Page 52 of Crash and Burn

The toe of her boot caught on a tree root, and she almost went sprawling but managed to catch herself and stay upright.

“Are you okay?” Sebastian turned and looked over his shoulder, ready to help her.

“I’m fine. Go!” she nearly yelled it. She wanted this guy caught. Whether or not he was one of the predators, this asshole had broken into her home. He’d known a way to get into her home even after all of the locks had been changed, and she was furious.

They chased their prowler all the way along the path, only pausing at the fork when they couldn't see him anymore.

They stood still, listening carefully. Maggie was grateful that the night was as warm as it was, otherwise she'd be shivering. She pointed to the short path to her left, wondering if she'd been correct before about the dock being a good escape point.

Sebastian shrugged as if to say they were already out running through the woods in the middle of the night in their pajamas, why not take one more chance?

Sure enough, as they reached the end of the path and cleared the woods, both of them fought to not skid down on the sloping ground.

He’d been here. The dock was still bouncing from the force of running feet. A smooth trail marked the water where a boat had been tied to the dock and very recently motored away.

Maggie held her hand up for Sebastian to be silent. Just barely—over the sound of her own heavy breathing—she could hear an engine. The trail in the water led to a small wake that led out the tiny alcove and off toward the left. Toward Lincoln.

“Son of a bitch!” Sebastian swore. Though he clenched his left fist, his right hand held the gun at his side and didn’t move. He was right: he was well trained with that gun.

Maggie reached up, grabbed his fist, and unclenched it with her own fingers. Then slid her hand into his. Palm to palm, she felt her blood pressure drop just from touching him.

“We’ll get him,” she said, as though she and Sebastian were the only line of defense between an innocent world and a killer.

With a heavy sigh, he let go of her hand. For a moment, she paused, wondering if he didn’t like the touch as much as she did. But then he reached up and threaded his fingers into her hair. Pulling her close, he kissed her with a force she hadn't expected.

When the torrent was over, once she understood that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to hold her hand, Sebastian rested his forehead against hers.

“I need you safe.” He breathed the words out into the dark night air, then he added with a wry tone, “I want to continue what we started earlier.”

Maggie kissed him back and whispered, “Me, too.”

With another deep breath, Sebastian sighed to the sky and reached into his back pocket, producing his cell phone.

Maggie felt her eyebrows lift. She should have called 9-1-1. She’d been ready to but she’d … set her phone down back at the house? She didn’t remember now, the shock of it all punching holes in her memory.

Sebastian began dialing.

Chapter Forty-Three

Maggie stood in her backyard, still in her Bugs Bunny night shirt and her winter boots. But now she was also wearing a thin foil blanket that Marina Balero had brought her. The officer had given Sebastian one as well, and Maggie could admit it looked much better on him than her.

She clenched a cup of truly terrible coffee in her hands, also brought to her by the officer. Balero had made sure they were warm, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Maggie wasn’t allowed inside her own home and it was lit up like a beacon as police officers combed the building, collecting evidence.

The neighbors had come out to watch despite the fact that it was now going on three am. But how could they not? The noise of police cars arriving, sirens blaring, in the middle of the night must have woken them. Then the officers racing through the yard and into the woods to meet the firefighter and the lawyer in their pajamas had to have been a show worth watching.

They’d had their statements taken right there in their foil blankets in the back yard for all to see. Sebastian had been smart enough to take a picture while the trail still showed on the water and he’d showed that to the police detective on the scene. Though anything the picture might have proven was slim at best.

They’d already been questioned by several other officers, both separately and together. But now another one—a young man that Maggie didn’t recognize—approached them. “I'd like to ask you a few more questions.”

Maggie nodded. She knew how this went. Different officers would have different priorities with the investigation—which was good, it got things covered—but it was a pain in the ass for witnesses. They also asked the same questions repeatedly, on purpose. It was a way to check for errors in the story, or things a witness might not remember clearly. Those things could change over time and with retellings.

Maggie took a sip of the coffee again and instantly regretted it. Now that it was getting cold, it was beyond terrible.

The officer went through the general information first. “What did the perpetrator look like?”

But neither of them could go beyond a general description of a person in shadow. Maggie couldn't even say for sure if it was a man or a woman. She was confident it was a man, and Sebastian believed that, too, but when she was asked why, she couldn’t put her finger on anything.

Previously, they'd been asked about what they saw—about the things that could be used as eyewitness evidence in court. But this time, the officer took a different tack. “Do you have any idea why he might have come back?”

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