Page 2 of Out of the Shadows (Angelhart Investigations)

Laura hooked her arm through Logan’s as her brother walked her to her car.

“I love it,” she said with a glance at the beautiful home on a rare five acres in Cave Creek, near the exclusive Boulders

resort. “This is you.”

“I think so, too.” He looked at the house, nodded. “Thirty days. I didn’t think living at the resort would be that bad, but

I need more space and privacy. The house isn’t too big, and I love having more land.”

“We all need a bit of elbow room.”

Two months ago, Logan had learned his wife had cheated on him and her lover had embezzled from a company Logan had founded,

and then tried to steal from Logan. Against Laura’s advice, he’d given his soon-to-be ex-wife the house they’d shared and

three million dollars, even though her infidelity should have gotten her nothing based on the prenup she’d signed.

But Logan, for all his wealth and business acumen, was a softie. She loved him for it, except when someone—like his ex—abused

his kindness.

After, he moved into a condo at the Scottsdale golf resort he was in the middle of renovating. Convenient, but impractical.

“Where are those darn kids of mine?” Laura said. As she drew in a breath to call them, Sydney and Cody ran from the side of

the house.

“Are you going to get a horse, Uncle Logan?” Cody said.

“Probably not a horse, but I’m thinking about a dog.”

Sydney brightened. “My best friend’s Lab is going to have puppies in four weeks!”

“I said thinking ,” Logan said with a grin.

Laura glanced at her brother. If Logan was thinking about a dog, that meant he wasn’t going to travel much. She had worried

that after the divorce, he wouldn’t want to be in Phoenix as often, and then what would be keeping her here? Their parents

wanted her to move back to Texas. Laura loved where she’d grown up, but there was not much to do in their little town outside

San Angelo.

“It’s late, we need to get going,” Laura said.

“I’ll need your help furnishing the place, sis,” Logan said. “You know what I like.”

Logan was one of the most brilliant people she knew, but he only bought what he needed when he needed it. He’d given everything

but his personal belongings to his ex, so he’d be starting from scratch.

“I love spending your money,” she teased and kissed his cheek.

She motioned for the kids to get into the 4-Runner, then climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Buckle,” she said automatically when she turned the ignition. Cody was nine. Not a day went by that she didn’t have to tell

him to buckle. Sometimes, Laura thought he intentionally waited for her to remind him.

Sydney grabbed Laura’s phone and scrolled through the music. She desperately wanted her own phone, but Laura had put her foot

down—high school was soon enough. They had two flip-phones in the house for the kids to take when they went biking or horseback

riding; neither needed a portable computer in their pocket.

Laura honked at Logan when she turned west and he turned east out of his new neighborhood.

It was a straight shot to her house in Desert Hills, a rural community on the very northern edge of Phoenix where she lived

in a house Logan had bought after her divorce. She hadn’t wanted to accept it—just because Logan had money didn’t mean he

should spend it on her after her ex-husband had lost everything they’d owned in one of his get-rich-quick schemes. Logan wanted

to give it to her, but she’d said no, though she’d agreed to move in if he agreed that she would pay the mortgage. Having

the space was a huge relief. She could keep her animals, the kids had a home base and she wouldn’t have to worry (as much)

about rebuilding from nothing.

After starting and stopping six songs in less than a minute, Sydney finally settled on one by a young female artist who had

a nice voice, but Laura didn’t recognize.

It was later than Laura wanted to be out. They’d gone to dinner with Logan before touring the house, and then she and Logan

spent far too much time talking about the house, the kids, and their family back in Texas. Their baby brother—not so much

a baby anymore at thirty-three—had taken over most of the day-to-day responsibilities of the family ranch along with his wife,

who was pregnant with their third child, due on New Year’s Day.

Laura also had work early tomorrow, but the kids were out of school for the summer. Now that Sydney was twelve, they stayed

home alone when they didn’t have one of their many activities. Juggling rides and pickups necessitated a wall calendar. On

Mondays, Laura dropped the kids off at the Anthem rec center on her way to work, provided they finished their morning chores.

Having animals—four horses, two goats, a dozen chickens, and three dogs—meant responsibility. Fortunately, her kids loved

their small farm as much as Laura did.

Cody chattered away about what kind of dog Logan should get, and Sydney sang along with the music. Laura turned onto Carefree

Highway. Sunday-night traffic was light.

Bright lights suddenly flashed behind her, blinding through her back window. For a second she thought they were going to rear-end

her.

“Jerk,” she muttered. She pulled over to the right lane, and the truck immediately pulled over with her.

That’s when she grew concerned.

“Check your seat belts,” she ordered her children.

Cody and Sydney both looked behind them, shielding their eyes. Laura sped up; the car behind her kept pace. The speed limit

was fifty-five, and she was now going over sixty-five.

She quickly considered her options. There wasn’t a safe place to turn off for at least a mile, and if the driver followed

she would be trapped.

“Sydney, call 911.”

“Mom?” her daughter said, fear in her voice.

“Tell them—”

The truck slammed into the back of her truck. Laura screamed, fighting the wheel, but another jolt hit her left side, hard,

spinning the 4-Runner out of control. It hit a post, flipped, rolled—once, twice—and landed upright, crumpled against a fence.

Sudden silence. Then she heard the engine ticking, glass falling, horns honking.

She couldn’t speak. She could scarcely breathe. Her heart pounded painfully. Shards of safety glass clung to her lap, stuck

in her hair. The steering wheel was jammed against her legs.

Sydney. Cody.

“Kids,” she said faintly.

It was on purpose. That truck hit her on purpose! Were they coming back?

“Kids!” Now she heard herself, though her ears were ringing. “Sydney! Cody!”

“Mommy?” Cody said.

Thank God. “Cody, baby, are you okay?”

“What happened?”

Sydney started crying.

“Syd, honey? Are you hurt?”

Sydney was talking and crying at the same time and Laura didn’t understand what she was saying.

A knock on her roof made Laura scream.

“Ma’am? I called the police. I saw that truck hit you.”

An older man in his sixties stood there.

“Police,” Laura said. She tried to clear her head. “Thank you. My kids.”

“Don’t move yet. You’re bleeding.”

She hadn’t noticed, but when he said it she reached for her head and came away with blood on her fingers.

“Sydney. Sydney,” Laura repeated as her daughter’s cries became more hysterical. “I’m okay. Are you hurt? Sydney, are you hurt ?”

“They hit us!” she wailed. “On purpose! Mom!”

“Is anything broken?”

“N-n-no.”

They would all be sore tomorrow, Laura thought.

“Cody?” She tried to turn to see her son in the back, but it hurt to move her neck. “Cody? Are you okay?”

“I want to get out, Mom. Can I get out? There’s glass all over.”

Laura said to Sydney, “If you can get out, you stay with your brother, okay?”

“What about you? Ohmigod Mom! You’re hurt!”

“No,” she assured her daughter. It wasn’t the complete truth—but it wasn’t serious. She hoped. “The steering wheel is wedged

on my legs, but I’m okay, I promise.”

She could feel her feet and toes; she didn’t feel any sharp pain in her legs. She suspected a mild concussion, whiplash, some

cuts on her face and hands.

But her babies were okay. That was all she cared about.

Five minutes later the first officer arrived, followed by a fire truck and ambulance. The firefighters got her out of the

seat but wouldn’t let her walk until the paramedics checked her out. They wanted her to go to the hospital, but after she

walked a few feet back and forth, she knew nothing was broken. She might be a vet and not a medical doctor, but she would

know if she was seriously injured.

Laura talked to the man who had stopped to help them—Melvin Janson. He stayed with them the entire time, helped to calm the

kids, and gave a statement to the police that was clear and concise.

“The truck passed me about two miles back, just past the old church that shut down a few years back, they use it as an event

center now. I flashed my lights at him to slow down, but he didn’t slow.”

“Did you see the driver?” the officer asked.

“No. There were two people, though—I saw someone in the passenger seat. I got a sense that the driver was a man, large build,

but I barely caught a glimpse of the passenger.”

The officer took notes. “And then?”

“Ms. Barrett was in the left lane, and when the truck came up on her, she moved over to the right. He immediately followed

and rear-ended her—then hit her again on the left corner of the car, causing her to spin out and roll. They didn’t stop, didn’t

even slow down, just continued down Carefree Highway heading west.”

“Did you get a good look at the make and model?”

“A dark pickup. I think Ford, but I can’t swear to it. I didn’t get the license number, but it was a California plate.”

“That gives us something. Thank you.”

Laura called Logan and told him they’d been in an accident and asked for a ride. She could have called a friend, but she was

shaken and wanted her brother.

She tried to figure out why someone had hit her. Twice. Maybe she’d cut them off and hadn’t realized it. Road rage was real. Or a couple of drunks messing around. But if they were

drunk, why had they hit her twice ? Unless the second time was an accident as they were fleeing. Maybe mistaken identity? Were they trying to hurt someone in

a similar car?

Whoever they were, she was grateful that she and the kids were okay.

“Did you call Dad?” Sydney asked as they sat in the back of the police car waiting for Logan.

Laura hadn’t thought of it. Her first thought was her brother, the one person who never let her down, never disappointed her.

And if she was honest, she was still upset with her ex for canceling his weekend with the kids. He was supposed to pick them

up on Friday after work and have them all weekend. They’d been looking forward to it, and this wasn’t the first time he had

canceled last minute.

“Of course, I’ll do that now,” Laura said.

Her phone was cracked from the accident, but that was minor considering that she doubted her 4-Runner was salvageable. She

called Charlie.

It went immediately to voicemail. That irritated her—once again, he’d let his phone die. What if she had needed him? What

if one of the kids had been seriously injured?

“Charlie, it’s Laura. Give me a call as soon as you can. The kids are fine, but we were in an accident. I’ll tell you what

happened when we talk. Bye.”

“He didn’t answer?” Sydney said, her voice cracking.

“It went to voicemail. You know Dad forgets to charge his phone.”

Sydney looked glum and put her head on Laura’s shoulder.

Laura should have accepted long ago that Charlie would continue to disappoint their kids. But every time, it was another knife

twist in her heart.

Her brother talked to the police, to Melvin—who had waited with them until Logan arrived—and then finally they left the accident.

By the time Logan pulled into her driveway, it was nearly midnight and Laura was exhausted.

But she was home.

Obi and R2—their four-year-old Labs—ran up to the car, even more excited than Laura that the family was home.

The dogs shouldn’t be out.

Her first thought was that Cody had left the back door unlatched—the dogs had been known to open the door if they heard or

smelled something interesting. But Cody was diligent about the animals, better about his responsibilities than any other nine-year-old

she knew.

Cody was the first out of the car. “How’d you boys get out?” he asked firmly, sounding more like a man than a little boy,

making Laura’s heartstrings tighten.

They didn’t let the dogs out alone at night because of the coyotes and foxes that prowled Desert Hills after sundown.

Cody led the dogs around to the back of the house while Logan helped Laura out of the car. “I’m fine,” she said even as she

winced at her sore muscles.

“The paramedic said tomorrow you’ll feel like you were hit by a truck—oh wait, you were hit by a truck.”

“Mom, let us help you for a change.” Sydney picked up the bag of personal items they’d collected from their totaled 4-Runner.

“You need to take it easy too, Sydney. You’re going to be sore, just like me.”

“I’m young, I’ll bounce back faster,” Sydney teased. She sounded almost like her normal self.

Laura sighed. She had never felt old—and thirty-six was not old. But the ten-minute drive from the accident to home had stiffened her muscles. A couple Tylenol and lots of water and

a hot bath sounded very good right now, but that might have to wait until tomorrow because she wasn’t certain she’d be able

to get out of the tub on her own tonight.

“Mom!” Cody screamed.

Logan ran to the back of the house and Laura followed as fast as she could, her heart pounding.

Cody was standing in the backyard, holding the collars of the two Labs, who were both trying to get out of his grasp.

The back door leading into the large, country-style kitchen was askew. The beautiful antique cabinet she’d lovingly restored

last summer, where she kept her favorite dishes and her grandmother’s china, had been pushed over and partly blocked the threshold.

Someone had broken into her house.

She drew Sydney close to her side. “Where’s Bagel?” Sydney asked of their nine-year-old beagle. “Bagel!” She ran toward the

house, but Logan pulled her back.

“Wait, Sydney.”

He had his phone out and dialed 911.

“What if they hurt him?” Sydney wailed. “Or he got out and is lost? Or a coyote got him? Bagel can’t outrun a coyote!” Tears

started to fall.

As if the little dog heard them, a chunky beagle wiggled through the space between the fallen cabinet and the door frame.

He bounded over to Laura, his white-tipped tail wagging furiously. Sydney collapsed to her knees and hugged him. He licked

her tears.

Logan said into his phone, “I need to report a break-in.”