Chapter Six - Under His Protection
975 Words
Willow didn't remember reaching for her phone.
One second she was staring at the photograph lying on her kitchen table.
The next, she was dialing the Ashridge Sheriff's Office with trembling fingers.
"This is Sheriff Mason Cole."
"My... my house."
She struggled to find the words.
"Someone's been inside."
Twenty minutes later, flashing red and blue lights illuminated the quiet gravel driveway.
Sheriff Mason Cole, a broad-shouldered man in his early fifties, carefully examined the cabin while two deputies searched the surrounding property.
"There are no signs of forced entry," Mason said, removing his gloves.
"I know I turned that lamp off."
"I believe you."
He held up the envelope in an evidence bag.
"We'll dust it for fingerprints, but whoever did this knew what they were doing."
"What do you mean?"
"No footprints. No broken locks. No fingerprints."
His expression grew serious.
"This wasn't random."
Willow folded her arms tightly around herself.
"So someone followed me."
"I'm afraid that's exactly what it looks like."
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Across town...
The Iron Reapers clubhouse was unusually quiet.
Ryder "Grim" Romano sat alone in church, staring at the same accident file he'd read a dozen times.
Nothing made sense.
A stolen SUV.
A dead man who hadn't been driving.
Professional execution.
Then his phone rang.
It was Rocco.
"You sitting down?"
"I'm already sitting."
"I just got a call from one of my buddies at the sheriff's office."
Ryder straightened.
"What happened?"
"The trauma doc."
A cold feeling settled in his stomach.
"What about her?"
"Someone broke into her cabin."
Ryder was on his feet before Rocco finished speaking.
"What?"
"They left a message."
Without another word, Ryder grabbed his leather cut and headed for the door.
"Grim!" Hawk called after him.
"Where are you going?"
"Hospital."
"You think it's connected?"
Ryder didn't answer.
He already knew.
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Willow had returned to the hospital after giving her statement.
Sleep wasn't an option.
Not tonight.
She sat alone in the doctors' lounge, staring blankly into a mug of untouched coffee.
A soft knock sounded at the door.
"It's open."
Ryder stepped inside.
He took one look at her face and immediately knew.
She was frightened.
Trying desperately not to show it.
"I heard."
Willow looked up, surprised.
"The sheriff told you?"
"Rocco has friends."
She nodded silently.
Neither spoke for several moments.
Finally, Ryder pulled out the chair opposite her.
"You want to tell me what happened?"
She hesitated.
Then, for reasons she couldn't explain, the words came easier than expected.
"I got home..."
She slid the photograph across the table.
"The lights were on."
"They left this."
Ryder studied the image.
Then he turned it over.
You can't outrun the truth forever.
The muscles in his jaw flexed.
"This isn't a prank."
"I know."
"Has anyone threatened you before?"
Willow looked away.
"Not since Chicago."
He noticed the way her voice changed.
The hesitation.
The pain.
"What happened there?"
For a long moment, she simply stared at her hands.
"I trusted the wrong people."
"That's not what I asked."
She sighed.
"I performed emergency surgery on a city councilman's son after a construction collapse."
"You saved him?"
"I tried."
The words caught in her throat.
"He died on the operating table."
Ryder remained silent.
"The investigation cleared me completely."
She laughed bitterly.
"But that didn't stop people from needing someone to blame."
"My hospital suspended me."
"My fiancé left."
"My father believed the newspapers."
She finally met his eyes.
"So I left everything behind."
Ryder didn't offer sympathy.
He didn't tell her everything would be okay.
Instead, he simply said,
"I believe you."
Three words.
Simple.
Honest.
They shattered something inside her.
For over a year she'd been defending herself.
Explaining.
Begging people to believe the truth.
And here sat a man she'd known for less than a week...
Who believed her without asking for proof.
A tear escaped before she could stop it.
Embarrassed, she quickly wiped it away.
"I don't cry."
"You just did."
"I hate crying."
"I know."
She laughed softly through the tears.
"So observant."
"I notice things."
"Like what?"
He leaned back in his chair.
"You drink coffee until it goes cold."
"You skip meals."
"You rub the scar on your wrist whenever you're anxious."
Instinctively, Willow covered the faint scar with her sleeve.
She hadn't even realized she was doing it.
"You see too much."
"It's my job."
"No."
She smiled faintly.
"I think it's just who you are."
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An hour later...
Sheriff Mason walked into the lounge carrying the evidence bag.
"We've got something."
Willow stood immediately.
"What?"
"The cabin's security camera."
"I didn't know there was one."
"The landlord installed it years ago."
He placed a tablet on the table.
The grainy footage showed a hooded figure entering the cabin just before sunset.
The face was hidden.
But just before leaving...
The figure stopped.
Looked directly into the camera.
And smiled.
Even through the poor-quality footage, the smile sent a chill down Willow's spine.
Sheriff Mason paused the video.
"We're circulating the image."
Ryder stared at the screen.
Something about the man's posture...
The way he moved...
It felt familiar.
"I've seen him before."
Both Willow and Mason looked at him.
"You know who he is?"
Ryder slowly shook his head.
"No."
"But I know he's not working alone."
As they watched the frozen image on the screen, none of them noticed another vehicle parked across the street from the hospital.
Inside, a man lowered a camera with a telephoto lens.
He'd photographed every moment between Ryder and Willow.
Every conversation.
Every glance.
Every smile.
He picked up his phone.
"They're getting close."
A distorted voice answered.
"Good."
"Then it's time."
"Bring Romano into this."
The line went dead.
The game had changed.
And neither Willow nor Ryder realized they had just become targets in the very same hunt
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