“Thanks for this.” Max gestured toward the boxes.

  “We all need some food. Go ahead and dig in.”

  “We’re not waiting for Sloan?” Della asked.

  “I haven’t heard back from my text yet.” Even as he said it, something about the total lack of response bothered him and Chase hit the screen on his phone, reaffirming nothing had come in. “Let me go call her.”

  Two minutes later, with nothing but her voice mail to show for it, Chase stared at Della, Max and Greg. “I’m not sure where she is.”

  Greg didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go over there.”

  “She—”

  Chase stopped, the swirl of fear only spiking harder in his chest. “She’ll think we’re out of our minds if we show up, guns blazing.”

  “So?” Max said, already reaching for his keys on the counter.

  He’d worry later if it was an overreaction to the stress of the past few days.

  In that moment, all Chase wanted was to see Sloan and hold her in his arms.

  “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  The desperate need for water was all Sloan could think of as she awakened on a hard exhale.

  Where was she?

  That thought struck hard, with another swiftly following.

  What had happened to her?

  She struggled to a sitting position, her hands bound in front of her. She leaned to her side and used them as leverage to move onto her knees before struggling to stand, trying to figure out where she was.

  Her stomach turned over violently and she stood still for a moment, the quick movements to stand so soon after coming awake nearly causing her body to revolt. With deep breaths, she gave herself a moment, even as her mind raced with the implications.

  Who was that man at her door?

  The Ever After Church.

  Although she had no proof, she’d bet anything that man was affiliated with the church, even as she struggled to figure out who he might be. He wasn’t one of the leaders—of that, she was certain. Something tugged at the back of her mind, fighting for her attention through the nausea, and she stilled once more, trying to remember.

  The kindly face. The gray hair. The hat.

  What was it about the hat?

  A shaft of light streamed in through the window, the late-afternoon sun a vivid yellowish red as it illuminated the room.

  Was she still in Owl Creek?

  Since it had been about four when she’d headed into her bedroom to pack, she estimated she couldn’t have been out that long, especially if it was still light out.

  But...

  “Hello.”

  She glanced toward the door, her pulse spiking at the intrusion.

  What did he want with her? Because attacking her and drugging her in her home wasn’t the act of someone who simply wanted to chat.

  Which meant she needed to get as much information as she could as fast as she could, all while figuring a way out of this. Chase had no way of knowing where she was, and nor did anyone else, for that matter.

  She was going to need to get through this on her own.

  “Did you sleep okay?”

  Sloan considered how to play this, especially since the man clutched his hat in his hands, twisting it back and forth.

  “What?”

  “Did you sleep okay or did I use too much?”

  The pounding in her head suggested that yes, he’d used too much. But she heard the vague concern in his tone and decided to try and use it to her advantage.

  She had precious little to fight with, so she was going to need to use her wits as much as any physical advantages she could find.

  “I’m okay.”

  “You’re a little thing. It’s never easy to judge.”

  Under other circumstances, she’d have thought a statement like that was designed to be a compliment, but all she got from him was an overwhelming sense of fact.

  And a sort of resigned purpose in what he was doing.

  “Why did you do that at all?”

  “You’ve been bad.”

  “I’ve been what?”

  “You’ve got those fancy computers and are using ’em to spy on people.”

  Had he walked through her home? Worse, did he know her, somehow?

  Speaking softly, she tried to delicately step her way through this one.

  “I’m visiting Owl Creek for work. I needed my computer with me to do my job.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I run a consulting business.”

  He eyed her suspiciously, his easy tone fading on a sneer. “Fancy words for computer hacker.”

  “Everyone uses computers.”

  “To do bad things! How’d you think I got back in touch with good ol’ Mikey?”

  “Mike Arnold.” The name came out on a hard exhale as the puzzle pieces she was struggling to work through snapped firmly into place. “Which means you’re Jasper. Jasper Miles.”

  Sloan suddenly realized that she’d overstepped at the use of his name.

  Especially when he moved toward her, something scary and oddly fervent building in his eyes, a gun appearing in his hand.

  Chapter 18

  Chase stepped on the second-floor landing in front of Sloan’s apartment. The panic that had spiked off and on during the quick drive over from the ranch was now going nuclear.

  The door to her apartment was open and Waffles raced around the entryway, obviously agitated.

  He bent down to pick up the small cat, cradling him close and trying to soothe him as Max and Greg followed him inside.

  “She’s gone,” Max said after a quick search of the apartment.

  “Taken.” Chase spit out the word. “She was taken right here.”

  He held tight to the cat, the animal a sudden lodestone as the absolute pain of responsibility hammered his body with hard, punishing blows.

  He’d done this.

  He’d pulled her into this mess and put her in danger.

  Just like Rick and Wendy, Sloan was going to pay far too high a price for his damned insistence on looking into the Ever After Church and his aunt’s involvement.

  “Chase!”

  Max’s tone was insistent as he stood across the room. “We’re going to find her. But first, I need you to help me look through her things. We need to find something.”

  Chase had never felt so helpless in all his life.

  Not the day he knew his marriage was over. Not the day his father had his stroke. Not even the day he’d discovered his father’s betrayal and lies.

  Nothing compared to the abject pain of knowing he’d done this to her.

  “I found a cell phone!” Greg hollered as he headed back out of the bedroom.

  “She doesn’t even have her phone?” Chase didn’t know her password, but he extended a hand for the phone as Greg walked over.

  “This might work to our advantage,” Max said, moving closer. “Anyone who would have taken her would likely have ditched the phone.”

  “It won’t do any good if we can’t hold it up with her and use facial recognition to open it,” Greg muttered.

  “She doesn’t use it,” Chase said, one of their date-night conversations coming back to him.

  “Why not?”

  “She gave a host of reasons that seemed scary at the time, but she said that she only uses a passcode.”

  “Any chance you know what it is?” Max asked.

  “No.” Chase nearly tossed the phone, but something lit the face before he could heave it away.

  Curious, he brought it close, his gaze narrowing in on the alert that flashed on the screen.

  “What is it?” Max asked.

  “I think—” Chase stilled, hardly daring to hope this was as good a sign as he thought it might be.

  “Let me see.” Max took the phone, his movements gentle as he tilted the device in his hand. “Damn, that woman is amazing.”

  The comment was part reverence, part awe, and Greg pressed for details. “We all think that. What’s this about?”

  “She’s got a GPS tracker somewhere on her person,” Max said.

  Chase held the cat close, the small animal now calm. He took heart from that calmness and desperately fought to believe the cat’s faith in his arrival meant he had faith he’d see his owner again, too.

  He took his first easy breath as his gaze remained on the phone screen. “Which means we can find her.”

  * * *

  “How’d you know who I was?” Jasper practically quivered where he stood, far too close for comfort in front of her. “Those damn devil devices again?”

  “I only looked at your social-media pages.”

  “What?”

  If the situation wasn’t so dire, she might have laughed at his confusion. As it was, his abstract inability to link his social feed with how he was found wasn’t information she was going to share. Instead, she pressed the very small advantage she had at his confusion.

  “All your posts about faith and peace. They really spoke to me.”

  “My faith keeps me going.”

  “A testament to your leader, I’m sure. The Ever After Church is doing very good work.”

  His eyes flashed once again, that fervent madness filling his irises, and Sloan’s stomach sunk.

  Damn, she’d overplayed her hand.

  A point that didn’t play out, as he nodded, his smile wide. “People don’t understand that. They don’t know all the good that our leader does. But the church is a haven. A home.”

  “A place of safety.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are we here? Why didn’t you bring me there?”

  “I can’t allow you to soil my home.”

  “I—”

  That deep, fervent conviction was back, only this time the menace was being telegraphed loud and clear.

  “The evils of technology have you in their grip. You don’t believe in us. You won’t believe in us.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Oh, yes, I do. Because if you did believe, you’d never have gone to talk to that traitor Rick Kraft.”

  Pure, undiluted fear beat through her body.

  Whatever she’d hoped or believed, conversation was not going to get her out of this. Conciliatory remarks or interested chatter weren’t the keys to her escape.

  The only way out of here, Sloan knew with absolute certainty, was through Jasper and his gun.

  Which was why she didn’t give herself another moment to think. Whatever determination Jasper had to take her wasn’t going to be assuaged by her outsmarting him.

  Without another word, she charged.

  Head low.

  Shoulders braced.

  Everything she had focused on ramming into him and dislodging the gun in his hand.

  * * *

  The GPS device on Sloan continued to beat, their homing beacon as Max flew through the streets of Owl Creek toward the edge of town.

  Although he had no way of getting into her device, the GPS pinged alert, appearing on Sloan’s phone screen with each mile they got closer. They used a mix of the technology itself and Chase’s knowledge of Owl Creek to assess where she was.

  It was only as they got closer to the lake at the edge of town that Chase knew the spot.

  “The old caretaker’s cabin. Down along the lake.”

  “The one that’s been up for demo for a few years?” Greg asked.

  “One and the same.” Chase considered the small hut. While he’d believed it an eyesore for some time, the city had control over the place and hadn’t seen fit to approve its demolition yet.

  He was going to kiss someone at the next town-council meeting if that lack of foresight was what saved Sloan.

  Max slowed as he pulled into the graveled parking lot that abutted the lake. They saw an old truck at the end of the parking lot.

  The phone flashed once more, and Chase knew they were close. “She’s here.”

  Max and Greg both had guns, retrieved from the glove box. Chase had briefly considered asking for one of them, but knew he was a businessman, not a gunslinger. Max was well-trained and Greg carried around the ranch to ensure he was safe from dangerous wildlife.

  He rode a desk all day.

  Right now, Sloan needed protection and he wasn’t sure he could remain steady enough, anyway.

  But he was the first one out of the car, moving gently over the gravel to avoid making noise.

  He needed to get to her. It was his only focus.

  His only goal.

  But as a gunshot filled the air, he didn’t wait, or give a care for quiet.

  He took off hell-for-leather for the old cabin.

  * * *

  Sloan struggled against the solid weight that seemed to hold her in place, nearly pushing her back, even as she pressed and drove herself into the solid mass of flesh over and over again.

  Through.

  She had to get through Jasper in order to get away from him.

  The heavy sound of a gunshot echoed above her head, the noise so loud she nearly fell to her feet from the sheer power of it, but still, she held her ground.

  Her hands were still bound, but she kicked and pushed and even used her teeth at one point to keep fighting.

  To get away.

  And then, there was no obstacle.

  No push of flesh.

  Instead, there was another loud shot as all the counterforce against her simply vanished, her foe falling to the floor.

  Sloan glanced around, her gaze wild as she sought out the new threat, panic spiking once more as she took in three large forms. A scream welled just as her understanding broke through the fear and adrenaline.

  Chase.

  He was there.

  And he’d brought reinforcements, in Max and Greg. Max was already moving toward Jasper, kicking the man’s gun out of the way while Greg stood at the door, his own gun firmly in hand.

  But it was Chase who came to her.

  Who pulled her tight against him.

  Who spoke to her through the angry ringing in her ears that seemed to fill up her head.

  He was here.

  And she was safe.

  It was her last thought as she broke into a sob against his chest.

  * * *

  Chase held Sloan tight against his chest and let her cry it out. Hard, unrelenting shakes ripped through her body, and he held on, helping her through it, crooning mindless words to see her through.

  To see himself through.

  His own adrenaline rush was still sky-high, coursing through him in wild spikes of energy, but he held it at bay.

  He’d break down later.

  When he thought of how close he’d come to losing her...

  And how ridiculous he’d been for all these years in pushing away the possibility of love.

  He’d recognized it the moment they’d met, that first time he’d held her in his arms. And for so much of the time since he’d run from it, convinced his head knew better. Convinced he’d had his shot and ruined it.

  But now, as the woman he loved huddled against him, gathering herself as the storm of emotion burned itself out, he knew just how foolish he’d been.

  And how deeply grateful fate had given him a second chance.

  Her eyes were red-rimmed as she stared up at him. “You came.”

  “I’d have hunted for you to the ends of the earth, but I have to thank you for making it a heck of a lot easier on me.”

  “Easy?” Confusion filled her features, then something dawned bright and clear in her eyes. “The tracker.”

  “You’re a technology wiz, woman. It’s amazing.”

  “I was going to put it in my suitcase and Waffles came in.”

  “He loves you, by the way. And he was beside himself you’d been taken.”

  She smiled then, and Chase knew there’d be more than enough time to tell her what had happened. How they’d come to her apartment. How Greg had found her phone and how he’d found the cat, agitated beyond measure until he knew there were people there to go after his mistress.

  Later, Chase thought. There’d be time enough for it all later.

  Right now, there was only time for one thing. And as he stared down at her, he felt the power of each and every word.

  More, he leaned into that power and reveled at all he’d found.

  “I love you, Sloan.”

  He saw the spark of happiness fill her eyes, even as her face remained set in wary lines. “I thought you weren’t cut out for love. Isn’t that why we cooked up a fake relationship in the first place?”

  “Turns out I’m a dumb businessman with a fear complex over putting myself on the line. And I guess a fake relationship was just what I needed to take the pressure off.”

  “And now?”

  “I only want what’s real, Sloan. With you. Forever.”

  The smile that lit her eyes filled her face, transforming her before his eyes. Her smile was warm. Welcoming. And wide open to that forever he spoke of.

  “I love you, Chase Colton. Make it real. With me.”

  “I’d like nothing more. Every day for the rest of my life.”

  And as he bent his head, pressing his lips to hers, Chase knew he was the luckiest of men.

  He’d believed himself incapable of loving again.

  How wonderful to be so utterly, absolutely, mind-bindingly wrong.

  * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Murder at the Alaskan Lodge by Karen Whiddon.

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  Danger. Passion. Drama.