911, it shouldnât be too hard to explain.â
Ryan thought that the whole experience was impossible to explain, but he didnât say anything more as they trudged across the bridge. It was four in the morning, but the night was still warm. They walked toward the causeway in silence. When they reached it, he saw that his car was gone.
âTowed away,â she said.
He sighed. The risk of damage to a four-wheel-drive vehicle when towed by the front was substantial.
They continued over the bridge, past the dock for the ferry that led to nearby Fisher Island, and onto Miami Beach. The line of cars that had previously marched toward Ocean Drive were reversed and now marched out. The street remained clogged with people, most of them drunk as they stumbled to their hotels.
They reached an intersection and she touched his arm.
âIâm heading home. Youâll be okay now.â
He wasnât sure how to show his gratitude and had the overwhelming urge to kiss her in the long, slow way that Vanderlock had just a few hours before. He hadnât kissed anyone since Susan died, and the thought exhilarated him and scared him at the same time. She took any chance away by touching his arm again and then jogging across the street before the light changed. Two more steps and she was gone around a corner.
T WO DAYS LATER he sent in the final paperwork approving Ms. Emma Caldridge, CEO of Pure Chemistry, for a combination kidnap and key man policy at an extremely low rate.
A week after that he received an international overnight envelope. Sheâd mailed it from the Caribbean. Inside was an acceptance signed by her. She had a strong, expressive signature, and just seeing it sent a thrill through him. What was less thrilling though was the sticky note attached, in her writing. It read:
How did they find us in Key Largo?
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Itâs not over for Emma and Ryan.
Keep an eye out for the next two installments
coming in January and February 2013.
And if you enjoyed Risk , keep reading for a peek at
Dead Asleep
, Jamie Frevelettiâs latest thriller featuring Emma Caldridge.
Available Now
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1
E MMA C ALDRIDGE FOUND the bloody offering on her credenza just before midnight. She had been working late preparing samples and organizing slides in the makeshift lab set up in the rented villaâs spacious garage, and returned to the main house for another cup of coffee.
A small votive candle flickered next to the pile of feathers and hacked-off rooster foot, all arranged in a triangle on top of a pentagram drawn in a red substance that looked like blood. Emmaâs lab, Pure Chemistry, was located in Miami, and she had seen Santeria altars before, with their animal sacrifice and elaborate rituals, but this was nothing like that. This was voodoo.
She stayed still and listened for any sound that might indicate that someone was still in the house. The room was dark, the world asleep. She heard the rush of waves in the distance, the sound of a breeze moving through the trees outside, but nothing that indicated intruders. Her heart thudded in her chest, but she remained motionless, silent. If the intruders were in the house and expected to hear her scream or otherwise react, they would be disappointed.
Emma was used to facing danger. While she hadnât been tested in quite a while, her instincts had come back quickly when needed. Now, she remained quiet. The dark arts were a frightening thing, but she knew that the danger in the message wasnât from the mass of feathers, the dead animal, or the pentagram. In her experience, the danger came from the humans who created the mess and would be part of the corporeal world.
That she remained still came from a more practical consideration as well. She knew that if the intruders werenât in the house, it was entirely possible they were outside waiting for her to burst out of the front door and run to her car. Again, they would be disappointed. She rarely