LITMIR.BIZ

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spread quickly. Why not use that to our advantage?”

      “You’re a good man, John Russell. I don’t care what everyone else says about you.”

      John rolled his eyes. “Thanks. You’re a real pal.”

      “We can’t keep a sneeze secret around here, anyway, so why not put all that extra hot air to good use?”

      “Is Kirstie with you now?”

      “She’s just inside, helping corral the others and putting some finishing touches on food prep.”

      “Does she know her daughter needs her?”

      “Not yet. We’ll be down as soon as I task Megan with the questioning.”

      “Then let me warn you, Lynley intends to work her two shifts at the hospital this week.”

      Gerard grunted. “Not good.”

      “Where are you now?”

      “I’m getting ready to grab Kirstie and get her home.”

      John waited and listened as Gerard Vance reentered a noisy room—the kitchen, from the sound of it, the talk and chatter of rehab residents—and heard Vance’s soothing voice as he asked Kirstie to follow him. To her credit, she didn’t ask a single question.

      “You got it, boss. I don’t like battering chicken, anyway. Just let me wash my hands.”

      John couldn’t help smiling when he heard Kirstie Marshall’s voice in the background. Lynley’s mother had the light laughter of a happy teen, and though her life had been filled with hard knocks, she looked forward to the future, and seldom grieved the past.

      “She’s washing up,” Vance told John. “We’ll be there in five unless another child wanders off.”

      “You’re parked in the garage?”

      “Sure. Don’t worry, I’ll get her into the truck without going outside, and I’ll lock the doors. This one’s got you worried, my friend.”

      “And Lynley.”

      “Yep.” Vance cleared his throat. “You do know how...um...strong-willed Lynley is.”

      “I’ve had time to figure that out.”

      “You can’t let her run this investigation.”

      “No, and I’ll do what it takes to keep her from working those shifts this week. They’re back-to-back, and so she’d be staying in her apartment in Springfield to avoid the hour-long drive each way.”

      “Not good. Do what you can.”

      John powered off and glanced around the deck, then peered into the forest to the east of the house. No one lingered down below now. As Lynley said, someone could be watching from anywhere, but he didn’t get the feeling of being watched. Not that he was going to place Lynley’s safety into the fettered hands of emotion.

      He heard a soft rumble, and realized Lynley had slid open the glass door below him. Data darted outside, his bright white-and-black coat likely drawing the attention of endangered squirrels, birds and mice anywhere within a quarter-mile radius, since it was an unseasonably warm day. Lynley’s urgent call to the playful cat went unheeded.

      That cat was the darling of Kirstie’s life, next in line to Lynley, of course. No one took Lynley’s place. John could see why. Despite his initial resistance to a growing friendship with a living, breathing woman, Lynley’s calm determination and gentle spirit had wrapped themselves around him from the first time he met her, and he’d been unable get her image out of his mind when he closed his eyes at night. She was first in his thoughts when he woke up the next morning.

      Though he was firm in his determination to remain single, this threat against her life both enraged and stunned him with the depth of caring he’d developed for her in these past months. It wasn’t what he’d intended. He’d moved here to be close to his cousins—plus the challenge of being the police chief and only policeman in a town of eight hundred had been difficult to refuse.

      He saw Data climb to the upper deck and sniff around the railing—as if he picked up an unusual scent, perhaps? John tapped the window. The strikingly beautiful cat stood outside the glass, and his gold-foil eyes, white face and pink nose with a black splotch on his head made John smile. He’d never been a cat person, but these cats of Kirstie’s had shown him anything could happen.

      He stepped into Kirstie’s library, where she kept a list of birds she’d seen in the area. Beside the list were her binoculars. He took them back with him to the door and studied the woods, from the rehab center to the creek and beyond. No figure was in sight.

      Sliding open the upper deck door to lure Data back inside, he watched for Vance’s truck to come around the curve above the house. As soon as the cat darted in, John shut and locked the door, eager to get back downstairs to reassure Lynley that Data was fine. What was it about having friends in physical proximity that made one feel all would be well?

      He knew better. If he let down his guard, no one would be safe. He followed Data to the stairway and saw Lynley coming up, her dark brown eyes filled with relief when she saw Data.

      “You little scamp. You just did that to show me you could.” She flipped his jauntily curling tail as he raced past her, then gave John a smile. “Thanks. I don’t want Mom worrying about two of us at the same time.”

      John swallowed hard. He had a job to do, and he couldn’t be distracted by a sweet smile or a deep gaze from dark brown eyes. How long had he been lying to himself about her, trying to convince himself they were good friends. Buddies. Nothing more?

      This was the moment he must see himself as nothing but her protector.

      Sandra would likely be cheering right now if she knew he’d begun to feel a shift in his mind-set, but he was not cheering. Something about losing a wife to death left a man feeling married and wanting to be faithful. Yes, it also left him lonely, and he knew that wasn’t what she wanted. In fact, he’d expected to recover from his loss long before now. It wasn’t until the fourth year after her death that he realized there would be no recovery. Life would continue whether he wanted it to or not, but he’d lost a vital part of himself when Sandra died, and contrary to what everyone had tried to tell him, time was no healer.

      He just couldn’t move forward. Not now. Maybe not ever.

THREE

      Lynley met John halfway up the wide staircase and felt her body lean in his direction as if her mind and body were somehow disconnected. She refused to respond to the attraction she felt. Right now she was depending on him for her very life, so of course she wanted to hold on to him. Anything to connect to. Right?

      He placed an arm around her, but didn’t draw her close, as if he knew where her limits were, and had put on his professional persona. How instinctive this man was. Not pushy. Not overtly affectionate, even though she had no doubt he cared about her. What was it about him that could translate his thoughts and intentions to her without his having to say a word?

      “This time Gerard really is on his way down with Kirstie. I saw someone downhill near the creek a moment ago,” he said. “By the time I reached the binoculars, whoever it was had disappeared, but I’m suspicious. And something else about the note doesn’t ring true.”

      She turned and looked up at him. “True in what way? I’ve been rereading it, studying every word, but I’ve read it so much the words are bleeding together.”

      “I want to show it to Gerard when he gets here with your mother, then we can talk about it. They were delayed by a missing child. He’s been found.”

      She felt a jolt of fear. “How long was this child missing? John, what if the person who left this note had seen—”

      “No, he wasn’t gone for long.”

      “But

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