Page 91 of Fire Fight

Once I was dressed and set the coffee to brewing, I squared my shoulders and strolled outside to assess the damage.

I wasn’t sure whether to be happy or sad that my car was gone, leaving nothing but a wide, misshapen scorch mark in the center of the concrete pad I’d parked on. The garage doors had also been cleaned, though the once-pristine white paint now sported a pink tinge as a reminder of the words that had been there before.

You can run…

A shiver wracked my body, and I rushed back inside, slamming the door and triple checking that the lock was bolted, the security system armed—then made my rounds of the rest of exterior doors and windows to ensure the house was completely secure.

My stomach was still too unsettled to eat, despite the fact that I couldn’t name the last time I’d consumed a meal, so I took my mug of coffee into the office, sitting in front of the murder board and thinking while I sipped.

What were we missing?

After another hour, my coffee was gone, and my eyes were gritty from staring so long at the wall, willing a clue to jump out at me.

I knew what I’d normally do in these situations: go for a walk. That always did wonders for my peace of mind, both from a stress standpoint, and because allowing my thoughts to wander was the perfect brainstorming activity.

Walking Crew’s property without anyone nearby should something happen was a terrible idea, doubly so because I had no idea where I was going. But I was already getting a mean case of cabin fever after only a few hours cooped up inside. I needed fresh air. I needed to feel the sun on my skin and hear the whisper of the leaves on the trees rustling in the wind.

What Crew didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

With that thought, I brought my mug back to the kitchen, rinsed it and loaded it in the dishwasher, then retreated to my room to change into a pair of leggings and a comfy tee, pulling a fleece overtop that I could remove if I got too warm.

My taser was stuffed in the pocket. I wasn’tthatreckless.

Stepping outside instantly improved my mood. Like the band that had been holding my lungs hostage finally slipped free, allowing me my first full intake of breath since…God, I didn’t know when. Maybe since before I’d been abducted.

Crew’s property was stunning. The house itself was shadedby a few maple trees, and a long dirt path cut off the main drive into a field that went on what seemed like forever until it butted up against a thick stand of pine trees in the distance. I walked along one of the narrow tracks made by years of tire treads, the tall country grasses swishing around my calves.

And to think, this and what I’d seen at the Lawless family home were only small portions of the ranch land. I found myself wishing to explore all of it, to take an ATV and ride along tracks like this one that likely crisscrossed the acreage. I wanted to learn more about the rescue and dude ranches, pick Trey’s brain about his security company. Hear Aria sing for a crowd. Listen to more stories about their parents and the brother who didn’t live here.

I wanted to learn how to ride a horse, and hear more about Finn and West’s ranch operations.

I wantedeverythingwhen it came to this place.

I stumbled a step, that thought pulling me up short.

For the first time in way longer than I could remember, despite the fact that I had a crazed serial killer after me, I was at peace. This place, these hills and valleys, the people.

Crew.

All of it had settled me in a way I’d never found before, not even in my own home. I loved my parents, but I’d never been very good at living up to the high standards Lola had set, and when she was gone, well…I couldn’t compete with a dead girl. I missed my sister with every fiber of my being, and I wished more than anything she was still here, giving me nieces and nephews and growing old alongside me. Instead, she was frozen in time as that perfect girl about to graduate college at the top of her class, forever setting the bar out of my reach.

I knew Mom and Dad loved me, and maybe they didn’t mean to, but they constantly made me feel like I was never good enough. Like everything I did fell short of the woman they expected me to be. And that included when I’d landed theSun Timesjob right out of college. Instead of “we’re so proud of thewoman you are” I often heard “why can’t you be more like Lola?”

After the ordeal that ultimately had me giving up my life in Chicago in favor of running as far away as I could, I stopped trying to meet their expectations, though they still refused to give up the fight. Mostly Mom. Dad was happy one of his daughters still drew breath.

I didn’t understand why that couldn’t be enough for Mom. Even now, after I’d almost lost my lifeagain, she hadn’t been able to let the impossible standards go, nor had she given up trying to micromanage my life despite my constant protestations.

After leaving Chicago, getting my PI license and bopping around the country had been fun—in theory. But I’d never felt the pull to put down roots any deeper than the shallow ones I’d planted in Denver.

That was nothing compared to the way I felt about Dusk Valley.

A lot of that had to do with my sexy-as-sin, tattooed, overprotective roommate.

I spent a few hours wandering the property, and while nothing in regards to the case jumped out at me, I felt recharged when I returned to the house.

Until I walked inside and was greeted by the faint strains of music.

Someone was in the house, and I knew it couldn’t be Crew. He’d texted me a bit ago from the station to check in.