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She smiled at the photos and the cards she’d saved from friends and even tried jamming the promise ring she’d gotten from Tommy Whitecotton onto her pinky finger. But no pink ribbon was nestled among the memories.
She popped the lid from box number two and fished around inside. These photos and keepsakes were from her high school years. She thumbed through a stack of senior pictures, collected from her friends, and stopped at one of a serious, dark-haired boy.
She traced her finger over Jim’s young face. She must’ve gotten up the courage to ask him for a picture. She flipped the photo over, but he hadn’t signed it. Maybe she’d stolen it from him.
Giggling like a high school girl, she plucked the photo from the bunch and dropped it on the coffee table. He’d been such a hottie back then and had only gotten better with age.
She shuffled through the rest of the photos and keepsakes but didn’t find a pink ribbon, or any ribbon. She replaced the lid on the second box and stacked one box on top of the other on the kitchen counter.
As she scraped up the last bit of yogurt with her spoon, a horn began to blare outside. She dropped the carton in the sink and flew to the front window. Sweeping the curtain aside, she peered through the glass at her own car sitting just beyond the burned logs and scorched trees.
Must be her horn, but it didn’t sound like her car alarm. She grabbed her keys from her purse and, aiming the key fob in front of her, she jabbed the button to unlock the car door as she stepped outside and walked toward her wailing car.
She opened the door and blinked at the block of wood propped up on the seat and wedged against her horn.
“What the hell is this?” She hunched forward to knock the wood loose.
She sensed a whisper of movement, but before she could turn around someone shoved her face-first onto the passenger seat.
She screamed and struggled to turn her head.
A hand gripped the back of her neck, the thumb pressing close to her windpipe.
She tried to kick out behind her, but a body fell heavily on her back and the point of a knife pricked her throat just beneath her jawline.
She froze, her next scream turning into a whimper.
Hot breath and a hoarse whisper in her ear. “You’ve been warned. Leave it alone.”
Chapter Twelve
Jim rolled up to Scarlett’s cabin on a set of tires borrowed from another bike, enjoying the view. She’d be so much safer once the landscaper cleared the burned mess and passersby could see her cabin from the road.
His eyebrows collided over his nose as he took in Scarlett’s car with the car door open wide. Then his heart started pumping double time when he saw her pointy-toed boots hanging out the door.
He parked behind her car and jumped off the bike. “Scarlett?”
As he reached the car door, she rolled over on her back and choked.
He took one look at her tear-streaked face, pale with fear, and grabbed her hands, yanking her out of the car and into his arms. Her body trembled against his.
“What in God’s name happened? Are you hurt?”
Sniffling, she hauled in a couple of shaky breaths. “Someone just threatened me, held a knife to my throat.”
His pulse jumped and he scooped her into a tighter hug. “How long ago? Why were you just lying in the car? Did he hurt you?”
“He didn’t hurt me, but he told me to stay where I was. That was about five minutes ago. I’m sure he’s long gone, but I was too afraid to move.”
“Did you get a look at him?” Resting his chin on the top of Scarlett’s head, he scanned the woods at the edge of her property. “What direction did he go?”
“I didn’t hear a vehicle, so he must’ve come and gone on foot, which probably means through the forest. He wouldn’t want to chance being seen from the road.”
“You didn’t get a look at him?”
“He approached me from behind and smashed my face into the car seat.”
“How’d he do all that without revealing himself?”
“It...it was a trap.” She kicked at a piece of wood on the ground. “He rigged this up to honk my horn. When I came out to investigate, he came up behind me. The horn was blaring and my ears were ringing, so I didn’t hear him approach.”
