There was some dark shit going on here.

2

Savannah Bishop stepped between the empty tables in the café to scan Main Street, her stomach coiled with tension.

At nine a.m. in Hazard, Montana, all the young men in town were at work in the mines. A few retired guys chatted near the front of the restaurant, bundled for the ten-degree weather. Thunder growled in the distance, promising another rare bout of thundersnow. And there was still no sign of the person Savannah needed most.

“This nasty weather’s been causing trouble for days.” Misty, Savannah’s coworker and only friend, cleared a table nearby. “She may have gotten hung up in the pass.”

Savannah cut a look at Misty. “Like Mason got hung up in that mine?”

The cops were holding all the information surrounding Mason’s death close to their bulletproof vests, leaving everyone in town to speculate. The way Mason could be here one day and gone the next—dead the next—reminded Savannah how brief and tenuous life could be. Reminded her how badly she needed to get out of this town and away from Hank. The finalization of their divorce brought both relief and fear. She honestly didn’t know what Hank was capable of anymore, and she wasn’t sure what to expect from him when those papers came through.

Misty’s gaze joined Savannah’s out the window. The café’s morning rush had passed, and they slowed to catch their breath for the lunch crowd.

“The first thing I thought when I heard about Mason…”—Misty met Savannah’s gaze—“was why couldn’t it have been Hank?”

Surprise cut across Savannah’s ribs. “Misty. He’s still Jamison’s father.”

“He hasn’t been a father to Jamison in years.” Misty squeezed Savannah’s shoulder, and turned away. “She’ll be here.”

“She should have been here an hour ago, and she’s not answering her phone.” Her stomach coiled with tension. If something happened to Audrey because of her involvement in Savannah’s divorce, she’d never forgive herself. “I told her to come Saturday so Derrick could ride with her.”

Savannah had been working with Audrey for two years on this divorce. The only attorney with enough guts to take Hank on, Audrey had bravely defied Hank’s attempts to keep her out of town.

After several threatening confrontations with deputies at the county line, Audrey believed Hank was listening in on her conversations with Savannah. Now they communicated on disposable cells Hank didn’t know about. Audrey also started bringing her boyfriend with her on the three-hour treks. As the city attorney in Missoula, Derrick held influence in realms outside Hank’s circle of power in Hazard County. Seemed the element of surprise, and the threat of witnesses and a lawsuit, was the only way Audrey could get past the county line.

“Girls.” A customer’s friendly voice broke into Savannah’s thoughts. “Can I get more coffee?”

“Of course, hon,” Misty said, then told Savannah, “You know how sketchy cell service is. Hold it together. You’re close, honey. Really close.”

She was close. But instead of feeling excitement or even relief, an overwhelming sense of dread hung over her, as gray as the storm clouds filling the sky. The last four years felt like an interminable hell. Jamison was the only thing that kept her going. Jamison gave her the will to face and fight the tyrant Hank had become, despite her fear.

The bell over the door signaled a new customer. Savannah stuffed her stress and turned away from the window with a forced smile. “Good morning, take any seat you’d—” Her gaze focused on the guest, and her stomach turned to rock: Lyle Bishop, her soon-to-be ex-father-in-law. She exhaled and shored up her walls. “Lyle. I’ll have Misty bring you coffee.”

“No need,” he said, setting his parka on a wall hook before leaning on the counter. “Won’t be here long. Just stopping by to pick up Jamison.”

Savannah frowned. “Jamison’s in school.”

“Not anymore. He’s feeling puny. Hank’s picking him up, and I’m taking him back to my house for the day. What are you feeding that boy to give him so many stomachaches?”

Savannah would have to have another talk with Tammy, the school secretary. The school knew to call her first, but Tammy had a crush on Hank and jumped at any reason to call him. “That’s a question for Hank. He’s the one who never feeds Jamison a home-cooked meal.”

“Can’t hardly expect the man to be a chef when he’s working around the clock to keep his community safe with no woman at home to keep things running smooth. No, Savannah, that blame belongs to you, breaking up your family. Too damn bad it’s Jamison who suffers.”

Fury exploded in Savannah’s bloodstream. And, yeah, a hell of a lot of irrational guilt as well. She took one step toward Lyle before Misty cut her off, sliding a cup of coffee in front of him and saving the man from Savannah’s impotent rage.

“Karen just finished a batch of cinnamon rolls,” Misty told Lyle, drawing his attention. “Would you like to take a couple with you?”

Savannah turned for the kitchen and blew past the café’s owner, who was busy baking. She moved down a hallway leading to the employee bathroom, where she ran the water while she fisted her hands and clenched her teeth.

Almost over. Almost over. It’s almost over.

She splashed her face and kept her eyes closed as she imagined the sweet little bungalow she’d been eyeing in Missoula, almost two hundred miles away. Just far enough to get out from under Hank’s scrutiny, but close enough to allow twice-monthly weekend visits for Jamison.

She and her son would finally have the opportunity to make real friends. She could take him to a therapist without worrying about bias and brainwashing. They would be free to go to the grocery store or a movie without a deputy watching their every move.

But how she and Jamison would travel that bridge terrified her. And that stoked her fury. A fury she held on to with both hands. Without anger, she’d slide into fear. And fear paralyzed.

Tags: Skye Jordan Manhunters Romance
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