LITMIR.BIZ

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that was beside the point. Riley Jasper’s comment, genius notwithstanding, was ignorant. The four dead residents had not been that old, and all had passed swiftly, without warning.

      Even the Harmony staff agreed that four deaths in such a short period was unusual in the forty-eight-bed community—though not unheard of. But Triss had to admit that her suspicions were a little far-fetched. Could someone in the home really be set on murder? Or was it simply a difficult season of loss?

      Whatever the cause, and regardless of the skepticism of her new friends, Triss figured that tightening security at Harmony wouldn’t hurt anyone. She’d worked as a security agent for Shield Protection Services for a little over two years, and the four deaths at Harmony had not only piqued her suspicions but had also alerted her to the lax security around the community. Two days ago, she’d proposed some simple ideas to boost security. No one had taken her seriously, but Triss was never one to go down without a fight, and—

      A loud pop sounded behind her and she jolted, glancing in the rearview. Had a rock hit her rear window? She didn’t see a crack, thankfully. The car had already been in the shop a few times this year, and Triss didn’t have extra cash for more repairs. Not seeing anything, she started to return to her thoughts when she picked up an acrid, burning scent.

      Again, she checked the rearview. This time, her heart lurched. Smoke! A thick, black cloud plumed from the rear of her vehicle.

      She didn’t think, just reacted, checking her mirrors as she swerved toward the shoulder. Smoke billowed above her gas tank in black waves. She didn’t have much time. A driver laid on his horn as Triss nearly plowed into the side of his truck and swerved again, overcompensating with the wheel. Her tires spun, the car flying across the highway and out of her control as she pumped the brakes and tried to get it under control. Tires screeched and horns blared as her Mustang skidded sideways into a speed-limit sign, the impact sending her car into a spin, and then she was sliding over the shoulder and into a shallow embankment.

      In a daze, Triss reached for her seat belt, her hands shaking as she jerked it off and grabbed the door handle. The door wouldn’t budge! She jabbed at her window control, but it didn’t respond. Smoke started to fill the car, burning her throat and lungs as she looked in terror at a bright orange flame too close to the gas tank. Desperate, she yanked at the handle again, a painful cough taking hold and stealing her strength even as she frantically scanned her car for something she could use to break a window. She wished she’d brought her gun, but she never carried it off duty.

      Dread grew as thick as the smoke inside the car. Her breathing was labored and punctuated by coughs, and her hazy mind drifted back to the cemetery she’d just come from, the red and gold leaves flitting to the ground. Searching through her console, she fought rising panic as the car grew hotter, the smoke thickening. Desperate, she yanked at the door again, knowing it was futile. Cars pulled over ahead, shadowy figures running toward her, but the smoke was thick, stealing her air, and she was sure they were too late.

      * * *

      Hunter Knox threw his truck into Park and ran to the back, rummaging through his supplies for his window breaker, and then sprinted to Triss’s Mustang. A crowd had gathered, a couple of people using various tools to try to break open windows, while others warned the crowd to stand back. A small flame was licking up the back of the car, an explosion imminent. Black smoke filled the interior.

      “Move aside!” Hunter yelled, forcing his way through the crowd to the front of the car. Deciding his best option was the front windshield, he climbed up on the hood and kneeled as he locked eyes with Triss. The fear there pierced his heart as smoke swirled behind her. He’d known Triss for two years and had never seen her scared. “Cover your face!” he yelled, and placed the tool in the center of the passenger side of the windshield. The glass cracked immediately, and he pushed the rest of it in, others joining in to clear the shards as Triss attempted to pull herself up and out of the car.

      She was weak, gasping for air. Hunter reached down, clearing the glass. “Try to stand!” He wanted to scream for her to hurry, to focus. He was afraid he’d lose her to an explosion at the last moment, but she was dazed, attempting to find her footing on the seat to push her way out.

      Leaning close, Hunter held out his arms to her. “Hold on to me!”

      She reached toward him, her hands locking on his upper arms as he latched onto her and yanked her over the dash and through the broken window. Others, eager to help, brought her to the ground as Hunter jumped off the hood. Easily lifting her into his arms, he again warned the crowd to retreat and jogged away from the burning vehicle.

      Triss’s hand clutched the front of his shirt, her head tucked under his chin as he moved toward his truck. He’d only taken a few dozen steps when an explosion erupted behind them. Triss jerked in his arms, and he tightened his hold, glancing back to see her car in flames, bystanders gawking and filming.

      A shudder ran through him as he considered what would have happened if he had simply finished up his shift and gone home today. Shaken, he walked to the passenger side of his truck and shifted Triss so he could open the door.

      “You can put me down,” she said, the words whispered at the base of his neck, her voice raspy. “I can stand.”

      He was surprised she hadn’t wriggled out of his arms already. She was the most fiercely independent person he’d ever met. But he suspected that if he set her on her feet right now, she’d collapse.

      “I’ve got you.”

      She didn’t argue, her fingers still grasping his shirt, her silky black hair grazing his chin. He pulled the door open, easily seating her inside and adjusting the seat so she could lean back. She’d started shivering, whether from shock or the chill in the air, he couldn’t be sure. But the truck was still running, and he leaned over to turn the heat on full-blast. He yanked off his jacket and tucked it gently under her chin and around her arms and sides.

      She stared up at him, eyes so dark he could barely make out her pupils, long lashes shielding her thoughts. They’d been coworkers for a long time, and he was used to her quiet, but this was different.

      “Are you hurt anywhere?”

      She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

      “Good. Just hang tight for a couple of minutes.” He pressed her door shut and reached for his phone to call for help, but he could already hear sirens. Plenty of others had likely already called in the accident.

      Assuming it had been an accident.

      He eyed her flaming car as he moved to the driver’s side of his truck. He didn’t know a lot about cars, but he was pretty sure it was rare for a vehicle to start smoking near the gas tank and then explode. As far as he knew, fires usually started under the hood.

      He frowned, sliding into his seat and closing his door. Or maybe he’d been working at Shield too long. Nearly five years in, he had to admit he was prone to suspicion. It wasn’t like she’d been driving a brand-new vehicle. The Mustang had to be at least ten years old. There must have been a problem with it because the alternative was that someone had caused the fire, and that didn’t seem likely. Who would want to harm Triss? What motive could someone have?

      Not that he and Triss spent much time talking about her personal life. In fact, he’d barely seen her since she’d moved into Harmony nearly four months ago. She’d cut her hours at Shield and switched to the night shift three days a week, so they only worked together on the rare occasion one of them took on a double. She’d explained that the free room and board would help her finish her graduate degree faster, which he respected. She had her sights on a career as a forensic investigator with the FBI, and he had no doubt she’d be one of the best in the field. But he suspected she’d had other motives for cutting her hours at Shield—motives that included avoiding Hunter and his two kids. He couldn’t blame her for that, even if he wished things could be different. She had big goals, and an instant family would only slow her down.

      Next to him, she had tugged his jacket closer and closed her eyes.

      Something

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