HAZARDOUS HOMECOMING
Back in her hometown, Paige Becker has one goal: to prove her brother didnât murder his wife. But as she begins her hunt for the real killer, a truck runs her off the road, and Paige is convinced it was no accident. Now her old flame, Seth Garrisonâthe detective who put her brother in jailâis in charge of the investigation into the wreck. Seth doesnât believe Paige was intentionally targetedâ¦until someone begins stalking her, and a woman who might have information is murdered. In order to unmask the murderer, they must dig into a shadowy and painful pastâa past that once drove them apart. But is the killer out for revenge against Paigeâs brother, or did Seth put the wrong man behind bars?
Instinct told him something was off. And heâd learned a long time ago not to ignore his gut, because those instincts were usually right.
They came to the end of the walkway, and as they stepped off the curb and onto the asphalt, the peal of three rapid gunshots ripped through the air, echoing like crackling thunder.
âNo!â Paige screamed. Her shoulder bag hit the ground as she dropped for cover, crouching beside it, throwing her arms over her head.
Seth spun toward her, Glock raised. âCome on, letâs get out of here.â He grabbed Paigeâs hand, pulling her to run. They took off in a sprint, skirting around vehicles, his gaze swinging back and forth across the lot, trying to get a handle on where to go next.
More gunshots came from behind. Bullets whizzed past their heads.
âThis way,â Seth yelled and ducked right, pulling Paige with him. They rounded the corner just as another burst of gunshots lit the air like fireworks. Glass shattered, spitting jagged shards into the air in all directions.
âSeth! Weâre going to get killed!â Paigeâs panicked scream echoed above the explosive din.
Not if he could help it.
ANNSLEE URBAN grew up watching old-time romance movies, to which she attributes her passion for sweet romance, true love and happy endings. Raised in the foothills of Arizona, she survived temperature shock when she moved to western Pennsylvania, before settling in North Carolina with her husband and children. Aside from writing, Annslee enjoys cooking, traveling, playing with grandbabies and all things chocolate! You can reach Annslee at [email protected].
I can do all this through Him who gives me strength.
âPhilippians 4:13
To my beautiful sisters in Christ: Nancy Lindsey, Sandi Mashburn and Barbara Cohn. Angels are often sent as friends. Blessings to you, my friends!
And to my grandkiddos: Cameron, Kaylee, Adelyn, Isaac, Ainsley and Jayce. I love you to the moon and back.
ONE
Am I being followed?
The thought circled through Paige Beckerâs brain and sent her pulse skittering. She darted a glance in the rearview mirror, squinting against the rain-pelted windshield. The fall storm had picked up, making visibility almost impossible. But behind her, in the distance, the low white glow of headlights burned up the fog and darkness as a vehicle came careening around a bend in the road.
Suddenly Paige was frightened. A pickup had been riding her bumper down Highway 321 in Boone, North Carolina. Sheâd breathed relief when the light turned red as the driver pulled off at the exit behind her, forcing him to stop. Had the same mysterious vehicle caught up with her?
Lightning flashed, and a burst of thunder shook the Jeep. Paige jumped, and for a moment she lost control of the vehicle. The rear of the Renegade started to skid, fishtailing on the rain-slicked asphalt toward the shoulder of the road. Toward the steep bank.
Panic rioted through Paigeâs chest. She yanked the steering wheel to the left, muscles clenching, and managed to steer the Jeep away from the edge and back into her lane.
Thank You, Lord.
Chest heaving, she worked to catch her breath. Bright lights reflected in her side-view mirrors. The truck had caught up with her and was back on her bumper. An empty, nauseated feeling erupted in the depths of her stomach.
Was this a case of road rage? Or had her return to Boone incensed someone, fearful of what evidence she might dig up?
A chill needled her bones. Okay. She yanked her handbag from the seat beside her and riffled for her cell phone. It was time to call the police.
Fear. Anger. Frustration. A tangled mess of emotions churned in her gut when her search came up empty. As she tossed her bag on the seat beside her, she spied a small blinking light on the floor by the passenger door. Her cell phone.
On a sigh, she dug her nails into the wheel and glanced at the steep winding curves ahead of her. Oh, no. She darted a look between the road ahead and the rearview mirror. The truck was still there. The rain had eased up a little, allowing just enough light for her to make out a silhouette of a man inside the cab. Is this lunatic planning to run me off the road?