Boot prints.
I bend down to study the closest one. It’s not my boot. The tread’s all wrong. And it’s not big enough to be Dean’s.
Dread clamps around my throat as I follow the prints around the entire porch. Every footstep is perfectly preserved in the light dusting of snow that covers the porch.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. Bryson Clyde-Smith. It might be far-fetched but… this can’t be a coincidence.
You’re being paranoid, Grace.
Am I?
You were last night.
Was I?
I calmly pull out my cell and dial Dean.
He answers on the first ring. “You okay?”
“Someone came to my cabin last night.”
The silence lasts for a moment, then… “Get back to my house and stay there.”
“They’re not here anymore,” I quickly say.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, but…” My heart races a mile a minute. “The cabin’s flooded out. I don’t know what happened but the kitchen sink… the whole place is soaked.”
He’s silent for another few heartbeats. “It’s okay,” he says calmly. “Grace, listen to me. There’s a small closet to the left of the fridge.”
I scramble back inside and nearly slip on the icy floor to reach it. “Okay. I’m here.”
“Good girl. Now, see the red valve? Turn it off.”
“It’s stuck. Everything’s half frozen.”
“It’s okay,” he says, keeping his cool. “Try again for me.”
The sheer amount of determination I have stored up barrels out of me. The nubby valve bruises my fingers and palm from how hard I have to twist it. “Got it!”
“That’s my girl.”
I swear I hear his engine already, which is impossible.
“Now stay put. I’m on my way.”
Chapter 27
Dean
I knew better than to leave her—especially after my instincts screamed that something was wrong. My intuition has never steered me wrong before, so why the fuck did I ignore it today? I no sooner got onto the main road when I turned the truck around. By the time I did, she called.
The panic in Grace’s voice is something I never want to hear again.
My best cabin has been flooded. That problem doesn’t faze me at all. Not like it should. Because it doesn’t mean shit to the real threat, which is that someone was sneaking around my girl’s cabin in the middle of the night.
Working down the list of possible, reasonable explanations, I dial Nick.
