Where the hell had Irving sent him?
Hunter had said Scarlet Springs owned its own ski resort, so Darius had been expecting a smaller version of Aspen—overpriced restaurants, chic boutiques, million-dollar condos. But this wasn’t Aspen. It was more like Mayberry.
Instead of sidewalks, Main Street had wooden walkways with log railings. There were no elegant storefronts, no tree-lined streets, not even a Starbucks. The town seemed to be a collection of oddball shops, wood cabins, and marijuana dispensaries.
Stoned Mayberry.
He followed his GPS to the Forest Creek Inn and parked in the designated parking area. The inn was the nicest building he’d seen so far—a three-story, yellow Victorian house with white gingerbread trim. Its grounds were expansive and relatively well-maintained.
He climbed out, the mingled scents of fall leaves and pine taking the edge off his irritation. Scarlet Springs might not be much as towns go, but the scenery surrounding it was stunning—white-capped peaks, dense conifer forests, golden aspen.
That’s when Darius saw him. An older man sat barefoot on the back patio, drinking a beer and wearing a pink velour bathrobe that was too small for him.
At nine in the morning?
The man raised his glass. “Mornin’. I’ll check you in at the front desk.”
That was the owner?
Geezus.
Darius couldn’t wait to see his room. He’d be lucky to get more than a stained mattress on the floor and a pot to piss in. He got his duffel and garment bag out of the trunk, made his way to the front entrance, and walked inside, relieved to find that the interior matched the exterior and not the guy on the patio.
From the other side of a door, he heard voices arguing in whispers.
“Get dressed, Bob! You can’t check in a guest like that.”
“He’s already seen me.”
“Get dressed. I’ll handle it.”
The door opened, and a pretty older woman stepped out. “Welcome to the Forest Creek Inn. I’m Kendra, one of the owners.”
“I’m—”
“Detective Darius Silva. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Scarlet.” She handed him a key card and a small brochure. “Because you’re here to help us, I put you in the Matchless Suite. That’s our best room. The key card works on the elevator. Our buffet breakfast is available in the dining room upstairs from seven to nine each day. Our WiFi password is in the brochure. If you need anything, just let us know.”
He was getting special treatment? “Thank you.”
“I hope you can help find the dirty bastards who hurt Sasha.”
“I will do my best, ma’am.” Darius took the stairs instead of the elevator, swiped his keycard, and stepped into the suite that would be his home for the coming week.
The room was everything he hadn’t been expecting. The living area mixed antique wood furniture with modern amenities like a large flat-screen TV. There was a bedroom with a wood fireplace and a king-sized brass bed and, beyond that, a bathroom with modern fixtures, including a towel warmer and a tub big enough for two. A large standing mirror stood off to one side, an ornate antique frame holding silver glass.
Well, you couldn’t judge a book by its cover—or a bed-and-breakfast by the day-drinking dude in the woman’s bathrobe.
He set his duffel on the bed, hung the garment bag in the antique wardrobe, and glanced at his watch. In ten minutes, he had a meeting with Deputy Julia Marcs, the friend of Hunter’s who’d done the initial case report on the hit-and-run. The address was already programmed into his vehicle’s GPS, so he left the room and made his way down the stairs and back outside.
Across the street, an older woman with long silver hair stood in the open doorway of a small Victorian house, waving to him as if the two of them were friends. Above her hung a sign that read Rose’s New Age Emporium. He’d made the mistake of looking her way, and she’d taken that as an invitation. She hurried down her front stairs.
Shit.
He’d just opened his driver’s side door when she reached him, a white lacy shawl covering her flowy lavender dress. “Welcome to Scarlet Springs. I’m Rose. You must be that detective.”
Did everyone in town already know who he was?
“Hi, Rose.” He slipped into the driver’s seat.
She positioned herself so he couldn’t close the door, rested a hand on his arm. “Stop by sometime for a free tarot reading. I also offer past-life therapy, astrology readings, chakra re-alignment, and aura work. I might even be able to help with your investigation. I’m very sensitive to the vibrations around Scarlet.”
“Uh…Okay.” What the hell was he supposed to say to that?
Her gaze traveled over him. “You’ve got a lot of third chakra energy—self-control, discipline, warrior strength.”
“I’ve got to get to the sheriff’s substation.” He started the vehicle, hoping she’d get the point.
She stepped aside. “I’m just across the street if you need anything.”
At a loss for words, he closed the door and drove away.
Sasha woke, every breath agony. She grasped the control pad with her left hand and pushed the call button, hoping Ellie would come quickly. Ellie Moretti was one of the nurses and the wife of fellow Team member Jesse Moretti. That made her family.
As for Sasha’s real family…
Her parents had called the hospital several times to check on her. When they’d heard she was out of surgery and that her life wasn’t in danger, they’d decided not to fly out, pleading project deadlines. Not that she’d expected them to come…
The very things she loved about Scarlet Springs were the things they disliked. They thought the town was too small and too far off the map to be good for her career. They wanted her to live in LA instead and use her climbing career as a springboard for film or television, though Sasha wasn’t the least bit interested in either.
Her parents also couldn’t grasp why she volunteered for the Team. From their perspective, she was a world champion climber and shouldn’t waste her time or risk her safety rescuing people. They couldn’t see how much satisfaction it gave her to use her climbing ability in a way that served others.
Sasha knew they loved her and only wanted the best for her. She was just the proverbial apple that had somehow fallen far from the tree.
She drew another painful breath. They’d operated to set her broken wrist, and she had bruises all over her body. She also had a mild concussion. But nothing hurt as much as her ribs.
It could have been so much worse.
You’re lucky you’ll still be able to climb.
She was lucky to be alive.
That’s what Austin had said when he’d found her, and she knew it was true. Austin had been the first to arrive on scene, followed by Eric Hawke, the fire chief, who was also a Team member. Other Team members had come after that—Megs and Mitch, Nicole, Creed Herrera, Harrison Conrad, Malachi O’Brien, Chaska Belcourt.
Sasha remembered only bits and pieces. Pain when Eric put in a chest tube to reinflate her lung. Malachi hitting her with an auto-injector of morphine. The worry and rage on her friends’ faces. Nicole in tears. Creed shouting that he would find the bastards and kill them. Megs telling Creed to shut the hell up and holding Sasha’s hand.