LITMIR.BIZ

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him—hadn’t come between them. Ryan wanted to see for himself that she was all right. He wanted to hold her in his arms and feel her warm body against him and know deep in his soul that she was truly okay.

      That was how he found himself rushing down the hallway toward her room—whoa there, boy—when what he really needed to do was slow his steps way down. That would give him time to decelerate his too-rapidly-beating heart and get a grip! Ryan had to find a way to redirect his mind away from his spiraling emotions that threatened to overtake him.

      And most of all, he needed to focus on the facts. He didn’t even know why she wanted to speak with him. Had she asked for him as a detective, or was this much more personal? Ryan should hope for the former, but his heart wished for the latter.

      Traitorous heart.

      He knew Tori was in town because of her sister’s murder. Tori had attended the funeral last week, and she had obviously remained in town, perhaps to help her parents go through Sarah’s things, or maybe just to comfort her parents.

      Those were probably the excuses she told her family. But honestly, he could guess the real reason why she remained. He ground his molars and fisted his hands as aggravation churned in his gut. He’d figured it was just a matter of time before she sought him out—after all, he was the major crimes detective investigating the multiple homicides that had occurred two weeks ago and that had unfortunately involved her sister. He still couldn’t believe it himself.

      Tori’s sister. Sweet Sarah Peterson. Gone forever.

      Still, it was strange that Tori had asked for him after being pulled from the river. He was grateful she’d survived the falls, but he wanted answers about what was going on.

      Spotting a vending machine—his salvation—Ryan stopped to grab coffee. He should join Procrastinators Anonymous, or was it United? After inserting and reinserting the cash into the slot until it finally pleased the machine, he pressed the appropriate buttons.

      Coffee. Give me coffee, black and strong, he mentally demanded as the vending machine took its sweet time, for which he should be grateful. He needed a few more minutes to compose himself and appear like the disinterested, detached and impartial detective he strove to be.

      His efforts were failing because he was definitely anything but detached and impartial. He couldn’t believe how the mere thought of seeing Tori again affected him, especially knowing that she’d come so close to death. What was the matter with him? He let his thoughts sift through the last couple of weeks and focus on Tori and her family—their needs. Not his personal issues that had no bearing in the present.

      Tori had lost her sister. She had to be a wreck. Ryan had been the one to give her parents the news, and it had been all he could do to keep his composure. Those were the moments when he hated this job.

      A warm cup of coffee finally in hand, he downed the contents, then steeled himself. Enough procrastinating. He walked the rest of the way to room 225 and pressed his fingers against the partially open door. Voices drifted out. Tori’s mother sounded upset. He leaned against the wall, deciding he’d give them a few moments. He popped in a piece of gum and skimmed his emails on his cell, except his mind was far from his cell phone.

      Tori Peterson.

      Once upon a time in the past, he’d thought he and Tori were on the same path. The same life track. He’d let his heart hope for something long-term between them. Then, when a door opened offering her the job of her dreams, she’d chosen that over him. Good for her. Bad for him. At the time, he’d been furious and hurt, and they hadn’t parted on good terms.

      Four years had changed his perspective. Now, he didn’t blame her or hold anything against her. Instead, he saw it as a cautionary lesson not to set his heart on anyone. Time could heal all wounds, the saying went, and with time and experience, he’d learned his limits.

      Ryan couldn’t take that kind of heartache ever again.

      The voices in the room died down and the room went quiet. Time for him to make his presence known. He knocked lightly on the door as he said, “Detective Bradley. Is it all right for me to come in?”

      The door swung open to reveal Sheryl Peterson. She blinked up at him, relief in her face. “Come in, Ryan. I mean...Detective.”

      She eyed him as if to ask if it was okay that she called him by his first name. He smiled and gave a slight nod as he entered the room. He had known the Petersons for years—there was no need for formality with them.

      Sheryl caught his arm, preventing him from going farther. She leaned in and spoke in a low tone. “I’m so glad you’re here. She’s not ready to listen. The doctor wanted to keep her another day. But she’s planning to leave anyway. Can you talk some sense into her?”

      Tori stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed. Next to the bed, she swayed a bit. Ryan rushed forward and caught her. He assisted her to the bed, where she should have stayed.

      “I heard you lost a lot of blood during your fight with a waterfall,” he said, his voice coming out gentle and caring. Not exactly what he’d been going for. He’d wanted to make it clear to her—to both of them—that he’d finally left their relationship in the past.

      She lifted her gaze as if just now realizing he was there, that he’d been the one to assist her to the hospital bed. “Ryan. What...what are you doing here?”

      Really? He’d been told that she’d asked for him. Maybe someone had made a mistake.

      “I need to run an errand.” Sheryl pursed her lips, still upset with her daughter. “I’ll be right back. Ryan, please keep her in this room until I get back, okay?”

      He nodded, but he couldn’t promise anything. Sheryl disappeared and left Ryan and Tori alone in the room. It shouldn’t feel awkward but it did.

      “What were you thinking, taking that waterfall?” he asked. “Kayaking alone and going over the falls?”

      Was she so devastated from the news of her sister’s death that she had a death wish of her own? No. The Tori he’d known before would never take her own life—no matter what.

      He fisted his hands, controlling the fury over her choices and fear for her safety that he had no right to feel. Swallowed the lump in his throat at the thought of what could have happened.

      He was over her. Had been for a long time. But apparently the emotional equivalent of muscle memory hadn’t gone away. When she was putting herself in danger, it was his instinct to worry.

      Dumb instincts.

      And he was done playing games or wasting time. “Why did you ask to see me, Tori?”

      But he had a feeling he knew exactly why. Tori was here to find the person behind four murders, behind Sarah’s murder, and as lead detective on this investigation, Ryan was about to get swept up in Tori’s fast-moving current.

       TWO

      Ryan Bradley. Detective Ryan Bradley is in my room...

      Blood rushed to her head.

      Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, Tori squeezed her eyes shut and breathed steadily. She had to regain her composure and stop her head from spinning. Enduring the guy’s pensive gaze hadn’t been in her plans for the day. She’d asked to see him? She didn’t remember that part.

      Tori focused on what had happened, mentally replaying images from her fight to survive the crushing falls. The helplessness as she tumbled through the air while water enveloped her. That suffocating, painful, drowning feeling of trying to catch enough air to live while unable to stop the force that could dash her against the rocks. All of it thrashed around in her thoughts even now.

      Goose bumps rose on her arms.

      Then she remembered... One of her last

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