Sweet Spot. Susan Mallery

took the narrow steps two at a time, knocking the teddy bears decorating the stairs out of her way as she ran.

      The doorbell’s chime echoed through her little bungalow.

      She stopped dead at the sound. Her breath caught in her throat. Was it Dixie? The police?

      She raced back down the stairs to the front door. She peered through the peephole. Her heart stuttered then seized. Clutching her robe closed with one hand, she unlocked the dead bolt and yanked the door open.

      Trent scrutinized her from the darkness, his face all sharp angles and hard planes in the yellow glare of the porch light.

      Risa’s heart started again, pumping hard enough to break a rib. She hadn’t seen him in two years, two long years, and she’d never dreamed she would be glad to see him again.

      But she was.

      His steel-gray gaze skimmed her face. His glower deepened. “You know, don’t you?”

      A fresh surge of panic swelled up inside her. There was no time to lose. “I heard it on the news. We have to reach Dixie.”

      “Damn. I didn’t want you to find out that way.”

      She shook her head with frustration. The way she’d found out wasn’t important. “We have to reach Dixie before Kane does. He’ll kill her. I know he will. We have to hurry. She didn’t answer her phone.”

      Trent paused. His gaze drilled into her.

      Cold dread penetrated her bones. He knew something. Something she hadn’t seen on the news. Something horrible. She opened her mouth, but her voice wouldn’t work.

      Trent reached out and grasped her arm as if preparing her for the blow. “Dixie’s with him,” he said. “We think she helped him escape.”

      Risa’s head whirled. Oh God, Kane already had Dixie. He’d duped her into helping him escape, and now he had her. Until death do us part. Risa’s knees wobbled and she felt herself sinking.

      Trent pushed his way into her house. Leading her to the antique bench in the foyer, he shoved teddy bears aside and deposited her on it.

      Her mind stuttered. She shook her head and struggled against the pressure of his hand, the certainty of his pronouncement. No. It couldn’t be true. If Kane had Dixie, she was as good as dead. “Dixie can’t be dead. She can’t be. She just—”

      “Rees.” His sharp baritone cut through her denials. He leaned over her, his face close to hers. “We don’t know that she’s dead. I don’t think she is.”

      Her heart leaped at the hope in his words. Trent knew Kane better than anyone. That was why the FBI had sent him here. To find Kane. To save Dixie. “Then we have to find her. Now.” She struggled to stand.

      Trent’s grip tightened, keeping her planted on the bench. “We will find her. But first I need you to get dressed. A police officer from Grantsville is on his way to pick you up. You need to go with him to the police station and answer some questions.”

      “Grantsville?” Risa recognized the name of the small town a stone’s throw from the prison, but for the life of her, she didn’t see how going to the tiny Grantsville police station was going to do any good. “I don’t have time. We have to find Dixie. We’re running out of—”

      “Rees. Look at me.”

      She forced her eyes to focus on his face. A face full of strength and confidence and purpose. A face that, until a few minutes ago, she had never wanted to set eyes on again.

      His gaze pierced her confusion like a well-honed blade. “I will find Kane, Rees. I did it before, and I’ll do it now. I’ll do everything in my power to bring Dixie out of this alive. I promise you that.”

      Trent’s promises. She closed her eyes, blocking the sight of him. His riveting eyes. His hard, determined chin. God knows, he had broken promises to her in the past. But those were personal promises. Promises of marriage. Promises of a family. This one had to do with his work. This one was life and death. He would keep this one. He always kept his professional promises.

      She opened her eyes and drew in a deep breath. “What will you do?”

      “After the officer gets here, I’ll head to the prison. I want to go through Kane’s personal things, anything he left behind. Anything that will give me an idea of where he’s going and what he’s planning. Afterward I’ll meet you at the police station. The task force will be assembling there.”

      “I’m going with you to the prison.”

      Familiar shadows crept into the gray of his eyes. He straightened and turned away, as if to prevent her from seeing too much.

      “I can help, Trent. I have insights into Kane that might be useful.”

      He shook his head. The prismatic light from the fixture overhead played on silver threads sprinkled through his hair, making them sparkle like stars in a black night. “Go with the officer. Answer his questions. That’s how you can help. There’s no reason for you to go to the prison.”

      She tightened her mouth into a determined line. “The police will be at the prison too, right? I can answer questions there. I need to go.”

      He paced the length of the tiny foyer before he spun back to face her. His expression was guarded, his jaw clamped shut like an oyster with an entire pearl necklace to protect.

      Old anger kindled inside her. She’d seen this look countless times before. Back when they were engaged to be married. Back when he’d withdrawn. Back when he’d shut her out of his life.

      She shoved her resentment aside and concentrated on keeping her voice calm, her argument reasonable. “I’ve been heading up a study on criminal psychology. I’ve been to the prison dozens of times in the last year interviewing Kane and others. I have insights into—”

      “I can’t invite you into the middle of a manhunt for a serial killer. Even if your sister is with him. It’s out of the question.”

      Frustration pulsed at the back of her eyes, rapidly turning into a throbbing headache. They didn’t have time to argue about this. Dixie’s time was running out. Risa lurched to her feet. Her robe flared open, revealing her boxy flannel nightshirt, but she didn’t care. “Damn it, Trent. You’ve used victims’ family members to help in other cases. I know you have.”

      “Not this time. Let the authorities take care of it. Let us do our jobs.” His voice was hard, final. But something soft hovered in his eyes. Something familiar. Protectiveness.

      She balled her hands into fists. She wanted to pound them against his chest. She wanted to grab the lapels of his suit and shake him. She wanted to scream until she had no breath left in her body. Instead, she gritted her teeth, remembering his words the night he’d broken their engagement. The night he’d shredded her dreams.

      Insight stabbed into her, sharp as a well-honed blade. She shook her head. “Unbelievable. You still think you’re protecting me from the ugliness of the world, don’t you?”

      His back stiffened. Regret flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t argue with her. He never had. From the night he’d told her he couldn’t go ahead with their vows, he’d taken all the anger she’d thrown at him as if it were his penance for the pain he’d caused her. A punishment he knew he deserved.

      But accepting punishment was beside the point. She didn’t want to punish him. She wanted him to understand. “I don’t need your protection. I’ve already met Kane. I’ve talked to him, interviewed him. And Dixie found my work so fascinating, she married the man, for crying out loud. I’m neck deep in the ugliness. I’m probably as tainted as you believe you are.”

      A muscle worked along his jaw. “You might think you are, but you’re not. Not yet. And I won’t be responsible for your getting in any deeper. I’m not taking you with me.”

      She bit back the caustic reply she wanted