Bright and early in the morning, Zack rode his horse alongside Joe. The sun was just barely making its way up in the sky. The clouds were tinted pink and blue. The scene was surreal. He wished Whitney could share it with him.

Today Joe didn’t bring the other ranchers, and he didn’t intend to bring in the cattle either, so Zack wondered why Joe had invited him on this early morning ride. As they made their way through the woods, he became uncomfortable. Joe had brought his rifle, but Zack felt helpless without a weapon. Of course, it had been years since he took a hunter’s safety course, so he might not be the best person to carry around a loaded weapon.

Joe was silent for the first little while as they galloped their horses along a path in the woods. Zack was alert to everything around him, and he prayed the shooter hadn’t been watching him when he left the house this morning.

When Joe slowed his horse, Zack hoped the other man would want to talk now. If not, Zack would come up with a topic. Something needed to be done to break up the silence.

Joe glanced over his shoulder at Zack. “You’re probably wondering why I wanted you to come riding with me.”

“Actually, yes.” Zack slowed his horse to a stop and waited for Joe to do the same. “Especially, when nobody else came with us.”

Sighing, Joe’s gaze moved around them slowly as a soft smile bracketed his mouth. “I’ve always loved the outdoors. It’s so calming out here.”

“I have to agree with you. In fact,” Zack chuckled softly, “I’m thinking of buying my own ranch.”

Joe’s eyes widened. “You are? Right here in Maine?”

Zack shrugged. “I was thinking more like Montana.”

“Well, with your money, I’m sure you’ll find a nice place and hire the best people to run it for you.”

“Unless I want to run it myself.”

Joe adjusted his hat. “Are you a hands-on kind of guy?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good to know, especially since I’ve read about you in the tabloids.”

Zack snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe everything you read in those magazines.”

“I’m glad to know that.” He leaned forward. “One more question.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to take care of my daughter?”

Love swelled in Zack’s chest. “As much as she’ll let me. But yes, I plan on doing all I can to take care of Whitney. I’m in love with her, sir. I told her last night.”

The older man smiled widely. “That’s music to my ears. I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“Neither do I.”

“So what if,” Joe shifted in his saddle, “I offer to sell my ranch to you and Whitney?”

A thick board across his head wouldn’t have shocked him any more than what Joe had said. “You want to sell your ranch?”

“Yes.” He scratched his neck. “I’ve been doing this for years and I think I’m ready to retire. I want to do the things I’ve only dreamed about doing before I get too old to do them. Whitney loves it here, and well... if you two want it, then I want to sell it to you.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll talk to Whitney about it.”

“Of course, you’ll have to convince her that being a rancher is more exciting than being an FBI agent.”

Zack laughed fully. “I’ve almost convinced her of that, already. Her heart isn’t in her job, and she needs to do something she loves.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Joe nodded. Using the reins, he guided his horse around to head back toward the house. “Let’s find us a shooter first so that we can have a normal life. This ranch hasn’t been as active since before you showed up.”

“Actually, Joe,” Zack urged his horse forward to keep up with the other man, “Whitney thinks she might have a suspect.”

Once again, Joe stopped his horse, and so Zack followed his lead.

“She has a suspect? Who?”

“Last night while she was on the veranda, one of your ranchers came to talk to her. I guess she and this guy grew up together. His name is Wall.”

“Oh, yes. Wallace.” Joe narrowed his gaze. “Wall is Whitney’s suspect?”

“No, but Wall was telling her about seeing Jim Bob go into the thicket of trees with a rifle earlier yesterday morning. Whitney remembered that Jim Bob had always teased her when she was young and living here.”

Joe frowned. “Yes, Jim had a rocky childhood, I’m afraid.”

“Because... he was your son?” Zack asked skeptically.

Joe’s eyes widened, and his face reddened. “My son? Where did you hear that load of crap?”

“Wall told Whitney that was the reason Jim disliked her.”

Joe shook his head. “For a brief time, I’d thought Jim was my son, but after we had the DNA tests, it was proven that he wasn’t. But that was clear back when he was a baby. The matter was cleared up by the time I married Whitney’s mother.”

Confusion filled Zack’s head. “Then why would Wall tell her that?”

“I don’t know, unless...” Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wallace was always a shy boy when his father worked on the ranch, but I could see the kid had googly eyes for Whitney. My daughter was sweet to everyone, even Wall, but after she and her mother moved away and Wall started working for me, he’d ask about Whitney from time to time. He knew when she had graduated college, and when she joined the FBI. He even knew the first time she was injured doing her job.”

“Was he a stalker?” Just the thought had Zack fisting his hands. “I mean, did he ever go to New York City to watch her?”

Joe stared off into the distance. Gradually, his expression hardened. “Not even a week ago, he left for about three days. I don’t know where he went, but I’ve heard him talk about going to New York City before. Several times, in fact.”

Zack gritted his teeth. “What day did Wallace take off last week?” he said in a strained voice.

“Um, I think it was Monday.” He nodded. “Yes, it was Monday, and he was back at the ranch by Wednesday – the day before you and Whitney came.”

Anger mixed with panic welled up inside of Zack. He had a really bad feeling about all of this. Jim Bob wasn’t a suspect any longer, but Wallace was at the top of Zack’s list. “Joe? Do you know what kind of vehicle he drives?”

“I think he drives a truck – a Ford.”

“What color is it and does it have big tires?”

“Yes, big tires and the truck is white.”

Zack’s stomach lurched. The shooter at the airport hadn’t been one of the senator’s hitmen after all. It had been shy and awkward Wallace.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Zack shook off the fear taking over his body. “Joe,” he said in a tight voice, “Whitney is in danger. We need to find her. Now!”

* * * *

WHITNEY CONCENTRATED on the dusk-colored paint as she drew the brush strokes over the canvas. Her mind focused on the painting and nothing more. When she’d first awoken this morning, her heart burst with happiness and she knew she’d never known this feeling before. Immediately, she’d wanted to paint, and the picture of what she wanted to create popped into her head.

As she concentrated on making the piece of art resemble what was in her mind, classical music playing from her iPhone filled her with peace – another feeling she knew she’d never had before. At this point in time, her life was perfect. The earbuds she’d attached to her iPhone fit snuggly in her ears.

Across the room, the sun filtered through the window in the attic, brightening the room. Slowly, warmth from the sun began to heat the room. Soon, she’d have to turn off the space heater she’d switched on when she entered the attic this morning.

A familiar classical tune came on, and she gently hummed along. She found her brush strokes were more gentle than before, which was quite noticeable on the canvas.

A shadow passed over her face, coming from the direction of the window. Since all she could hear was the music, she dismissed the eerie feeling trying to crawl over her. She reminded herself that she was in her little haven, here in the attic. This was where she’d find solitude.

The shadow moved over her again, fully blocking the sun this time. Hesitantly, she pulled her attention away from her painting to see why the window was being blocked. When her vision adjusted and she recognized the man standing very near her, she jumped from fright. Her heart beat quickly as the eerie feeling returned.

Wallace stood watching her with a hooded gaze. His hands were halfway in his pants pockets, and his flannel shirt had three buttons at his throat undone. His hair was slightly disheveled.

She pulled out her earbuds and stared at him. “Wallace? What are you doing up here?” Immediately, her thoughts turned to Zack and Joe. “Is something wrong with Zack? What about Joe?”

He threaded his fingers through his chestnut hair, pushing it off his forehead. “No, they’re fine.”

She tried to calm down, but for some reason, Wallace’s presence still bothered her. “Then what are you doing up here?”

He moved closer and knelt beside her, resting his hand on her leg. She couldn’t understand why he was being so personal with her.

“You are so lovely to watch, especially when you’re painting.”

“Uh, thank you, Wallace, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“I felt it was time for you to get to know the real Wallace McQuade.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “What do you mean? I thought I did know you.”

He shook his head. “You only knew the boy who’d been too shy while we were growing up to tell you how he really felt about you.”

Shivers of apprehension moved over her. “But... I liked that shy boy.”

He grinned, and it changed his whole expression. His gray eyes turned dark, and his eyebrows arched so much they pointed in the middle. Who was this person? In a blink of an eye, he’d changed from a Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde. A very evil, Mr. Hyde.

“Whitney, I came to take you away with me.” He grasped her wrist so tightly the paintbrush fell from her fingers to the floor.

She whimpered. “Wallace? What are you doing? You’re hurting me.”

He yanked her to her feet. She struggled to pull away from him, but his grip was strong. He’d never appeared like a strong man, especially because he was so tall and lanky. He led her toward the door.

“Where are you taking me?” Her voice shook, and she wished it wouldn’t. She could overpower him. She was the one with the FBI skills, not him.

“We’re going far away from here. I’ve been saving my money for this very moment... The moment when you and I will become husband and wife.”

“Don’t be stupid, Wallace. I’m not in love with you, and you’re certainly not in love with me.”

Growling, he jerked on her arm until she stumbled against him. He glared into her eyes.

“I’ve been in love with you since you were ten years old. I’ve been keeping my eyes on you while you grew up. I know everything about you. Everything!”

Her stomach rolled. This couldn’t be happening. Why was he acting like a crazed man? Or had he been like this all along and she was too self-absorbed to notice? No, he’d been too shy. Nobody would have known he’d turned into a monster.

“Everything?”

“Yes, I knew about the men you dated after you graduated college, and I especially knew when they left you and broke your heart.”

She rolled her eyes. “How could you possibly know that when I lived in New York City?”

He cocked his head. “I haven’t been working for Joe every day of my life. I have vacations, you know.”

She pushed him away. “You’re crazy. There’s no way you knew about those men.”

“You dated Tim and Scott. Tim lasted four months and Scott lasted six weeks. The reason they dumped you was because I was telling them things about you that weren’t true.” He shrugged. “I needed a way to get rid of them. I couldn’t have my future wife falling in love with those losers.”

Her heartbeat slammed against her chest and her mind whirled with things she could say – or do – to make him leave. Where were Zack and Joe? Of course, they wouldn’t come up here to bother her, especially when they knew how much she loved to paint. But if she and Wallace could at least get down the stairs, she’d scream and alert the household.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it. Before she could take control over this situation, she needed to have a clear mind... and courage. Lots of it.

“Then I suppose I have you to thank for chasing them away. They were all wrong for me.”

Wallace’s face relaxed and he nodded. “Exactly. Just like Zack Greyson is all wrong for you, but don’t worry, I’ll get rid of him, too.” Irritation crossed his features. “I apologize for not putting an end to his torment sooner. If you hadn’t run from me at the airport, I would have been able to kill him, and the blame would have been placed on the senator.”

Fear turned her blood to ice. The airport? That couldn’t have been... No, she couldn’t believe Wallace would have done such a thing. But he confessed, which meant he had it in him to be a killer.

In an instant, she recalled their conversation last night. He’d called Zack by his real last name, not the one they’d made up. And just now, Wallace had referred to Zack Greyson. She was staring at the person who wanted Zack dead. He’d been right here all this time.

She licked her suddenly dry lips. “Wh-what about yesterday? Was that you shooting at us?”

“I was aiming for him, but when the bullet came too close to you, I knew it was time to stop.” He caressed her cheek. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Her breathing accelerated as anger filled her. “Wallace, you could have killed me.”

“No, I wouldn’t have done that.”

She scowled. “The bullet whizzed right by my cheek!”

She slapped his hand away, shoved him aside, and rushed down the stairs. He was right on her heels. Their fast footsteps made a loud ruckus in the stairwell. Before she reached the last stair, he yanked on her hair. She slipped on the last step, falling backward, her bottom landing on the step.

Pain shot up her back from the fall, but she pushed the pain aside. There were more important things to concentrate on right now.

He maneuvered around her and stood right in front of her. In his hand was a gun... Her Glock. Her heart dropped. Had he actually sneaked into her room and stolen her gun? But then how else could he have it?

“I’m warning you right now,” Wallace began slowly. “If you make one peep, I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she nodded, gritting her teeth as not to verbally lash out at him.

“Now, we are going to leave the house without anyone seeing us, aren’t we?”

She nodded again. “But... what if they see us anyway?”

“As long as you don’t draw attention to what we’re doing, they will live.”

“What if they ask where we’re going?”

He shrugged. “Make up a lie. I don’t care, just as long as they don’t try to follow us.”

She glared at him but didn’t satisfy him with a reply. He motioned with the gun for her to move ahead of him. As she walked to the stairs on the second level, she inwardly seethed. As each second passed, her fear slowly disappeared and rage filled her instead. She would follow his instructions, but when she finally got a chance to lay him low... He wouldn’t know what hit him.

Surprisingly, they walked through the house without anyone stopping them. It relieved her, only because then those she loved wouldn’t be in danger of Wallace trying to kill them.

Once they were outside, she scanned the yard. It was empty, too. At first, she wondered if Wallace had already killed everyone at the ranch, but then knowing Wallace, he would have boasted about it. She must keep thinking that it was a good thing nobody was getting in Wallace’s way.