Addie’s fingers firmed on the steering wheel. She’d drive on through the night, call Ivy and assure her she was all right, that she needed to get away after the trauma. She’d even mail Ivy some of the money.

She knew these back roads pretty well and started looking for the turnoff that would let her head east. A little maneuvering would get her into San Antonio, and the 10, which would take her straight to Houston and then to Louisiana and New Orleans.

A flash of light caught her attention, and Addie glanced into her rearview. Her heart sank as she saw the unmistakable lights of a police car coming up behind her. Had they followed her from the diner? Did they know about Kendrick? The dead Shifters?

She soon heard the wail of a siren as the car came closer. This might not be about her. Might not. But there was no one on this back road but herself.

The lights grew closer until they were right on her bumper. She knew better than to try to floor it—they’d chase her, and life could get bad after that.

Their headlights flashed, and they sounded the horn that meant, Yes, we’re following you, lady, and you need to pull over.

Swallowing, Addie put on the brakes and halted on the highway’s shoulder.

A glance into the mirror showed that much of her hair had escaped its ponytail and hung in long hanks down her face. She hoped by all that was holy she hadn’t looked this bad when she’d thrown her arms around Kendrick and kissed the hell out of him.

The heat of that kiss still lingered on her lips, the sensation of his hands on her body imprinted there for life.

Two men approached the car. One leisurely strolled toward her window while the other remained at her taillight, almost in her blind spot.

The one who approached her open window wore an immaculate khaki-colored uniform, his short hair combed and perfectly straight. He wasn’t Loneview police, she realized; he wore a county sheriff’s department badge on his chest and his name tag read Alvarez.

He stood at her window, leaning slightly to look inside. “Ms. Price? Can you step out of the car for me?”

Addie tried to hide her agitation as she opened the door and got out. Cool wind wrapped her bare legs. She saw that the other deputy remained at the rear of her car, and he had his gun in his hand.

“Mind telling me where you were going?” Alvarez asked her.

“I don’t know, really,” Addie said, her voice shaking. “Anywhere.”

“Your car was seen heading out of town after the trouble at your diner,” he went on. “You were a witness.”

Not a question. A statement. He knew she’d been there. But then, if he’d talked to Bo, Bo would have told him she’d been working her shift tonight.

“Yes,” she said, her mouth dry.

Alvarez was watching her with a calm, steady look, but she read the suspicion behind his eyes.

“Wait,” she said. “You think I had something to do with it? I didn’t. I was scared out of my mind.”

“I can imagine,” Alvarez said, continuing with the calm tone. “I’m going to ask you now why you were driving down this highway instead of going home. You’re not obligated to tell me, but I’m going to ask. Seems a kind of strange thing to do.”

He wanted her to confirm his suspicions, that she was involved somehow, that she knew all about who had done the shooting and why. His eyes and tone of voice encouraged her to.

Addie thought of Robbie’s too-serious gray eyes as he looked after the smaller cubs. She also remembered the way Robbie had momentarily let down his guard when he’d seen Kendrick, to run to him and cling to his legs.

No way was she giving up those kids to the cops. Not their fault their father had been hunted, not their fault he’d killed a guy with a sword. Kendrick had been defending them against men who’d tried to shoot them all dead.