far from you.”
“Tell them to hurry!”
“Stay on the line with me, Ms. Harrison.”
“I’ll try.”
“Are you alone?”
“No. I have my...my...son.” She didn’t have time to explain the complicated relationship she had with this sweet child. And he was her son. It would be official in two weeks.
“How old is he?”
“Sixteen months.”
Finally!
Her fingers wrapped around the keys. She shoved the diaper bag into the passenger seat and rested the keys on her leg, tracing each one in the dark to find the car key.
Her hands shook and she pulled in a triumphant breath when she slid the right one in the ignition. She didn’t turn it yet—didn’t want the noise of the engine to alert her intruder. She’d make sure she was ready to exit first.
She reached for the button on her visor that would activate the garage door opener, but the door into the house opened. She bit back a scream as a man’s silhouette appeared and stalked toward her.
“There’s someone here.”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Harrison, I didn’t quite catch that. Did you say there was someone—”
“He’s coming—”
She was out of time. No sense in hiding now. She reached for the garage door opener again. She wasn’t going to sit here and wait for him to do whatever he planned to do.
She pressed the button. Again. And again. Why wasn’t it opening?
The horrible truth overwhelmed her. He must have known she was in here. While she’d thought she was getting away undetected, he’d managed to disable her garage door. Probably flipped the breaker in the laundry room. There was no way her little Camry could drive through the garage door, but she had to try.
She turned the key. In the light filtering in from the house, she saw the gun in his hand.
He aimed it at her window.
* * *
Detective Jason Drake pulled his Ford Explorer into the restaurant parking lot and answered his cell phone. “Hey, Michael. I’m here,” he said. He and Michael Ellis had met for dinner almost every Thursday night since he’d come to work for the Henderson County Sheriff’s Office six months ago.
“Sorry, man. I’m not going to make it. Dispatch called.”
“Like that’s a surprise,” Jason said. It had taken him all of two days on the job to realize his old friend had a soft spot for the dispatcher.
“It’s not like that,” Michael said. “We got a call from the Harrisons.”
The Harrisons. He fought the memories pounding on the door of his heart. “Is something wrong at the plant?”
“No. The call came from Caroline Harrison.”
The mention of her name opened the floodgates, and memories engulfed him. Big blue eyes flashing in laughter at a private joke. Full lips curved into a smile that was only for him. The many times he’d held her hand. The one time he’d held her in his arms.
“She said there was an armed intruder at her house.”
Jason floored it. “I’m on my way.”
His phone rang one minute later. The sheriff.
“Drake, we have a situation at Caroline Harri—”
Despite his respect for his boss, Jason cut the man off. “Yes, sir, I heard.”
“I want you to take the lead on this.”
Good. Now he had an excuse to be there. Not that it would have mattered. He had to make sure Caroline was all right.
“Of course, sir. I’m on my way.”
“Jason, I want this case solved fast, you hear me? And I want you to do whatever you have to do to keep Caroline Harrison safe.”
“Yes, sir.”
It took five agonizing minutes to reach the Harrisons’ gated driveway. One uniformed officer stood there, blocking the path up the mountain.
Jason rolled down his window and the young man—Dan? Dave? He’d figure it out later—approached his window.
“Hey, Jason. You here for the excitement, too, huh? It’s a madhouse up there.”
Jason could sense the kid’s disappointment about not being more directly involved, but he didn’t have time to play nice with... Dalton. That was it. “What’s the status?”
“The house is secure. Caroline and the baby are fine, just shook up. No idea where the intruder is.”
“Thanks.” He started to roll up the window.
“Hey.” Dalton put a hand out. “You know where you’re going, right? Caroline’s place is past the senior Harrisons’ about a quarter of a mile.”
He knew. This driveway was one long memory. He drove past the short drive to the house where her brother, Blake, lived with his daughter and his new wife, Heidi. He hadn’t had a chance to meet her yet.
As he approached Caroline’s parents’ home, the activity level increased. Officers and patrol cars with lights flashing dotted the mountain. The house glowed like a beacon. He’d spent so many happy hours in that house. Jeffrey and Eleanor had always welcomed him. Until he blew it with Caroline.
He forced his mind back to the present. Dwelling on the mistakes of the past wouldn’t change anything.
He followed the driveway past the Harrisons’ home and farther up the mountain. They’d hiked to the top of this mountain more than once, and Caroline always said this was where she wanted to live. At sixteen, she hadn’t been sure her dad would sell her the land.
Of course, Jeffrey Harrison had done one better. Jason could still remember the excitement in his mom’s voice as she’d filled him in. “Caroline stopped by last week,” she’d said. “She’s so excited. Jeffrey and Eleanor gave her the top of the mountain for her twenty-fifth birthday. She’s meeting with an architect this week and planning her dream house.”
He eased around a final curve. Dream house, indeed.
She’d always been fond of stonework, and the house blended seamlessly into the mountain. Positioned as it was, the views from the deck would be breathtaking, but only one view captured his mind.
Caroline Harrison.
Even after all this time, he couldn’t look at her without seeing his long-lost best friend. If only he could erase that night. That one conversation. That one kiss that had ruined everything. If he’d kept his mouth shut...
No. It had been the right decision then. Still was. Still hurt.
He stepped from the car and made his way through the throng of first responders, most of whom he knew were off duty. He couldn’t fault them. Armed intruders weren’t part of the daily grind in Etowah, North Carolina.
He stepped into the glow shining from floodlights, and she looked into his eyes.
“Jason.”
It was the first time she’d willingly spoken to him in thirteen years, and in her voice he heard a whisper of hope. Not hope for the future they could never have. But maybe hope for the forgiveness he did not deserve.
She offered him a wavering smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”
An olive branch? “Me, too.” He stared into her eyes a few moments longer than he should have. So many things needed to be said, but they would have to wait. Michael and a young officer were headed their way.
“Heard