âSomeone has cut the fuel line,â Ryan announced, his voice echoing in the still air.
He took out his cell phone. No signal alert. He ground his teeth in frustration.
âKiki, can you see if you have a signal?â He turned to find her staring transfixed at the car. The terrified expression on her lovely face sent concern arcing through him. He rushed to her side. âKiki?â
âWould it have blown up if Iâd started it?â she asked, her voice wobbly.
âNot likely. Whoever did this would have known there was no way weâd get in with the smell of fuel so strong.â
âBut if we hadnât smelled the fumes?â she insisted.
âStill unlikely, unlessâ¦â
âUnless?â
He shrugged. âUnless there was more tampering.â
At an early age Terri Reed discovered the wonderful world of fiction and declared she would one day write a book. Now she is fulfilling that dream and enjoys writing for Steeple Hill Books. Her second book, A Sheltering Love, was a 2006 RITA>® Award finalist and a 2005 National Readerâs Choice Award finalist. Her book Strictly Confidential, book five of the FAITH AT THE CROSSROADS continuity series, took third place for the 2007 American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award. She is an active member of both Romance Writers of America and American Christian Fiction Writers. She resides in the Pacific Northwest with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children and an array of critters. When not writing, she enjoys spending time with her family and friends, gardening and playing with her dogs.
You can write to Terri at P.O. Box 19555 Portland, OR 97280 or visit her on the Web at www.loveinspiredauthors.com or leave comments on her blog at ladiesofsuspense.blogspot.com.
An explosion shattered the peaceful serenity of the Maui countryside. Unseen projectiles ripped through palm trees, mangling fronds and scattering birds from their nests. Dirt and smoke filled the sky, momentarily blocking out the sun.
The sudden impact of something weighty rammed into Kiki Brillâs back, cutting off her scream. She plummeted forward onto the hard-packed earth, scraping her knees and elbows.
Heaviness smothered her, trapping her flat against the ground and knocking the breath from her lungs in a whoosh.
Panic shot through her brain in a fireworks display of red and white. She struggled against the bulky weight, clawing at the dirt, trying to breathe, to gain some leverage to get out from beneath whatever had landed on her.
Desperation labored in her lungs. The stench of fertilizer overwhelmed her senses.
âHey, watch it!â a male voice close to her ear shouted.
Fresh panic tore a path through her mind and pumped adrenaline in her veins. She twisted and bucked, needing to free herself of the man atop her.
A momentary easing of the manâs weight renewed her efforts. She kicked and pushed, managing to scramble away.
She jumped to her feet ready to bolt, but as her gaze landed on the man, her heart stalled and cemented her to the spot. What?
Ryan McClain, his richly made business suit covered in dirt and fertilizer, sat on his backside on the path leading to the greenhouse. Muck caked his dark hair and his turbulent, mocha-colored eyes stared at her with a mixture of panic and bewilderment.
She forced a breath in and coughed, spitting out dusty gunk that matched the floating bits in the air.
Her mind tried to make sense of what had happened. Something had exploded. Ryan McClain was sitting at her feet. Innately she knew heâd used his body to shield her, protecting her from the blast.
Fear gripped her in a tight vise. Tutu?
Her gaze jerked to the main house, just past the greenhouse where sheâd been headed. The thatched roof and clapboard-sided structure still stood, looking undamaged.
âTutu!â she yelled anyway, and ran for the front door, aware of Ryan vaulting to his feet and running behind her.
Grandmother Kaapa stood on the porch, her dark eyes wide with panic, but otherwise she seemed unhurt. Even at barely five feet tall, Lana Kaapa had a commanding presence.
Lanaâs long, dark, gray-streaked hair was gathered into a loose bun, and a hibiscus blossom rested at her ear. Her blue-and-white floral housedress reached her ankles and revealed the ballerina-style slippers Kiki had brought her from Philadelphia.
Kiki launched herself into her grandmotherâs arms.
âYouâre okay?â Kiki gasped, panting in terror.
âYes, dear.â Tutu pulled Kiki back to inspect her. Tears gathered in her eyes. âAre you hurt?â