Page 4 of Shrouded Past

Up ahead, something caught his attention through the deluge of rain. Taillights. Bryce squinted through the pouring water and realized something appeared off.

The car had veered off the road and sat at the edge of the trees.

Someone with car trouble?

He slowed enough to make out a little more. Through the silty darkness, what appeared to be smoke billowed from the front of the stopped vehicle. An accident.

He pulled up beside the car. The driver’s door stood open, rain blowing inside the empty vehicle. The front of the car had crumpled upon impact with a tree.

Where was the driver? Had he walked down to one of the houses for help?

Bryce studied the scene through cop’s eyes. Something about it lifted the hairs on the back of Bryce’s neck. He’d been in law enforcement long enough to know to trust that feeling.

Bryce parked beside the vehicle and opened the glove box to grab his handgun. He tucked it into the backside of his jeans and then removed the flashlight he kept next to it. Slicking back his hair, he clamped the black Stetson that had been a gift from his wife. Though the hat wasn’t exactly a sanctioned part of his uniform, he’d worn it both on and off duty from the day Jenna had given it to him.

She’d loved the irony of a good guy wearing a black hat. She’d said no one who knew him when he was younger would expect him to be a cop. Jenna was right. He was a screw-up and had gotten into trouble throughout his young life.

The former sheriff—who apparently saw something worth fighting for in Bryce—brought Bryce on several ride-along trips, sparking Bryce’s desire to follow in his footsteps. Otherwise, no telling where he would’ve ended up.

When Sheriff Henson retired, Bryce had run for office. To his surprise, and a lot of thanks to Sheriff Henson endorsing him, he won the election.

He flipped on his hazard lights. The last thing he wanted was to end up in an accident trying to give assistance.

Bryce forced the door open against gale-force winds. As soon as he cleared the door, rain drenched his clothing.

He slowly eased toward the abandoned vehicle. Rain had soaked the driver’s seat. He flashed his light around inside. Both airbags had gone off. Something on the passenger seat caught his attention immediately. Dark stains that had nothing to do with the rain covered a great deal of the top and bottom of the seat. That was blood.

His concerns grew, and he returned to his truck and found a pair of work gloves. Slipping them on, he quickly moved to the passenger side and opened the door. The metallic scent of blood confirmed his assessment. From the amount of apparent blood loss, whoever had been riding in the passenger seat was seriously injured.

Bryce carefully opened the glove box, which appeared empty of any type of identification. The center console proved more of the same. Where was the driver and the injured passenger?

He shifted toward the woods near the vehicle. The rain had washed away any sign of prints. Frowning, he returned to the driver’s side once more. The gravel road was drenched to the point of water running down it in rivulets. Before he could grab his cell phone from the truck and call in the accident, a noise coming from the back of the car caught his attention.

Thunk, thunk, thunk . . .

He whipped out his handgun and retrieved the key fob from the wrecked vehicle, where it dangled in the ignition along with several keys.

Bryce slowly moved toward the back. He pulled in a ragged breath before he hit the trunk unlock button. The trunk’s hatch door shot up. He flashed the light into the cavernous hole. A woman, her huge eyes wide pools of terror stared up at him. She’d been gagged, her hands tied together with rope. She shrank back and screamed – its muffled sound even more alarming.

“You’re safe,” Bryce murmured ignoring the uneasy feeling racing down his spine that seemed to reject those words. He shoved the gun back behind his back and gently removed the gag.

“Help me,” her plea came out somewhere between a sob and a scream.

“I am—I will. I’ve got you.” Bryce removed his knife from his pocket. His gaze spanned the space around the vehicle wondering where the person was who had put her in the trunk. “Let me get you free. Who did this to you?”

He noticed blood pooling behind her. Along the side of her face, a large gash held caked blood. More blood covered the front of her T-shirt. Was this the person whose blood he’d seen in the car?

But if so, why was she in the trunk now?

Bryce cut the rope free from her hands and then realized her feet were also bound. He sliced through that rope as well. As soon as she was free, the woman tried to climb out, but fell back, too weak from blood loss to leave the trunk. She closed her eyes and raised her hand to her head.

“Hang on. You’re hurt. I’m calling for help.”

The fear in her eyes doubled at what he’d said. “No. Please. Just get me out of here before he comes back and kills both of us.”

???

Piper fought back the darknessthreatening to sweep her away. When the trunk opened, she’d been so sure it washimreturning to finish her off.

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