Trained To Defend. Christy Barritt

      “Of course.”

      Colton flipped on the morning news. Breaking news aired over the station.

      All the blood drained from Colton’s face when Sarah’s picture appeared on the screen. The headline proclaimed that Sarah Peterson, twenty-seven, was wanted for the murder of famed medical researcher Loretta Blanchard. The news anchor continued, saying that there was now a manhunt to find Sarah and warning viewers that she could be dangerous.

      Sarah exchanged a look with Colton.

      This was much, much worse than he’d imagined it would be.

      Because not only was a killer potentially looking for Sarah, but so were the police.

      “The police think I killed Loretta,” Sarah murmured, her head spinning. “Why would they think that? I would never hurt anyone.”

      “Someone could have seen you run from the scene,” Colton told her. “It would be a natural assumption.”

      She put her fork down, her thoughts clashing inside her until her head pounded. “You’re right. Of course I look guilty. I was the last person seen with her. Her blood was on my sweater.”

      Colton squeezed her arm. “Don’t panic yet. We could talk to the police, explain what happened—”

      “I told you, no police. I can’t risk it.” Especially now that Sarah knew they thought she was guilty.

      “The police aren’t your enemy, Sarah.” Colton’s voice was quiet and calm—but also full of conviction.

      “I didn’t say they were. But Loretta had reasons for everything. There was a reason she said that. She…she was one of the smartest women I’ve ever met.”

      Colton frowned, looking as if he was trying to find the right words. “Not coming forward will only make you look more guilty.”

      Sarah shrugged, knowing his words were true but unable to verbally agree with him. “I just don’t know what to say or do.”

      Colton opened his mouth, like he was about to say more. Before he could, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and frowned again before answering.

      Sarah tried to interpret the one-sided conversation but couldn’t. She only knew something was wrong. Colton’s voice sounded stiff, and he glanced at the window.

      He ended the call and stood. “You and Buzz need to go to the back bedroom. Now. Lock the doors, and don’t come out until I tell you.”

      Alarm raced through her. “Why? What’s going on?”

      “My neighbor saw someone coming up the lane toward the house.” Colton walked toward the window.

      “And that’s strange?”

      Colton looked back, locking gazes with her. “There are only two places they could be going—his house or mine, and neither of us are expecting anyone.”

      Sarah’s heart rate surged. It was the killer, wasn’t it? Or the police. Either way, her future looked bleak enough that nausea rose in her so quickly that she grasped her stomach.

      “You need to go. Now.” Colton pulled out the gun from his waistband, his jaw set with steely determination.

      Sarah didn’t argue. She scrambled away, hardly able to breathe.

      But as she locked the door, Buzz beside her, she pressed her ear there, trying to hear what was going on.

      It was silent as Colton waited, seeming to prepare himself for battle.

      “Buzz, what’s going on?” She reached down and wrapped her arms around the dog, relishing his soft fur.

      The dog let out a whine and licked her cheek. Buzz knew something was wrong also.

      Sarah waited, praying for safety and favor. But the moments felt like hours.

      Flashbacks from earlier hit her, each one making her flinch. Images of seeing that man in Loretta’s room. Watching as Loretta took her last breath.

      Sarah remembered running. Fearing the man was following her. Fearing what he would do if he caught Sarah too.

      Now Colton was in danger.

      She stood and pressed herself into the wall, resisting the urge to look out the window and see what was going on.

      She didn’t have to.

      She heard tires crunching on gravel in the distance.

      Someone was here.

      Sarah braced herself for whatever would happen next.

      Colton rushed to the window, reaching for the gun at his waistband. Who would be coming here at this time of the day?

      No one—unless it was an emergency or unless it was trouble.

      His breath caught when no vehicles emerged at the end of the lane.

      Someone had started this way and stopped.

      Colton’s instincts were finely tuned from years of law enforcement—finely tuned enough not to believe in coincidences, especially given the circumstances right now.

      No. Someone had scoped out this place. Seen his cabin. And then returned.

      That person was most likely the one who’d sent Sarah that threatening text.

      He wanted whatever it was he thought Sarah had.

      Colton couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

      Without thinking about it anymore, Colton stepped outside. He glanced around, listening for any signs of trouble.

      He heard nothing.

      Cautiously, he walked down his road, his gun still in hand.

      He was never one to cower away from trouble, and he wasn’t going to start now.

      With every step, Colton listened for any clues that someone was near. Stalking. Waiting.

      He anticipated hearing footsteps. Twigs cracking.

      All was silent except for the occasional rustle of wind or the crackle of icy snow beneath his boots.

      He still didn’t let down his guard. If this criminal was in any way trained, he would know to disguise his presence. And based on everything Sarah had told him, this man very well could be someone who hadn’t killed in the heat of the moment but in premeditated murder. The thought wasn’t comforting.

      As Colton turned the corner, he spotted a dark sedan tucked away at the end of the lane.

      He froze. His heart pounded in his ears as anticipation built inside him. What was the driver doing?

      The car didn’t move, and the windows were too tinted to see inside. The driver could be there…or he could have slipped out.

      Colton’s gaze traveled to the front of the car, but the license plate was concealed by the brush.

      Quickly, he scanned the woods.

      Was the driver waiting behind one of these trees, watching Colton’s every move?

      Colton heard nothing around him.

      Cautiously, he took another step.

      He wasn’t leaving here until he knew who was inside that car or until he at least got a license plate.

      With every step, he listened, keenly aware of everything around him.

      Suddenly, the car’s engine revved.

      A moment later, the car charged toward him.