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CHAPTER SEVEN

A ddie’s knees locked. It was all too close. Too near. Too familiar.

White—the brightest of lights right in her face—blinded her to everything but the pound of her heart and the taste of fear on her tongue.

Her life, her present, swallowed in that night years ago.

Jake. Jacob.

The roar of a car engine broke through her awareness. Addie blinked against the brightness. Car. At the last second, she dove out of the way of the oncoming car. Wind whipped her hair. She slammed on the pavement of the parking lot, jarred her hip, and cried out.

The car roared past.

She reached to her hip for a gun that would’ve been there if she wasn’t due to start her new position tomorrow. Back in her hometown. With Jake.

She blinked at the sky.

Benson, Washington. Otherwise known as the worst place ever.

“Adelyn!” His voice carried over the receding engine.

Addie glanced at the fleeing car, then watched him race to her. She held out a hand both to ward off her past, and in case he might hold it. There’s something wrong with you. Probably too much sleep lately, because nothing else in her life pointed to this kind of sudden whimsy. He was terrible for her. That was all there was to it.

Something she already knew.

“Are you okay? Hurt anywhere?”

“Just bruises.” She gritted her teeth. For a moment she’d entertained the tragically bad idea of going on a date with this guy. Her first boyfriend. First love. First…everything.

As though one impulsive hug on his part meant a summer fling—in February—would ever be a good idea.

She thumbed 9-1-1 on her phone. Resisted the tendency to report an officer down and declined an ambulance. Having her name associated with a hit-and-run wasn’t the best way to start her new job.

The dispatcher said, “A patrol car is on the way.”

“Great, thanks.” Addie hung up and told Jake, “They’re sending a black and white.” It was probably just to take her statement, except that meant they’d have her name on record. Her first case—and not because she’d reported for duty.

“Good.”

His tone jerked her from bemoaning the state of her life, and Addie surveyed his pinched expression. “Why don’t I believe that?”

“What?” He glanced once at that rust bucket he owned. Didn’t photography pay well? She didn’t want to be judgmental, considering she was currently living in her childhood bedroom, but whatever it was didn’t seem to bring that much income.

It wasn’t any of her business. Not just because she was deflecting so she didn’t have to think about her own issues.

“You have a beef with the local police?”

She didn’t even know who the chief was these days. Plenty of people had a low opinion of cops these days. She tried to do the best job she could—which had led her right to burnout. And reassignment.

“Who is the chief these days?”

His jaw flexed. “Alan Lachlan.”

“Wasn’t he the lieutenant when we…?”

“Yep.” Jake frowned. “He still thinks I had something to do with it.” Before she could ask him what on earth would cause Lachlan to think that, he shifted. “Want to get off the ground?”

Jake held her elbow so she could stand. She hobbled over and leaned her bruised pride against the hood of her car. He’d want to know why someone tried to run her over when it wouldn’t ever be his business. Not just because she had no idea.

“Was the car white?” It could’ve been the exact vehicle that followed her on the highway from Seattle. The same person making those harassing calls to her cell and work number. The figure outside her window this morning.

“It was.” He stood in front of her, irritated but not at her she didn’t think. “A white compact. Sure you don’t need an ambulance?”

Physically she was fine. The rest was up for debate, except that at least now she knew she didn’t need a psychiatrist.

In this light who knew what he saw in the shadows on her face.

“I’m not her. Not anymore.” The words were out before she could recall them.

Some part of her needed him to know she wasn’t anything like the girl he had known. She couldn’t be that girl. Not anymore.

Tomorrow she was starting at the FBI office adjacent to the police department. She had to be the profiler and field agent who’d made a name for herself. Not someone struggling or damaged. That wasn’t the way to garner respect in an exploding small town with an entrenched police department. Probably a bunch of good ole boys set in their ways who didn’t want a woman in their business.

“I’m not who I was either.” He settled on the hood beside her with a sigh. “So maybe we should get to know each other. The people we are now.”

He glanced over, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Across the lot, the cop car pulled in. Lights flashing. Addie lifted a hand to wave them over to her.

“I should go.” Jake practically jumped off the car, then hesitated like he didn’t know what to say. “I’ll come find you?”

It sounded more ominous than he probably intended, but she nodded anyway. Then watched him jog to his driver’s door and peel out in reverse.

The officer pulled the car right in front of her and climbed out, saying over the car roof, “Something I need to know about that?” He motioned toward the truck now halfway down the block.

Addie frowned. “Why would someone undertaking a hit-and-run then park and stick around to chat?”

“Oh, I assumed—” The cop had a tight haircut and no ring. He was young, maybe midtwenties. Blue eyes. She could make some assumptions but judging someone’s outward appearance wasn’t usually a quality assessment.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Addie winced. Just the frustration and bruises talking.

She turned her phone over on the leg of her jeans. It would be easy enough to get the mayor on the phone and figure out if this was par for the course in Benson. Then again, she didn’t start until tomorrow. Maybe he had no clue who she was.

One could hope.

She wanted to get this done and get home. “Does the grocery store have cameras?”

He glanced at the closest light pole. Hesitated. Frowned.

Addie stood. “I’ll go ask inside.” All the frozen stuff in her trunk would be toast, even if it was freezing out here. But maybe they’d replace it. She couldn’t leave right now.

Addie didn’t get up from the trunk. That thought about leaving stumped her.

She could go home now. This wasn’t her case, or her jurisdiction—yet. She didn’t need to get her hands dirty on her last day off. Working a hit-and-run that was probably random but might not be.

“Does stuff like this happen in this part of town, or often?” Frustration or not, did she want to get in the middle of the police doing their job?

The young officer pulled out a logbook. “How about you just tell me what happened?”

Lights.

She’d frozen there as the past resurged like a dragon woken from sleep. “White car. I didn’t see a license plate on the back as it sped away. There might’ve been one on the front. Maybe the security picked it up—we can check.”

He looked up from his notepad and blinked those eyes. “Because there’s a reason you’re authorized to do that?”

Addie decided then that his looks disarmed criminals and witnesses alike. He was either irritated by that or used it to his advantage regularly. She showed him both of her hands, palms out, then reached her back pocket. She turned slightly and showed him the fabric of her pants. She used two fingers to pull out her wallet.

“You’re a cop.”

“FBI Special Agent Addie Franklin.”

“The new agent that starts tomorrow.” He nodded slowly.

Addie studied him, looking for some indication of how the local police viewed her impending arrival. She wasn’t some unfamiliar face—whether that proved to be good or bad. “I grew up in Benson. My family lives here.”

He nodded. “Everyone knows Russ Franklin.”

Addie looked at his name badge and stuck out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Officer Hummet.”

“You too, Special Agent Franklin.”

“Addie is fine if we’re not both on the job.”

“Sounds good.”

Either he didn’t know about her history or was professional enough not to mention it. Addie could appreciate both, whichever it was.

She set off. “Let’s go check with the store about cameras.”

Hummet used his radio to call in that he was headed inside the store. “Had a call here a few weeks ago. They have a system. It’s glitchy, so I guess we’ll find out if they dumped the money to fix it or upgrade.”

“Guess we will.” Addie hobbled over the entry mat. Tried not to let on that her hip hurt quite as much as it did.

“Want some ibuprofen while we’re in here?”

Addie glanced over her shoulder and pouted just for show. “Fine.”

Hummet grinned. “Broke my arm last summer. Took me two weeks to admit it was bad. I tried to take down a huge guy running a construction racket. Nearly cried like a baby.”

Addie smiled back.

“Thankfully it didn’t need surgery because it’d started to heal wrong by the time the sergeant ordered me to the doctor.”

“That’s good.”

Addie found the manager and explained what they needed while the guy glanced between her and Hummet. As if the cop needed to provide authorization for her request. Sure, this wasn’t her investigation. She was the victim. But did he think that would hinder her from finding out who did this?

“Just show us where the office is,” she said. “I’m sure we can find our way around your computer ourselves.”

He squinted at her.

Guess not. But it got him to snap to and take them there himself.

The manager settled in a rolling office chair. They got a great view of the bald spot on the top of his head. “Let’s see…” He clicked the mouse and scrolled the wheel, moving the feed on the monitor like rewinding an old VHS tape.

Addie stared at the car. “Too far away to make out the plate.”

She wasn’t even sure there was one on the front bumper. Glare meant she hadn’t seen it—momentarily blinded by the headlights and her trauma.

Hummet hissed out a breath.

Addie didn’t look at herself falling. She waited for a second and watched the part where Jake raced to her.

“Friend of yours?”

“Old acquaintance.”

One she wasn’t sure she wanted to see again. Being in Benson was about work, not reviving a relationship murdered by Ivan Damen—and Addie’s mom. Whatever they’d had, it was gone. Had been for a long time.

She couldn’t believe she was thinking about pursuing it. After fifteen years, the likelihood of something happening between them was as probable as a resurrection. Addie certainly didn’t have that kind of power.

The manager turned, interest on his face.

Addie wondered why he thought she might tell a juicy story. “I should head out.” She turned to Hummet. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“I’ll walk you to your car.”

As soon as they cleared the store—after Hummet detoured her for pain killers—he glanced over. “Any reason that driver made a beeline for you that you can think of?”

Addie worked her mouth back and forth. “Write it up as an accident. There’s no reason to believe it’s connected to something else.”

His jaw flexed as they walked.

“You want me to read you in if it is?” Some cops wanted to stick through the aftermath of a callout. “I just figure you have enough to do without wading in.”

“And if I’m interested in federal work experience?” Hummet adjusted his belt. “A way to see what life is like…across the hall.”

Addie reached her car. She turned and folded her arms. Assessed the officer. It was tempting to think of him as a kid, but he was a professional. A colleague. “Give me your card.”

He pulled one out and handed it over.

“Now I know one cop in Benson.” Addie lifted the card. “I need someone, guess who’s name I’ll mention when I’m talking to your chief?”

Hummet’s smile broadened. “I appreciate that.”

Addie nodded. “Have a good night.”