Page 96 of Trap ’N’ Trace

Dayne was out there somewhere because she’d sent him away. No matter how many times she relived their last conversation, the end game was always the same. She loved him with all her heart, but being near him would have been unbearable.

Angus sat up from where he’d been curled happily at the foot of her bed. She and Agent Shanahan had taken him out earlier and met Hakeem, the new guard on duty. He was so young. Surprisingly young to be armed with a gun.

Needing to be more comfortable, she changed out of her dress and into jeans and a light blue sweatshirt. No sooner had she settled back onto the bed to find something—anything—on TV to keep her mind off Dayne, when her cell phone rang. It was Agent Shanahan.

She swiped to answer the call. “Beth, is everything all right?”

“No, Miss Vandenburg.” Beth’s voice held a note of urgency. “Hakeem just told me there’s a fire outside the castle. On the northwest corner. I’m going outside to check it out. Stay here.”

Kat bolted from the bed, upsetting Angus who pranced worriedly to the edge of the mattress. With the phone still pressed to her ear, she ran to the other window and yanked back the curtain. “Oh my god!” Flames shot from one of the hedges. Smoke billowed and blew past the window.

She flung open her closet and shoved her bare feet into a pair of Ferragamo flats. With her heart racing, she picked Angus up and hastily made her way down the stairs. The pup wriggled and struggled in her arms. At nearly twenty pounds, she had to set him on the floor.

The keypad on the wall by the door blinked green. Beth must have deactivated the system, and since the fire was completely outside the castle, the smoke alarm hadn’t gone off. Yet. She hoped it didn’t come to that.

Kat peered out one of the windows to see flames licking higher. She was about to call 911 when her cell phone rang again. It was Hakeem, the outside guard.

“Miss Vandenburg,” came Hakeem’s worried voice. “I know the castle is made of stone, but you’d better play it safe and come outside. I’ve already called the fire department.”

“Thank you.” Through the window she glimpsed flames spreading to Walter’s beloved hydrangeas. Even with the wet spring season, the shrubs were catching fire quickly. Through the thickening smoke, she searched for Beth but didn’t see her. “Where’s Agent Shanahan?”

“She’s with my partner,” Hakeem answered. “They’re hooking up the garden hose. Please, hurry. The fire’s getting worse.”

“C’mon, Angus.” Her heart raced as she flung open the door. They’d be fine. The fire department was only two miles away.

The puppy bounded down the front stairs, barking his head off. “Angus!” She chased after him, worrying the little guy would get run over by a fire truck if she didn’t corral him quickly. “Beth? Hakeem?” As she rounded the corner of the castle where Angus had disappeared, a wave of heat and smoke hit her in the face. A chemical smell raked at her nose and throat, making her cough. Gasoline.

“Angus!” she screamed, staggering back. Where is he?

Barking drew her attention to the grass near the edge of the adjacent tree line. Angus’s tail whipped back and forth as he sniffed something on the grass. Was that—?

The security guard lay face down, unmoving. And was that blood on the back of his head?

She touched her fingers to the young man’s head and they came back sticky with blood. “Hakeem!” she cried. “Hakeem!” She slid her fingers to his neck, searching frantically for a pulse. While she waited for the telltale thumping of life, something else caught her attention. Beth and the other guard lay ten feet away, also face down in the brush.

Fear snaked up her spine. That hadn’t been Hakeem on the phone. No one had called the fire department, and no one ever would. Beth and the guards were dead, the fire intentionally set. To get me outside.

Leaves crunched behind her. Too late, she realized her mistake.

She’d played right into the killer’s hands.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Carolyn Mauser’s gray Nissan sat in the driveway. A lamppost in the adjacent yard illuminated the tag number—NJ C24-BMV—and the sizeable dent in the left side of the rear bumper.

They still didn’t know for sure if this was their guy, but every fiber of Dayne’s being said it was. They needed more than just a similarity to a photo and a sketch. Like hard evidence that would stand up in court.

He parked on the street in front of the house. Nine eighty-five Oak Court. Paulson pulled up behind him.

Remy snorted, pacing behind back and forth in the kennel. “Blieb.” His dog shoved her head through the window, uttering an unhappy whine. He gave her a quick scratch behind the ears then joined Paulson on the sidewalk.

“How do you want to play this?”

“By ear.” He tugged a flashlight from his belt, stopping to shine it through the garage window. Aside from two bicycles, several storage bins, and some garden tools, the garage was empty. The other vehicle registered to Carolyn Mauser, a blue Chevy Equinox, wasn’t there.

He jerked his head up. A blue Chevy Equinox. Like the one he’d seen two weeks ago on the street corner near Amy Thorpe’s house. He’d thought it had been sitting at the stop sign too long. Coincidence? Damn, but he should have gone with his gut right then and there. If his mistake got Kat killed, he didn’t know if he’d survive it.

He pulled his creds from his back pocket and continued up the walk. “Let’s just get our feet inside the door, first.” He pressed the doorbell. A gong sounded and a moment later, the curtain covering one of the door’s glass side panels shifted.