Page 9 of Chilled

Her sister snorted. “And at my wedding! You have to admit that was pretty poor timing on your part.”

“I’m sorry. I had no right.”

“Yes, you did.” Alice smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You did what any sister would do. You tried to give me one last chance to change my mind. But it’s been seven years, I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it.”

Brenna shrugged into her coat. “Well, you know where I’ll be, and I’ll have my cell phone if you need to contact me.”

“You sure you won’t stay with us? We’d love to have you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be in and out at odd hours, and I only need a place to shower and sleep.”

Alice crossed her arms over her chest and gave Brenna her best big-sister scowl. “Let me guess, you’ll be at the police station the rest of the time.”

“Or out searching for clues.”

“And you couldn’t have crummier weather.”

“Tell me about it.” Brenna hated the last part of winter. After six months of snow, she and everyone else in North Dakota were ready for green grass and sunshine.

Alice sighed. “At least at the police station, you’re surrounded by other cops. And they say better weather is at the back of this storm.”

“I hope so. Look, I have to go.” Brenna straightened her shoulders. “Remember, be careful. If this guy is really after me, you could be in danger just by your association with me. You might consider going to stay in The Cities.” Five hours away, the twin cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul teamed with traffic and their own share of crime. Yet they suddenly seemed like a safe haven compared to the small town of Riverton, North Dakota.

If Brenna did her job right, Riverton would be back on track as one of the best places to raise a family. Then she’d get her promotion and move to Minnesota and even farther away from her hometown and family.

If she didn’t get killed in the meantime.

CHAPTER 3

After checkingin at the hotel, Brenna stripped down to bare skin and padded to the bathroom to brush the road grime from her teeth. As she stood in front of the mirror, her mother’s words returned to bounce around her thoughts.

Settle for a man who’ll accept you and all your scars.

She stood back and assessed herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Besides the toothbrush in her mouth, she looked pretty normal. A little on the short side, but just like anyone else.

Until she turned around.

Pivoting, she glanced over her shoulder at the wide swath of scarred skin from her right shoulder down to the bottom of her right thigh. Laced across the smooth, leathery scar tissue was a mottled pattern of splotchy pink, purple and blue lines. Burned in a freak barn fire as a small child, she accepted the scars as a part of her.

But, as a child, other kids had been cruel. Whenever she’d gone outside in shorts or a swimsuit they’d poked fun at her, calling her “alligator skin” and “burnt cookie.” Not that she’d let that stop her. With her father’s love and encouragement, she’d grown up confident and as normal as she could. Yet when it came to adult situations in the bedroom, the lights were definitely off.

The one time she’d opened herself enough to let a man into her bed, that sleaze-bag Victor Greeley had forgotten to tell her one important fact—that the jerk was married. While she’d been hiding her scars in the dark, Victor had been hiding uglier sins.

She should have known better than to date a traveling salesman. What kind of cop was she that she’d fallen into the age-old trap of being the other, unsuspecting woman?

After she’d learned his secret, avoiding him had been easy...until he’d moved his wife to town and bought a house on a street just around the corner from Alice.

Brenna’s embarrassment at her stupidity, coupled with the guilt she’d felt for nearly ruining another woman’s marriage, had been sufficient motivation to leave town and the police force she’d cut her teeth on. Living in Bismarck, she didn’t have to pass by Victor’s house or bump into his sweet but clueless wife, Ginnie, at the grocery store.

Brenna tapped the water from her toothbrush and ran her tongue across her clean teeth. With the weather so bitterly cold, she couldn’t go out to jog, so she decided to swim in the hotel pool and slipped into a one-piece black swimsuit. Grabbing a beach towel long enough to cover all her scars, she wrapped it around her middle, tucking the edge in at the top. A dozen laps ought to work out the kinks in her neck and shoulders and help her think through the problem of one maniac on the loose. Her mind worked better when she generated exercise-induced endorphins.

The drive from Bismarck had been stressful enough without arriving to find the case had been turned over to the FBI—especially since the man in charge was entirely too egocentric, gruff and good-looking for an FBI agent. Where’d they come up with these guys? She thought agents were chosen for their ability to blend in with a crowd. Not Nick. She could’ve spotted him in the Mall of America as easily as in a small town like Riverton.

She’d do her best to maintain her distance from Agent Tarver. He looked like he could chew her up and spit her out if she crossed the line. Besides, she didn’t have time to play push-me-pull-you with him. A kidnapper was on the loose, and her job was to find him before he abducted someone else.

Brenna slipped into a pair of flip-flops and padded down the hotel hallway to the glassed-in area with the heated pool. When she pushed through the doors, she was engulfed in a thick wave of humidity and the acrid scent of chlorine. She dropped her towel beside the pool and dove in.

Fifteen laps later and still no closer to a clear mind, she surfaced and grabbed the side of the pool. When she raised her hand to brush the stinging chlorine from her eyes, an iron grip clamped onto her wrist, and she was jerked from the water.

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