Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)

“I’ll talk to her,” he said.

Josh stepped through the door and looked around the empty room. “Want me to man the bar? I think I can handle a crowd this size.”

Noah raised an eyebrow as he lowered the wooden section dividing the back of the bar from the customer area. “We’re closed. I already flipped the sign.”

“Good.” Josh’s easy-­going manner vanished. “You might want to keep it closed. That guy who’s after her?”

Noah nodded, hearing the edge in Josh’s voice. It sounded like the logger was taking Dustin’s pursuit personally.

“He dropped off another picture,” Josh continued. “A printout this time. He must have slipped it under the door while she was unloading the clean dishes out front. Caroline didn’t see or hear anything. And she’s on her guard every damn second.”

“Is the photo recent?” Noah demanded, his hand on the door, ready to push through and do whatever he needed to keep Caroline safe.

Maybe I can’t do a damn thing for Josie or Dominic, but this I can handle.

“Yes,” Josh said. “But the thing is, I’m not sure it is Caroline in the shot.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure?” he demanded.

“It looks a helluva lot like Josie.”

A shiver ran down his spine, something he hadn’t felt since he’d shouldered his weapon and headed out to face the bad guys.

“The picture was taken from a distance,” Josh continued. “And they have the same long dark hair. Whoever took the shot could have made a mistake and thought it was Caroline.”

“Where was it taken?” Noah asked. Please don’t say Big Buck’s parking lot.

“Caroline, Josie, whoever it is, she’s standing outside your barn holding one of your kittens,” Josh said, his tone grim.

Ah hell.

And just like that, Noah knew—­his dishwasher had every right to be paranoid. Because this threat defined imminent danger. Dustin was out there. And he was close enough to see Noah’s barn.

“We’re keeping the bar closed,” Noah said as he pushed through the door. “And we’re going to find him.”

THE SUN WAS slipping behind the clouds and Noah didn’t have a clue where Dustin was hiding. He’d driven through Forever’s quiet downtown with Josh and Caroline in his truck, scanning the streets. Josh had volunteered to pop into The Three Sisters Café and ask a few questions, and Noah had given him the go-­ahead. The Forever town gossips didn’t keep tabs on ­people who lived an hour or so away and were less likely to respond to Josh’s questions with their own interrogation.

But Elvira hadn’t seen a lone man fitting Dustin’s description. No one had.

And their former commanding officer wasn’t roaming the university campus. Noah had driven back and forth through the campus twice hoping to find Dustin hiding in plain sight.

Now they were walking through the woods between his property and the neighbor’s land.

“We’re losing the light,” Noah said.

“We are,” Josh acknowledged, stopping beside a fir tree. He stared up at it.

Noah turned to Caroline. Her lips were pressed together, her eyes darting to the blackberry vines and briar they’d been picking their way through for the past hour.

“You can admire my trees another time,” Noah said. “But let’s keep moving through this section. I’m pretty damn sure I’m the only one who has been crazy enough to walk through this overgrown area recently.”

“Were you limbing last time you came through?” Josh asked, running his hand up the trunk.

“No, I haven’t had a lot of spare time to remove branches and care for the damn trees. I was doing the same thing we’re doing now only in the dead of night,” he said. “Trust me, it’s easier with the light. So why don’t we keep walking while you lecture me on how to take care of my forest.” He took a step toward Caroline.

“Someone’s been climbing this tree with spiked boots.” Josh continued to run his hand over the bark as he lifted his gaze to the tree’s top. “And if you weren’t limbing . . .”

“Hell.” Noah marched over and stared at the tree trunk. He could see the marks from the spiked boots loggers wore to climb up and cut off the lower branches.