LITMIR.BIZ

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a.m. She could handle that. However, she hadn’t been able to reach Johnny at Blue Lake since yesterday, and that was a worry.

      She could call Eileen or Zack or even the sheriff, but if he was simply looking for down time, Johnny wouldn’t appreciate being monitored.

      She mulled it over and decided to try one more time. In her office she picked up the phone and punched his number. Twenty rings later, she stared at the handset and sighed. “Where the hell are you, Grand?” Vexed with herself more than him, she skirted her desk. “Why do you care, Meliana? Separated, remember? Time to let go.”

      Her chair was rolled partway out, angled toward her computer. She swung it around, then hissed in a breath and took a quick backward step.

      A single white rose lay crosswise on the seat.

      SHE MADE IT TO THE HOUSE at Blue Lake before 9:00 p.m. Only one light burned inside, a lamp on a table next to the front door. Meliana considered, then knocked. “Johnny?”

      There was no answer. At her side, Lokie and Shannon barked.

      She tried again, louder. “Johnny, are you here?”

      “Yes, I’m here.”

      His voice came from behind her, and she spun. Whatever she’d planned to say dissolved in her throat. He was covered with mud and grease, he had a rag wrapped around his right hand and he looked thoroughly out of sorts.

      It had to be the expression on his face that caused her lips to twitch. “Problem?” she asked in her most ingenuous tone.

      The look he sent her had a decided bite. “Where do you want me to start? With my truck, the gusher in the toilet, or the fire?”

      “Fire?” She grabbed the dogs’ collars to keep them from jumping on him. She sniffed, but smelled nothing except trees and lake water. “Where?”

      “In the shed.”

      She glanced around his arm. “It looks fine from here.”

      “Check out the far side, Mel. It’s toast.”

      She kept a firm hold on the dogs. “How did it start?”

      “Local fire chief’s gonna let me know that when he figures it out, which should be by next Easter. Until then, I’m guessing arson.”

      Something twisted in her stomach. “Arson’s a pretty drastic conclusion, Johnny. It could’ve been someone smoking in the woods.”

      “It could also have been a gas bomb.”

      “Right.” Meliana gave up. “What happened to your truck?”

      “Two flat tires, with only one spare to replace them. And it wouldn’t start.”

      “Someone got under the hood.”

      “Unless a squirrel made off with three of my spark plugs and disabled the carburetor.”

      Meliana pushed both dogs to a sitting position. They wanted to hunt the bullfrogs that were croaking in the reeds by the lake. “Stay,” she ordered and had to trust that Lokie would follow Shannon’s lead. “This day’s really not improving. What about the gushing toilet?”

      Johnny blew at the hair in his eyes. “That could have happened on its own. The plumber who fixed the broken water pipe Eileen discovered also runs Eddy’s Spaghetti House. He had a party of twenty booked in for dinner last night. I sensed his mind was on his meat sauce while he was here. He capped the geyser and told me to use the upstairs bathroom until he can get a better look at the problem.”

      “Right. Fire, spark plugs, toilet. Now tell me why your answering machine and cell are turned off? I’ve been calling since last night. I even e-mailed you this afternoon.”

      He rubbed his grimy hands in distaste. “My cell’s dead, Eileen moved the answering machine so I walked through the cord and tore it out of the wall, and you never use e-mail to contact me so I tend not to check it. I called you twice at the hospital today. Despite the usual runaround, I got the impression you were in surgery pretty much nonstop. That meant you were okay, so I didn’t leave a message.” Concern crept in as he cocked his head to survey her. “Did something happen after my last call? Has Chris…?”

      She waved him off. “Nothing like that. Chris is out of town until Monday.”

      “Some hero.”

      “I don’t need a hero, Johnny.”

      He took a step toward her, a dangerous step, to her way of thinking.

      “I got another rose,” she told him. “At the hospital, in my office. Sometime between four and seven this evening.”

      His head fell back, and he gave a humorless laugh. “Not in tune with the cosmos at all, are we?”

      “I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing.”

      “What I don’t believe is how easily this guy slips in and out of your world. Home, office, car. No one sees him….” He stopped. “No one saw him, right?”

      “I asked all around the seventh floor. No one noticed anything unusual.”

      “So either he’s ridiculously lucky or he sees all and knows exactly when to leave his goodies. Or steal them, as the case may be.”

      For the first time, Meliana detected the smell of scorched wood. Her gaze traveled around the open yard to the shed. “You think the rose guy burned the shed and disabled your truck, don’t you?”

      “I think it’s very likely.”

      “So do I.” The knots in her stomach tightened. “He’s watching me, Johnny, and he doesn’t like you. You need to stay here, and let Julie do what she can in Chicago.”

      “I know cops, Mel.” He closed in on her, but was thankfully too dirty to touch. “Julie’s a cog in a big regulation wheel. She won’t be able to do much, no matter how good her intentions. Flowers and petty theft don’t amount to a great deal in the eyes of the police.”

      “Julie’s a friend.”

      “I’m your husband.”

      She lifted her hair from her neck so the lake air could reach her skin. “We’re separated, Johnny, and you’re not supposed to be involved in any kind of investigation right now. On a more dangerous note, you’re also supposed to be discreet about any action you undertake, in case someone you were involved with as John Garcia did happen to make you.”

      He used a knuckle to tip her chin up. “You’ve been talking to Blackburn, haven’t you?”

      “Not about you.” She let her hair fall. “I watched you change over time, from the man I married to a man I stopped recognizing as my husband. I didn’t grow up in a bubble, Johnny. I’ve seen people get sucked into bad situations. With you, I saw an evolution. It wasn’t healthy, and it certainly wasn’t pretty. You seem so much better these days. I don’t want you to slide backward.”

      “I won’t.”

      “You could. John Garcia’s a part of you now. You created a persona, and for two years it became your reality. You lived it, breathed it, worked it. When they pulled you out, the FBI considered putting you in a witness protection program. They would have if you hadn’t been so adamant that your cover hadn’t been blown.”

      “I didn’t think it had.”

      “But now you’re not sure. Enrique Jago might be out there looking for revenge. And what would he do? He’d stalk me. He’d distract you. He’d make you look in my direction when really it’s you he wants.”

      Johnny lowered his lashes. He was silent for a moment. Then, with his mouth mere inches from hers, he said, “This stuff’s coming off the top of your head, isn’t it?”

      Absurd amusement rose in her throat. It had to be his delivery coupled

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