thought you were in labor.”
“And I was wrong. This is my first, you know. Come on, Cade. You’ve got your camera, right? We’ll get the scoop. Then you can bring me home.”
“Sorry, but I’m on duty tonight. I was supposed to be in Lakeview an hour ago.”
“Why didn’t you say something? I could have found someone else to hang out at the hospital with me.”
“I didn’t want you to have to find someone else. Besides, another officer is filling in for me until I get there.”
“I wish you’d told me. Oh, wait, I get it. Jim talked you into babysitting me while he was out of town, didn’t he?” Her voice was sharp, a frown line between her brows.
“Jim didn’t have to talk me into anything. We’re friends, Sandy. What was I supposed to do? Tell you I had to work and leave you at the hospital alone?”
She shook her head, brown curls sliding against her cheeks. “Ignore me. I’ve been a bear lately. Go ahead and drop me off at home. I’ll miss the story of the century, but I can get the information tomorrow. Better late than never.”
Cade rolled his eyes. He knew the score. He’d been friends with Jim for most of his life and with Sandy for the eight years since she’d met and married his friend. The pout, the pretense of agreeing with Cade’s plan, they were both part of an act designed to get what she wanted. They worked every time. “You’re a pest, you know that?”
“Jim’s been telling me that for years.”
“Well, he’s been right.” But Cade turned left at the next light, following a police cruiser and the high-pitched whine of sirens.
“Look! Something’s burning!” Sandy’s excited cry filled the car, her finger barely missing Cade’s nose as she pointed toward thick black smoke that hung above the buildings a few blocks away. A fire truck screamed a warning and raced by Cade’s SUV. Before he could pull in behind it, an ambulance roared past. Sandy was right. Whatever was happening was big. Cade’s fingers itched to grab his camera, to shoot pictures of the emergency vehicles, the people standing in frozen silence in parking lots and on sidewalks. Fear. Excitement. Cade could read it all in their faces, and he knew he could capture it on film.
Adrenaline pounded through him, urging him to step on the gas and head into the fray. During his years as a crime-scene photographer for the military police, he would have done just that. Time and experience had tempered him. He glanced at Sandy, saw his own urge to move reflected in her face. Too bad. There was no way he was taking her with him.
He pulled into a convenience store parking lot, turned to his passenger. “If you step foot out of this car, I’ll burn any pictures I get at the scene. Stay put and the Gazette gets first dibs on them.”
“Wait a minute—”
“Take it or leave it.”
“Take it.” Sandy huffed back into her seat, a scowl pulling down the corners of her mouth.
Cade ignored the show, parked the car, grabbed his Nikon off the back seat and pushed open the door. The acrid scent of smoke burned his throat and nose as he made his way along the sidewalk. Up ahead, police cars blocked the road and two officers directed the rerouted traffic. Cade recognized one of them and strode toward him. “Matt! What’s up?”
Matt Jenkins turned and glanced at Cade’s camera. “You shooting pictures for one of the newspapers?”
“Lynchburg Gazette.”
“Thought maybe you were here as a cop.”
“I haven’t been a cop in a while.”
“That’s not what I hear.”
“What do you hear?” Cade lifted his camera, took a shot of the cruisers blocking the road.
“I hear you’re back in uniform. Working in Lakeview.”
“Part-time. Just for the summer.”
“Part-time. Full-time. Doesn’t matter. A cop’s a cop.”
“Maybe so. You know what’s going on?”
“Attempted kidnapping. Fire started during the woman’s escape.”
“Did you get the perp?”
“Not yet. We’ve got witnesses, though, so who knows? You can go on through. Must be five news trucks there already.”
“Thanks.” Cade worked his way toward the scene, scanning the crowds that lined the street, shooting pictures as he went. Just a few would have captured the essence of the moment—the fear and excitement of the crowd, the smoke pouring from the building, ambulances and fire trucks with lights still flashing, news crews pressing toward the scene. Cade was more interested in capturing something else.
“You think he’s here?” The voice was familiar, and Cade turned to face Jake Reed, sheriff of Lakeview and Cade’s boss as of a week ago.
“Statistically, the chances are good.”
“True, but I’m not asking about statistics, I’m asking what you think. Is the perp hanging out in the crowd, or has he already flown?”
“He’s here.” Cade lifted the camera again, his attention on the people milling about.
“I’m thinking the same. Keep shooting while we walk.”
Cade did as he was asked, snapping a shot of Jake and the crowd behind him. “You’re a long way from home, sheriff. Did Lynchburg PD call you in?”
“A friend’s sister was on the evening news and he asked me to come check on her. What about you? I thought you were at the hospital.”
“A false alarm. It only took three hours to figure it out.”
“Glad to hear it wasn’t anything serious.”
“Me, too. And since it wasn’t, I’d be happy to report in tonight.” Desperate to report in was more apt, but Cade doubted Jake needed to know that.
“We could use another officer.” Jake gestured to a group of women standing near an ambulance. “Can you get a couple of pictures of those ladies?”
“Sure.”
“And the crowd behind them.”
Cade lifted the camera and took several pictures as he moved closer, the lens bringing the group into stark focus. A few women huddled together, soot and tears streaking their faces. Others stared hollow-eyed at the burning building. Shock. He’d seen it too many times not to know what it was. Only one of the women looked animated—a short blonde whose hands danced as she spoke to a uniformed police officer.
She glanced Cade’s way as he and Jake approached, her gray eyes wide and thickly lashed, the band of black around her irises giving her an otherworldly look. Cade knew those eyes. Memories flashed through his mind—Seth Sinclair and his three brothers, two of them with the same wide, gray eyes. Their sister—small, always talking, always moving. Always in trouble. Piper. An odd name for an odd kid. Only she wasn’t a kid anymore.
Dressed in faded sweatpants and a bright pink T-shirt, her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked calm, despite the chaos around her. The police officer said something to her and she nodded, lifting thick, straight bangs away from her forehead and revealing a deep blue bruise. Then she gestured to the livid welts along her arm.
Piper Sinclair might not be a kid anymore, but apparently she hadn’t outgrown her penchant for finding trouble. Cade could only hope the Lynchburg police would have an easier time of protecting her than her brothers had had while she was growing up.
TWO
Piper was in the middle of explaining for the fifth time the roundhouse kick she’d used to disarm the kidnapper, when Jake Reed stepped up beside her.