Page 50 of Into the Fire

“You can always call on that ATF agent for help if you get stuck.”

“He’s already back in the loop.”

Alison groaned and rolled her eyes. “I told you those Fed types like to be in charge.”

“Not this one. He hasn’t tried to take over.”

“Glad to hear it. Is he nice?”

“Uh-huh.” Very.

“Young?”

“Relatively speaking.”

“Handsome?”

Oh yeah.

“That would be a fair description.”

“Single?”

“As far as I know.”

Alison grinned. “I wouldn’t mind working with a Fed who had all those attributes, either.” She glanced in the rearview mirror as another car pulled in behind her. “If you ever need another lift, give me a call.”

“I will. Thanks again.” Bri closed the door and hoofed it toward the garage while her chauffeur pulled out of the lot.

Some women would have let relationship problems sour them on marriage. But despite the bum hand she’d been dealt in the romance department, Alison still viewed the world through rose-colored glasses and saw Cupid’s arrow everywhere.

Sweet, but dangerous. Because a starry-eyed outlook could also blind you. It was far safer to be pragmatic and learn from mistakes, as she had after her dreadful experience in Idaho.

Better to be slow and cautious than fast and sorry.

As Alison’s taillights disappeared in the distance, Bri pushed through the door of the garage, rummaged through her purse for her wallet, and reviewed her priorities for the evening.

First, she’d grit her teeth and pay the hefty bill for four new tires. Then she’d go home, nuke a frozen dinner, pore over the mystery files again, and try not to dwell on Marc’s worry that the flats were more than mere bad luck. That they were an attack ... a payback ... retaliation ... revenge.

Ignoring that possibility would be foolish, however. And no one had ever called Bri Tucker foolish.

But if the flats did represent retribution, what was she supposed to do about it? She didn’t even know where she’d picked up the nails. And how could she figure out who was behind it if she didn’t have a clue what had motivated the attack?

She inched forward in the line, forcing herself to take a deep breath.

Worry and panic would get her nowhere. Those emotions had been dangerous and distracting during her smokejumper days, and they were dangerous and distracting now. She had to corral them, as she’d done on the disastrous day she’d almost lost her life.

And she would.

If someone was trying to make her life difficult, she wouldn’t let them rattle her. She’d carry on and keep doing her best, as she always did.

There was one big difference this go-round, though.

Marc was in her corner.

Yes, they were new acquaintances. And yes, her instincts about men had failed her once. But her eyes were wide open now.

So unless fate was setting her up for a second spectacular fail with the opposite gender, Marc was the real deal.

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