On the Chase

by Katie Ruggle

  ALSO BY KATIE RUGGLE

  ROCKY MOUNTAIN SEARCH & RESCUE

  On His Watch (free novella)

  Hold Your Breath

  Fan the Flames

  Gone Too Deep

  In Safe Hands

  After the End (free novella)

  ROCKY MOUNTAIN K9 UNIT

  Run to Ground

  On the Chase

  Thank you for purchasing this eBook.

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  Copyright © 2017 by Katie Ruggle

  Cover and internal design © 2017 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover art by Kris Keller

  Internal art © RobHainer/Getty Images

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All brand names and product names used in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names of their respective holders. Sourcebooks, Inc., is not associated with any product or vendor in this book.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

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  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  A Sneak Peek of Survive the Night

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  To kick-ass women and girls everywhere. You’re the real-life heroines.

  Chapter 1

  “I don’t trust him.”

  Kaylee stared at her friend—her apparently insane friend. “How can you not trust him? Haven’t you seen his cheekbones? And those eyes? And pretty much his entire face? He looks like a freaking Disney prince. How can you not trust a Disney prince?”

  “Pretty is as pretty does,” Penny muttered, shoving dresses aside with a little too much force.

  Kaylee snorted, reaching toward the rack despite the risk of losing a finger to Penny’s violent sorting. She grabbed a dress and moved out of the closet so she could toss it on the growing pile on her bed. Not for the first time, Kaylee was grateful for her expansive walk-in closet. Not only did it hold her excessive amount of clothes and a truly extravagant number of shoes, but it also made it possible to give a wrathful Penny some space. The woman had pointy elbows and knew how to use them. “You’re channeling your grandma Nita again.”

  Yanking another dress off the rack, Penny used the hanger to point at Kaylee. “She’d totally agree with me on this. You’re blinded by hormones and can’t see that your prince is actually the villain—or at least the semi-villain. I deal with men like him every day. I know what I’m talking about.”

  Crossing her arms, Kaylee leaned her shoulder against the closet doorframe. “Do you think that maybe, just maybe, the guys you come into contact with at work are making you a little bitter and jaded? I mean, it’s an emergency women’s shelter. That’s a pretty skewed sample of the male population.”

  “I’m not bitter and jaded.” Penny paused before adding, “Not yet, at least. And I’m really good at spotting a toad in prince’s clothing. It’s my superpower.”

  Despite her best efforts at keeping Penny’s gloom and doom from darkening her mood, doubt tugged at Kaylee. Trying to hide her sudden frown, she turned to stare at the mound of dresses on the bed, a rainbow of silky fabrics and wonderful possibilities.

  The California sun streamed through the window, making the entire room glow and turning the white bedding silver around the edges. When she’d been searching for a condo two years ago, Kaylee’s top requirement had been light—a lot of it. After spending her childhood in a cramped Midwestern basement apartment, she couldn’t get enough sunlight. Her condo was everything her home growing up had not been—warm and bright and clean. She’d spent too many years cold, poor, and helpless, and she wasn’t going to go back to that…ever.

  The scrape of a hanger against the rod brought her back to the present.

  “It’s been so long since I found a good guy,” Kaylee said wistfully, keeping her gaze on the dresses. “They’re out there, though, and I need to believe that Noah is one of them. After all, he invited me to his uncle’s house, and the man pretty much raised Noah. A toad wouldn’t invite me home to meet his family, right? You just need to give him a chance.”

  Risking another glance at Penny, Kaylee hid a half smile. She knew that scowl. It meant her friend was seconds away from caving. “Please? Let me have my fairy tale for a few more dates? If he turns into a complete ass, then I’ll even let you say ‘I told you so’ while we throw darts at his picture—the really pointy, dangerous darts that they’ve banned in the U.S. because too many kids lost their eyeballs. Please?”

  “Fine,” Penny grumbled. Kaylee had known that she wouldn’t be able to resist. Besides peanut butter ice cream and motorcycles, Penny’s favorite thing in the world was being right—and getting to crow about it. Now if Noah could keep acting like the perfect boyfriend he’d promised to be, then Penny would be proven wrong, and Kaylee’s story could have a happy ending. “Here.” Penny thrust a dress toward Kaylee.

  “Oh, Penny…you’re the best!” As soon as she accepted the hanger, Kaylee knew it was the one. The dress was simple and elegant and just perfect. Pressing it against her front, she did a little spin, her happiness bubbling out of her. The dress felt silky and sinfully good under her hand, and she couldn’t help but remember all the thrift store hand-me-downs she’d had growing up—all the thin coats and musty-smelling boots and scratchy blankets that never managed to be warm enough. The memory of that bone-deep cold was the main reason she’d fought so hard to be here in California, a place where winter never came.

  Penny snorted a laugh. “What’s with the dress-dancing? Are you trying to be an ethnically ambiguous Sleeping Beauty right now? Since that makes me the helpful rodent, I’m not loving this theme.”

  “No,” Kaylee huffed, although she couldn’t hold a straight face. “You’re the twittery bird.” Grinning, she dodged Penny’s mock punch and twirled around the bedroom again. “I’m just happy. Everything i
s going right. I have a job I love, a home I love, a Penny I love, a dress I love, a new boyfriend I…”

  Narrowing her eyes, Penny warned, “Don’t say it.”

  Even Penny’s death glare couldn’t dampen Kaylee’s spirits, and she laughed merrily. “A new boyfriend I could really, really come to like. How about that?”

  Penny made a skeptical sound. “As long as you don’t let that ‘like’ blind you to any creeper warning signs.”

  “I won’t,” Kaylee promised. The sunlight soaked into her skin, warming her, and she wiggled her toes in delight. It was going to be an amazing night. She could just feel it.

  * * *

  “You really are a Disney prince,” she blurted.

  Noah’s eyebrows drew together even as he laughed and leaned closer so the other guests around the table couldn’t hear their conversation. “What?”

  “I mean, your hair alone is pretty much irrefutable evidence.” Kaylee fought the urge to reach over and muss it a little. It was gold and perfect, just long enough to frame his handsome face. Sure, credit could be given to a talented and expensive stylist, but Kaylee was leaning more toward princely genes. “And you open doors and pull out chairs and—”

  “That’s manners, not proof that I’m animated royalty,” Noah interrupted, his mouth still curled in amusement. “If I really were a prince, I would’ve picked you up tonight. That was very unprincely of me.”

  Kaylee waved off his apology as she leaned to the side, giving the server room to place a delicate cup holding her after-dinner coffee in front of her. After thanking her, Kaylee turned back to Noah. “You had a meeting, and you offered to send a car. I don’t think that qualifies as being rude.”

  With a playful frown, he said, “An offer you turned down. I hate that you have to make the drive back alone.”

  As smitten as she was with Noah, she had to roll her eyes at that. “It’s a thirty-minute drive. I’ll survive.” Kaylee didn’t mention that the seed of doubt Penny had planted had prompted her to decline. It made her feel safer to have her own transportation, just in case. Not that I’ll need to escape, she thought, taking in Noah’s warm smile and amused blue eyes.

  Martin, Noah’s uncle, cleared his throat, drawing her attention to where he sat at the head of the table, framed by the wall of windows behind him. Darkness transformed the glass into a mirror, reflecting the enormous room back at them—as if it needed to look twice as big. The house was huge, set like an island on lush, irrigated, and landscaped acres. Kaylee couldn’t even imagine how much the sprawling LA property was worth.

  As expensive as it must have been, the decorating scheme was a little too ostentatious for Kaylee’s taste. It felt as if everything had been chosen to impress visitors with the owner’s wealth, rather than to create a home. Although Kaylee had a healthy appreciation for financial stability, she was happy just to be able to pay her mortgage and buy food and have enough left over for some really nice shoes. The pushy glamour of Noah’s uncle’s home left her cold.

  “So, Kaylee,” Martin said, jerking her out of her thoughts. She gave him a polite smile. “You work at St. Macartan’s College?” Although he put a lilt at the end of the statement, it didn’t sound like a question. From the look in his eyes, Kaylee was pretty sure he knew perfectly well where she worked—and a whole lot more about her. Before inviting her to their gazillion-dollar mansion, Martin had probably had her investigated to make sure she wouldn’t steal the silverware.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m in development and fund-raising.”

  “And how do you like that?”

  “I love it.” A warm glow of satisfaction filled her, as it always did when she thought about her job. “Scholarships made it possible for me to go to college.” Scholarships and working her tail off, but Kaylee left off that part. It sounded too self-pitying. “Now I get to raise money so that other kids have that same opportunity.”

  “Sounds…noble.” There was an off note to his tone that made Kaylee stiffen, even as she tried to define it. The expression on Martin’s face was uncomfortably close to a sneer, with a wrinkled nose and curled upper lip that made him look like he smelled something foul. She knew that look, had seen it thousands of times as she was growing up, but she wasn’t sure why Martin was wearing it now. She braced herself, ready to defend her job or her background or her worthiness to even be in the same room as his nephew, but Martin changed the subject. “Where did you go to school?”

  “University of Minnesota for my undergraduate degree, and St. Macartan’s for my master’s.” There was a hint of challenge in her tone, but Martin didn’t take her up on it. Instead, he just asked what her major had been.

  The conversation continued, so polite on the surface that it made Kaylee nervous. To be honest, Martin freaked her out a little. He had that crocodile-in-disguise manner, his eyes flat and cool even as he smiled. As soon as Martin turned his attention to an older couple seated next to him, Kaylee gave a silent sigh of relief and leaned toward Noah. “Restroom?” Martin had flustered her, and she needed a minute and some privacy to remind herself that she wasn’t that helpless, needy child any longer.

  Noah tipped his head toward one of the doorways. “Turn left, then right; it’s the third door on the right. Want me to take you?”

  “Oh no.” She stood, making patting motions with her hands as if to keep him in his seat. “I’ve got it. My sense of direction is excellent.” With a teasing smile, she excused herself to the rest of the guests. It was probably her imagination, but she thought she felt Martin’s sharp gaze on her back as she left the room.

  Within a few minutes, she was hopelessly lost.

  Kaylee made a low sound of frustration. She’d followed Noah’s directions, turning left and then right, but there had only been two doors on the right in that hall. Deciding that he’d left out a third turn, she’d made her way down another hallway, which only brought her farther into a twisted maze.

  “Rich people and their ginormous mansions,” she muttered, deciding to just start checking rooms. There had to be a thousand bathrooms in this place, so she figured she’d eventually stumble over one. She tried several doors, most of which were locked, and the rest of which were definitely not bathrooms. As she reached for yet another doorknob, male voices caught her attention, and she turned toward the sound. Rounding the corner, she saw two burly men enter a room at the very end of the hall.

  “Excuse me,” she called, hurrying as fast as she could on her impractical—yet very cute—shoes, but they’d already disappeared, closing the door behind them. When Kaylee reached it, she tried the knob. It was locked.

  With a growl of impatience, she considered kicking the door, but refrained. Not only did she not know where a bathroom was, but she wasn’t sure how to get back to the dining room. Annoyed with herself, she started trying doors again.

  She yanked at one. The handle turned with the heavy click of an automatic lock. Kaylee frowned. Why did Martin have a room in his house that could only be opened from the outside? She pulled at it, curious. The door was heavy and resisted opening at first, but then it swung toward her. To her disappointment, it wasn’t a bathroom. Instead, a flight of stairs descended to a concrete floor. She was about to allow the door to swing shut when she heard a sound.

  “Hello?” she called, although her voice came out wispy. There was something about the blocky, utilitarian stairs and fluorescent lighting that gave the space an icky basement vibe. Her childhood home had left her with a special abhorrence for basements.

  “Help!” someone called in a hoarse voice. The hair rose on the back of her neck. “Please help us!”

  The words were so unexpected, so out of place in the glamorous mansion, that it took a moment for the plea to register. Her heart rate sped up. “Who’s there?” Forcing her feet forward, she descended a few steps. The door started to close and, remembering the automatic lock, she wedge
d her clutch purse against the jamb before releasing the door.

  Her shoes sounded too loud on the steps. “Who’s there? Are you hurt?”

  “Down here!” The voice was rough and scratchy, the urgent tone enough to make her stomach clench. How had she gone from fairy tale to horror movie in just a few hallways? Her gaze darted toward the door, and she briefly considered running up the stairs and escaping, but she told herself firmly that she was being ridiculous. This was Martin Jovanovic’s fancy-pants mansion, not a haunted house. She clomped down the remainder of the stairs with forced confidence. She was the girlfriend—well, almost-girlfriend—of the perfect man. She’d been invited to a California dream home. She belonged here, damn it. There wasn’t any reason for her to feel intimidated.

  Then she saw the blood.

  Oddly, the first thing Kaylee felt was exasperation. Now Penny would get to say “I told you so,” because her friend had been right…again. The mansion, the boyfriend, the food…everything had been too perfect, so it was time for reality to kick Kaylee in the face once again. Her gaze followed the dark-red trail across the floor until it reached the source of the blood…so much blood. Then her brain shut off as horror swamped her, rushing over her in a black wave as her lungs sucked in a huge breath, automatically preparing for a scream.

  “Help,” a man—although he was barely recognizable as human—gasped, startling Kaylee into swallowing her shriek and turning it into a harsh croak instead. “Please.”

  There were three of them, tied to chairs and facing one another in a rough triangle. Her gaze darted from one battered, blood-soaked form to the next, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. “I was just looking for a bathroom,” she whispered.

  A wheezing choke—was it a laugh?—came from the man whose face was so swollen that it was hard to pick out his features. A slitted, glittering eye peered at her from the wreckage. Her lungs flattened and refused to take in any air as Kaylee stared at his battered visage. Someone had done that to him, had tied him up and tortured him…someone who could be coming back at any moment. “Good thing for us. A hand?” He tilted his head toward the table that sat in the center of the small room. When she stayed frozen, he added, “If you could grab something sharp and cut us loose, we’d appreciate it.”