Contents

  Also by Barbara Freethy

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  What to read next…

  An Invitation…

  About the Author

  Also by Barbara Freethy

  FBI SERIES: STRIKE TEAM EAST

  BURN EVERY BRIDGE

  CROSS THAT LINE

  * * *

  OFF THE GRID: FBI SERIES

  PERILOUS TRUST

  RECKLESS WHISPER

  DESPERATE PLAY

  ELUSIVE PROMISE

  DANGEROUS CHOICE

  RUTHLESS CROSS

  CRITICAL DOUBT

  FEARLESS PURSUIT

  DARING DECEPTION

  RISKY BARGAIN

  PERFECT TARGET

  FATAL BETRAYAL

  DEADLY TRAP

  LETHAL GAME

  SHATTERED TRUTH

  * * *

  Have you read the Lightning Strikes Series?

  * * *

  Lightning Strikes Trilogy

  BEAUTIFUL STORM

  LIGHTNING LINGERS

  SUMMER RAIN

  For a complete list of books, visit Barbara’s Website!

  BURN EVERY BRIDGE

  A series of explosions. A city on edge. And two people with more to lose than they’ll ever admit…

  * * *

  FBI Agent Kara Reid is new to the FBI Strike Team East—an elite unit built to move fast and take on the Bureau’s most dangerous cases. When a precision blast disrupts the streets of Manhattan, what begins as a search for answers quickly spirals into something far more personal—and far more dangerous.

  * * *

  Max Malone walked away from the CIA years ago. He’s kept his distance, stayed quiet, and left the past buried. But this case is pulling him back in, whether the FBI wants his help or not.

  * * *

  As the attacks grow bolder and the clock ticks down, Kara and Max are forced into a fragile alliance—one built on secrets, suspicion, and a shared need to stop a threat that’s bigger than either of them imagined. The danger is closing in, the targets are getting personal, and every lead takes them deeper into a deadly game where trust is a liability… and failure isn’t an option.

  * * *

  Sometimes the only way to move forward… is to burn every bridge behind you.

  BURN EVERY BRIDGE

  © Copyright 2026 Barbara Freethy

  All Rights Reserved

  * * *

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  For more information: http://www.barbarafreethy.com

  Chapter One

  Something felt wrong.

  Kara couldn't pinpoint what it was—just a prickle at the base of her skull, the kind of instinct that had kept her alive through eight years on the NYPD and a year working for the FBI.

  With her phone at her ear, her friend Jess rambling on about the challenges of being a new mom, she shifted her feet as she waited in line to order a coffee at the very busy counter of Brew & Mortar, a café near the courthouse where she'd just dropped off her final report for 26 Fed, the Manhattan FBI office that had been her home since she'd become an agent. But today started a new chapter.

  Everything looked normal. The morning crowd was a mix of suited executives grabbing coffee on their way into the office, a couple of NYU students hunched over computers, and a trio of forty-something women who looked like they'd just finished a yoga class. The espresso machine hissed and gurgled behind the counter, while the barista called out orders in a steady rhythm. Outside the window, the January sky was gray, with foreboding clouds pressing down on the city.

  "Honestly, Kara, I don't know how anyone survives on three hours of sleep," Jess said, drawing Kara's attention back to the phone. "Lily was up every two hours last night, and Brad somehow slept through all of it."

  Kara smiled despite the unease crawling up her spine. "Despite sounding tired, Jess, you also sound happy."

  "I am. I just can't stop staring at my beautiful baby. My old life as a cop seems very far away. Now I'm a realtor and a mom. How things have changed! But let's talk about your life changes. I can't believe you're already moving on to a special elite FBI team. It's very impressive, even for an overachiever like you."

  "I'm excited to work for a smaller team that can move fast and without so much oversight," she admitted.

  "Well, you were the smartest cop I ever worked with."

  "Not everyone shared your opinion."

  "Because they put loyalty above integrity, but that's all behind you now."

  "Thank God! Hang on. I need to order." She lowered her phone as she ordered her usual coffee and then stepped aside to wait for her coffee.

  It was crowded in the café, especially at this end of the counter, and a woman in a very expensive, tight-fitting black suit gave her a dark look as she encroached on her space, immediately moving away.

  She put her phone back to her ear. "I'm back."

  "So, what's your first case going to be?" Jess asked.

  "Not sure yet. I'm eager to find out. The agents I've met so far seem impressive, and my new boss, Jason Colter, even more so. He came from a very successful elite team run out of LA, and he's modeling this team on that one. That unit has had tremendous success, so fingers crossed."

  "It sounds great, and I think the team is lucky to have you."

  Jess had always been a great cheerleader. They'd partnered together for two years until Jess got married and pregnant. Their lives were very different now, but if there was one person she could always count on to be in her corner, it was Jess. At the sound of a baby's cry, she said, "I think Lily is awake."

  "And hungry. I'd better go."

  "Give that sweet baby a kiss for me."

  "I will."

  As Kara slipped her phone into the outer pocket of her crossbody bag, the woman in the suit moved to the counter to get her drink, only to collide with a middle-aged man, who splashed his coffee, heavily laden with whipped cream, onto her sleeve.

  She gasped in dismay, anger flaring in her eyes. "Watch where you're going."

  "Sorry," the man muttered. "I didn't see you. Uh, do you need a napkin or something?"

  "Just get out of my way." The woman grabbed her coffee from the counter, along with a pile of napkins, and headed toward the restroom.

  The man shrugged and left. As he moved through the door, another man entered. Wearing black jeans and a black wool coat over a gray sweater, he appeared to be in his mid-thirties and had wavy, dark-brown hair and a very attractive face. His confident gaze swept the room for a long minute. Then he frowned and left. He must have been looking for someone. She couldn't imagine anyone standing that guy up.

  Hearing her name called, she turned her attention away from the door and picked up her coffee. She took one sip and sighed in pleasure. Her morning coffee always tasted great, and the caffeine kick got her ready for the day.

  As she stepped outside and onto the sidewalk, the world suddenly exploded behind her, a blast of heat throwing her to the ground. She landed hard, the concrete slamming into her palms and knees as glass and debris rained down on her head.

  For a moment, there was nothing but white noise, the taste of copper in her mouth, and mind-spinning confusion.

  Then the screaming started.

  She forced her eyes open. Smoke poured from the shattered windows of Brew & Mortar, thick and black, and through the haze she could see flames licking at the counter, spreading fast. People stumbled out to the sidewalk, coughing and bleeding.

  She needed to get up, to move, to help.

  She pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking, but determination gave her strength. As she moved through the open space where the door had been, the smoke was worse than she'd expected, choking and hot, burning her throat with every breath.

  A table had overturned near the entrance, trapping a young woman. Her face was streaked with blood.

  "Can you move?" She dropped to her knees, already assessing the situation. The girl was conscious but disoriented.

  "I—I think so—" the girl stuttered.

  She shoved the table aside, then pulled the girl to her feet and helped her outside, running into the good-looking man who had come into the café, then left.

  "Do you need help?" he asked.

  "There are more people in there," she returned as he moved past her.

  There were a dozen or so people in the street, some bleeding, some burned, everyone dazed and terrified. Thankfully, fire engines a
nd ambulances were arriving. She handed the girl off to a paramedic and then turned to go back into the building, but a firefighter blocked her way.

  "We've got this," he told her.

  As they went into the burning structure, the man she'd seen before came out of the smoke, his arm around a barista, who was crying but didn't appear to be too badly hurt.

  Feeling helpless, she looked around the scene, wondering how she could best help, but before she could move, a firefighter ran down the sidewalk toward her. When she saw her Uncle Danny, wearing his turnout gear and chief's hat, his warm brown eyes filled with concern, she almost lost it.

  "Kara? Were you inside?" he asked in shock.

  "I'd just left," she said, pulling herself together.

  "You're hurt. You're bleeding."

  "It's nothing."

  He ignored her comment, flagging down a paramedic. "She needs to get checked out," he ordered.

  "I said I'm fine." But even as she protested, she could feel the sting of cuts on her hands, the ache in her shoulder, the pain in her knees from where she'd hit the ground.

  The paramedic had her sit down on the curb while her uncle went back to work on the fire.

  "Any trouble breathing? Dizziness? Ringing in your ears?" the paramedic asked as she checked her blood pressure and oxygen levels.

  "No. Yes. A little." Kara let the paramedic work, too tired to argue, and her gaze drifting back to the café.

  Brew & Mortar was a disaster. The windows were blown out, smoke was still pouring from the interior, and while the fire was easing now, it had destroyed the interior in only a few minutes. As her gaze moved away from the building, she noted that the street had been cordoned off, with police cruisers blocking traffic, and a growing crowd of onlookers pressed against the barriers.

  She scanned the crowd for the man in the wool coat, but she didn't see him anywhere. She didn't really know why she was looking for him. Although it was strange that he'd entered the café, left quickly, then returned after the explosion. It probably meant nothing. It was just her years of investigative training making her suspicious of any action that seemed out of sync.

  "Your oxygen levels are good," the paramedic said. "But you should go to the hospital, get checked out properly⁠—"

  "I'm fine. Please help the others. I'm okay."

  As the paramedic left, she got to her feet, feeling more aches and pains now that the adrenaline surge was wearing off. Her throat felt dry and raw, but she was lucky not to be more seriously injured. She'd seen a few people loaded into ambulances who hadn't looked very good.

  Pulling her phone from her bag, which was thankfully still hanging around her neck, she called her boss.

  "Colter," he said crisply.

  "Jason, it's Kara," she said, her voice shakier than she'd expected.

  "You don't sound good. What's going on?"

  "There was an explosion in a café by the courthouse. I was just leaving when it happened."

  "Are you injured?"

  "No, but there are casualties, at least a dozen. I'm going to stay here and see what I can find out, if that's okay with you. I don't know if it was a gas line or a bomb, but it's bad."

  "Call me back when you know more."

  "I will." As she put her phone away, she saw the firefighters beginning to shut down as the fire was basically out. Since the urgency of the scene had diminished, she moved down the street to speak to her uncle.

  Danny Reid gave her a sharp look. "Are you okay?"

  "Yes. I told you I was. Do you know what happened?"

  "There appeared to be an explosive device in a trash can outside the door to the restroom."

  His words confirmed her suspicions. "I had a feeling, but I was hoping it was an accident. Are there any fatalities?"

  "One woman was in critical condition. She was pulled from the restroom. A few others with burns, but it could have been worse. Fortunately, the explosive was limited in range." He paused. "Is this incident tied to a case you're working on?"

  "No. I just stopped in for coffee."

  "You were lucky, Kara. I almost had a heart attack when I saw you." He shook his head, his lips tight.

  She put a hand on his arm, seeing the concern in his brown eyes and knowing that it came from a promise he'd made her father a very long time ago. "I'm fine, Uncle Danny."

  "You might not have been."

  "But I am."

  He gave her an assessing look, then slowly nodded. "Okay. I need to get back to work. Take care of yourself."

  "I will."

  As she turned away, she saw two FBI agents approaching the scene, Monica Greer and Cy Barash, who worked explosives response. She'd been on violent crimes the past year, so their paths had crossed a few times.

  Monica gave her a look of surprise. "What are you doing here, Reid?"

  "I was getting coffee. I had just left when the bomb went off."

  "That's lucky. Do you know anything about the explosive?"

  "It was placed in a trash can next to the restroom."

  "Did you see anything? Anyone running from the scene? Watching the fire afterwards?" Agent Barash asked.

  "No, I didn't see anything. The police have been talking to witnesses. Hopefully, one of them saw something."

  "We'll coordinate with NYPD. Glad you're okay." Monica paused. "And good luck with Colter's group. He's a good guy. I worked with him a few years ago."

  "Nice to hear," she said as Monica and Cy went to talk to the NYPD incident commander, Captain Lisa Rodriguez. She wanted to join them, but she wasn't working for 26 Fed anymore, and it was time to get to her actual job.

  Hopefully, this explosion was a one-off and not the beginning of something more.

  An hour later, after stopping at her apartment to shower and change clothes, Kara drove to her new team headquarters, a three-story building in Murray Hill. The central location made it easy to respond to issues anywhere in the city, but far enough away from 26 Fed to maintain its own independence. There was no sign on the building, nothing to draw attention to their existence, as their team would operate covertly when needed.

  After parking in the underground garage, she used a biometric scanner to enter the elevator and a fingerprint scan to take it to the third floor. When the doors opened on an unimpressive hallway, she walked down the corridor and used another biometric scanner to enter through the double doors leading into the office suite. Inside, there was a reception desk with a computer and a phone, but it was more for appearances than anything else.

  She entered through another armed door, arriving in the open-concept office space with eight desks in the central bullpen and two glass-walled offices at one end, with a large conference room that looked over the city.

  There were two agents at their desks: Natalie Ramon, an agent who'd recently transferred from an office in Latin America, and Zane McDougal, a former Wall Street exec with a background in financial crimes. Natalie was on the phone, and Zane was on his computer. She set her bag down on her desk and headed toward the conference room, where she could see Jason Colter standing in front of the monitors, while Alina Volkov and Tyler Brennan sat at the table.

  Jason was in his mid-thirties, tall and fit with brown hair and light-blue eyes. He had literally been born into the FBI. His grandfather and father had both risen to the top levels of the bureau, but Jason had chosen a less politically ambitious path, refusing to rely on his last name to get him ahead. He'd come up through the trenches, and in the past year, he had closed some big cases, leading to his new post as director of Strike Team East.