Free Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series) by Tracie Ingersoll Loy

they called it quits and headed back to the marina. The chill of being out on the water got to them. The first thing Jack did when he climbed into his Chevy Tahoe was crank up his heated seats to high. He followed Kip out of the marina and down the road until they came to a fork. Kip veered left, and Jack went right. Surrounded by trees and darkness, Jack cut the speed, looking for the row of dilapidated mail boxes. Catching sight of the rusted, leaning boxes, he turned onto Blue Heron lane and stopped. Now that he knew someone was at Armstrong’s, he needed to take precautions. He was tired, and the most he felt like doing was flipping off his bright lights and shielding his face when he passed the rental drive.
    He bounced down the dirt drive and across the little creek. Jack thought about all the times he and Mike had snuck up to the island, thinking Mike’s parents would never catch them. They always did. He parked the SUV under the covered parking area and grabbed his overnight bag with the attached sleeping bag and then headed to the house. Jack had swung by earlier and picked up the keys from the real estate agent who kept an eye on the property. The agent had offered to come over and turn on the electricity, but Jack had nixed the idea. Mike had upgraded the water heater to the European style of heat on demand, so by the time Jack flipped on the circuit breaker for the house, walked into the kitchen, and laid out his stuff, the water was hot. He looked forward to the long shower.
    Once inside the house, Jack didn’t bother with any lights but headed down the hallway to the bedrooms. He stopped first at the bathroom to turn on the shower and then went into the bedroom. He placed his Sig P229 and his badge on the nightstand along with his wallet. It had been some time since he’d done any fieldwork, and his agents had been complaining the P229 was too big. He had to agree. Jack still preferred his Glock over the Sig from his SEAL days.
    He rolled out the sleeping bag and then stripped down, quickly heading to the shower. Within minutes the tension eased from his broad shoulders, the hot water pounded his backside. Jack twisted and turned to loosen his muscles. Trying to ignore the ache and cramp in his right knee, he adjusted the shower head to pound away on all the scars. His doctors had recommended knee replacement, but he wasn’t ready. Still emotionally attached to this knee that had cost him his University of Washington Husky football scholarship and then later his Navy SEAL position, Jack wasn’t having anything replaced. In truth, it was the fear of the knife.
    Finished, he toweled off his hair. He flipped off the light, opened the door, and stepped into the dark hallway. His body tensed, not so much from the cool air attacking him, but from the sounds in the kitchen. Jack swore he heard someone curse. Definitely a drawer opened and then closed. Stepping back into the bathroom, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, then slipped into the first bedroom, behind the door. He listened and watched through the cracked door. Jack guessed it was some dumbass kid looking for stuff to sell to support a drug habit. He would find out soon enough.

    Something had woken her. Her heart raced. Had she been followed here or was it just a bad dream? Now fully awake, Cassie flipped over on her back and listened to the sounds of silence, trying to figure out what it could have been. And then she heard it again; the whir of the refrigerator motor coming on. How could that be? Mystified, she peeked over the top of the high-backed sofa, but everything looked the same.
    Still unsure, Cassie moved swiftly to the wall that hugged the kitchen and peeked around it. Other than the sound of the refrigerator, nothing had changed. Doubting her brain function, Cassie reached over the half-wall and opened the refrigerator door. The light blinded her. She jerked back and swore, then shut it quickly. Had her brother installed