Thousands of miles didn’t feel like enough distance to Brody. “What did the e-mail say?”

“ ‘Help. The end comes Tuesday.’ ” Hannah’s voice broke. “That’s it. The subject line was the girl’s name. The detective in Vegas said it was untraceable. It was sent from an anonymous e-mail account called Hide My Identity, and the IP address of the computer was shielded with a virtual private network. He suggested I let my local police know about the incident.” She smiled weakly. “So I called you.”

Because he was the only cop she knew? Part of Brody wanted the reason to be more, but Hannah Barrett was a complicated woman. She stirred up too many unknowns in his gut. It was easier to date women who didn’t keep him up at night, not that he dated much. The shooting in Boston and his subsequent divorce had driven him to Scarlet Falls in search of a fresh start. The events had also left him wary of intense experiences, and Hannah Barrett’s intensity meter was stuck on high.

“I don’t want to unnecessarily alarm Grant,” she said. “He knows the man took my purse and has this address.”

“Your brother installed a very high-end security system. Your assailant is probably thousands of miles away, but you should keep the alarm on at all times. If you forward me the e-mail, I’ll have a look at it.” Brody rubbed his jaw. “I don’t know what this means, but I don’t like it. Please call me if anything seems odd. Anything.”

“All right,” she said. “I don’t know what ‘the end’ is, but it doesn’t sound good, and Tuesday is only a few days away.”

“Try not to think about it. You notified the Las Vegas police. There’s nothing else you can do.” But Brody wasn’t going to be able to put it out of his mind. “And do not respond. This could be a trick to get more information from you, like your current whereabouts. Anyone who is good enough to conceal his own current location has enough skill to trace yours.”

Tormenting a woman could also be some sick bastard’s idea of fun—or revenge.

Mick pulled up to the pump. Colored light from a gas station sign gleamed off the hood of the car. The V-8 engine was powerful, and the tank emptied like there was a siphon attached. But they were in Scarlet Falls on Saturday night, just as he’d planned. With pit stops, the trip had taken a little longer than he’d anticipated. He stretched his back. Considering how many hours they’d spent in the car, he didn’t feel too bad. Alternating sleeping and driving had helped, so had the coke.