But fate was fickle—and if it turned, you had to be prepared to take regrettable actions for the sake of self-preservation should the situation spiral out of control.

And with two frightened teenage girls in the mix, that was a very real possibility.

Cate paused beside a table of folded sweaters in the women’s clothing store and consulted her watch.

Ten minutes had passed since she’d wandered over to Starbucks and spotted Kayla sitting alone in the coffee shop. Whoever she was meeting should have arrived by now.

But who knew how long they’d chat?

It couldn’t hurt to take another quick peek.

She strolled toward the door . . . but stopped as her cell vibrated.

Kayla’s number popped up on her screen.

Drat.

Were they finished already?

Had she missed the opportunity to catch a glimpse of her roommate’s suspicious friend?

“Hey. Are you done?” She stopped by the door that led outside, where light snow was beginning to fall.

“Yes. We’re getting ready to drive back. He said it’s okay if you come with us.” The girl’s voice was a tad unsteady.

“What’s up? You sound kind of shaky.”

“We’re outside, at his car, and it’s freezing. You want to come? Taking a cab would be s-silly.”

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.” She slipped the phone back into her parka.

This was an unexpected development.

If Kayla’s friend was willing to reveal himself to her, he may not have anything to hide.

Or he could be a smooth talker who’d been able to bamboozle the teen.

On the drive back, she could assess the guy and decide for herself whether he was on the level.

She pushed through the door, snuggling deeper into her down-filled coat as a blast of frigid air whooshed past.

Dang, it was cold today. The sooner she could get back to the toasty dorm, the happier she’d be.

And tomorrow night she’d be able to sleep in her own bed again.

Bliss.

She scanned the parking lot—and Kayla waved at her from beside a midsize car.

Tucking her chin down against the icy gusts, Cate crossed the pavement, her hair whipping around her face and obscuring her vision.

A few feet from her destination, she shoved the strands back and lifted her head. “The wind is blowing a gale to—”

Her step faltered as a familiar figure emerged from the car and stood beside Kayla.

Reverend Wilson?

What on earth . . . ?

“Keep walking, Cate.” The man’s mellow baritone floated across the dark air toward her, as relaxed as if they were having a chat over lattes. “We wouldn’t want Kayla to get hurt, would we?”

He shifted slightly aside.

Far enough to display the pistol pressed snug against her roommate’s side.

Dear God in heaven!