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as he left his car and practically ran up her steps.

      She flew to the door and threw it open before he could knock. The temptation to throw herself into his strong arms was overwhelming, but she managed to resist the urge. Even scared out of her mind, she knew she would regret acting on the impulse. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him forcefully into the house, shutting the door and slamming the dead bolt behind him.

      “I’m being watched,” she whispered, answering his question before he asked it.

      His face hardened. “Explain.”

      “Shortly after seven, I heard noises at the window. I thought a tree branch was scraping the glass.” She swallowed, her trembling hand going to her throat. “But when I went to look, there was a man, running down the drive...”

      Spinning on his heel, Jace raced to the window. He peered outside for a few seconds before grabbing his gun and a flashlight from his pocket. Melanie clutched at his arm as he stalked to the door. The determined look on his face told her exactly what he planned to do. He shook her off gently. Ignoring her protests, he unbolted the door and moved outside, eyes peeled.

      Mel waited inside, her heart pounding. She couldn’t bear the thought of something bad happening to Jace. Oh, what was taking him so long? Surely he should be back by now. Picking up her coat, Mel decided to go check on him. He walked back inside as she was zipping the coat. Bolting the door, he turned. Stopped. Suddenly he grinned.

      “You weren’t by any chance thinking of coming after me, were you?”

      A fierce flush spread over her cheeks. Defiantly, she tossed her head.

      “I just thought you might need some help.” Melanie hated the defensiveness in her voice.

      Jace shook his head. The amusement drained from his face. The sudden seriousness of his expression made her shiver. Whatever he had seen out there, it hadn’t been good.

      “There were footsteps under your window and leading down the driveway. And I found this.” He held out a round black object, roughly two inches in diameter. Mel leaned forward for a closer look, inhaling his aftershave as she did.

      “Is that what I think it is? It looks like a lens cover. Did that man have a camera with him?” Melanie fought down a wave of panic. Now was the time for clear thinking, not hysterics.

      “Sure is, and not just any camera, either. Whoever was using this meant business.”

      The phone rang. The relative calm Jace’s return had brought was shattered as she paled. Jace walked to stand before her, his concerned gaze sweeping her face. Instinctively, she clutched at his jacket and buried her face in it. She tried not to listen as the answering machine kicked on and the malicious voice filled the room.

      “Don’t think that cop’ll protect you, little girl. Sooner or later, you’ll be alone again, and when you are—”

      The voice was abruptly cut off as Jace picked up the phone. He listened to the invective spewing from the voice for an instant. Then he hung up, none too gently.

      Melanie became aware of the exhausted tears pouring down her face. She allowed Jace to lead her over to the couch. He pushed her down onto the corner cushion, then reached for the afghan lying across the back. Wrapping it around her shoulders, he knelt before her.

      “When did these phone calls start?”

      “Right after I saw the man outside. He started talking about what I had been doing, so I knew he had been watching me.” She shivered and pulled the afghan tighter. “He’s been calling every couple of minutes. I’ve lost track of how many phone calls.”

      She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She was so tired.

      “Why didn’t you unplug your phone?”

      “I was afraid he’d see me if I walked to the phone,” she admitted. “I’ve been crouched on the floor, out of sight.”

      He closed his eyes and shook his head. “If I had been here...”

      “It’s not your fault. You’re here now, and he’s still calling.”

      The phone rang again. Melanie shuddered. Jace grabbed his cell phone.

      “I’m going to call my boss about putting a trace on your line. Maybe this guy will slip up.”

      He shut his phone slowly when the voice filled the room.

      “If I were you, I’d be careful going out the back door. Never know what you might find.” Malicious laughter echoed before it was abruptly cut off.

      Mel watched in horror as Jace reached into his holster and retrieved his gun. He moved with care toward the back door, hugging the walls and staying away from the windows. The idiot was going to open the back door. It had to be a trap.

      “Wait! Jace! You can’t go out there! Are you crazy?”

      He blew out his breath, hard, and tossed her a mocking smile. “What? You think I should wait for the police? Oh, that’s right. I am the police.”

      She held her breath and whispered a prayer as he stood with his back against the wall next to the door, his gun held ready.

      “Keep back,” he ordered in a low voice.

      Then slowly, he reached out and closed his hand around the knob and started turning.

      Her heart in her throat, Mel kept her eyes glued on Jace as he turned the knob. The door opened with agonizing slowness. Any moment she’d hear some spooky music like in a horror movie. She shook her head as the errant thought flitted across her weary brain. A familiar tightness in her chest warned her that she would soon be in need of her inhaler again. But there was no way she was going to reach for it now. Any movement might distract Jace.

      Jace opened the door and peered out. He let out a rough sound of disgust, almost a growl. He pulled the door open wider and stepped outside. As he disappeared from her sight, panic screamed in the pit of her belly, fighting to crawl its way out. She hung on to her control, but it was a struggle. When he returned, she let out a breath, unaware until she did so that she had been holding it.

      Jace tucked his gun back into his holster with a single abrupt movement. With his other hand, he whipped out his cell phone and hit a button. A scowl furrowed his brow and curled his lips. He stalked back to the door and peered out. Curious, Mel leaned over to peer past him. And gasped in shock.

      A storefront mannequin swung in the breeze, a makeshift noose around its plastic neck. A brunette wig was balanced precariously upon its head in an obvious attempt to make it resemble Melanie. A sign had been hung around its neck. It read Murderer. You Are Not Wanted Here. Mesmerized, she was only vaguely aware that Jace was conferring with someone on his phone. He disconnected after a minute. She stayed focused on the Melanie mannequin. Freaked out. Wait. Was that...? She looked closer...

      “Oh!”

      Jace swung around at her cry.

      “Melanie, it’s not real, it’s just a mannequin,” he held up his hands in a calming motion.

      “It’s a mannequin wearing my clothes!” Her throat was so tight, it hurt to force the words past the constriction. “I wore that dress all the time. It was a favorite of mine when I was still in high school.”

      “Are you sure? Maybe it’s a coincidence—just a similar dress.”

      Melanie shook her head. There was no way she was mistaken.

      “I know that dress,” she insisted. “Aunt Sarah made it. If you look at the tag, you’ll see its one of her personalized tags.”

      She had always felt so pretty, so feminine in the delicate blue dress. It was the only modest dress she had owned back then. It had pleased her aunt no end when Mel wore it.

      Someone

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