Page 61 of Christmas Homecoming Secrets

Jade replaced the picture and stomped into the kitchen just as her cell phone chimed. She snagged it from her pocket. “Captain?”

“Glad you answered. I’ve got some news on your little fire.”

“You mean the one that’s destroyed my home?”

“Yeah.” He ignored her sarcasm. “Looks like you were right. Arson investigators found evidence of explosive materials.”

Even though his statement wasn’t unexpected, chills still danced up her arms. “What kind?”

“The kind that turns household items into bombs.”

“I see.”

“They also found traces of rope fiber outside your door and on the railing. You said you couldn’t get out.”

“The door opens inward. When I pulled, nothing happened.”

“That’s because someone tied it shut,” he said. “Wrapped a loop with a knot around the knob, then around the stair railing, effectively trapping you inside. At least, that’s the deduction. There wasn’t a whole lot of rope left.”

“It fits,” she said. While Jade knew someone had rigged her door, hearing it stated as fact turned her stomach.

“The lab is working with the explosives, trying to get any prints off the remains, but don’t hold your breath.”

A knock on the front door startled her and sent her heart racing. “Someone’s at the door, Captain. I’d better get it.”

“You know who it is?”

Jade peered out the window. “Yes. Bryce and his dog.”

“Okay. He’s got clearance.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Watch your back, Hollis. You’re one of my best detectives, and I don’t want to lose you.”

The words settled in her heart, and gratitude filled her. “Appreciate that, sir.”

“Answer the door. I’ll be in touch if I learn anything more.”

Jade hung up and opened the door to find Bryce with his hands in his front pockets, head slightly lowered, and looking up at her through his upper lashes. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He cleared his throat. “Could I come in?”

She stepped back and led them into the den, where Sasha claimed her spot in front of the fireplace. Bryce chose the sofa. “I owe you an apology,” he said.

“An apology?”

“I wasn’t completely honest about everything.”

Jade stilled. “Okay.”

“I actually do have PTSD. And, as you’ve probably already figured out, Sasha’s a service dog.” He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “The truth is, I’ve been in counseling for several years, learning to cope. One of the things I’ve discovered is that it doesn’t help to deny its existence—as much as I might like to.”

Jade blinked, slightly stunned at the admission and almost at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed. “I know that’s a hard thing, but I’m glad you’re getting help.”

“Losing part of my leg devastated me. It meant losing all of my hopes and dreams and facing a whole new reality. A new way of living, walking. Everything. I was very angry and bitter for a long time.”