She hadn’t been able to stop. She’d cried and cried—
especially when her dad had stopped talking to her.
“The other driver was drunk. He was knocked unconscious when the cars hit and he... It took him a while to wake up.” And to make his way to her car. To find the screaming child trapped in the back.
Jasper’s arms were around her. He hauled her close. She could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her. “I’m sorry.”
So was she.
“I didn’t know you were— Cale never mentioned you were in the car.”
Because Cale liked to pretend that she hadn’t been. Or that she didn’t remember. That she’d never seen blood and death. That she hadn’t known fear.
That all the years in foster care hadn’t existed for either of them.
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But you couldn’t just wipe away the past.
She forced herself to step back from Jasper even though the warmth of his arms was so tempting. “So I’ve seen death before, but...but I wasn’t ready for what I saw tonight.” Who could be? She saw again the horror in that man’s eyes. The pain. Then...nothing. “The fact that I don’t break down, it doesn’t mean I don’t care.”
“It just means you’re strong,” he said.
Strong? Not many people had called her that before. Cale was the strong one. She was the smart one. At least, those were the tags they’d been given in foster care. But she’d told him enough about herself for now, and he wasn’t trying to break through the ice that shielded her any longer. She swallowed and tried to focus less on death. I don’t want to keep seeing that man’s eyes go blank. “That special agent...Gunner...” The man who’d stayed behind at the scene while Jasper took her home. “How do you two know each other?” She’d been distracted before, hadn’t even really processed that an FBI agent had appeared at her kidnapping scene. Talk about some luck. She’d known that Jasper had connections she could use; she just hadn’t expected to use those connections instantly.
“I do some freelance work for the government.” His answer came easily. His gaze held hers. “Gunner and I have worked together on missions in the past.”
The words held the ring of truth, but then, why would she even think that he’d lie to her? So far, he’d done nothing but save her. “He’ll tell you what he finds out about those men?”
Jasper nodded.
“Why do you think they were shot?” She was exhausted. Her body hurt. But she couldn’t stop talking. The questions she was asking him...part of the reason why she was bringing them up was that she wanted to steer him away from her parents. Her past. That wound was still raw.
“They’re dead because someone wanted to make sure they didn’t talk.”
She thought so, too. “About Cale?”
He didn’t answer. Maybe that was answer enough. Bracing herself, she asked, “Do you think my brother is dead?” Had he been shot like those two men, gunned down with no warning? No time to fight or plead or live?
He took a step away from her. “I absolutely think Cale is alive.”
Finally, she could pull in a deep breath.
“I swear to you, I will find him.”
She believed him. Veronica gave him a brief smile, then turned away. She didn’t want him to see the tears in her eyes. Tears brought on by the memory of her parents, by the violent death she’d witnessed so recently and by the hope that had her heart almost breaking.
* * *
GUNNER WATCHED AS the bodies were loaded into the back of the M.E.’s van. The M.E. had driven over from the county office as quickly as he could. Dr. Lawrence Tome had trembled when he touched the bodies with his gloved hands.
Gravel crunched behind him, but Gunner didn’t turn at the sound. He stared as the van pulled away, his eyes narrowed. The firefighters were still on-scene—volunteers—lingering as they surveyed the area. An arson investigator would be called in, but at the slow rate that things seemed to run in Whiskey Ridge, Gunner wasn’t expecting any instant answers.
“You could have been killed.” The low, angry and distinctly feminine voice was pitched to only reach his ears.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Sydney Sloan cross her arms over her chest, one of her angrier stances. Her short blond hair blew lightly in the breeze, tousling around her face. Her light green gaze wasn’t on him. She was watching the firefighters. Or pretending to watch them.
He knew the full focus of her attention was on him. “The fire started and I had to—”