Page 2 of Deadly Past

Glass crunched under heavy footsteps. “He’s in the house.”

“Can you go to one of your neighbors’?” the 9-1-1 operator asked.

“I think so.” Wynona crept to the front door, inched it open, and ran out into the street. Her closest neighbor was an older couple in their seventies who had befriended both her and Declan the first day they’d moved here. They’d become like family following the divorce. Would she be bringing her danger to their door?

Across the street, neighbor Brad Parker’s lights were on. Wynona glanced over her shoulder, half expecting her stalker to grab her from behind. He was nowhere in sight.

Sirens blared a few blocks away. Would the sound scare him off?

She reached Brad’s house and banged on the door several times before he answered.

“Wynona? Are you okay?” He glanced past her to the empty street where strobing police lights approached. “Did something happen?”

“S-someone broke into my home.”

Brad quickly ushered her inside and shut the door. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head and then realized she still had the 9-1-1 operator on the phone, and she’d been trying to get Wynona’s attention. Wynona put the phone to her ear. “Yes, I’m okay. I’m at my neighbor’s across the street.”

“Stay there, ma’am. I’ll send an officer to you once your home has been cleared.”

Wynona ended the call and did her best to explain to Brad what happened.

“And you think this is the same person you saw at your family home?”

“I do.” Wynona hurried to the window and looked out. The officers were inside her house in the process of clearing it. She turned from the window. “I’m glad you were awake.”

“Me, too. I couldn’t sleep, so I ended up doing a workout on the treadmill. Why don’t you come through to the kitchen and I’ll make some coffee. Something tells me neither of us are going to be getting sleep anytime soon.”

His premonition settled around her with a shiver. There was no way she was going back into that house anytime soon. She wouldn’t feel safe. There was only one person she could go to who would believe her. But more than six years had passed since she’d seen Declan, and the way they’d parted had been ugly. Still, if anyone could keep her alive long enough to find out what was really happening, it was her ex-husband.

???

Something had jerked Declan Thomas awake. He sat up in bed and reached for the Glock he always kept on the nightstand. The racing heart—the frantic eyes sweeping the room—all lasting effects of surviving too many close calls as an Army Ranger. He’d been out of the service for a long time now, and yet he still couldn’t sleep through even the slightest sounds. . .and he’d definitely heard something.

Declan swung his legs over the side of the bed and listened over his thudding heartbeat. Nothing. Not even the dog his neighbor and business partner, JT Wyatt, and his wife Rachel, had adopted recently. Still, the pit in his stomach continued to grind away, preventing him from lying back down.

Declan started for the bedroom door, the Glock gripped tight in his hand. A sound at the front of the house stopped him in his tracks. Someone was moving around on his front porch.

Declan eased past the kitchen that had recently been remodeled. He’d bought the house from the owner shortly after he’d moved to Hope Island, Maine. Though the house had been in good shape, it was an older one and had survived a lot of nor’easters as well as an occasional hurricane.

Footsteps creaked on the old front-porch boards he’d been meaning to replace. Then a knock.

A relieved breath escaped. Bad guys didn’t usually knock. It could be one of the neighbors who lived along the rocky Maine coastline, or perhaps one of his fellow Hope Island Securities team members unable to sleep with the approaching weather that was scheduled to move in right before Christmas in a few days’ time.

“Hang on, I’m coming.” His grip loosened on the handgun. Declan reached the front door and flipped on the outside light. When he got a good look at the person standing on his porch, he stepped back automatically. This was neither a neighbor nor a colleague.

In an instant, the past came rushing back along with all of Declan’s failures. The sight of her caused his breath to stick in his throat. He yanked the door open, unable to believe who he was seeing. “Wynona?” His mouth opened and his brain shut down.

Nothing computed. He was the last person she’d ever visit. They hadn’t spoken since their divorce had been finalized six years ago. Though it had been a while since he’d seen her, every inch of her pretty face had been etched in his brain forever. Wynona hadn’t aged—well, not much anyway. She’d let her silver-blonde hair grow longer past her shoulders. It looked as if it had been blown by the wind, or she’d been running her fingers through it—a habit she had when she was worried.

Wynona glanced nervously over her shoulder, and he followed her gaze.

A small car was parked in his drive. Beyond that, nothing but the black of night.

“Can I come in?” she asked and twisted her hands together. She was worried.

Declan stepped back without speaking and held the door open. Wynona followed him in and waited while he closed the door and relocked it.

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