server asked.
“Not yet.”Bryn pressed Micah’s name on the screen and held the phone to her ear.The pub was loud, so she stuck her finger in her other ear to hear better.Micah, bless him, answered on the first ring.
“Bryn?Are you okay?”Micah’s voice held concern, no doubt because she hadn’t called him despite his offer to get together after Tommy’s funeral.
“Not really.I—something’s going on.My boss disappeared, and the police questioned me at length.Then there was someone waiting for me at my house when I got home.He fired shots at me, so I ran.”
“Fired shots?”Micah’s voice rose in alarm.“Where are you now?”
“At O’Brien’s Pub north of Madison.”She swallowed hard.“Micah?I’m scared.The pub isn’t far from my place.What if the gunman comes after me?”
“Call the police.”Micah’s voice was firm.“Let them know what happened.I’ll make my way to Madison, but I’m in Chicago.It’s going to take a while.”
Her heart sank.Chicago was a good two-hour drive or more from where she was.Yet she belatedly realized she should have thought of calling the police.That’s what a normal person would do.
