End Game

“I’m in the process of…changing gears.” The sardonic lift of his eyebrow telegraphed his disdain. “I’ll let you know.” Whistling to his dog, he turned on his heel.

Megan watched him go, taking in his almost military stride and the rigid set of his shoulders.

She’d come here hoping to find a solid lead that would finally tie the assaults and murders to a single suspect. Beyond just that folder of receipts, a gut-deep feeling told her that he wasn’t the one she was looking for.

But there was something else about him that wasn’t quite right—and she was definitely going to find out what Scott Anders was hiding.

lives in the country with her husband and a menagerie of pets, many of whom find their way into her books. If not at her part-time day job as a registered dietitian, writing at home in her jammies, or spending time with family, you’ll probably find her out in the barn with the horses or with her nose in a book.

This is her twenty-third novel, and is the third book in the Big Sky Secrets series. Her first manuscript won a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award, and her second manuscript was a Golden Heart Award finalist. Since then, she has been an RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award nominee in 2005, and won the magazine’s award for Best Superromance of 2006.

She loves to hear from readers! Her snail-mail address is P.O. Box 2550, Cedar Rapids, Iowa 52406-2550. You can also find her at www.roxannerustand.com, www.shoutlife.com/roxannerustand.com, or at her blog, where readers and writers talk about their pets, http://roxannerustand.blogspot.com/.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Send forth your light and your truth, let them guide me; let me bring peace to your holy mountain, to the place where you dwell.

—Psalms 43:3

Don’t worry about anything. Instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Jesus Christ.

—Philippians 4:6–7

With many thanks to Kylie Brant and Cindy Gerard for the fun, the friendship and our plotting weekends—and always, to Dani and Ben with love!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

EPILOGUE

LETTER TO READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

“I won’t stop until I find this guy, Anna.” Seeing the raw pain in her friend’s eyes, Megan Peters took a deep breath and forced back the memories threatening to swamp her. “I promise.”

“How?” Anna lashed out, pulling her hands away from Megan’s. “I didn’t see his face. I don’t know who it was, and neither did the other woman who got away. And the two dead girls won’t be talking.”

The bitterness in Anna’s voice stung Megan as if she’d been slapped. “No. But the DNA—”

“Hasn’t matched anyone in the system so far, and probably never will, right? This guy will never be caught.”

“But it does connect the crimes, so when we get him, we’ll be able to send him away for good. There’ll be a time when someone picks up on a clue. Someone else who escapes.”

They both fell silent, Megan’s words a chilling re minder of the two women who had been raped and murdered within the past six months. If a group of noisy hikers hadn’t come by and scared off her attacker, Anna might have been number three.

“We’re doing our best,” Megan added quietly. “And we will get him.”

It wasn’t an idle promise, and Megan could only hope Anna believed it. The younger woman had been a county 911 dispatcher for five years before resigning last winter, and she’d seen Megan in action. She also knew why this case mattered to Megan so much.

Anna turned away to brace her hands on the window-sill of the tiny Marshall County sheriff’s office. “But until he’s caught, he’ll continue to prey on women, and that could go on for the next decade.” Her voice rose. “I know how few deputies work this county, remember? Not enough. And it’s huge. He could hide up in some remote cabin in the mountains and never be found.”

Megan waited a few moments for her to calm down. “Or he could be someone we see every day in town, and he could start making mistakes. If there’s ever anything you can remember, call me, day or night. His shoes. Something in his voice. A gesture—”

Anna spun around, her face pale, a hand at the jagged, healing wound at the base of her neck. The bandages and sutures were gone now, leaving gnarled, dark pink flesh that would become a fainter scar in time. But Megan knew the real wounds—the emotional trauma and deep fear—were far worse, and might never fully heal.

“I came in once more because you asked me to, but please don’t ask me again. It was dark. He didn’t speak. Living through it all again and again is more than I can bear.”