Free Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #2 by Dana Mentink, Tammy Johnson, Michelle Karl Page B

a man.
    â€œYour sister would have been proud of you, I think.”
    She was dismayed to find that his words triggered tears that she quickly blinked away, and went for her camera. “I have to go take pictures.”
    â€œNow?”
    â€œI didn’t get the shot of the great horned owl, remember? I’m actually getting paid for delivering pictures of raptors in action, and if you don’t meet your deadline, well, they don’t call back, you know?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.” He stood. “Let’s go.”
    â€œI can...”
    â€œGo yourself and you don’t want me mucking up your shot, yes, I know.”
    â€œBut you’re coming anyway?”
    He answered with a shrug.
    â€œSeriously,” she said. “If you’re going to follow me everywhere, can you at least string some sentences together and stop calling me ma’am?”
    He considered. “I’m familiar with bird photography. If you ever want some amazing bald eagle pictures, our Hudson Raptor Sanctuary is the place to go.”
    â€œWow. Two full sentences. That must have taken a lot out of you.” She admired the note of pride that had crept into his voice. “Can you stay out of my way tonight?”
    He nodded, and she frowned. “Sorry. I meant to answer with ‘I will endeavor to do that, ma’am.’” He gave her a mock salute.
    â€œI’ll get my jacket.” She went to the back bedroom. Though she wanted to tell him no, to have him depart and leave her raw emotions to heal, she wasn’t eager to go prowling around in the dark, and the aggravating, silent man was the only way she would get her pictures tonight. The feel of Tucker’s knife at her throat made her shiver.
I want what’s mine
. “For Junie, just until we catch him,” she told herself.
    Her little bedroom was cold, always prone to drafts that required several tatty blankets to offset and still left her needing to wear woolly socks at night. Funny how when Junie stayed over, they snuggled together and the chill didn’t seem to bother them. With a sigh, she moved to close the heavy curtains that muffled the cold. It took her a moment to realize the shadow looming in the glass was not from her own approach. Keeley screamed. The gleam of light from a pair of eyes shone in the darkness.

SEVEN
    M ick heard a cry from Keeley and he was in motion, sprinting down the hallway, arriving just as something punched through the glass with a loud crack. He had no time to do anything other than put his body between hers and the window in case something else was going to follow. Shards of glass rained down on the flooring. The bottle projectile broke, the flaming rag inside ignited the gasoline with which the bottle had been filled. Flames spilled across the flooring, heading for pillows stacked in the corner.
    He shoved her to the door. “Get the fire extinguisher from the kitchen.”
    Despite the shock, she did not hesitate, pounding away down the hall. He kicked the pillows far from the approaching flames, coughing against the acrid gasoline fumes. Pulling the blankets off the bed, he tossed them away.
    The fumes stung his eyes, flames undulating like predators looking for something to devour.
    Keeley returned, thrust the extinguisher at him, and he tried to douse the fire. At first the flames resisted, but Mick had decided this fire was not going to win. He stubbornly went at it, approaching so closely the flames singed the tips of his boots and his face felt like a well-done fillet.
    Finally, the fire relented. When it was down to a bare flicker he shoved the extinguisher back at Keeley. “Stay here and keep watch.”
    She nodded, eyes enormous.
    â€œYou okay?” he could not stop himself from adding.
    â€œUh-huh,” she breathed.
    â€œCall for help.” He made for the front of the house. No cars, no motorcycles. Staying low, he stuck to the shadows, moving as quickly