Laura Scott - Primary Suspect

When he returned to the garage a good fifteen minutes later, he found that Dana had already parked inside and was standing next to her vehicle, resting one hand on her purse, as she tapped her foot impatiently on the cement.

“Everything is clear,” he said. “Thanks for giving me time to check it out. Makes me feel better to know you’re safe.”

She straightened and nodded. “Okay, but how are you going to get back to your car?”

“I’ll walk, it’s not that far, just a couple of miles. It will give me time to think.” He wanted to take her hand in his, but forced himself to stay back. Touching her had upset her before; he didn’t want to make the same mistake again. “Thanks again for all your help.” He turned to walk down the driveway.

“Mitch, wait.” Dana’s voice stopped him and he glanced at her over her shoulder. “I’ll drive you to the hospital. No reason for you to walk.”

“No need, I’d rather you stay home, where it’s safe.” He wondered where in the world Mike was. Glancing down at his phone, he didn’t see a response via text. Sometimes when Mike was on a stakeout, he turned off the volume on his phone, but he should have seen Mitch’s attempt to call by now.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Dana said, her voice sharp with temper. Maybe she hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep, either. “I’m not in danger, you are. Yet you want to stroll down the street in the daylight for anyone to see you? Maybe you sustained a head injury because that’s the only excuse I can see for your lack of reason.”

“Having you stay here safe and sound is perfectly reasonable,” he countered.

Come on, Mike, where are you?

When Dana moved to get back into her car, he came rushing back up the driveway. “Okay, how about this? You go inside and I’ll hang around in the garage for a little bit. I’ll call my brother for a ride.”

She paused, nodded, then slammed the driver’s-side door shut. “Okay. I guess that will work.”

“Great. I promise I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

For the first time that morning the corner of her mouth tipped up in the barest hint of a smile. “Yeah, why do I find that so hard to believe?”

Dana was so beautiful, especially when she smiled. Yet he sensed she hadn’t been very happy over the past few years. Why had it been so hard for her to move past Kent’s death? Losing a spouse was horrible, but three years also seemed like a long time.

He tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, more to keep himself from reaching for her than anything else.

“Thanks again,” he said as she walked into the house.

“You’re welcome, again,” she said before letting the door close behind her.

He pulled out his phone and checked for a response from Mike.

Nothing.

He stared at the quiet suburban street. Dana’s house was on Cardinal Avenue, and the lots were spacious, easily a half acre or more, providing a nice cushion of space between neighbors. Where was everyone? It was almost eight o’clock in the morning. Either these people had already headed off to work or they were enjoying a leisurely Thursday, sitting indoors. But where were the kids? It was summer, shouldn’t they already be outside playing?

The quiet stillness of the neighborhood was a bit eerie. A little too Stepford-like for his taste. It made him wonder why on earth Dana continued to live here in the house she’d shared with Kent.

Whoa, why did he care? Dana Petrie’s personal life wasn’t his business. His only responsibility was to keep her safe from harm.

He looked at his phone again. Maybe it was time to call Miles. His other brother should be up by now, and he could really use Miles’s advice on how to handle Janice’s murder.

Especially as he had been set up to be the primary suspect. Sure, he had gotten out of there before the police arrived, but thanks to the beam hitting him, he’d left his blood behind at the crime scene.

Possibly fingerprints, too, from when he’d gone over to check on Janice. It was only a matter of time before the cops came looking for him.

The image of his former girlfriend lying in the rubble was burned into his memory. Even though their relationship had ended badly, he’d never wished her any harm. Certainly nothing like a bullet to the chest.

One thing he had learned from Miles was that when a woman was found murdered, the initial suspect was always her boyfriend, fiancé or husband. He wondered if she had still been seeing Simon Wylan, and if so, where he’d been last night. If Simon had killed Janice in a fit of anger, it wasn’t a stretch to figure the best way to push the blame somewhere else was to implicate the former boyfriend.

It was even possible that Simon could have found some excuse to get inside the fire chief’s office. Yep, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense that somehow Wylan was the mastermind behind this.

If only he’d gotten a better look at the guy during the scuffle in the ER. But with the mask hiding the guy’s face and the fog in his brain from being hit on the head, he hadn’t gotten a clear view. There had been something familiar, though, so maybe it had been Simon after all.

His phone rang, jarring him from his thoughts. Mike, finally. He pushed the button and brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, I need a lift.”

“I’m on my way. I just got your message. What’s going on?” Mike demanded.

Mitch winced. “Long story. I’ll work with Miles to get my name cleared, but I also need you to help me keep an eye on Dana Petrie, an ER nurse who helped me escape. I’m worried the guy who attacked me will come after her.”

“I should be there in five to ten minutes tops,” Mike assured him. “And you probably won’t be able to get in touch with Miles—he’s been up all night working the murder scene at the burned warehouse.”

Mitch closed his eyes against a wave of frustration. That wasn’t good news. There was no way he could put his brother in a position of sheltering a suspect.

He needed a plan B. “Okay, I’ll figure something out later. But I still need a ride. And someone to watch over Dana.”

“See you soon,” Mike said.

Mitch counted minutes in his head as he stared out at the road. He straightened when he noticed a large black truck with tinted windows rolling slowly down the street. It stopped at the intersection and then made the right turn onto Cardinal. The tiny hairs on the back of his neck rose in alarm and he quickly hit the button to close the garage door.

The door slowly cranked down. Not good enough. He barreled into the house, startling Dana badly enough that she dropped a plate heaping with scrambled eggs, too many for one person.

In a tiny corner of his mind, he was touched she’d cooked for him, but there wasn’t any time to savor the moment. “We gotta go. Out the back, now!”

“What?”

“Hurry!” He nudged her toward the patio doors, but she resisted, grabbing her purse before going along with him. He unlocked and opened the door that lead into the backyard. He heard the sound of the truck engine abruptly stopping.

“Run!” He pushed her ahead of him so that he could protect her from behind. She had changed clothes and wore a green blouse and faded blue jeans. She took off running through the backyard, her purse bouncing against her shoulder as she dodged between a pair of large trees. He liked the way she was finding cover and followed close on her heels.

Dana zigged right, and he felt something whizz past him. It took a minute for him to see the dart lodged in the side of Dana’s purse.

What in the world was going on? Why was the guy in the black truck shooting at them with a tranquilizer gun? Mitch didn’t like how he’d gotten so close to hitting Dana. He plucked the dart from her bag and slid it into his back pocket. Then he latched onto her arm, making sure to follow her more closely, urging her to continue taking twists and turns.