Free Stranger on Raven's Ridge by Jenna Ryan

normal.
    After delivering the blonde to one of her camping companions, Raven went in search of her great-grandfather. Rooney was perched on the rear fender of the Jeep with a cane propped between his legs and several people milling around him.
    “Doctor’s here,” he informed the gathering. He pointed from her to the people. “Patients are waiting.”
    “What? No, Grandpa, I can’t...”
    “Old Joe’s bringing bandages and warm water. We already got your medical bag out of the backseat.”
    Raven noted an assortment of cuts and scrapes, saw more blood than she cared to and, relenting, knelt to check her equipment. “I don’t suppose you found George in the backseat, as well.”
    Rooney made a rude sound. “Your so-called friend’s gone. Took my Dodge pickup. Didn’t ask, just took. But as long as he’s hightailing it back where he belongs, I say good riddance and keep the truck. He’s not your type, young Raven, not by a long shot.”
    “George isn’t important, Grandpa. What matters is...”
    “That our Aidan’s alive?” The old man chortled. “Hell, I saw that with my own eyes inside.”
    She stared at him as Joe piled clean cloths and bandages in her arms. “You saw him, and it didn’t strike you as odd?”
    “Doesn’t matter how it struck me, does it? What is, is. And right now, what is, is that these people need tending to. Nothing major, but if you want to set up shop in Raven’s Cove, tonight’s as good a time as any to dip your toe.”
    Absurd laughter tickled her throat. Could it get more unreal than this?
    Aidan, a “dead” man, was inside a waterfront bar doing battle with a trio of thieves. A red-eyed reverend had just issued her a freakish warning. She had no idea where Steven or Fergus Smith had gone, although she imagined Steven might be watching the big man. George, whom she’d trusted for years, had stolen a truck and very likely chatted with the infamous Johnny Demars. And now here she stood, in a shadow-filled parking lot, with residual thunder still rumbling overhead, a strange kind of silvery fog rolling off the ocean, and a dozen wounded people in need of minor medical attention.
    “Welcome to the Cove,” she muttered, and finished rummaging through her bag.
    She felt Aidan’s presence behind her a second before he said, “Is this what you call locking yourself in the Jeep?”
    Raven cast him a dry look. “Talk to Rooney.” Then she looked again in disbelief.
    His T-shirt was torn in three places. His hair had fallen over his forehead and into his eyes. He had a bruise on his cheekbone, a split lower lip, and the knuckles of his right hand were raw and bloody.
    It amazed her that she could summon a casual “No cavalry, huh? Just you and the three toughies.”
    He shook out his sore fingers. “The police chief left office in July and hasn’t been replaced yet. I’m told the deputy is indisposed and likely to remain so for several weeks.”
    She noticed that his eyes circled the parking lot before returning to hers. Standing, she brushed the hair from his face. Couldn’t help it. “You think Demars has someone here already, don’t you?”
    “I think he’s probably close.”
    “And when he gets here, he’ll do what Demars intended for him to do from the start.”
    Another visual circle. “We’ve had this conversation, Raven.”
    “No, we really haven’t.” Without looking back, she raised her voice to Rooney. “Tell everyone to line up, Grandpa. Most to least serious.” The crowd sorted itself in some order. “We only had the conversation where Demars wanted you dead. But I don’t think that’s how it was.” Although her stomach pitched, her voice remained dead calm. “Demars never planned to kill you, did he? He wanted you to live and suffer. It’s like ‘The Soldier’s Tale,’ Aidan. Not quite an eye for an eye, but close. You killed Demars’s son. In return, Johnny Demars was going to kill me.”

Chapter Six
    “Demars’s mother is