Claire’s fury swelled each time she heard a crunch underfoot or felt the ragged edge of something that used to be whole. The psycho was
The SUV crunched over the gravel drive to Claire’s house and lurched to a stop. She cracked her eyelids, and through the slits she spied
An hour and two cups of coffee later, the firefighters were gone but the stench of burnt Jeep remained. Its carcass dripped in the afternoon
Wrath. Pure, cold wrath overwhelmed Claire’s better judgment. This guy had to be the Voice of Doom. Who else would blow up her car? After
Heat slapped Jake across the face. From the doorway, he watched the Jeep burn like a bonfire in the parking lot. Claire gasped, then squeezed
Claire had to get Jake out of her bar. The hotshot from Denver pushed her buttons like a payphone. Tongue tied and turned-on, her body
