Page 23 of Shiver

A few days. She probably shouldn’t stay longer than that anyhow. Somehow, this killer from her dreams always managed to find her. But how? A rush of goosebumps swept down her arms. She almost hoped he would find her at this cop’s ranch and hoped the detective would be waiting for him with a big black gun. Maybe then she would find a moment of peace.

The rain diminished to a slow sprinkle that quickly evaporated to thicken the heavy air. Soft Dixieland jazz played on the radio, soothing her tortured nerves. Her gaze followed the rolling mound that led to the levy before shifting to the side view mirror. A gray Honda followed closely behind them. There was only one person in the car—a man.

She glanced at the handsome detective out of the corner of her eye, but he didn’t seem to notice the Honda. Would she be able to depend on him? No, she’d never been able to depend on anyone. If she wanted this killer stopped, she’d have to find a way to do it herself.

“How’s Felix doing?” Riley asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Good. He’s a great traveler,” she answered, but kept her eyes on the side view mirror. “Thanks for letting him come. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without him.”

“Never been apart, huh?”

“No. He’s been my only family for a long time now.”

The detective looked at her with questions filling his eyes. But she didn’t give him any answers. That’s what the next few days would be like—him probing, her evading. They continued down the road in silence, his eyes on the road in front of them, hers focused on the car behind them. At last, the Honda turned off onto a side road and disappeared from view. Tension seeped out of her.

“Your cat is going to love the ranch,” Riley said. “We have six horses, four dogs, at least three cats, and a few ducks.”

Devra looked at him, her eyes wide. Just where was he taking her?

“My stepmother, LuAnn, trains horses. She has a soft spot for abandoned animals, takes them in, heals them, loves them, until they’re happy and healthy, then tries to find them homes. More often than not, she gets so attached she can’t bear to part with them.”

“She sounds like a very special woman.”

“She has a huge heart beneath a tough exterior. Mac and I tried everything we could think of to make her life miserable after she married my dad. She never held it against us. Not even after the snake episode.”

Devra’s heart skipped a beat. “I’m not sure I want to hear about the snake episode.”

He smiled and as much as she didn’t want to, she found herself smiling back at him. Another one of his tactics, she was sure.

A few minutes later, they turned right onto a gravel road and drove under a large cast-iron arch that spelled out the word MacIntyres. A huge antebellum home sat back from the road amidst a cluster of guardian live oaks that had to be at least two hundred years old.

Devra stared at the house, awestruck by the towering columns and wraparound verandah. “I thought you said you lived on a ranch?”

“I do. This is it.”

“Looks more like Tara to me,” she muttered. “You actually live here?”

“Yep. Grew up here, as did my daddy and his daddy before him.”

“Incredible. I’m afraid Felix and I will probably get lost.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll be staying with me. I have a much smaller place in back.”

Devra wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but it wasn’t a Southern mansion and it certainly wasn’t staying in “something smaller out back” with just him.

They continued around a barn-shaped five-car garage to a small farmhouse hidden behind a cluster of trees. She couldn’t take her eyes off the old-fashioned front porch offering two inviting granny rockers.

He parked in front of a massive live oak shading the walk. “This is it.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, taken in by the peaceful setting.

“Wait ’til you see the river behind the house. Do you like to fish?”

Devra turned to him. “I don’t know. I’ve never been.”

His mouth twisted into a smirk. “That is a sin against nature. What have you been doin’ all your life?”

“Not much,” she was embarrassed to admit. That’s what happened when you lived in fear of people finding out who you were, what you’d done, and where you’d been.

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