Page 8

CHAPTER 8

ELLIOT

T he river roars beside us as we comb the park. It’s long past dark, and we’ve already been at it for four hours. Tucker and Riley ended up splitting off and heading for the Jacksons’ property line since, at this rate, we wouldn’t have finished if all five of us stayed on the same path.

Bradyn walks to my left while Dylan is just behind, sweeping the area closest to the creek. This park is made up of over a hundred acres, most of them treed in the way Jane described in her memory.

Which means we have a lot of ground to cover.

Aside from trash left behind by people who can’t be bothered to throw it in one of the trash cans lining the hiking trails, we’ve found nothing.

But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing here.

Echo tugs on the leash then lets out a single bark. “He’s got something,” I say aloud, even though my brothers both know my dog’s signals the same as I do. Reaching down, I unclip the leash from his harness. “ Voran, ” I order. Go on. He takes off, rushing through the trees, and I follow, my brothers behind me. We sprint through brush a few hundred yards then come to a stop when Echo sits beside a tree.

He looks back at me and barks.

I withdraw my weapon as I come around the corner—just in case. But the moment I see a pair of bare feet sticking out from behind the trunk, I holster my weapon. “Echo found someone!” I call back to my brothers as I rush around.

My stomach plummets when the beam of my flashlight illuminates a woman leaning against the tree. Her hair is matted and dirty, and there’s a red stain on the front of the man’s white button-down shirt she’s wearing.

Just like our Jane Doe.

Only, she’s not lucky enough to have survived whatever was done to her.

Moving carefully, I reach forward and press my fingertips to her throat, checking for a heartbeat I already know I won’t find. The body isn’t quite cold yet, but there’s no pulse.

“Calling it in.” Bradyn steps away, and I lower my hand.

“She’s gone.” I study the woman. The white shirt is covering a dress that peeks out and rests right at her knees. Unlike Jane, though, there are no defensive wounds on the body. Her feet aren’t even dirty.

I stand, anger burning in my chest because I know exactly what this might mean. Two women dressed in the same outfit. Both left to die in the woods. Does Pine Creek have a serial killer?

“She’s dressed just like Jane was,” Dylan growls.

“I know.” I turn back toward him. “She’s been out here a few hours,” I tell them.

“Which means, if the killer were here, he’s long gone now,” Dylan says, turning to study the trees.

“Why just leave her out in the open like this?” I question. “Why not bury the body? Or toss her in the creek like he did with Jane?”

“Could be he was interrupted,” Dylan replies.

I stand, desperate for air. Flashes of that night, so long ago, assault my mind. Stumbling over Renee’s body in the dark. Landing in a pool of blood. Her face turned up toward me, eyes frozen wide.

I make a fist and press it against my heart. God, help me. Please help me.

“You good, brother?” Dylan clasps a hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll be fine.” I suck in a breath, but when I turn back toward the woman, it’s not a stranger I see. It’s Jane. “One thing’s for sure. This wasn’t a hit-and-run. Which means Jane was likely hit while she was trying to get away. I don’t think she was an accident.”

“I don’t either,” Dylan replies.

“Gibson is on his way. There was an incident at the hospital,” Bradyn says, crossing the distance toward us.

Fear ices through the assault of memories. “What happened?”

His gaze is hard, his jaw set. “Someone tried to kill Jane.”

* * *

An hour later, I’m shoving through the doors of the hospital. It would have been sooner if I could’ve shown up here in full tactical gear and not had a mountain of questions to answer. So after I dropped all the gear and Echo off at my house, I sped here as fast as I could.

Bradyn said she was alive.

Lani confirmed it.

But until I have eyes on Jane, I won’t believe it.

“We changed her room,” Kira, a nurse working the emergency room desk says as she buzzes me in. It’s after hours, but everyone here knows me, and Lani alerted them that I’d be coming through.

Even if she hadn’t, only a bullet would have stopped me.

“Where is she?”

“Room four-fifteen,” she replies.

“Thanks.” I rush toward the elevator. But when it doesn’t immediately come, I head for the stairs. I take them quickly, two steps at a time. By the time I’ve reached the fourth floor, there’s a thin layer of sweat on my arms.

But it doesn’t matter.

I fling the door open and head down the hall. Her new room is directly across from the nurse’s station, and they all glance up as I stop in front of it. I can feel her there, a knowing presence just on the other side of the door.

With a deep breath, I knock.

“Come in,” a raspy voice calls out.

I push it open and step into the dim light. Lani crosses over toward me and smiles softly then squeezes my arm before leaving without a word.

Jane is staring at the door when I come inside. Her eyes are rimmed with red, her throat bruised. There’s a cut on the side of her head, and white-hot rage sears me from the inside.

“Hey,” she greets, trying to force a smile.

“Are you all right?” I cross toward her, stopping only once I’ve reached her bedside. Closer now, I can see the handprints bruising her throat clearly. And it only makes that rage burn hotter.

“I’m alive,” she replies. Her gaze darkens. “He’s not.”

“If you hadn’t killed him, I would have,” I growl.

She studies me. “Murder is not okay.”

“It wouldn’t have been murder,” I reply.

“If you’d done it, it would have been.”

She’s right—obviously—but that doesn’t make my statement any less true. Even as I know vengeance does not belong to us, I don’t know that I would’ve been able to leash the rage within me at the sight of her damaged throat.

She could have died.

“You did good,” I tell her. “Defending yourself.”

“I don’t know where it came from. Gibson said the man was twice my size, and he’s surprised I survived.”

“Gibson should have chosen someone better to protect you.”

“It’s not his fault. The deputy thought the guy worked here. He checked his badge and everything. It was just a mistake.”

I clench my fists. “A mistake that nearly cost you your life.”

“You’re not wrong.” She reaches up and touches her throat, fingers trembling. “I really thought I was going to die.” Her eyes fill, so I step forward and take her hand in mine. Touching her feels right, and it calms the anger still waging war within me.

“I’m sorry. You should’ve been safe. I promised you that you would be safe.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says. “I just—” Jane closes her eyes, and a tear slips free. “I didn’t want to be alone. That’s why Lani was here. I went from not being afraid to being terrified.”

“Someone just tried to kill you,” I remind her. “It would be foolish to not be afraid.” I reach back with my free hand and tug the chair closer so I can sit. “I’ll make sure you’re not alone anymore, okay?”

She nods, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m so tired, but every time I close my eyes, I see him there. Standing over me, dark eyes full of hatred, his hands around my throat.”

I have to take a moment to breathe as the visual settles over me, too. Then I reach forward and brush my fingers over her cheek. “Sleep, Jane. I’ll watch over you, okay? No one—and I mean no one —will get to you while I’m here.”

Her eyes flutter closed, and she nods. “I believe you.”

“Good. Now sleep, Jane.”

It’s not two minutes later before her breathing softens and she’s drifted off. In the silence and the dim light of the room, I take a moment to study her features. She’s beautiful. A sharp nose dotted with freckles that dance on elegant cheekbones.

Who are you?

The door creaks open, and I glance back as Lani enters the room.

“Good. You got her to sleep.”

“Where’s the deputy who was supposed to be watching her?”

“Relieved from duty while Gibson decides what to do with him.”

“He needs to be fired.”

“As much as I want to agree with you, he made a mistake.”

“That nearly cost Jane her life.”

Lani rests her hand on my shoulder. “You’ll get no argument from me.” She yawns.

“You’re tired, too.”

She nods. “Been here since five yesterday morning. I pulled a double shift since the hospital is short-staffed. Then I hung around because Jane didn’t want to be alone.”

“Go ahead and go get some sleep. I’ll watch over her.”

“Yeah? You must be tired too. Did you find anything out there?”

“We’ll talk later,” I tell her, not wanting to get into it while Jane is sleeping only a few inches away from where I’m sitting. “Or better yet, call Bradyn and have him come get you so you’re not driving.”

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m going to sleep in the on-call room. There’s no way I have the energy to go home and do all the things necessary to sleep in my own bed.” She chuckles, and I note the dark circles under her eyes.

Lani has always been a hard worker, but these extra hours are going to kill her if she’s not careful. “Lani, call Bradyn. You’ll feel better in your bed.”

“Jane might need me.”

“Then I’ll call. Please, sis, get sleep.”

She opens her mouth, presumably to argue with me, but closes it again and nods. “Bradyn’s awake?”

“Yeah. He was talking to Gibson.”

“Okay. I’ll give him a call and have him come get me.”

“Great. Sleep well.”

“Call me if she needs anything, okay?”

I shift my gaze back to Jane. She’s sleeping soundly, her red hair splayed out on the white pillow. “I will.”