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The door burst open. For one heart stopping moment, Faith was face-to-face with the masked man. Light glinted off the gun in his hand.
She screamed. Spinning on her heel, Faith bolted for the kitchen. Scamper barked furiously. She prayed it was enough to prevent the intruder from going anywhere near the old dog. And subsequently, Anna’s hiding place. Footsteps pounded behind her as the gunman gave chase. Her fingers fumbled with the lock and then frigid air washed over her heated cheeks as she stumbled into the night.
The grass was icy under her soles. A bullet whizzed past, close enough to ruffle Faith’s hair. Another scream lodged in her throat. She kept moving, drawing the killer farther from the house and away from everything she loved dearly. It was a reckless and dangerous move. One Chase would never approve of, but Faith couldn’t think of another way to save him and Anna.
Another gunshot rang out. Survival instinct took over as Faith bolted across the lawn for the barn. Her breath came in gasps as she darted around the structure. The mud threatened to upend her. For one brief terrifying moment, Faith imagined herself as Hillary. Clutching her child, blindly running, terror fueling her movements. The woods were dark shadows in the distance. If she could lure the gunman into them, then it might buy enough time for the police to arrive. She gripped the knife and added more fuel to her steps.
A shape loomed large and Faith stumbled back. She landed hard on her rear. Pain shot through her back and the blanket tumbled from her arms. The attacker snatched it and gave a growl of frustration when he realized it was empty.
Faith scrambled to get her feet, but wasn’t fast enough. The attacker snagged her arm with a gloved hand. He jabbed the gun into her side. The cold metal of the barrel pressed into her skin.
Faith froze.
“Where is she?” he snarled. Then he shook her violently, his voice rising. “Where is she?”
“Gone!” she yelled the word. Even through the haze of her fear, the attacker’s voice was familiar. It was Tom, her neighbor. Faith couldn’t allow him to get his hands on Anna. “She’s gone. The social worker took her to a family in the next county to keep her safe.”
The lie spilled from her lips in a shaky voice. She forced herself to meet the gaze of the man trying to kill her. His eyes were black pits of evil, visible through the slits in the ski mask, and a river of icy fear ran down her spine.
His breathing was ragged. Then Tom’s grip on her arm tightened, and he slammed her against a pine tree. Pain ricocheted through her brain as her skull collided with the rough wood. The gun dug harder into her side.
“Don’t lie to me. I know you’ve hidden her somewhere, probably in the house.” He twisted her around and began dragging her in that direction.
“You won’t get away with this, Tom. The police are already on the way.”
If he was surprised she’d discovered his identity, it didn’t show. He ignored her comment and kept moving. Faith held tight to the knife, but the angle was all wrong. She couldn’t disarm him. She also couldn’t allow him to get back inside the house. He’d kill them all.
Faith dug her heels into the grass, hoping to slow their progress across the yard. “What are you going to do to Anna? You can’t hurt her. She’s just a baby.”
This time, her words garnered a reaction. Tom’s iron hold on her arm tightened even more. “That…thing has caused me more grief than I care to admit. She’s not a baby to me. She’s eighteen years worth of child support that I’m not interested in paying.”
His tone was harsh and cold. Faith dropped her body weight, making it harder for Tom to drag her. “You killed Hillary. The two of you had an affair, but when she got pregnant with Anna, you didn’t want to have anything to do with her. That’s why she moved to Austin. But she came back. She saw her brother and then she brought Anna to meet you.” Faith didn’t actually expect him to respond. She kept talking, putting the facts they’d gather during the investigation together. “You drove them to your house. Your wife was on vacation, visiting her family.”
Faith remembered that tidbit from their first conversation at her house. Tom had tried to push the investigation toward Dr. Whitcomb. He’d done a good job acting upset over Hillary’s death. “The next morning, you had an argument with Hillary. She wanted you to be a father to her baby, to pay child support.”
Whatever happened had scared Hillary. She took Anna and bolted from Tom’s house. Ran through the woods searching for safety, ending up in Faith’s yard. Tom killed her in the barn, carried her back to his house, and then went back for the baby. But Faith had already found Anna.
Tom had been trying to cover up his affair and the subsequent murder ever since. That’s why he needed to get rid of Anna. A DNA test would prove he was the father.
They were halfway across the yard now. Faith struggled to slow their progress even more. She strained to listen for any sound of the police. Where were they? She twisted the knife around in her fingers, tightening her grip on the only weapon she had left. “You drugged the hot chocolate. How did you know we’d drink it? Or when?”
“There’s a listening device in the basket. I couldn’t take any more chances.” Tom glared at her. “You and Hillary. You’ve caused me a bunch of unnecessary trouble.”
Faint sirens wailed in the distance. It was now or never. Faith twisted her body and jabbed the knife into Tom’s arm.
He screamed. The hand holding her loosened, and Faith wasted no time. She whirled, racing for the barn door. She shoved it open and bolted inside. Poppy pawed at the ground in her stall. The scent of hay and horse hung heavy in the air.
Faith’s heart thundered in her chest as her feet pounded against the concrete floor. The police officers would come to the front of the house. She needed to get there, and the fastest way was through the barn.
Her gaze narrowed to the door on the other side. Behind her came the sound of angry footsteps. Tom wasn’t giving up.
The barn door swung open, frigid air rushing in as a large shadow filled the doorway. Chase. His hand shot out, and he shoved Faith to the ground, raising his weapon. Shots erupted in the space. Faith’s eyes squeezed shut, prayers on her lips.
Moments later, she was gathered in Chase’s arms. She gripped his shirt with one hand, sobs rising in her chest as she clung to him. He was solid and whole. Alive. Faith kept her eyes closed, unwilling to look at the other side of the barn. “Is he…is he…?”
Chase’s lips caressed her temple. “It’s over, sweetheart. It’s all over.”
