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  Tom’s phone beeped. “Search warrant’s here for the salvage yard and the surrounding area. We got lucky with the judge.”

  Riley spun on her heel. “Let’s find her.”

  Tom’s hand gripped Riley’s shoulder. His knowing eyes gazed into hers, and he shook his head. “Hold on. I recognize that look. You’re living off wasabi nuts and coffee and haven’t slept in three days. You’re emotionally involved again. Maybe not like before, but—”

  “It’s how I work. You knew that when you called me last week.” She glanced over at him. “It’s why you contacted me in the first place.”

  And why she’d said yes.

  She could still remember the jolt that had run through her at his words. Unit 6 had been trying their best to save the latest victim of an unknown serial kidnapper, but they were failing. Their only chance was if Riley, the best and brightest of her boss’s analysts, came back.

  “It’s also why I forced you to take a break, Riley. This is a test run, and I need to see you’re in control or I’ll red-flag your file permanently. No matter how uncanny you are at tracking these perps.” He leaned toward her. “I want you to think hard if you want this life, and if you can live with my rules.”

  He strode over to the rest of the team. Riley slammed her hand against the fence. Why had she ever agreed to come here?

  For most people, getting a call from your former boss begging you to return to work would’ve been a dream come true. For Riley it was a two-pronged fork in a road she desperately longed to see as straight and unwavering. Though his request validated all the years she’d spent training as a behavioral analyst, it put a choice in her life she wasn’t sure she wanted.

  What she hadn’t expected was her gut reaction to the call: complete joy. For more reasons than Riley cared to admit. Even to herself.

  All she’d wanted to know—in that gut-deep knowledge that could never be erased—was that she was truly needed.

  It didn’t matter that her emotions still hovered dangerously close to the surface after rescuing her sister from the madman who’d kidnapped her when they were children. It didn’t matter that her relationship with her fiancé was on uncertain ground as they attempted to meld their very different lives into a future together in Singing River.

  She loved the town. She loved her fiancé, Thayne.

  But Sarah needed her.

  Riley rubbed hard at the base of her neck. The moment she’d arrived in DC, pressure had settled in the knot. It hadn’t left since then. The dull throb had worked its way forward on her skull and now pulsed at her forehead, a gnawing, painful, and all-too-familiar ache.

  She wasn’t about to share those facts with her boss. For the dozenth time that day, she wished Thayne were here with her. He understood more than most what lowering herself into the dark recesses of seriously disturbed minds did to Riley. The truth was, more often than not, she lost herself in their delusions.

  Thayne knew just how to help center her, to keep her focused. But the Blackwood family needed him at home.

  Riley had to save Sarah.

  She zipped her fleece-lined jacket and made her way to the main gate of the salvage yard. She stepped back for a broader view, peering north, toward the city, then off to the south.

  Old railroad tracks sliced through the landscape. Her heart stumbled. A slight shiver skirted up her spine.

  Yes. This was the place, all right.

  She looked up at the ten-foot-high fencing.

  “Let’s do this thing.” Tom unholstered his standard-issue Glock and nodded. A local cop snapped through the lock’s chain with a heavy-duty bolt cutter.

  Riley’s throat tightened.

  She tried to shut down the hope quivering beneath her skin, but she couldn’t completely quell the wish that they’d find Sarah and the others alive. Maybe not well, but . . .

  The local law enforcement officers pushed open the huge gates.

  Tom lifted his bullhorn. “Everyone has a list of the victims’ license plates. Find them.”

  Riley thrust her hand through her hair and turned in a full circle. A section of fence caught her gaze. “Over there. Near the fence closest to the train tracks.”

  “He could’ve dumped the cars into the river,” her boss countered.

  “He’s a collector.” Riley picked her way through the mountains of junk. “Did you notice the miniature trains, the baseball cards, the marbles at his home? He needs to be close to his treasures.” She skidded to a halt. “Look at that.”

  Through the fence, a dilapidated train wheelhouse stood with six locomotives positioned, one on each spoke of track.

  “Another collection.” Tom let out a low curse.

  “She’s nearby,” Riley said, frantically searching the pile of cars that had blocked the view. “She has to be.”

  Tom headed to an adjoining stack.

  “Sarah,” Riley called out. “Can you hear me? We’re here to help.”

  She stopped to listen. Voices shouting echoed from all over the yard. Thousands of cars.

  Think, Riley.

  Her mind reverted to Harrison’s apartment, to all his collections, perfectly organized, put away. Each in their own specific cubbyhole along the walls. All except one.

  In the center of the room, on a round coffee table, he’d organized six trains. A work in progress.

  Her gaze snapped to the wheelhouse. In exactly the same pattern.

  “Tom. The trains.”

  Without a thought, Riley rushed out of the salvage yard and veered toward the abandoned roundabout. She climbed onto the first locomotive and pushed up into the cab.

  The stench of death overtook her senses.

  “Oh, Sarah.”

  The back of a blonde’s head showed just above a seat, her body slumped down.

  Riley eased toward her. The body had keeled over to the right side, badly decomposed and still dressed, but not in Sarah’s clothes. Riley perused the antique earrings hanging off the victim’s ears. She recognized them from another case. This wasn’t Sarah.

  With a grunt, she jumped down. “Check the other trains,” she called out to Tom. “They’re here. They’re all here.”

  Her legs pumping, Riley raced to the next train and peered inside. The odor didn’t knock her over this time, and the victim’s hair was dark. Decomposition had set in even longer ago. Dead, and not Sarah.

  The local LEOs streamed toward the trains. Riley hurried to the next locomotive. With a rusted red paint job, this one appeared eerily similar to one of the trains on Harrison’s coffee table.

  She pulled herself into the cab and faced the seat’s back. A head of blonde hair leaned back against the vinyl. Riley’s breath caught. “Sarah? Sarah Ann Conway?”

  No movement. Riley rushed over.

  “Sarah!”

  Chains pinned her against the chair. Her head lolled to one side. Riley touched her cheek. Still warm.

  “Here, she’s here!” Riley shouted through the window. “I need those bolt cutters and an ambulance.”

  Within moments a couple of local LEOs snapped apart the metal rings and carried Sarah outside to the ground. She hadn’t moved.

  Riley plopped to her knees. “Sarah. Can you hear me?” She laid her fingers over the carotid.

  No pulse. Riley yanked open Sarah’s shirt and lined up the heel of her hand at the center of the woman’s chest. Compressions had to be one hundred beats per minute to do any good. She leaned over her body and pressed fast and hard to the beat of “Stayin’ Alive.”

  Time slowed; the world around Riley fell silent. All she could do was battle to bring Sarah back from the dead.

  Pulse after pulse.

  The sound of a siren reverberated through the locomotive.

  Hands gripped her shoulders. “Let them in, Riley.”

  Tom dragged her away, and the paramedics pushed past them.

  Breath after breath. Compression after compression. A shock to the heart. An IV. Another shock.

 
The world spun around. Riley couldn’t look away. A hand cupped her elbow, but she refused to remove her gaze from Sarah’s face.

  Live. Please, Sarah.

  Riley didn’t know how long she stood there, watching, praying.

  Suddenly Sarah sputtered and sucked in a deep breath. Riley’s knees buckled.

  “She’s back,” one of the paramedics shouted. “Let’s move.”

  Riley nearly collapsed to the ground, but Tom held her up. He smiled at her. “Congratulations, Riley. You did it. You saved her.”

  Her mind whirled in disbelief. How long had it been since she’d saved anyone on the job?

  Far too long.

  Minutes later, the ambulance screeched away and the train yard went quiet, except for some muttering from the cops as they cordoned off the area until the forensics team arrived.

  “Nothing more we can do here,” her boss said. “They’ll process the scene. The locals can wrap up the case. That’s our deal with them, but at least the other families will get closure.”

  Riley’s mind had gone blank. The throbbing in her head threatened to turn into a full-blown migraine. She missed her fiancé’s magic hands. He knew just how to beat back the headaches and quell the vibrating thoughts that whirled through her mind.

  Sarah Ann Conway was alive. Alive, alive, alive. Thayne wasn’t here, though.

  “You freaking out on me, Riley?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in several deep breaths. Finally, she looked up into Tom’s worried face. “I can’t believe we actually found her alive.”

  “She wouldn’t have been alive much longer. She owes you her life.” Her boss cocked his head at her. “You held it together better than I thought you would. This may not be the best time, but we could use you full-time in the unit. If you think you can handle it.”

  “You’re the one who said I couldn’t cut it.”

  “Damn it, Riley.” He scowled. “You’ve always been the best behavioral analyst I’ve ever seen, but now that you’ve found your sister in Wyoming, you’ve changed. You’re more restrained. I think it’s time to consider coming back to DC. You didn’t lose yourself during this search the way you used to. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re even better. We need you in Unit 6.”

  Words Riley had been waiting to hear all her life.

  Except her world had changed. After fifteen years she’d finally found her sister, Madison. Alive. Madison’s kidnapping out of their bedroom when Riley was ten and Madison was twelve was the reason Riley had become obsessed with profiling criminals. She’d spent her entire life searching for what had happened to her older sister.

  Riley’d never expected to actually rescue Madison, not after so many years. She’d certainly never expected to fall in love with the man who’d been instrumental in helping her find her sister. But without Thayne Blackwood’s strength and faith, Riley had no idea what would’ve happened in those Wyoming mountains.

  Riley owed Thayne everything, and she loved him.

  “Come on, Riley,” Tom said. “You’re tempted. I can tell.”

  She met his gaze. “You can’t promise me a job. I know what the deputy director thinks of what I do.”

  “I’ll talk to him.”

  Her lips twisted. “Can you convince them to give me room to work my way? My own board, my own methods? No more trying to make me fit into the FBI’s box?”

  “As long as you follow the rules, I can make that happen.” He held out his hand. “Can I welcome you back?”

  Riley hesitated. He was saying everything she had always longed to hear, but . . . “I have others to consider besides me. Can I have a few days to think about it?”

  Her boss scowled. “What does Wyoming have for you, Riley? Come on. You belong in the FBI, using your talents, saving lives. Solving crimes no one else can solve. It’s who you are. We both know that.”

  He was right, but what about the family she’d found in Singing River? She’d never been more content.

  “I’ll call you, Tom.” Riley shook his hand and turned her back on the crime scene and her old boss.

  Head spinning, she made her way to her rental car and slid inside. She leaned forward against the steering wheel and stared through the windshield at the frenetic activity. She glanced down at her phone. A voice mail notice flashed at her. From yesterday? Was it Thayne? Her heart skipped a bit, then sagged. She didn’t recognize the number, though it had a Wyoming area code.

  She’d check on it later. Riley had a choice to make and needed to disconnect from both worlds. She had no idea how she’d ever decide.

  Sheriff Thayne Blackwood threw his brand-new official hat on his father’s—no, make that his—desk and plopped into the chair. The Singing River Sheriff’s Office was quiet. Too quiet. Just like it’d been every day for the last two weeks. Since the moment he’d accepted the job to replace his father.

  He peered into the small room. The three deputies who made up the office were on patrol. His dispatcher, Alicia, sat by the radio, waiting for the rare call.

  Not what he’d imagined when he’d filed his separation paperwork from the Navy. His SEAL team was deployed somewhere classified, and he didn’t have their six. Not to mention Riley had gone back to DC to assist her old FBI unit with a case. She’d agreed to his proposal but left without his ring on her finger and without setting a wedding date. A small niggle in his brain made him wonder if she’d come back at all.

  And here he was sitting in his office. Alone. In a town he could traverse within five minutes.

  A sharp knock sounded on the door. “Hey there, son. You busy?”

  Thayne let out a sigh as he stood. His father. Carson Blackwood visited every day without fail at eleven in the morning. Forced to retire because of a heart condition, he hadn’t been able to give up the law enforcement bug. Thayne had no idea what to do about it.

  Especially since he couldn’t exactly say he was overly busy.

  “Hey, Dad. How’re Pops and Gram?”

  “I just dropped them off at the diner for an ice-cream soda.” His father smiled. “Your grandmother’s having a good day. She wanted a treat. She also said she wants to come by. She has a message for Riley. Can’t remember it of course, but she’s adamant.”

  “And Pops?”

  Worry lines creased his father’s forehead. “I’m concerned. Caring for her is becoming tougher. She doesn’t recognize him more and more often now.”

  Gram’s Alzheimer’s had changed their family and was one of the reasons Thayne had decided to take the job. Especially with his father’s illness, the family needed him. He refused to regret the decision he’d made. He’d just have to get used to the changes.

  His dad sat in the chair across from Thayne. “So when’s Riley coming back?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know if she is.” Thayne sat behind his desk and took a sip of coffee, grimacing at the cold, bitter taste. “I thought I’d have heard from her by now.”

  “What are you talking about? That girl loves you.”

  “I thought so, but you should’ve seen how fast she caught a flight out of here when her old boss called. They needed her and she went running.”

  “Just like she did when you asked for her help to find Cheyenne after she was kidnapped. She brought your sister home safe. She’s got a gift.”

  Thayne scowled at his father. “When you put it like that—”

  “You miss her.”

  “It’s more than that.” Thayne hadn’t voiced his concerns aloud. Not to anyone. Not even to Riley. “She’s special. I don’t know if Singing River’s going to ever be enough for her.”

  Before his father could respond, the outer door of the sheriff’s office slammed, and Thayne shot to his feet.

  “I wanna see the sheriff right now. You hear me, young lady?”

  Thayne gazed beyond his open office door at a gray-headed, unkempt man shouting at his dispatcher, his face red with fury. “Isn’t that Old Man Peterson?” He strode out of t
he door. “Sir? No need to take it out on Alicia. I’m here. What can I do for you?”

  The man frowned at him. “Where’s the real sheriff? You’re just that young rabble-rousing son of his.”

  Thayne didn’t respond, but inside he sighed. One more reason he wasn’t certain this whole sheriff gig was going to work out. Too many people remembered him as the troublemaking Blackwood.

  “Dan?” Thayne’s father walked up behind him.

  A smile calmed Dan Peterson’s features. “It’s about time, Carson. What kind of place you running here?”

  “I ask myself that all the time.” He guided the older man to the door. “Why don’t you come into the office?”

  Thayne followed his father and pulled out a chair. “Would you sit down?”

  “I’m here, ain’t I?” Dan muttered. He stared at his boots, then sighed. “I don’t like coming to the law, but my daughter says I got to. Olivia’s stubborn that way. She’s furious at her stepmother.”

  Thayne’s dad hitched his hip on the side of his old desk. “What’s going on?”

  “My wife’s trying to kill me.”

  The words pierced Thayne with shock. He shut the office door and met his father’s gaze with a question in his eyes. “What makes you say that, sir?”

  Dan ignored Thayne and looked straight at the man he considered sheriff. “This.”

  He slipped off his shirt, and just below his collarbone, a dark, mottled bruise stood out against his pale skin. “Damned woman hit me with a pipe.”

  “A pipe?” Thayne narrowed his gaze.

  “You’re saying little ol’ Kate did this?” his father asked, his tone incredulous.

  “Well, who else coulda done it?” Dan frowned. “That woman is acting strange. She’s ordering me around, spending money on strange things. Just the other day, some fella came over and told me he’d been promised a thousand dollars to dig up the trees around the house. Now who in their right mind would pay that much to dig up a few trees?” He leaned forward. “I think she might be stepping out on me with the tree guy.”