“Listen, Lucy, I know you have the right to make your own choices, but I got the creepy vibe from your date when we were in the restaurant the other day.”

Lucy opened her mouth to protest, but Eli held up a hand. “I know you don’t like people interfering. But I grew up with two sisters and I had, like, a ninety percent success rate with predicting when a guy was bad news.” Her expression hardened, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle. “Please, Lucy, I am just asking you to trust me. I can’t explain why, but please just trust me.”

She studied him for a moment. “You barely know me. I don’t understand why you would even care.”

“It’s in my cop DNA. Though, my partner says I have an overdeveloped need to protect people.”

“Your partner might be right.” The resolve he saw in her eyes was unwavering.

He let go of her arm. “I had a good time this afternoon helping you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” It was the truest thing he could say to her.

SHARON DUNN

has always loved writing but didn’t decide to write for publication until she was expecting her first baby. Pregnancy makes you do crazy things. Three kids, many articles and two mystery series later, she still hasn’t found her sanity. Her books have won awards including a Book of the Year award from American Christian Fiction Writers, and she was a finalist for an RT Book Reviews’ Inspirational Book of the Year award.

Sharon has performed in theater and church productions, gotten degrees in film production and history and worked for many years as a college tutor and instructor. Despite the fact that her résumé looks like she couldn’t decide what she wanted to be when she grew up, all the education and experience has played a part in helping her write good stories.

When she isn’t writing or taking her kids to activities, she reads, plays board games and contemplates organizing her closet. In addition to her three kids, Sharon lives with her husband of twenty-two years, three cats and lots of dust bunnies. You can reach Sharon through her Web site at www.sharondunnbooks.com.

Dead Ringer
Sharon Dunn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

—Isaiah 41:10

For the Ladies’ Aid Society and my July brainstorming buddies. Thanks for making me laugh until my sides hurt, supporting me in all matters personal and professional and for praying.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Someone was in the house.

Lucy Kimbol pushed her chair back from her work-table. The noise had come from downstairs.

Tuning in the sounds around her, she held her breath. Outside, the rain tapped the roof in a muffled whisper. The view through the window was black. A fan whirred about four feet from her. She leaned forward in her chair. Downstairs, it was silent.

Yet her skin tingled. Her stomach clenched. The same physical responses she had when she was camping and a wild animal was close. Even if she couldn’t see or hear the animal, she could sense it. And now she sensed…something in her house. She released a slow stream of air and remained as still as possible.

A sudden thud from downstairs caused her to jump up from her chair and dart to the edge of her loft. She gripped the wooden railing, scanning the living room and kitchen below. No sign of movement. She had definitely heard something this time, though. Her heart rate accelerated as adrenaline shot through her muscles.

Her house was not that big; most of it was visible from the loft. That meant something or someone had to be downstairs in her bedroom.

Lucy tiptoed down the spiral staircase and crept toward the bedroom door. Another sound, like the brush of a broom or gust of wind came from within the bedroom. She froze. Her hands curled into fists. She locked her knees.

Maybe she should just call the police. No, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to anyone on the Mountain Springs police force. Past experience told her that the police did more harm than good. She could handle this herself.

She took a step forward; her bare feet brushed across polished wood. Her hand grazed the bedroom door. No light penetrated the slit between door and frame.

This could be nothing. A raccoon had probably snuck in through the open window again.

After a deep breath, she pushed hard on the door, burst into the room and flipped on the light in one smooth movement. Something was crawling out of the window, but it wasn’t a wild animal.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Her words came out in a staccato burst, like gunfire.

The man in a hoodie slipped through the window and disappeared. Lucy raced to the window. Sheets of rain made the glowing circle of a flashlight murky as it bobbed across the field. He was headed toward the forest and beyond that the road. A quick survey of the room revealed open drawers and boxes pulled out of the closet. Lucy put a palm on her hammering heart. The man had been holding something as he’d escaped. She’d been robbed!

Outrage fueled by adrenaline caused her to dash out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She yanked open the back door, covering the length of the porch in two huge steps. Focused on the light, her bare feet pounded across hard dirt and rocks. Rain soaked through her shirt and yoga pants before the pain in her feet registered.

She stopped, gasping for air. What had she been thinking? Even if she caught the thief, she couldn’t subdue him. Anger over the theft had pushed her off the porch, but rationality made her quit the pursuit.

Along the edge of the forest, the bobbing light became a distant pinhole before winking out altogether.

Lucy bent over, resting her palms on her knees. Rain slashed against her skin and dripped from her long hair.

Now she was going to have to call the police whether she liked it or not. Her hand was shaking when she picked up the phone. Would this time be different from every other time she had gone to the police for help? As she changed out of her wet clothing, a sense of dread filled her. She doubted that the police would be able to find the thief, if they would even make the effort.

Detective Eli Hawkins saw only a partial view of the woman who had called in a robbery, but he liked what he saw—mainly long dark hair and a slender build. She had opened the door but left the chain lock on. Even with such a narrow view of her, heat flashed across his face. Very attractive.

“Ma’am, did you report a robbery? I’m Officer Eli Hawkins.”

She lifted her chin. “I know all the cops on the force. You don’t look familiar.”

“I’m new.” He’d only been in town for six hours. Now he wondered why all the other officers had been so eager to send him out on a call right away. None of the Mountain Springs officers had said anything directly, but the implication was that no one wanted to handle a call from Lucy Kimbol. Maybe she was one of those people who constantly called the police.

She rubbed her shirt collar. “Can I see your badge?”

Her voice had a soft melodic quality that quickened his heartbeat. He pulled his ID from his back pocket and held it up so she could look at it.

Her blue eyes narrowed. “Spokane police?”

“I’m a transfer.” She didn’t need to know that he was a temporary transfer for a special investigation, which had to remain under the radar. Four years ago, he had put a serial killer behind bars in Spokane. The conviction had made him the serial killer expert in the Northwest. And Mountain Springs needed that expertise.

She undid the chain lock and opened the door. “I tried to catch him myself, but he got away.”

That explained her wet hair. The jeans and white shirt were dry. She must have changed after she’d called in the robbery. The lack of makeup made her pale skin seem almost translucent and her blue eyes even more noticeable. A pile of crime-scene photos flashed through his head. Lucy had the same features, dark hair and blue eyes, as the five known victims of the serial killer. Could she be a potential target for the killer? Would keeping tabs on her lead him to the murderer?

“You should leave catching thieves to the police.” Part of keeping the investigation under wraps involved him playing the small-town cop. Answering this robbery call might win points with the local police department, too, and go a long way toward them learning to work as team.

“Calling the police is always a last resort for me.”

He picked up on just a tinge of bitterness in her voice. Something must have transpired between Lucy and the Mountain Springs police. “Why is that?”

The question seemed to stun her. Emotion flashed across her features before she regained composure. Was it fear or pain?

“Let’s just say that it has been my experience that most cops don’t always do their job,” Lucy said.

He had a feeling there was way more to the story, but now was not the time to dredge it up. He’d just have to tread lightly and go by the book. Whatever her beef was, maybe being professional would be enough to convince her that all cops were not the same.

“If I’d had shoes on, I might have been able to catch him.” She raised a scratched, bare foot.

“Pretty impressive.” That blew his first theory of why no officer wanted to come out here. Any woman who would run after an intruder was not the type to be calling the police all the time.

“Actually, I had a moment of lucidity and realized I wouldn’t know what to do once I caught the guy.” She forced a laugh.

He detected the strain of fear beneath the laughter. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? You think it was a man?”

“He had a man’s build. I couldn’t see his face.” She spoke in a firm, even tone. Only the trembling of her hands as she brushed her forehead gave away that the break-in had rattled her. “I…I was upstairs tying flies.” She tilted her head toward a loft. “I teach fly fishing. I’m a river guide.”

Eli knew enough not to interrupt. People usually had to back up and talk about safe things before they were able to deal with the actual crime.

Her lips pressed together. She stared at the ceiling.

He glanced around the living room, which consisted of rough pine furniture and a leather couch and matching chair. “Would you like to sit down, Mrs. Kimbol?”

“Miss, it’s Miss Kimbol.” She looked directly at him. “And no, thank you, I can stand.”

Her voice held a little jab of aggression toward him. Her demeanor communicated that she did not trust him. It wasn’t personal. He’d seen it before with people who had had a bad experience with the police. Best to back the conversation up. “I hear fly fishing is big in this part of Wyoming.”

“It brings in a lot of tourists.” The stiffness faded from her posture. “I know I love it.”

He spoke gently. “Can you tell me what was stolen?”

She stared at him for moment as though she didn’t comprehend the question. “I didn’t think to look.” She shook her head. “My dresser drawers were all open. He went through my closet.” Her speech became rapid and clipped. “He was holding something…like a bag or pillowcase.” Her hand fluttered to her mouth as her eyes rimmed with tears.

That she had managed to hold it together as long as she had impressed him. She was a strong woman. The sense of violation from a robbery usually rose to the surface slowly, not like with an assault or violent crime, when the victim acted immediately. All the same, a home invasion was still enough to upset anyone.

She collapsed into a chair and let out a heavy sigh. “I guess I do need to sit.” She stared at the floor, shaking her head.

He had to do something. “How about a drink of water?” As he skirted around the back of the chair, he reached a hand out to touch her shoulder but pulled back. He desperately wanted to comfort her, but he wasn’t about to feed into her ill feelings toward police. She might misinterpret his motives.

Water would have to do. Eli walked into the kitchen, found a glass and flipped on the faucet. When he glanced at her through the pass-through, she was slumped over, resting her elbows on her knees, her hair falling over her face.

Eli walked back into the living room and sat on the couch opposite her. He placed the glass of water on the coffee table between them. No need to push her. She’d start talking when she was ready.

Lucy took a sip of water and nodded a thank-you. He noticed the coffee table when she set the glass back down. Underneath the glass was a three-dimensional wooden underwater scene. Trout swam through the wooden stream complete with carved plant life.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She touched the Plexiglas. “My brother made it. He used to fish quite a bit. He was going to help me with the guide business.” A twinge of pain threaded through her words. She crossed her arms over her body and leaned forward. “I’m not sure what was stolen. I suppose I should check the bedroom.”

A department as small as Mountain Springs probably didn’t have a forensics unit. He could call in for instructions, but he suspected there was a processing kit in the car, and that he would be the one doing the processing. “I need to go over the crime scene first.”

The glazing over her eyes cleared. “But it must be one o’clock in the morning.”

“Your house is a duplex. Is there someone next door you could stay with?”

“It’s for rent. I’ve been running an ad, but so far, no response.” She lifted her head, regaining her composure.

On his drive here, he had noticed that the houses were pretty far apart. The subdivision was on the outskirts of town. He had seen signs that indicated directions to a lake and hiking trails. Given the state she was in, it wouldn’t be good for her to be alone tonight. “Is there a friend you can call?”

“Nobody I want to wake up at one in the morning.” Her gaze rested on him for a moment, long enough to make him wiggle in his chair. “I appreciate your concern about me, but I can take care of myself.”

Lucy Kimbol had an independent streak a mile long. “Suit yourself. I do need to process the scene.” It wouldn’t take any time at all to gather evidence from the crime scene, but he could stretch it out. Even though she would never admit it, he saw that she was on edge emotionally. Since he couldn’t talk her into calling a friend, he’d feel better leaving her alone once she’d stabilized. “I’ll get my kit out of the car.” He stood up and looked at Lucy again. A chill ran down his spine. Lucy looked so much like the other victims. He had more than one reason for stretching out his time. “If you don’t mind, I’ll check the perimeter of your house while I’m out there. Sometimes thieves come back or maybe he dropped something.”

Illumination from the porch light spilled over Lucy’s backyard as Detective Hawkins circled around her house. Lucy stood at the kitchen window, gripping the glass of water he had gotten for her. She shook her head. He wasn’t going to catch anyone. He was doing this to make her feel safer. The gesture touched her.

She had breathed a sigh of relief when she’d seen this stranger at her door. It had been an answer to prayer that he was compassionate and not part of the Mountain Springs Police Department she knew. Maybe he would actually catch the thief.

Her emotional meltdown had surprised her. She did not think of herself as someone who needed a fainting couch. She took a sip of the water and set the glass on the counter.

Outside, Detective Hawkins stepped away from the house and out of the light, where all she could discern was his silhouette. He wasn’t a muscular man—more lean and tall. Probably the kind of officer who used persuasion and intelligence instead of brawn. He ambled back into the light and she caught a flash of his brown hair and a focused look on his face, a handsome face at that.

Even though he’d said he needed to process the scene first, she wanted to know what had been taken. She shrank back from the window and headed toward the bedroom. The door creaked when she pushed it open. She scanned the room. Why was her heart racing? The thief was gone. All she had to do was figure out what had been stolen. This shouldn’t be that hard.

She knew enough about police work to not touch anything. She could go through the drawers and closet later to see if anything was missing. A glance at two empty hooks on the wall caused a jab to her heart. Her favorite and most expensive fly fishing rod, broken down and stored in a case, had been taken.

Lucy suddenly felt light-headed. She planted her feet. She’d pulled people out of raging rivers and hiked out of the hills with a sprained ankle. She could handle this. Her stomach tightened. She gripped the door frame.

A stranger had been in here, rifling through her things, her private things. Then she saw the redwood bowl where she kept her jewelry. Her legs turned to cooked noodles as she made her way across the floor. A lump swelled in her throat. Her jewelry was gone.

Eli’s voice came from far away. “It’s me and I’m just coming into the house.”

Lucy’s hand hovered over the empty bowl. Her grandmother’s wedding ring and pearl necklace and the earrings her brother had given her had been stolen.

“Miss Kimbol? Lucy?”

Footsteps pounded on the wood floor. Eli stood in the doorway.

The warm tenor of his voice calmed her. She exhaled. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.

He turned slightly sideways, indicating the outside door. “I knocked, but I was afraid that—”

She opened her mouth to speak, preparing to be all business, to let him know what was missing. Instead she bent forward, crumpling.

He rushed toward her before her knees buckled. His grip on her forearms was light but steadying. He must have seen something in her body language and facial expression, something she wasn’t even aware of. No matter how hard she tried, she could not pull herself together by sheer force of will.

The heat of his touch on her forearm permeated her skin. She saw no judgment in his expression and his wide brown eyes communicated safety. “I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m not normally like this.”

“Reaction to a home invasion takes a lot of people by surprise.” Still anchoring her arm, he set a box with a handle on the floor.

She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, but her stomach was still doing somersaults. “There was a bamboo fly fishing rod in a case and…my jewelry. The rod was worth thousands. It was custom-made. The jewelry wasn’t worth much.” But it had been priceless to her. The earrings had been a precious gift from her brother. She shuddered.

“You really need to let me process the scene first. I’ll dust the area where you kept the jewelry and the windowsill and then take some photos.” Leaning close, he whispered, “You might want to go in the next room.”

“No, I…want to help.” This was so ridiculous. Why did she keep losing it emotionally?

He bent over and flipped open the case. He spoke gently but as though he hadn’t heard her protest. “Tomorrow you can come back in here, but make sure a friend is with you. Look and see if there is anything else missing—make me a list with a description of each item.”

She appreciated the concreteness of the assignment and the wisdom behind it. “Sorry, this is my first robbery. You’ve probably done thousands of them.”

He lifted a camera out of the case. He rose to his feet and looked her in the eyes. “You’re going to be all right, Miss Kimbol.”

Detective Hawkins had been right about everything so far. She needed to trust and quit fighting him in an effort to prove to herself that this robbery wasn’t upsetting her. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

For ten minutes, Lucy sat on the couch listening to him work, determined to stay awake. He seemed to be taking a long time for what had sounded like an easy job. She rested her cheek against a pillow as her eyelids grew heavy.

She stirred slightly when a blanket was placed on her. Relishing the comfort, she pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and drifted off again. Sometime later, the warmth of his voice surrounded her. “Miss Kimbol, you need to lock the door behind me. I’ll wait outside until I hear the bolt click.”

She heard his footsteps and the door swing open and then ease shut.

Still groggy, she rose to her feet, swayed slightly and trudged across the floor to flip the dead bolt. She checked the kitchen clock before falling back asleep. It was nearly 3:00 a.m.

His car started up. The rumble of the engine was loud at first but faded into the distance. Lucy pulled the blanket around her; the sense of security she’d felt while he was in the house vanished. Just as she was slipping into a deeper level of sleep, she’d wake with a start, thinking she had heard a noise. She slept fitfully until the phone rang at six.

Even though the phone was on a table by the couch, she didn’t pick up until the third ring. She mumbled a hello.

Heather’s chipper voice floated through the receiver. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

The memory of the robbery made her shiver. “Forgot what?” She should tell Heather.

“Your second date with Greg Jackson, breakfast at Lydia’s Café. You told me about it a few days ago.”

Lucy winced. She had agreed to let Heather create her profile on the online dating service, but now that actual dates were involved, she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

Heather must have sensed Lucy’s hesitation. “Everything okay?”

Why was it so hard to share with her best friend? Christians were supposed to bear each other’s burdens. “It’s just that—”

“Do you like Greg?”

“He’s seems like a nice Christian guy, but I…” Lucy gathered the blanket around her as the memory of last night invaded her thoughts.

“You only had one date. You do this every time, Lucy. You’ve got to give him more of a chance.”

“It’s not that.” She had no trouble helping other people, but it was so hard to be the one who needed support. She paced through the house. Finally, she stopped, took in a deep breath and blurted, “I was robbed last night.”

“Oh, Lucy, are you okay? Were you hurt?” Heather’s concern was evident even through the phone line.

“I wasn’t hurt or anything.” She stood in the doorway of her bedroom, looking at the dumped drawers, the empty boxes and clothes tossed from the closet. Her hand fluttered to her neck. Detective Hawkins had advised her not to do this alone.

“I’m sure Greg would understand if you need to cancel. He’s probably already in town. Do you have his cell number?”

Lucy’s hand gripped the frame of the door. She couldn’t stay here…not alone. “Actually, I think I need to get out of this house. I’ll go on the date. It’ll get my mind off of things.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” Anything to get away from being reminded of the robbery. She should have taken Eli’s advice and not spent the night here.

“I’ll meet you right after your breakfast and then, Lucy, I’ll stay with you as long as you need.”

She pivoted and pressed her back against the wall, so she didn’t have to look into the bedroom. “It’s nice to have a friend who reads my mind.”

“No, it’s just that I know you. Quit trying to do everything yourself. But you’ve got to do something for me.”

Lucy pressed the phone against her ear. “What is that?”

“I know you are not crazy about this online thing. I’m doing it because I love you and don’t want you to be alone. For me, could you be a little more open-minded about Greg? You’re twenty-eight—I hear a clock ticking.”

Lucy’s jaw tightened. Heather was well-intentioned. The little old ladies at church who kept telling her about their handsome grandsons were well-intentioned. She just couldn’t picture herself in a relationship, let alone married. What man would put up with her constantly being gone on her guide trips? “I took the batteries out of that clock a long time ago.”

Heather didn’t laugh like Lucy had expected. Intense emotion saturated her friend’s voice. “Sometimes friends see things that you can’t see. I care about you, Lucy. I want good things for you.”

Lucy said goodbye and got ready for her date with Greg Jackson. Because she was in a hurry, she opted to hide her hair with a baseball cap rather than take the time to fix it. The bonus of the baseball hat was that it sent Greg the message that she hadn’t spent hours getting ready. For Heather, she would go on this second date, but she didn’t need to knock herself out.

On the porch, Lucy pulled her house keys from her purse. She never locked her door unless she was going to be gone for days. Now she was going have to lock it all the time. Renewed fear made her hands clammy as she fumbled with the key. What if the thief came back?

TWO

Eli had caught only a few hours’ sleep in his motel room when someone banged on the door. Still bleary-eyed, he pulled himself off the bed and swung the door open.

“Wake up, Susie Sunshine.” Detective William Springer flashed a smile. “We got work to do.”

While he leaned against the door frame of the motel, Eli shook his head, trying to clear the fog of sleep. He hadn’t showered. His stomach was growling, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Lucy. He hadn’t met someone like her before, an intriguing mixture of strength and vulnerability. Plus, her resemblance to the other victims made him concerned for her safety. “Are you kidding me?”

“One of our suspects is in town.” William rocked back and forth on his feet. He was a short man with blond hair so curly it almost looked like ringlets. “We’re on surveillance in about twenty minutes.”

With the exception of three undercover female officers, William Springer was the only Spokane detective Eli had been authorized to bring with him for the investigation. Right now he wished he had left him at home. “I need shut-eye.” Of course, William was exuberant; he was functioning on a full night’s sleep.

William tilted the paper bag he was holding in Eli’s direction. “I brought breakfast.”

The sticky-sweet scent of doughnuts woke Eli up a bit. “Which suspect?”

“Greg Jackson is going through town. He has a breakfast date at a place called Lydia’s Café. Just got word of it. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity.”

They’d narrowed the suspects down to four men who fit a profile, used the same online dating service and lived in this area where the murders had taken place. A woman who was a friend of one victim and a relative of another had brought the online dating service to police attention. Local police had submitted the specifics of the two murders to the National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime and found three similar murders within a day’s drive of one another. Eli had picked Mountain Springs as a base of operation because it was central to all the other small towns where the murders had taken place.

William shoved the doughnut bag toward him again.

Eli held up a hand of protest. This time the smell made his stomach churn. “I need protein.”

“Suit yourself.” William strode across the motel parking lot and yelled over his shoulder. “We’re taking my bug.”

After brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face, Eli left the motel room and ambled toward the car.

William leaned against the driver’s side door, feet crossed at the ankles. He handed Eli a manila folder. “For your review, nothing new, other than the photos of the victims, pre-postmortem. We got them from family members.”

Only William would use a term like pre-postmortem. The interviews of family and friends had been done by various police departments. The surveillance Eli would oversee would happen on two levels. Several female officers with undercover experience had spent a month establishing a cover in the small towns that fell within the area the murders had taken place. The officers had signed up for the service so they could get access to the suspects. Also, watching the four men for suspicious activity and to see if they favored dark-haired women might give them the break they needed.

The groundwork had been laid. They were closing in. Though much of the investigation had been handled by other departments, the ball was now in Eli’s court to gather enough evidence for an arrest and to prevent another death.

Eli slipped into the passenger side of the bug, hunching slightly in the tiny car. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. The investigation could last months. The thought of living in a motel that whole time did not appeal to him, and it didn’t make him look much like a small-town cop, either.

William shifted into first and pulled out of the lot. “Restaurant is about eight blocks away.” He grabbed a doughnut out of the bag and munched. “We lucked out. One of the local officers recognized Greg Jackson when he was in the convenience store, struck up a conversation and got the details about this date.”

As much as Eli hated going without sleep, William’s call to do impromptu surveillance had been a good one. “We’ll get a read on the guy, see how he operates. Then we can set the protocol for how we keep eyes on the other three guys, given the amount of manpower we have to work with.” Eli’s stomach growled again. “Maybe I can get a decent breakfast at this Lydia’s Café.”

Ten minutes later when they entered the café, Greg Jackson and his date were already seated. With the manila folder still in hand, Eli took a table so he was within earshot of Greg. He had a clear view of Greg, but could only see the back of his date, a woman with her hair all bunched up in a baseball hat. William sat opposite Eli and pulled out a notebook. Eli pretended to read a free local newspaper he’d picked up at the door and tuned in the conversation.

Lucy stared at the plate of pancakes and sausages in front of her. She lifted her head and smiled at Greg Jackson, sitting opposite her. It was a weekday morning, so the restaurant wasn’t very busy. Two old-timers sat at the counter, sipping coffee. A mom with two small children, and a man occupied with his newspaper, sitting with a short man with curly blond hair, were the only other patrons.

Greg said something about one of the accounts he handled. She didn’t quite understand his job. He lived in a town some distance from Mountain Springs and traveled here often for his job. He was a sales rep for a feed company or something. His work involved driving across the state and talking to farmers and agriculture supply stores. A breakfast date was a little strange, but he was in town for some sort of work thing, so they had decided to get together.

Getting out of the house had been a good idea. If nothing else, the date took her mind off the robbery.

Greg struck her as a sweet man, a stable man, but nothing went zing inside when she was with him.

“I was thinking, Lucy. I’m sometimes traveling through Mountain Springs on Sunday for my Monday meetings. Would you like to go to church together?” He leaned a little closer to her. “Maybe?”

She had promised Heather she wouldn’t dismiss Greg so quickly. “When is the next time you’re in town?” Maybe zing happened later.

“I have some clients to visit here in a couple of days, but that won’t be a Sunday.”

Going to church together felt too serious. “I don’t know…maybe.”

Behind her, the waitress asked the man with the newspaper what he wanted to eat. His newspaper rustled as he set it down. Lucy perked up when the man ordered pancakes and bacon. She knew that voice, the warmth of it. She removed her hat and turned toward him.

Detective Hawkins’s face blanched, but then he recovered and nodded in her direction. He held up a glass container of maple syrup. “I heard this was a good place to eat breakfast.”

“Best in town.”

The other man, the one with the curly blond hair, cleared his throat. He shifted in his seat and lifted his chin toward Eli in some unspoken signal. As she turned back around, Lucy felt a tightening in her rib cage.

Greg shoved a large piece of French toast in his mouth. “Your pancakes okay?”

“They’re great, thanks.” Lucy took a bite. The sweetness of the huckleberry syrup did nothing to deter her suspicion. The knowing glance that had passed between Eli and the other man bothered her. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but something about it felt strange, conspiratorial.

Greg chatted more about his work and the family ranch he had grown up on in Colorado. Lucy talked about helping a seventy-year-old widow learn how to fly fish. She angled in her chair so she saw Eli in her peripheral vision. Was he watching her?

Greg excused himself to pay the bill.

Lucy took a sip of her coffee. Any sense of trust she’d felt with Eli last night was gone. She set her coffee cup firmly on the table. Why had she thought Eli was different? A cop was a cop. People’s concerns and their fears were just a big, funny joke to all of them.

Lucy rose to her feet and gave Eli a backward glance.

He looked up from the manila folder he’d been flipping through. His eyes searched hers. She couldn’t quite read what she saw in his expression. Was it fear?

Greg slipped his arm through Lucy’s and guided her toward the door.

When they were outside the restaurant, Greg spoke up. “Maybe I’ll call you when I’m back in town in a couple of days. We can get together then.”

“Sure,” Lucy said absently. The look of fear on Eli’s face was etched in her mind.

Eli watched Lucy pass by the restaurant window. He had nearly choked on his water when she had glanced at him. He scanned the pre-postmortem photos from the file again. His heart squeezed tight.

William doodled on his notepad. “That guy Jackson, Mr. Ordinary, huh? You know what they say. Beneath that smooth surface lurks the heart of a killer.”

Eli continued to examine the photographs, taking in a deep breath to quell the rising panic. “Who exactly says that, William?”

“You know, it’s always the guy who is quiet and keeps to himself who is the killer.” William rested his elbows on the table and narrowed his eyes at Eli. “What is it, man? You look like you just took a left hook to the jaw.”

One by one, Eli passed the photos to William. Though the women had all died in different ways—poisoning, strangulation, stabbing—their appearance and membership in the online service linked them together. “Do you see it?”

“Yeah, they all are beautiful, dark-haired women.” William’s tone had become more insistent. “We established that.”

Eli took in a breath in an effort to slow his thudding heart. “I think I know who the next victim could be.”

“You mean, the woman Jackson was with…’cause of the dark hair.”

“I answered a robbery call at her house last night. I noticed the resemblance, but didn’t realize how closely she matched her victims until looking at the photos.” His mouth went dry. “If she is dating Jackson, she probably met him through the service.” Eli hadn’t failed to notice the daggers she shot toward him as she left the restaurant. Her distrust of police ran deep, and it took only the smallest irregularity to trigger it. She probably thought he was stalking her.

More than anything, when he’d seen the veil of protection fall across her eyes, he had wanted to explain why he was in the café, but he couldn’t. They had put too much manpower on the case to blow it. Going public with the investigation could cause the killer to go underground, then years from now after three or four more women died, they’d have to connect the dots all over again.

Eli spread the photos across the table. He could not shake the anxiety coiling through him. He tapped his finger on one of the pictures. “Look. Same hair, same eyes. Lucy Kimbol is a dead ringer for these other victims.”

The sense of justice that had led him to want to be a police officer rose up in him. They were going to get this guy. No one else was going to die on his watch. “I think we need to keep our eye on potential victims, too.”

“Manpower is limited, remember.” William rested his elbows on the table. “We’ll be watching potential victims when they are with suspects.”

Eli gathered up the photographs. “Not always. We have to rotate surveillance as it is.”

William shook his head. “You have to let go of the belief that you can protect everyone all of the time. You are not supercop. None of us are.”

“I just think when someone fits criteria for being a potential victim, we ought to do something about it.” Who was he kidding? Lucy wouldn’t accept police protection if it came tied up in a silver bow.

He’d have to find some other way to keep her safe.

THREE

Eli’s heart kicked into overdrive as he brought his car to a stop outside of Lucy’s duplex. He was probably the last person Lucy wanted to see right now. If the department wasn’t going to spring for the manpower to keep an eye on her, he would do it on his own time. Besides, his solution solved two problems. Two days in a motel was two days too many, and she had a duplex for rent.

In her front yard, three teenagers lined up, all holding fly rods. Lucy moved from one student to the next, adjusting their grip on the rod handle or demonstrating the casting.

Her long, dark hair cascaded down to the middle of her back. The vest with all the pockets, a T-shirt and khaki pants was probably the official uniform of fly fishers everywhere. Her cheeks were sun-tinged. Even in the bulky clothes, her narrow waist and the soft curve of her hips were evident. He liked the way the students seemed responsive to her instruction, remaining quiet and focusing on her while she talked.

Part of solid police work involved not jumping to conclusions. He could be wrong about Lucy being the next victim, but he didn’t want to take a chance with her life. How many dark-haired, blue-eyed women could there be in an area that probably had more cows and sheep than people?

The three teenagers held their poles midair and stared when Eli pulled into the gravel driveway.

Part of the profile of the killer was that the dark hair and blue eyes were symbolic in some way. The other aspect of his personality was that he probably traveled for his job or had enough time and money to cover the area where the killings had taken place. On the online sign-up forms, there was an option that allowed an applicant to restrict match choices to a geographic region.

Eli and the other officers had joked as they looked at the matchmaking Web site for “investigative purposes.” They all agreed that a guy would have to be pretty desperate to sign up for something like that. He noticed though that the number of single guys on the force who mentioned having dates seemed to go up quite a bit after that.

William had even signed Eli up, but he’d missed the only two dates he’d agreed to because of work. He’d been twenty-six when he had caught the Spokane killer; now at thirty, his life was his work and that was fine with him. He couldn’t imagine a woman who would put up with the kind of hours he kept. He had nieces and nephews and mentored kids through the church youth group. He never sat at home, twiddling his thumbs and thinking about taking up watercolor painting.

Eli got out of his car and sauntered toward Lucy.

Her granite gaze told him all he needed to know. After a few words of instruction to the kids, she walked over to him. “The guy who called asking about the rental didn’t sound like you on the phone.”

“I had my partner call in and ask about it when I saw the newspaper ad.” She probably would have hung up on him. “I do need a place to live.”

Her chin jerked up slightly. “Wouldn’t you rather get a place closer to town?”

He had counted on meeting some resistance. “It’s not like there are a ton of rental choices. I like how quiet it is out here.”

She studied him for a moment. Her expression softened. “That much is true.” She kept her voice level, completely neutral. “It’s been vacant for a couple of months, and I really do need the income.”

If it was about money to her, fine. He’d stay close any way he could.

She stepped onto the wraparound porch, pulled a key from her pocket and opened the door. The house was clean and airy. Like her place, it had a loft. He would have taken it if it had been a dump.

“It’s nice. I like that it’s a furnished place. I didn’t bring a whole lot with me from Spokane,” he said. “I like being out in the country, but still minutes from town.”

“I like it, too. I’m close to the river, close to my work.” Lucy’s voice lilted slightly when she spoke about the river.

Eli wandered through the house, opened and closed the bathroom door. He had to at least look as if he was considering. He pointed at another door.

“That leads to a half basement—sump pump and hot-water tank are down there,” Lucy offered.

After a cursory glance into the bedroom, he opened the back door and stepped out on the porch.

“Be careful.” Her voice grew closer. “The floorboards on that side are old.”

Eli pressed his boot against a board that bowed from his weight. Several of the planks were broken and there were some gaps where wood should have been. He lifted his head. The air smelled of pine. The breeze brushed his cheeks. A guy could get used to this. “I definitely want to take it.”

Lucy came to the open door. “I’m glad to hear that.” She pointed to a hole in the porch. “My friend Nelson is coming this afternoon to help me fix this. I do upkeep as I get the funds.”

“The porch is not really what you notice when you step out here.” He pointed to the view of the open field and the surrounding evergreens.

“It’s the reason I stay.” A faint smile graced her lips.

Ah, so the way to this woman’s heart is to mention the beautiful landscape.

“I have rental forms for you to fill out. The lease is month-to-month.” She stood, twisting the knob. “Does that sound good to you, Detective Hawkins?”

Obviously, her name choice indicated she wanted the relationship to be about business. It would be nice though if she would call him by his first name. “I did a little digging into your robbery.”

“I did some work, too. I wrote out a description of what was taken. There wasn’t anything else missing from the room besides the jewelry and the fishing rod.” She stepped out on the porch and stood three feet from him. “What did you find out?”

“Couple down the road had a laptop and money taken a few weeks ago.”

She crossed her arms. The breeze stirred the wispy hair around her face. She gazed at him with wide, round eyes—blue eyes, just like the other victims.

“I don’t know if this is important or not, but I wasn’t supposed to be home the night of the robbery. I delayed a fly fishing clinic because of the storm. It rains a lot in May.”

“Who would have known you were gone?”

Lucy let out a gust of air. “Everyone.”

He chuckled. “Oh, I forgot, small town.”

She stepped away from him and stared out at the forest that surrounded her property. “What made you want to leave the city? I’m sure work in Spokane was more exciting.”

He chose his answer with care, not wanting to reveal more than he had to. “Change of pace.” He pressed on a weak floorboard with his foot. “So, the robber might have been surprised when you came down those stairs?”

“I hadn’t told anyone other than the clients that I decided to cancel.”

He hadn’t seen any sign of forced entry. “Your doors were unlocked?”

“I never had a reason to lock them…until now. I’m looking into getting a security latch for the window, too.”

Eli recalled the layout of Lucy’s house. “The thief could have entered from either door?”

Lucy shaded her eyes from the sun as she stepped farther out on the porch. “He probably entered from this side, the back side. There is a road beyond that forest where he could have parked his car.”

“So he entered by the door that led into the kitchen and left by the bedroom window.” If he had come up on the front side, neighbors might have seen his car. There had been some premeditation to the whole thing. Somehow, it just didn’t feel like some kid wandering the neighborhood looking for unlocked doors.

One of the teenage students, a girl with hunched shoulders and chubby cheeks, peeked around to the back side of the house. “Miss Kimbol, Tyler got his line snagged on a bush.”

“I’ll be there, Marnie.” She turned toward Eli after jumping off the porch. “Rent is due on the first, and there is a three-hundred-dollar deposit.”

She disappeared around the corner of the house.

Eli leaned against a porch post. That had gone better than he had hoped. She hadn’t been warm, but she hadn’t been hostile, either. He’d have to find a way to change that. It would be easier to protect her if she trusted him.

Solving her robbery and recovering the stolen items would go a long way toward rebuilding her confidence in the police. Finding out why her trust had been broken in the first place would help even more.

Shortly after a parent came for the last student, Lucy heard Nelson’s truck pull up and she bounded out onto the porch. Even before she had made her way to the truck, Lucy heard Eli’s tenor voice behind her.

“I could help out. I worked construction during college.”

She whirled around to face him. Eli’s hands hung at his sides. He squared his shoulders like a soldier waiting inspection.

Why was he being so nice? “I know I said I didn’t like the police. Believe me, I have my reasons. Are you offering to do repairs to prove to me that cops are okay?” If that was why he wanted to help, he would want to hear the whole story and she had no desire to revisit that part of her past. “Don’t feel like you have to be the police ambassador for Mountain Springs.”

Eli’s shoulders slumped. “I’m just trying to be a good neighbor.” He offered her a megawatt smile. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

She tilted her head skyward. Partly to show exasperation and partly so she didn’t have to look at him. There was something puppy-dog cute about him that she didn’t want to give in to. “Don’t you have moving in to do, Mr. Hawkins?”

He held his hands up, palms to the sky. “All done.”

Eli had a certain charm, but something about him didn’t ring true. What kind of a person gets moved into a place in less than an hour? He must have brought the stuff with him, which meant he had intended to move in regardless of what the rental looked like. Suspicion sparked in her heart. She took a step back.

As if he had read her mind, he said, “The move was kind of fast. I heard at the last minute that I had the job. So I just threw everything in my car and drove from Washington.”

She hadn’t thought her apprehension was noticeable. He sure was good at reading her signals. While Eli wasn’t at the top of her list for renters, she had been grateful when he’d shown up. Since the robbery, she’d been jumpy, uncomfortable in her own home. Having a close neighbor might make her feel safer. Now she wasn’t so sure if Eli was the right choice.

Nelson got out of the truck and ambled toward Eli and Lucy. Nelson was one of those men who showed up well groomed even for something like fixing a porch. He’d gelled his hair. His jeans and work shirt looked pressed. When they had known each other in high school, Lucy had joked that he was the kind of guy who dressed up to go to the Laundromat.

Eli held out a hand. “I’m Eli Hawkins. Lucy’s new renter.”

Nelson nodded. “Nelson Thane. I am an old friend of Lucy’s.”

Lucy placed a hand on Nelson’s shoulder. “We lost touch when Nelson got a job out of state after high school graduation.”

“I missed Mountain Springs and the people.” Nelson lifted some boards out of the back of his truck. “So now I’m back, teaching English to high school students.”

Eli lifted a can of stain from the back of the truck. “I’d love to give you a hand.”

Lucy opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything, Nelson responded. “Jump in. The more hands, the faster it goes. Right, Lucy?”

Eli offered Lucy a victorious lift of his eyebrow in response to her scowl.

Talk about pushy. Lucy pressed her lips together, but resisted rolling her eyes. “You’re probably right,” she relented.

They moved the supplies to the back of the house and started by tearing up floorboards. Eli worked at an impressive pace, stopping only when Lucy offered him a drink of water.

Sweat glistened on his forehead as he gulped from the glass.

“So would this repair work have anything to do with your date?” Nelson gathered the damaged wood and placed it in a pile.

Lucy put her hand on her hips. “You’ve been talking to Heather. She says I need to give Greg more of a chance. Fixing the porch isn’t to impress him. We made plans to go into town.”

Eli cleared his throat.

Nelson hammered on a warped board with a vicious intensity. He stopped to catch his breath, waving the hammer in the air. “I don’t know if online is the best place to find true love anyway.”

“I’m just doing this as a favor to Heather.”

Eli handed the glass back to Lucy. “Is this the guy you were in the café with the other day?”

Lucy met Eli’s gaze. A hint of anxiety lay beneath his question despite his attempt at casualness. “Yes, Eli, it is. He’s a nice guy.”

“I’m with Nelson. I don’t think an online service is the best way to go. It’s too easy for people, especially guys, to be deceptive.”

Lucy’s spine stiffened. What business was it of his who she dated? If anyone knew about being deceptive, it was him. He was the one who had moved into his place with almost nothing and had decided to take it before he’d even seen it. What was he up to, anyway?

She tried to keep her tone friendly. “Really, guys, I appreciate the feedback. I can take care of myself.” She was just doing this to prove to Heather that no matter how much of a chance she gave Greg, nothing would spark between them. If she went on one more date with Greg and there was still nothing but friendly feelings, maybe Heather would quit matchmaking altogether.

Besides, Greg was a sweet man, and she wanted to find a way to tell him she wasn’t interested without hurting his feelings. As Lucy placed the claw end of her hammer under a nail and rocked it back and forth, her irritation grew. Why was everyone trying to run her love life?

She pulled out several nails and tossed them in the coffee can they were using for waste. Then she pounded on the rotted boards to break them up and loosen them.

When she looked up, breathless from the exertion, both men were staring at her. She readjusted the baseball hat she’d been using to hold her hair out of her eyes. “What?”

Eli grinned. “I would hate to be one of those boards.”

When he smiled, his eyes sparkled. A laugh escaped her lips. She’d let herself get way too worked up. “Guess I was being a little mean to the wood.”

Eli surveyed the area around her house. “Where are the tools to cut and place the new boards?”

Lucy sat up straight and massaged the small of her back. “Over in the shed. Why don’t you guys go get them, since I’ve been doing all the hard work?” she joked.

Eli glanced back at Lucy as he and Nelson walked toward the shed. She had taken the baseball cap off to wipe her brow. The thought of her being alone with Greg terrified him. The more time she spent with him, the more danger she might be in. Was it worth blowing the secrecy of the investigation to tell her that Greg was a suspect? Given her distrust of cops, she probably wouldn’t believe him anyway.

Nelson opened the shed door and clicked on the light. The shed had a concrete floor. A kayak and a variety of fishing poles lined one wall. Saws, drills and other assorted tools cluttered a table in a far corner.

Dust danced in the cylinders of light created by two small windows. Eli’s eyes adjusted to the dimness. He whistled. “Lucy has some pretty nice tools.”

“I think she got most of these from her brother.” Nelson grabbed a piece of plywood leaning against a wall.

“Her brother?”

The scraping of wood against concrete drowned out Eli’s question. Nelson pointed toward a corner of the shed. “If you want to grab the sawhorses, we can set up the tables.”

Eli picked up a sawhorse in each hand. “So you don’t like the idea of Lucy doing this online thing?” Maybe he could get Nelson to talk Lucy out of seeing Greg.

Nelson shrugged. “Lucy does what Lucy wants to do. I don’t think we have much to worry about. After a few dates, she’ll just decide she wants to be friends. That’s her usual pattern. It started with me in high school.”

“You dated Lucy?”

“All water under the bridge. She became a Christian a little before her mom died. We didn’t share the same faith. She didn’t want to date anymore.”

Eli detected just a hint of hurt in Nelson’s comments. They stepped back out into the sunlight. Lucy had gathered the rotting wood into a pile and was in the process of backing Nelson’s truck up to it.

They worked through the afternoon. Lucy loaded the old wood to be hauled away. Nelson cut and measured boards. Lucy brought the boards to Eli and helped put them in place so he could drive the nails in.

It was late in the day when they all stood back to admire their handiwork.

“You guys did a good job.” As she stood between them, Lucy wrapped an arm around each man. “I’ll just have to stain it tomorrow.”

Eli’s cell rang. William’s voice came on the other end of the line. “Hawkins, I got a little info you might be interested in.”

“Just a second.” Eli stepped away so Lucy and Nelson wouldn’t be able to hear the call. He ambled toward his side of the duplex. “Whatcha got?”

“The other day in the café, Greg Jackson mentioned the name of the small town where he grew up in Colorado. I remembered I had a P.I. buddy down there who owed me a favor. He tracked down a childhood friend of Jackson’s.”

Eli tensed. “Is the probing going to get back to Jackson? That could blow everything.” The last thing they needed was for any of the suspects to know they were looking into their lives.

“Relax, this isn’t my first day at camp. The friend hasn’t had contact with Greg in years. They were in the same FFA club in high school. My detective friend didn’t put up any flags. He just followed the guy into a bar and struck up a conversation with him. We are being very careful.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to snap at you.” If there was anyone he trusted to maintain the integrity of the investigation, it was William. Lucy’s resistance to his advice about Greg had made him tense. “What did you find out?”

“Greg had a troubled childhood. Mom was repeatedly treated for ‘injuries’ until she finally divorced Dad. As we already knew, most of Greg’s crimes fall into the under-eighteen sealed category, except for that one assault charge when he was nineteen. The high school friend said that after that, Greg supposedly found God and got his life straightened out.”

Eli turned to watch as Lucy hugged Nelson goodbye. Nelson climbed into his truck. He waved at Eli and drove around to the other side of the house. “People do find healing in their faith, William.”

“And sometimes that stuff lies just beneath the surface waiting to erupt.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Christ could transform lives, but religion could also mask unresolved issues. “Is there anything else?”

“While I was briefing all the small police departments who are going to help us, one of the highway patrol officers recognized Jackson’s picture. Couple of weeks back, Jackson had a little bit of a run-in with this highway patrol officer for speeding.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“The officer was female, and he put his hands on her neck. A court date is pending.”

A shiver ran down Eli’s back. Lucy stopped picking up debris and tools long enough to shade her eyes and look in Eli’s direction. He had to keep her away from Greg.

“Eli, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

Eli’s pulse rate skyrocketed. He watched Lucy gather the lighter tools. He fought to maintain the objectivity required of his job, to keep his emotions at bay. Where Lucy’s safety was concerned, that was hard to do.

William broke into his thoughts. “We are still trying to dig stuff up on the other three suspects. See you tonight for the surveillance in Three Dot.”

“Keep me posted.” Eli clicked off his phone and strode over to where Lucy was attempting to lift the heavy saw. “Let me help you with that.”

She set the saw back down and faced him. “Long phone call.”

She was close enough for him to smell the floral scent of her perfume. Even in a ratty T-shirt and jeans, she looked radiant. “Yeah.”

“Not going to tell me more?” She picked up a bucket of nails.

“Just some police stuff.” He bent over and lifted the saw. He carried the saw while she trailed behind with the bucket.

They entered the shed. He heaved the saw onto a counter. He had to try one more time.

“Listen, Lucy, I know you have the right to make your own choices, but I got a creepy vibe from Greg Jackson when we were in the restaurant the other day.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand. “I know you don’t like people interfering. I grew up with two sisters, and I had like a ninety-percent success rate with predicting when a guy was bad news.”

Her expression hardened, and he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

“We have to get the rest of these tools put away.” She stalked toward the door. “By the way, if you are trying to succeed on your mission to convince me that cops are okay, this hyperprotective thing is not how to do it.”

He darted toward her and grabbed her arm. “Please Lucy, I am just asking you to trust me. I can’t explain why, but please just trust me.”

She studied him for a moment. “You barely know me. I don’t understand why you would even care.”

“It’s in my cop DNA. Though my partner says I have an overdeveloped need to protect people.”

“Your partner might be right.” The resolve he saw in her eyes was unwavering.

He let go of her arm. “I had a good time this afternoon helping you. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” It was the truest thing he could say to her.

Her stiff posture softened. “I had a good time, too.” She patted him on the arm. “We make a good team.” She checked her watch. “I have to get cleaned up for my date.” She walked out of the shed.

As he followed her outside, panic spread through him. A lump swelled in his throat. He steadied his voice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interfere. Your business is your business.”

She lifted her chin. Her skin looked translucent in the early evening sun. “Thank you. I think we will get along fine if you keep that in mind.”

He wanted to know if she was going to be alone with Jackson. Would she be in a safe place, a public place? But it was obvious that probing her about the date would be fruitless.

Eli said goodbye and went back into his house. He showered, unpacked his minimal belongings and then spent some time making a list of what he needed to get in town for his new home. He flipped open his laptop and opened the investigation folder. Some surveillance photos and reports were already coming in.

He came across a photo of a woman with dark hair leaving a movie theater with suspect number two. His stomach tightened. He couldn’t leave Lucy alone with Greg. He had to do something.

He checked the schedule for where he had put his surveillance team. None were assigned to keep an eye on Jackson, and he was supposed to drive out to a small town called Three Dot, where an undercover female officer had set up a date with one of the other suspects.

Even as he dialed William’s cell, he kept one ear tuned to the road, waiting to hear Greg Jackson’s approaching car.

“Yup.” William answered on the fourth ring. “Calling back so soon?”

Eli moved the curtain back from the window, thinking he had heard something. The only vehicles in the driveway were his own and Lucy’s. “Listen, I was looking at the schedule. We don’t have anyone on Jackson tonight.” The silence on the other end of the line told him that William was probably clenching his jaw.

“It was your idea that with the limited manpower the rotating surveillance was what would work best.”

Eli pressed the phone harder against his ear. “I just found out Jackson has a date tonight.”

“It didn’t come up on the phone taps or through e-mail. He must have made the date in person.”

“I know we can’t be everywhere at once, but—” Even as he spoke, he knew that what he was suggesting was unrealistic. “I’m just concerned about Lucy.”

“Lucy isn’t the only potential victim. We got a undercover female officer who has made contact with two of the other suspects.”

Eli closed his eyes. William was right. From an investigative standpoint, they were more likely to get information that could lead to warrants and arrests from a trained officer probing the suspect than from watching a suspect on a date. “It’s just that Lucy looks so much like the others. I’m afraid for her.”

“I don’t want to risk another life, either.”

Eli paced through the bare kitchen of his new home, his resolve growing. “O’Bannon and Peterson here in Mountain Springs don’t have lots of surveillance experience. I could use this as a training exercise.”

On the other end of the line papers fluttered. William must have been looking through notes. “We do have an officer in Three Dot who’s been briefed and is dying to learn. I could pull him in.”

“Thanks, Springer.”

“If we catch this guy, we don’t have to worry about anyone dying.”

“Five women have lost their lives already.” Eli pressed the phone a little harder against his ear. “I just don’t want anyone to die on my watch.”

Eli hung up the phone and stared out the window, rubbing his chin. Now he just needed to keep Lucy safe tonight.

Lucy took out her agitation on the vegetables she was chopping for salad. Eli Hawkins was nosy. What business of his was it where she was going and who she was dating? Who appointed him the goodwill ambassador for all cops?

She placed the tomatoes she had been chopping into the plastic container she planned on taking to her picnic with Greg. Heather was right. She did turn potential suitors into friends pretty quickly. At the same time, it was wrong to lead men on. If there was no chemistry, there was no chemistry.

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a cucumber. Her hair was still wet from her shower, and she needed to put some makeup on.

There was a park in Mountain Springs that had several gazebos where they could eat their picnic. It wouldn’t be too crowded this time of night. Lucy peeled the cucumber.

Maybe it was a good thing that she rented the duplex month-to-month. If Eli continued to be such a pain, she would have to tell him to find a different place.

She smiled. It had been nice of him to help with the deck repairs, she did need the money from rent and having someone next door did make her feel safer.

She brought the knife down on the cucumber and sliced through. The blade hit the cutting board with a regular rhythm.

She had no desire to explain to Eli why there was antagonism between her and the local police. He’d probably take their side anyway. Cops always stuck together, always defended each other.

As much as she appreciated Eli’s help this afternoon, the best arrangement would be for him to keep his distance. There was no law that said neighbors had to be friends; they just had to be cordial.

Lucy pulled two bottled iced teas from the refrigerator, as well as the containers that held the sandwiches she had made earlier. She placed everything in a picnic basket and then went into her bedroom to change into the sundress she had picked out.

She ran a comb through her hair and put on some liner and lipstick. She glanced at herself in the mirror. The cornflower-blue sundress made her eyes look even bluer. Maybe she should change into something dowdier. If this was the date where she told Greg she just wanted to be friends, maybe she shouldn’t overdo it with dressing up. She opted to keep the dress on, but toned down her makeup.

Once back in the living room, Lucy grabbed her cell phone off the counter to check the time. Ten more minutes until Greg got here. Heather had sent her a text message: U promised.

Lucy shook her head. What were best friends for but to turn your plans upside down? Heather was doing this because she cared. Her perceptive friend saw something lacking in Lucy’s life. She would give Greg another chance.

She dug through her living-room closet in search of something that would work for a light summer cover-up. Maybe that magic electrical attraction thing happened after you’d known each other awhile. She laughed. And maybe it was just something people read about in books.

She pulled a silk wrap off a hanger. What did she know about serious relationships anyway? She and Nelson had been pretty serious in high school, but she had only been seventeen. The only other serious relationship had been with Matthew. She’d broken off her engagement with him when her brother, Dawson, had his accident and she’d had to put her energy into caring for him. After that, she had lost all interest in dating.

Lucy flung the wrap over her shoulder and peered out the window. No sign of Greg. She hadn’t thought about Matthew in years. Matthew had been a sweet, supportive man. She had taken a premarriage class at church and, along with the other students, had come up with a list of character qualities they’d wanted in a mate. Matthew had fit the criteria. In retrospect, she hadn’t really loved him.

Lucy stroked the smooth silk of the wrap where it rested on her arms. Somehow she didn’t think that love should be as clinical as a checklist. Sure, she’d had friends act on their emotions and end up in bad marriages, but it shouldn’t be like choosing a health insurance plan, either.

She wandered over to the picnic basket. She rearranged what she had packed and decided to grab some cookies out of the cookie jar. She opened a cupboard, searching for a container for the cookies.

Maybe that was the problem with this online dating thing. You gave a list of the criteria you thought you wanted in a mate, but none of that factored in attraction. Sometimes people could be attracted to someone who didn’t meet any of their criteria. Sometimes, what you thought you wanted wasn’t what you needed.

Lucy pulled out a container. Really, it was possible to like someone who was so obviously wrong for you. Someone like Eli Hawkins, for instance. She shook her head as she stacked the containers on top of each other. What on earth had made her think of that?

She placed the cookies in the container and slammed on the lid.

Outside, tires crunched on gravel.

Lucy walked the few steps to look out the window. Greg had just gotten out of his car. He was holding a large bouquet of tulips. How sweet. There was something poignant about the look of hopeful expectation on his face.

Lucy drew back from the window. Heather was right. She needed to open her heart up to the possibility that there could be something between them.

FOUR

Eli pulled the curtain back to check the front yard. Greg’s car sat in the driveway.

If he could find out the location of their date, O’Bannon and Peterson could get set up ahead of time. Lucy certainly wasn’t going to give him that information. Greg got out of the car; Eli flung the door open and stepped down the stairs.

Greg cocked his head as though surprised to see Eli. “Who are you?”

Eli held out his hand. “I’m Eli Hawkins, Lucy’s new renter.”

Greg’s lips flattened and wrinkles appeared in his forehead as he extended his own hand. “Lucy never said anything about a renter.”

“I moved in earlier today.” Eli studied the man in front of him. Had he just shaken hands with a killer?

“Oh, well, that explains it.” Greg crossed his arms over his chest. His stare had an unnerving intensity to it, like he was picking Eli apart with his eyes.

Eli nodded for several seconds. The guy wasn’t exactly Mr. Friendly.

Greg glanced at Lucy’s door and then continued with his inch-by-inch scrutiny of Eli. “So what made you decide to rent Lucy’s place?”

“Just answered an ad.” Certainly, Greg didn’t see him as some kind of romantic competition. Maybe he was one of those guys who was so controlling, he didn’t want his date even talking to any other men. “You and Lucy are going out somewhere tonight?”

Greg’s head jerked up in response to the question. “Lucy picked out the place. Some little park in town.”

“Sounds like fun. Which park is that?” When Greg drew his eyebrows together as though suspicious of the question, Eli added, “I’m new in town. Just trying to get to know the area.”

“I don’t know the name. I’m not from here. I live in Jacob’s Corner, about sixty miles from here.” Greg angled his head toward the sky. “I don’t know if a picnic is such a good idea. Those clouds look kind of dark and foreboding.”

Lucy’s door opened and she appeared, holding a picnic basket. Eli’s breath caught. She looked stunning in her blue sundress. Her long hair flowed freely.

Lucy’s stride slowed when she saw Eli. She sauntered over to Greg’s car. “So you’ve met Greg?”

Eli pointed to his car. “I was headed out to do some work-related things. Just thought I would introduce myself.” Eli excused himself.

Even as he ambled toward his car, Eli’s muscles tensed. So much pointed to Greg Jackson in terms of past behavior. His instant suspicion of Eli was just one more personality indicator. Would he be able to keep Lucy safe? Eli started his engine and shifted into Reverse. Greg and Lucy were just getting into the car as Eli pulled onto the gravel road.

When he phoned into the Mountain Springs police station, Officer O’Bannon answered. He had met O’Bannon only briefly. He was an older officer who was probably a few years from retirement. Since his arrival from Spokane, he had spent most of his time briefing all the small-town police departments and figuring out how he was going to shift manpower around to keep eyes on the suspects for the maximum amount of time.

After Eli explained the circumstances of the surveillance to O’Bannon, he added, “I don’t know the name of the park.”

“There are only two parks in town.” O’Bannon’s husky voice hinted of a longtime smoking habit. “Chances are they’re headed to Memorial Park. It’s got gazebos and borders the river. The other one is more of a kid park with swings and stuff.”

“You can check the file to see a picture of Greg Jackson. He’s driving a gold Buick LeSabre, late eighties model. First two digits of the license are 67. You go ahead and get into position. Tell Peterson I will meet him at the station. Jackson might recognize my car so I need to switch.”

“And who is the lady he is with? I’ve lived here some twenty years. I know most everyone. Is she a local gal?”

Eli hesitated. Lucy had implied that she didn’t have a lot of faith in the Mountain Springs police. “Lucy Kimbol.”

Eli listened to phone static while he turned onto a paved road. So the ill feelings between Lucy and the department were mutual.

Finally O’Bannon huffed an “Oh, really.”

On the night of his arrival, two of the officers had pushed hard for him to handle the call from Lucy. O’Bannon had been one of them. Officer Spitz, the other older officer, had been the other. Lucy sure wasn’t going to tell him the root of the animosity. “What is it with you guys and Lucy Kimbol?”

Again, O’Bannon’s response was long in coming. “Let’s just say Lucy Kimbol is a troublemaker and she has been since she was in high school.”

As much as he wanted to get to the bottom of the bad blood between Lucy and the department, Eli didn’t press the issue. He needed O’Bannon’s cooperation tonight.

Eli drove into town and pulled into the police station lot. The sky had turned a dark gray when he stepped out of his car. Officer Nigel Peterson, a young officer with red hair, was waiting for him outside.

Peterson held up a gear bag. “Camera, binoculars and two-way radios.”

Normally surveillance involved scouting an area ahead of time. Doing the surveillance on the fly meant there wouldn’t be time to set up audio or video equipment. An open area like a park wasn’t conducive to that kind of setup anyway.

Eli slipped into the car with Peterson. The drive to the park took all of five minutes. O’Bannon was waiting there for them. Judging from the jowls and paunch, O’Bannon had to at least be in his late fifties. He had a full head of black wavy hair and a muscular build. Jackson’s car wasn’t in the lot when they pulled in.

A quick assessment of the layout of the park caused the tightness to return to Eli’s chest. Other than a small pavilion with picnic tables and two gazebos, the ground was more forest than park. The landscape provided a thousand places where someone could disappear from view.

A quick scan of the area revealed about ten to twelve people walking dogs, sitting on benches and eating at picnic tables. A couple emerged from a clump of trees. It wasn’t Jackson and Lucy. Her blue sundress would make her easy enough to keep track of.

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