The Keepers: Archer. Rae Rivers
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The Keepers: Archer
Rae Rivers
A division of HarperCollinsPublishers
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Contents
To Ryan, who is the hero in my own real-life story, and my beautiful children who were all very tolerant of all the hours I’ve spent writing this book. Thank you, my angels.
To my dearest friend, Lisa. Running through ideas for this series with you was as much fun as writing it! Thank you for all the laughter, encouragement and input.
Lastly, thank you to the team at Harper Impulse for saying yes and for believing in my series – and me.
CENTRAL PARK, NEW YORK
She was under a microscope.
A silly notion, one she’d never admit to anyone. Her logical mind challenged the thought but Sienna Beckham knew – just knew – that she was being watched.
Sitting on the grass, she scanned the busy park. A casual, fleeting glance, nothing too obvious.
Nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Just the normal crowd – different faces than the day before, but normal nonetheless. Joggers, strollers, a few picnics, several ball games – all the same. The warm weather and sunshine had drawn out the nature lovers who appeared reluctant to leave despite the setting sun. The park, once lush and green, had turned a magical shade of orange, yellow, and red, a sign that fall had arrived with fervour.
Her instincts bristled; her gut clenched.
Paranoid? Crazy?
She pushed herself off the grass, drained the last of her water, and tossed the bottle in a nearby bin.
The sun hovered above the horizon, illuminating the tall buildings around the park in a gentle orange glow. The lake had turned a soft shade of pink. One last lap around the park and she’d make her way home to shower and change before heading out to Terroirs for drinks with two of her colleagues from the bookshop. She hadn’t wanted to go out tonight but it was Saturday, a day they were determined to celebrate.
She pulled her fiery red hair into a ponytail and set off at a gentle pace. Within moments, she was flying across the park with a feeling of lightness. Jogging always did that to her, but today she felt … different.
Hell, she’d always felt different, but today she felt strange.
Her parents?
The anniversary of her parents’ deaths loomed dangerously around the corner, threatening to jolt her back into a time she’d rather not remember.
But her uneasiness hinted at something more, something she hadn’t been able to identify all week.
With a shake of the head, she scolded herself for being so serious, for thinking too much, and concentrated on running with a clear mind.
She soon lost herself to the fresh air, the warm glow of the fading sunlight,