something was wrong. Very wrong. She should thank Buck Cambridge for bringing Meral—a wedding gift, he’d said. He’d found Meral’s long-lost sister. But Jewel wasn’t sure she really wanted to be found.
Something about Buck disturbed her. He didn’t look at Meral the way Jewel’s husband had looked at her when they’d fallen in love.
But who was Jewel to judge? How could she bring up her misgivings about Buck with Meral, a sister she barely knew? They were only just reconnecting. Getting to know each other again. It wasn’t her place. She wouldn’t do anything to destroy this chance at having her family again. If Jewel questioned her sister about Buck, then she would sound just like their parents had sounded when Jewel had fallen in love.
Those memories came rushing back, crushing the breath from her.
Jewel shoved from the bed. She wouldn’t do that to Meral. She’d give her sister—a grown woman in her thirties, an experienced woman who had already been married before—the benefit of a doubt.
Jewel would let Chief Winters investigate and see what came of it without mentioning her suspicions about Buck.
She could trust Colin Winters. He was a good man and a good chief of police and had served Mountain Cove well. Maybe there were some in town who blamed him for the rise in the crime rate in recent years, accusing him of not being hard enough on suspects and criminals. Then others blamed him and his officers for using too much force. So much pressure from the community pushing him in different directions had to be brutal on him.
Jewel had never blamed him. People wanted to remove God from the equation of life and expect law and order to reign in His place. Without God ruling people’s lives, there was only chaos.
The words snagged at her heart, bringing to mind her own shortcomings. Her own hidden secret. She needed to check on it—see if it was still safe. Jewel peeked out the door into the hallway. All clear.
Jewel’s bedroom was on the second floor. She tiptoed up another flight of stairs. Though unintelligible, Meral’s voice could be heard, along with Katy Warren’s, drifting up from the kitchen.
Katy was here? The grandmother and matriarch of the Warren clan was a dear friend, and Jewel wanted to go down and greet her, but now that she had a moment alone—something she might not get for a while—she needed to take a good long look at her past.
The one she’d buried, tucked away forever, safe and sound.
Creeping to the end of the hallway, she gently pulled down the stepladder to the attic. She climbed up into the hot and stuffy room. She flicked on a light to add to the sunlight spilling through a dirty dormer window at the far end.
A raccoon had tried to nest up here, and Jewel had come up to chase it away on more than one occasion, but other than that, she hadn’t been up here for months.
Dust motes and cobwebs had taken over the space. Jewel brushed away the webs as she moved. When Silas had bought the B and B, he had believed it would keep her occupied so she wouldn’t worry about him traveling to fight wildfires. They’d hoped to turn the attic into an office or another room for a guest. Instead, it ended up serving as storage for old furniture and collectibles that Jewel planned to use to refresh the B and B decor, switching things out for seasons or special occasions.
And when he’d been away, she’d stored her more valuable collectible—if you could call it that—not just in the house but with the house.
If the house burned to the ground, her valuable would survive.
Jewel headed for the far corner, dreading what she was about to do. Acid churned in her stomach.
She moved a trunk, feeling an ache through her back and across her legs and arms. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She might accidentally tear the stitches and open up that nasty gash.
Plus, moving the trunk had made too much noise. She had to be quiet, or Katy and Meral would hear her movements.
Creak.
She froze. Her pulse jumped.
The sound had come from the attic. The rafters settling beneath the simple plywood flooring? Or something—someone—else?
At the falls she’d heard the snap of a twig right behind her. Shuddering, she slowly turned to look. See if someone was there, fearing what would happen if they were. She couldn’t see the steps down into the hallway for the boxes and furniture stacked in her way.
Ever since Tracy’s attacker had stayed in the B and B, Jewel had known she needed more protection than the rifles stored in a gun closet or a 9-millimeter semiautomatic pistol tucked away in her nightstand. She had needed to train in self-defense in case a day ever came when she would have to protect herself without the use of a firearm.
Granted, none of that had come in handy at the falls, except maybe to give her confidence to swim her way to freedom. Would she find herself using that training now? When she heard nothing more, she looked at the wall where the item was hidden behind a plank and reconsidered. Maybe she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to revisit the past.
But there was only one reason Jewel could imagine someone would want her dead. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, but as the walls of the attic closed in around her, she had to face the truth.
Another creak had her stiffening. Preparing for the worst.
“Who’s there?”
How could anyone have come up here with her? She would have heard them, right? “Meral, is that you?”
Her knees shook. She was far weaker than she wanted to be. Too weak to deal with her secret right now. Jewel would come back another day. Maybe when Chief Winters returned from his look at the falls she would tell him everything.
Except he would be disappointed in her, and she didn’t think she could bear that. She made her way through the maze of junk, heading for the steps out of the attic.
The sense of a presence and the rush of wind were all the warning she received. Someone grabbed her from behind, wrapping an arm around her neck.
There was no doubt as to his intention—to choke her to death.
Her pulse skyrocketed. Heart pounded.
But Chief Winters’s words penetrated the fear that gripped her mind and body.
First, don’t panic. Take slow, deep breaths to relax. Then assess what is happening. But do it quickly. A quick reaction can save you.
Breathe. She had to breathe. Hard to do. When. He’s. Choking. Me.
Second, grab his arms. Drop your weight.
She let herself drop, but his grip didn’t waver.
Stomp on his foot.
Jewel jabbed her heel into his foot. Then she tried to move. That was the whole point. Move and slam her fist into his groin. But he kept her pinned tightly.
She couldn’t budge. Her stomp made no noticeable difference. Again. She tried again.
Next she raised her arm, preparing to turn into her attacker and strike him with her elbow. She’d practiced this and had been successful in class demonstrations. But her attacker seemed to expect her every move and squeezed her tighter, holding her in a vice.
Breathe.
She couldn’t breathe.
Darkness edged her vision. Bright pinpoints of light sparked across her eyes.
She struggled and twisted. Had to try something else.
If you can’t get away, try to head butt. Grab his ears, nose, anything to gain an escape.
Jewel threw her head forward and then back against her attacker’s face. His grip loosened enough for Jewel to break free. She pushed forward and away. Took off running as she gasped for oxygen. No time to stop or even scream.
Had