“Get down!” Annabel screamed.

She rushed at Jesse, trying to cover him with her body. She shoved him back inside the house. They toppled over each other, Jesse catching her before she hit the ground. She kicked the door closed with her foot.

Lying on top of him, she met his gaze, and her entire body shuddered with desire. “There’s a shooter,” she said, perhaps stating the obvious but feeling she needed to provide a reason she had tackled him.

He smelled good, like mint and earth. Realizing she was in an intimate position, chest to chest, thigh to thigh, she rolled to the side, moving off him.

She came to her feet and crouched by the front window to watch for movement in the distance or even catch a glimpse of the shooter. “Someone was shooting at me, bullets coming toward my car and your house.”

Jesse left the room and came back with a rifle. She felt no danger from him, despite the anger in his eyes.

“I’ll defend you,” he said. “You have my word.”

* * *

The Coltons of Texas: Finding love and buried family secrets in the Lone Star state …

Colton’s Texas Stakeout

C. J. Miller

www.millsandboon.co.uk

C. J. MILLER loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted through her website: www.cj-miller.com. She lives in Maryland with her husband and three children. C. J. believes in first loves, second chances and happily ever after.

To my friend Amanda W. I am proud of all you’ve accomplished. The future holds many wonderful things! Thank you for your friendship and your fashion advice.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Annabel Colton’s thoughts veered off course at the sight of the handsome cowboy sauntering into the police precinct. Though he looked familiar, she couldn’t place him as a resident of Granite Gulch, Texas. She would have remembered seeing the man of her dreams strutting around town. Granite Gulch was a small town, and having lived there all her life, Annabel knew almost everyone.

Just like almost everyone knew the Coltons. Not everything said about the Coltons was good but lately, mostly positive. Annabel considered that an accomplishment.

The sexy cowboy swaggered, confidence in spades, all six foot something moving through the precinct with determination and purpose. His blue-and-white plaid shirt covered broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled to the elbows; his worn jeans hung on him in just the right way, and he wore dusty boots, carrying his brown Stetson in his hand.

Annabel checked her mouth wasn’t hanging open and averted her eyes to watch him in her peripheral vision. Her heart was hammering, and she felt dizzy. She took a deep breath. Women in Texas hadn’t swooned in a century, and she wasn’t bringing it back into style.

The sexy cowboy distraction took the edge off her frustration. She was working—rather marginally—on the biggest case to hit Granite Gulch in twenty years. A serial killer, nicknamed the Alphabet Killer, was stalking and killing women in and around Blackthorn County. The killer had taken the lives of six victims: Anna, Brittany, Celia, Daphne, Erica and Francie, in that order. The killer’s obsession with the alphabet was one of their best leads in the case.

The police had been close to finding the Alphabet Killer, using clues Annabel had pieced together from reading the letters the killer had written to Matthew Colton.

Matthew Colton was Annabel’s biological father, an incarcerated serial killer, dying of cancer with only a few months to live. His killing spree had ended in the death of Annabel’s beloved, hardworking mother. Annabel’s brother Ethan remembered seeing Saralee Colton’s dead body in their farmhouse, a bull’s-eye drawn on her forehead, but she hadn’t been found. It was a source of great pain for Annabel and her siblings. Matthew Colton was dangling information in front of his children about where Saralee’s body might be located. Like everything Matthew Colton did, he had an agenda. He did nothing for the sake of kindness, not even for his children.

The Alphabet Killer, who the police now believed was a woman named Regina Willard, was still free on the streets hunting for her next victim. If the killer stuck to her pattern, women whose names began with G were on the chopping block. The entire county was worried. This was the second time the town had been terrorized by a serial killer, and whispers and rumors about Matthew Colton and the similarities between the killers had been at an all-time high.

Annabel’s curiosity grew when the cowboy stopped at her brother Sam Colton’s desk. Sam, a detective for the Granite Gulch Police Department, and her oldest brother, Trevor, an FBI profiler, had been in deep discussion. They had not looped her into their conversations, likely centering around the Alphabet Killer. The extent of her involvement in the high-profile case had been to read the letters from Regina to Matthew Colton and provide what clues and interpretations she could. The Granite Gulch police chief, Jim Murray, had believed Annabel might have some insight, being a fresh graduate of the academy and known for her keen attention to detail. He had been right. She had pointed the FBI to the boardinghouse in Rosewood where Regina had been staying.

Sam and Trevor straightened as the cowboy spoke to them. Their body language was defensive, and after several exchanges, the three men looked ready to throw fists.

When her brothers led the man to the interrogation room, Annabel beelined for the observation deck. If Trevor and Sam wanted to speak to this man, then it had to be about the Alphabet Killer. She wanted to know how he was involved. Could they finally have a witness who could provide a solid lead?

Watching the man up close, Annabel confirmed her initial assessment. He was gorgeous. His blond hair was cut longer but kept neat, and his green eyes were piercing. She was glad he decided to sit facing the one-way mirror. She could read his expression and body language.

Given his clothes and build, he could work on any of the nearby farms or ranches and be new to the area. Her friend Mia was usually the first to know about any eligible bachelors who moved to Granite Gulch. Maybe this emerald-eyed cowboy was already taken and, thus, why Mia hadn’t mentioned him. That would figure. All the best ones were.

Focusing on the conversation, Annabel turned on the listening speaker, hoping the pop didn’t draw her brothers’ attention. They wanted her uninvolved in the Alphabet Killer case, even though she had made an important contribution to it. She was a rookie on the force, and her brothers believed she needed to earn her chops before catching a real case.

The cowboy had laid his hat on the table in front of him. “I’ve been cooperative. I’ve answered your questions at length. Please, leave me and my employees alone. You’re impacting my business, and I can’t allow that to continue.”

As his statements fell into context, Annabel placed him. Jesse Willard, brother to the prime suspect in the alphabet killings. Annabel had seen a photo of him in the case file as a person of interest in assisting Regina Willard. The police and FBI suspected Regina Willard had help hiding from and dodging the authorities, but they hadn’t pinned down who exactly was assisting her. Her personal history was marred with failed relationships. Her parents were dead. But Regina had to have an ally to evade the police and FBI this long.

“We’re trying to stop a murderer. We’re not backing down from any leads until we find Regina,” Sam said.

Trevor was watching the exchange with his dark, assessing gaze. Annabel didn’t mistake his silence for disinterest. Trevor was analytical and intelligent. He was likely scrutinizing every movement, every eyebrow raise and every twitch of Jesse’s hand.

According to the case notes and what Annabel had overheard around the precinct, Trevor had spoken to Jesse before, but Annabel could picture him waiting for Jesse to inadvertently give something away that would help them find Regina.

Jesse plowed a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ve told you before. I am not hiding my sister. I haven’t seen her in years.”

“How do we know you’ll come forward if you see her? What if she stops by your farm? Will you alert us?” Sam asked.

Jesse stared at Sam for a long moment, unblinking. His mouth twitched as if checking his words and trying to wrangle his temper under control. “While I am not convinced Regina has anything to do with these murders, if I saw her, I would let her know you wanted to speak with her. I’ll even drive her here myself. I want to put this matter behind me. It’s bad for business.”

“We have undercover FBI agents and police officers across the state looking for Regina. She hasn’t turned up. She’s getting help from someone,” Sam said. He folded his arms and looked pointedly at Jesse.

Annabel flinched, sensing Sam was pushing Jesse too hard. He had come to the police station on his own accord. If he was involved with a murderer, he would avoid the police. Something about his face and his body language told Annabel he was telling the truth about Regina, and that was disappointing. He didn’t know where Regina was, and, therefore, they still didn’t have a solid lead to follow.

That didn’t mean Regina wouldn’t turn up at Jesse’s farm in the near future, but for now, Jesse wasn’t hiding her.

“I can see I’ve wasted my time coming down here,” Jesse said and stood to leave.

He wasn’t under arrest, and they couldn’t hold him and barrage him with questions. As he walked toward the door, Annabel shut off the speaker and hurried back toward the information desk. Her assignment was the dullest in the entire department, and she’d pretend she hadn’t been listening to the conversation.

As she rounded the corner, she slammed into Jesse and lost her balance. He smelled of earth and spices, a masculine, clean scent. He reached to steady her, grabbing her arm with his free hand, his Stetson in the other. His grip was strong and firm. Her heart fluttered as she lifted her gaze to meet his. As their eyes met, she was struck all over again by how devastatingly handsome he was and how his green eyes seemed to see into her soul. Electricity and heat snapped between them. Annabel didn’t know she could feel this intensely for a man she hadn’t exchanged one word with. Did Jesse feel it, too?

Her breasts brushed his hard chest, and she felt every nerve ending in her body come to attention. Long-slumbering desire roared awake. She was already imagining rubbing her body against his, kissing his perfect mouth and running her hands across his hard body.

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice coming out breathy.

He nodded at her once swiftly. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

Nothing in his face gave away he was having the same dirty thoughts about her that she was about him. “I’m fine.”

He released her arm, and she dropped her hand from the front of his shirt where she had been holding on to the fabric. It wasn’t in her nature to play the damsel in distress, especially when she was in uniform, but something about him made her want to blush, bat her eyelashes and giggle.

“Have a good day,” he said.

Why couldn’t she think of something clever to say? Something to flirt with him, to convince him to stick around another few minutes? Flirting wasn’t her forte, and in front of Jesse, she felt tongue-tied.

As he walked away, she turned to watch him leave, appreciating how his jeans hung low on the tilt of his hips and—

“Annabel.”

She turned at the sound of her name. Sam was glaring at her. Trevor was assessing her. She set her hand on her hip, giving them as much sass as she could muster. “What?”

“What are you doing? Do you know who that man is?” Sam asked.

“Jesse Willard. Person of interest in an ongoing investigation,” she said, feeling hot and bothered and trying to pretend to be unaffected by her run-in with Jesse. Could her brothers see on her face she was attracted to Jesse? It had been obvious to her, and she felt her brothers would be quick to pick up on changes in her expression or body language.

“Person of interest in a serial-killer investigation. Watch yourself,” Sam said.

Though younger than her, Sam outranked her in the Granite Gulch Police Department. She wanted to shoot her mouth off and remind him that she was a police officer, she could handle herself, and she didn’t need his warning. But she kept her mouth shut, knowing her rookie status combined with Sam’s in with their boss, Chief Jim Murray, could mean she’d face another week of the world’s most boring assignments. As it was, she was doomed to a morning of fielding nonimportant, nonemergency calls, like explaining to the town busybody why a couple’s consensual, adult affair wasn’t a matter for the police or why a missing cat didn’t warrant a fire department, EMT and police response.

“Yes, sir,” she said, keeping her mocking tone to a minimum. She loved her brothers, but they could be overprotective pains in her side.

She returned to the information desk, her body still buzzing from the contact with Jesse Willard. After answering the phones for three hours, her partner, Luis Gonzales, arrived. At least in the afternoon, she and Luis would work the streets, heading out in the squad car and responding to emergencies. Though her brother’s influence in the GGPD meant she and Luis would catch the tamest emergency calls, anything was better than sitting at a desk all day.

Annabel had followed her dreams in becoming a police officer, and she hoped, with more hard work, it would be everything she’d imagined. She’d like to stop actual criminals, prevent crime and be a positive influence on the Granite Gulch community. While she alone couldn’t repay the huge debt her father owed society for his crimes, Annabel felt better knowing she was doing her best.

Maybe someday soon, that would start to feel like enough.

* * *

Another farmhand hadn’t shown up for work. Given the week he was having, Jesse Willard was in no mood to deal with additional problems the lack of help created. Longer hours and less sleep, the downsides of being the boss.

Owning a farm had been his dream, and it had its ups and downs. Lately, far more downs than ups.

Several important customers had cancelled their orders with him. They had hedged around the reason, but Jesse knew. He’d heard the rumors circulating in town that his sister—more specifically, his half sister—Regina was involved with the murders around Granite Gulch and nearby towns. Living in a small town meant the close-knit community led folks to believe everyone’s business was their business. Jesse lived forty minutes from Main Street, and he kept his visits to town brief. He was polite but detached when the town busybodies circled him. He preferred to keep to himself, but rumors about Regina were persistent. The Alphabet Killer was big news, and he couldn’t go a day without someone speculating on the reasons for the murders or the next victim.

Jesse didn’t know why the police and FBI suspected Regina. His older sister was a little off, and she could be disagreeable, but that was a far cry from being a murderer. He suspected it was more guesswork than actual evidence involved. Regina wasn’t capable of committing a murder, especially not a series of murders that were as methodical and cold as the media was describing.

Jesse had driven to the police station that morning, thinking the police would be reasonable. He’d thought they could talk man-to-man, but of course those Colton brothers thought they owned Granite Gulch. Their family tree had its share of nuts, but that didn’t slow them down. They thought Regina was the murderer, and they were bent on proving it. Maybe they believed themselves experts because they’d lived through an ordeal with their father. The similarities in the cases, which the media were quick to point out, were disturbing.

Why were they investigating the case anyway? Weren’t there serious conflicts of interest with the children of a serial killer investigating another serial killer, especially when the cases were connected?

It was another backward thing about Granite Gulch. It ran by its own rules. Add that to the reasons Jesse preferred to keep to himself.

Knowing he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, he headed to the barn. He needed to check his supplies and calculate what to order. Losing customers was rough when his profit margins were slim, but he’d find somewhere to cut extras from the budget.

Some days, he wished he hadn’t bought this farm. He loved being his own boss and setting his own hours, but there was a freedom in working as a farmhand, migrating to a new place on a whim. Setting his own hours often meant working seven days a week to complete tasks, spending ten hours in the field and then handling bills and paperwork another two hours at night.

As he inventoried, Jesse’s thoughts turned to the brunette he had run into that morning at the police precinct. In keeping with his luck, she had been wearing a police uniform. That should have turned him off immediately, but she filled it out nicely and it made him forget how much he detested the sight of the navy uniform in general. The brunette cop was trim and shapely, a woman who could get him going.

Her eyes were intelligent and trusting. She must not have been a cop long. The cops he knew were hard around the edges, having too many experiences with criminals and liars to see the good in people anymore. Most of Jesse’s memories of the police from his childhood were bad: yelling and sweeping in without fixing the problem. When they’d left, it had always been worse.

Maybe the Coltons’ jobs were making them cynical and eager to rush to judgment. They’d grown up with a serial killer for a father who’d murdered their mother. That had to have destroyed them. Who wouldn’t be traumatized by a childhood of violence and loss and spending their careers with liars and criminals? Jesse knew firsthand exactly how hard it was to keep the past as ancient history and not let it creep into everyday life.

“Hey, Mr. Jesse!”

At the sound of Noah’s voice, Jesse’s bad mood lifted. Noah was the son of one of his farmhands and sometimes came with his mother to work. Noah liked talking to Jesse, and since he didn’t cause trouble and his mother worked hard, Jesse didn’t have complaints about him tagging along behind him. He’d actually grown accustomed to the boy’s company and enjoyed listening to his stories.

“Did you hear the good news?” Noah asked.

Jesse could use some good news. “Nah, what did I miss?”

Sometimes, Noah’s news was about his sixth grade class, which wasn’t anything for Jesse to get excited about, but the boy needed to talk. Jesse hoped he could sometimes offer advice to keep Noah on the straight and narrow. He was a good kid, and, despite his father having left Noah and his mom before Noah was born, Noah didn’t seem lacking in parental love.

Noah tipped his red ball cap back on his head. “Mom’s having a baby.”

Jesse stopped, unsure if he had misheard Noah. The boy was right behind him. He turned. “Your mother is pregnant?”

“That’s what she said. It’s a secret, though, so don’t let it get around town.”

Jesse tried to remember what tasks Grace had been assigned for the day. Monitoring the cows? She could get kicked in the stomach. Repairing fencing? That was heavy, hard work. Grace was an experienced farmhand. Should he approach her? Let her know he could give her modified assignments? Offer her leave from work? Jesse knew nothing about babies and even less about pregnancy. What was the right thing to do?

His conscience wouldn’t rest easy until he spoke with Grace. As not to alarm Noah or make the boy think he had caused any problem, he set down his clipboard. “I’ll be right back. Why don’t you give me a hand and take that bag of duck feed to the pond?” It was a task Noah loved, and it had gotten to the point that, when the ducks saw Noah coming, they flocked toward him.

Noah grabbed the small bag of feed. “Okay. Be right back!”

Jesse checked the task schedule. Grace was assigned to the horses that day. He found Grace right where she should have been, feeding the horses. “Hey, Grace.”

She jumped at the sound of her name and turned. “Hey, boss.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. He didn’t want to ask her directly in case she wasn’t ready to talk about it.

Grace was smart. Lines formed around the corners of her eyes. “Noah told you.” She sighed.

He didn’t want the boy in trouble. “He cares about you and so do I. I can pretend not to know until you’re ready to tell me. But I want you to know I have plenty of work that might be less taxing. But it’s up to you, okay?”

Grace brushed her long brown bangs to the side. The rest of her hair was twisted on the back of her head and pinned. “The others will be upset if I’m given the easy work.”

Jesse folded his arms. “There is nothing easy on this farm, and everyone knows it. Plus, I’m the boss. What I say goes. When Tom broke his arm last year in that car accident, no one said a thing when he was given work he could manage.”

Grace’s eyes filled with tears, and she hugged Jesse. “Thank you.” After a couple seconds, she broke away and wiped at her eyes. “I’ve been tired and emotional. I was worried about telling you and the other guys. I don’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment.”

“If anyone has a problem with your work, tell them to speak to me. Got it?”

“Yes, boss,” she said with a smile.

Jesse would leave it at that. He’d adjust the schedule going forward and keep Grace safe. Grace seemed to be unaware that Tom, his foreman, had a soft spot for Grace, and the other guys looked to Tom for guidance. Tom would be fine with whatever Grace did, and the other guys would follow his lead.

As Jesse walked back to the barn, he thought again of the brunette police officer. He didn’t have a good reason to see her again. But maybe he’d go into town to buy a few fencing pliers to replace ones that had broken. If his path crossed with the police officer, it would be well worth the trip.

* * *

“Tough break in Rosewood,” Luis said, adjusting the air-conditioning in the car. It was eighty-three degrees, and it felt hotter inside the vehicle.

Annabel set her iced coffee in the cruiser’s cup holder. “Yeah.” She didn’t want to talk about it. Annabel had agreed to read the letters sent from Regina to Matthew, less as a police officer and more as a relation to Matthew Colton.

Though the police had been too late to catch Regina Willard, her room in Rosewood had convinced them that they had the right person. The walls in Regina’s room had been covered in the alphabet, written in red permanent marker, a bull’s-eye drawn beside each letter and newspaper articles of the victims posted on the walls. Hundreds of clippings, obsessive and disturbing. Regina used the same red marker and the bull’s-eye on the foreheads of her victims after she killed them. “Regina’s in the wind.”

“We’ll get another break,” Luis said.

Regina was no longer writing to Matthew Colton in prison. They had the letters and not much else. The FBI might find something in her room or perhaps they’d receive a tip on their hotline, but the more time that passed, the colder the trail grew. “Hopefully soon.”

“What letter is she up to? G?” Luis asked.

“G,” Annabel confirmed. The Alphabet Killer, while adopting some of Matthew Colton’s rituals, had added some of her own. She was killing women of a certain profile—long, dark hair, twenty to thirty-five years old—in letter order based on her victims’ first names. The police hadn’t caught the pattern until the killer’s third victim, Celia Robison, had been killed on her wedding day. She’d had a bull’s-eye center dot slightly off center to the left drawn on her forehead. Celia had been Sam’s fiancée, and her death had brought the serial killer case even closer to home. So close, in fact, the FBI previously suspected Annabel’s long-lost sister, Josie, of being the Alphabet Killer. Annabel was relieved the FBI had turned their attention away from Josie. No matter what rumors swirled about Josie, Annabel wouldn’t believe her missing sister was a killer.

They had their father’s blood in them, undeniably, but each of Matthew Colton’s children had chosen honorable and respectable jobs on the right side of the law. Though she couldn’t know for sure, Annabel believed the same was true of Josie.

The car radio beeped. Annabel answered and waited for the message and code and tried not to let disappointment nip at her. They had to investigate a missing cat. Again. Annabel hid her annoyance and ignored Luis’s grimace. He was an experienced cop, and before being paired with her, he’d worked much more interesting cases.

After Annabel acknowledged the code and location, Luis made a U-turn in the direction of the house with the missing cat. “You realize this is the same dingbat who lost her cat last week?” Luis asked.

“I realize it,” Annabel said.

“Cat’s probably hiding in her house again,” Luis said. The last time Mrs. Granger had called them to help find her cat, Cubbles had been sleeping in a windowsill.

“She called us. We need to take it seriously,” Annabel said.

“Fine, but I’m not turning on the lights and sirens for this,” Luis said.

“I agree. But we will check the windowsill first,” Annabel said.

This was a familiar discussion between them. Luis had much less patience for calls he considered a waste of police resources. Some of the calls seemed silly, but she was eager to prove herself. They had to respond to calls—even the ones that were a waste of her time. If she could get the chief and Sam to see her as more than a rookie in need of protecting, she might prove to them she was capable of actual police work.

Chapter 2

Ethan and Lizzie had invited the Colton siblings to their ranch house for dinner. Annabel didn’t know how Lizzie was managing to cook dinner for so many people when she was due to have her baby soon. Most days after work, Annabel was so tired she heated dinner in the microwave and had a glass of wine.

Ethan and Lizzie were jazzed about their baby. It was almost hard to watch. They were in love, and after what they had been through, they deserved every moment of happiness they’d found together.

Of course, not all of the Colton siblings would be in attendance. Josie wanted nothing to do with her biological family. Despite Trevor’s FBI resources, Sam’s detective skills and Chris’s PI abilities, they hadn’t been able to locate her.

Annabel wondered what they had done, or hadn’t done, to make Josie hate them. Lizzie had been in foster care with Josie, and she didn’t recall Josie speaking angrily about her siblings. Annabel worried Josie had gotten herself into trouble, perhaps drug use or hanging with the wrong crowd. Given how the Colton siblings had grown up, the statistics weren’t in their favor for them becoming successful and productive members of society. She and her brothers had worked hard in their careers, and Annabel believed her brothers carried the same burden of their father’s crimes with them. Annabel thought Josie had risen above the past, but in dark moments of doubt, concerns plucked at her.

Annabel parked outside the ranch house. She was pleased to see her twin’s white pickup truck in front of the house. Annabel could confide in Chris, and he didn’t seem to resent her new career as a police officer as much as her other siblings. Whether it was because she and Chris had their twin connection or because they’d become and stayed close in high school, he listened to her. She could tell him anything.

Last year when Annabel had graduated from the police academy at the top of her class, she had thought her brothers would see her desire to be a police officer, and one day a detective, wasn’t a whim or an act of defiance against them.

Only Sam had been present at her graduation, and that was because most of the current members of the GGPD attended the ceremony. Her brothers’ absences had hurt her more than she’d ever said. They rarely asked her about her job, nor did they acknowledge her professional accomplishments. Annabel tried to remain calm about it and pretend she didn’t care. Their family was facing enough problems, and her brothers wouldn’t take kindly to criticism.

Taking a deep breath and focusing on the reason she was there, to see her family and discuss the clues Matthew Colton had provided them, Annabel rang the doorbell.

Sam answered, beer in hand, and he greeted her with a hug. At least when they were at family gatherings, he didn’t act like her superior. He was a detective, and she, six years older, was a rookie cop. His frostiness at work was his way of keeping her away from dangerous cases, as if that would keep her safe. Random, bad things happened all the time, even to cops who were assigned missing-cat reports.

She lived with that knowledge and had since the day her mother had been murdered. Annabel’s soul wasn’t at ease, knowing something terrible could happen to someone she loved with no warning. It was a brutal lesson she had learned from her father.

Sam escorted her inside. Lizzie had a fresh pie cooling on the counter and dinner was set in serving dishes on the table. How did she do it? Annabel didn’t own serving dishes, period, much less matching ones.

Annabel pointed to the pie. “If your pie goes missing, I can help you find it. I have some experience with that.” The words left her mouth tinged with anger. She hadn’t meant to say anything about the crappy assignments she had been given at work. It was not professional to speak about her job in her free time or to make passive-aggressive comments. That wasn’t the way to deal with Sam. She knew better.

“We all have to start somewhere,” Sam said, looking uncomfortable. He glanced at his fiancée, Zoe, and then at Annabel.

Zoe, a librarian, cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses and narrowed her eyes at Sam. It confirmed what Annabel suspected. The entire family knew she was given the worst, most boring assignments in the GGPD.

That made it sting worse and feel as if they were in cahoots against her, even though Ethan, Lizzie, Chris and Zoe had nothing to do with her work duties.

Annabel’s tactics to get better assignments were to act with professionalism and grace regardless of the circumstances. She had to rise above, as she had done all her life. Rise above her father’s terrible legacy. Rise above her foster parents’ crushingly low expectations of her. Rise above the police department’s belief she couldn’t handle the tough assignments. “Did you handle a lot of cases that involved missing cats and handing out tickets along Main Street?” she asked sweetly.

Chris came in from the porch. “Annabel, I thought I heard your voice.” He hugged his sister and then looked at her. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing of note,” she said. Before she could tell him anything about what a rotten day it had been, Lizzie broke in.

“It’s just us tonight. Ridge and Darcy couldn’t make it. Darcy’s on shift at the hospital, and Ridge is working,” Lizzie said.

Ridge, Annabel’s younger brother, worked in search and rescue, and his high school love, Darcy, was an emergency room doctor at Blackthorn County Hospital. Though they’d parted ways after high school, they’d recently reunited, and Annabel had never seen Ridge so happy.

“I thought Trevor was coming by,” Sam said.

“Something came up at work, apparently,” Lizzie said.

“Another dead body,” Chris said, more a question than a statement.

Lizzie shivered. “He didn’t say. He spoke to Ethan when he called. Ethan would be here, but he had a couple of heifers birthing tonight and he’s with them in the barn.”

Trevor and his FBI team were working with the Granite Gulch Police Department, but the FBI was keeping some details of the Alphabet Killer cases to themselves. The FBI had access to the data in the Alphabet Killer case: the complete autopsies, the ballistics reports and detailed crime scene data, analyzed at their state-of-the-art labs.

Annabel wondered how much Trevor shared with Sam. Some details of the case had been made public knowledge, some had been distributed to the members of the GGPD assigned to the case and some were a matter of speculation.

They sat at the table, and after exchanging pleasantries, the conversation turned to Matthew Colton. Since Matthew had first made a deal with Sam to reveal the location of their mother’s body, he had been the focus of discussions often.

Though speaking of him wasn’t the most pleasant topic, Matthew Colton was dying, and he’d engaged them in a game of clues, offering each of his children one word to figure out where their mother had been buried. They were permitted to visit, one Colton per month, on the last Sunday of the month, to receive their clue.

Matthew Colton was serving six consecutive life sentences, and knowing his life would end in prison, perhaps he felt doing something for his children would earn his soul some peace. Matthew did nothing selflessly.

Annabel had considered Matthew was screwing with them, baiting them into visiting him in prison and pretending he was willing to tell them where their mother was buried. Her brothers believed Matthew was genuine in this instance, perhaps attempting one final act to make some amends to his children for what he had done to their family. Nothing would grant him absolution, but at least knowing their mother’s final resting place would provide them closure. They could give Saralee a proper burial and service, which Annabel thought her mother would have liked.

Annabel anticipated Matthew Colton was ultimately trying to manipulate them. No way did visits from his children mean anything to him. If he cared about his children, he wouldn’t have killed their mother and destroyed their family.

“Texas, hill and B,” Zoe said. As a librarian, she had been conducting research on the Colton family and those words, trying to establish connections that the siblings, being too close to the case, hadn’t made on their own.

“Annabel, you’re planning to visit Matthew, aren’t you?” Sam asked.

Why was he on her case? She would go, of course. She hadn’t seen her father in over twenty years, and looking at his murderous face, the face that had haunted her dreams for years, was the last thing she wanted to do. But her siblings needed answers, and even though Annabel had her doubts about Matthew telling the truth, she wasn’t selfish enough to put her hatred of her father above her brothers. “I will go see him. I’ve been combing the letters, and he might give something away during our conversation. Hopefully, I can make a connection to what Regina wrote in her letters,” Annabel said. “I’d like to spare Chris and Trevor the punishment of seeing him.”

Chris patted her hand encouragingly, and Lizzie and Zoe smiled sympathetically. Sam just stared at her.

“Do you want one of us to go with you? I could wait in the car,” Sam said.

He was being supportive, but she couldn’t help feel he was questioning her strength. “I can do it.”

“Alone?”

“I don’t know if he’d be willing to speak to me if I brought someone else,” Annabel said. “The arrangement you made with him was pretty specific, and I’m sure he’d love for one of us to make a mistake so he can renege on the deal partway through.”

As they discussed techniques of dragging more information from their father, Annabel’s thoughts switched to Regina Willard and then to Jesse Willard.

Jesse had to have some connection to his sister, Matthew Colton’s most loyal fan. Having read the letters Regina had sent Matthew, Annabel had no doubt Regina was unhinged. But Jesse had seemed normal. Could Annabel have been wrong about that? Was Jesse just better at hiding his crazy? Annabel’s police instincts were usually reliable. She had dealt with enough nutcases and criminals to intuit when someone was off their rocker.

“Earth to Annabel,” Zoe said softly.

“What?” Annabel asked, straightening. “Sorry, I was thinking about the case.”

“I asked if you’ve been seeing anyone,” Sam said.

Annabel hated that question, because the answer everyone wanted was she was in a stable relationship. She dated, but it never turned into anything serious. “I’ve been busy with work and the letters from Matthew,” Annabel said. Sam, Ethan and Ridge had found love, and she hoped Chris was next, but a great romance wasn’t in the cards for her. She didn’t have time. Past relationships ended because she couldn’t make a connection with someone. Boyfriends were wary of her, suspecting something dark and twisted slept inside her, because she was the daughter of Granite Gulch’s most infamous serial killer.

Chris had found love once, but it had ended tragically. He had lost his wife, and he hadn’t been able to move on yet. The house he had built for Laura remained empty. He couldn’t move into it and, instead, lived in an apartment over Double G Cakes and Pies. They made the best desserts in town, and Chris was lucky he wasn’t a hundred pounds overweight. His PI job kept him hopping. Every time Annabel visited her brother, she couldn’t resist stopping into the Double G for a dessert and to visit with her good friend Mia.

Even so, thinking about the woman Chris had lost made Annabel sad. Chris could have been happy with a family of his own, but instead he worked too much and kept any prospects at bay.

“You need some balance in your life,” Sam said.

Annabel felt her defensiveness rise. No one criticized Chris or Trevor about their lack of love lives. “Just because you fell in love doesn’t mean everyone else will.”

Sam smiled at Zoe, and if Annabel didn’t love them both so much, she would have gagged at the sugary sweetness in that shared look.

“We just want you to be happy,” Lizzie said. “And lately, it seems like you go to work and then go home and read those letters.” She shuddered. “You deserve more. You deserve happiness.”

She was happy. She was finally a police officer, a dream she had chased without her family’s approval. Achieving that goal meant a lot to her. Proving herself meant she could ask for better assignments. “Until we get this resolved with Matthew, I’m satisfied with my life and plenty busy.”

The conversation moved on, and Annabel was glad the focus had shifted away from her.

After dinner, Annabel joined Chris on the back porch. She sat next to him on the patio sofa, and they propped their feet on the wooden coffee table.

“You know he goes after you because he worries,” Chris said. “We all do.”

He was referring to Sam. Annabel understood. Her younger brother might be one of Granite Gulch’s best detectives, but he had a lot to learn about his place in the family. He didn’t get to call the shots in her life. “I worry about you all, too. Your PI work puts you in tough spots. Ridge is running around in dangerous terrain, and Sam is working the streets, searching for criminals, and Trevor...well, who knows what he’s up to, but I guarantee it involves dangerous people.”

“I know. I worry about everyone, too. With you, it’s different. We lost Josie,” Chris said.

His words hit her in the gut. Annabel wanted more than anything to find her sister, work out whatever problems were keeping them apart and for Josie to be part of their lives. “I know.” It was painful for them to have Josie far out of reach.

“And Mom,” Chris said. “And Laura. It’s the Colton curse. Bad things happen to Colton women.”

Annabel had thought about that before. “I think about Mom and Josie, too.”

“I know you do,” Chris said. “I want you all to find the happiness I had with Laura, even though I feel cheated out of time with her. When I see Sam, Ethan and Ridge, I envy their happiness, and I worry about Zoe, Lizzie and Darcy.”

Annabel squeezed her twin’s hand. “Nothing bad will happen. Matthew is behind bars, and he can’t hurt us anymore. We’re staying close and watching out for each other.” Though Sam, Ethan and Ridge had been through difficult struggles in recent months, they had been strong and had protected the women they loved.

Chris shrugged. “Except Matthew found a groupie who seems to believe he is brilliant and worth following in his footsteps.”

It was disturbing to Annabel, as well. “I wish the media would stop dragging out Matthew Colton stories and parading them around with parallels to Regina. That only encourages her, and whoever else may have the unbalanced idea to commit crimes to become famous.”

“Matthew seems amused by Regina’s antics.”

“Matthew having any source of happiness burns me,” Annabel said. “That’s part of the reason I don’t want to visit him. He loves jerking us around. He couldn’t get us to visit any other way, so he dangles the one thing that compels us.”

“You still think it’s a game with no ending?” Chris asked.

“Why not ask us to visit and tell us where Mom is buried without clues and cryptic messages spread across many months?” Annabel asked. “He’s dying. It has to have dawned on him that he could die before we receive our clues. Then, where are we? He can enjoy watching us twist and squirm and beg him for information. In any case, who knows if these clues even mean anything? One word is hardly enough. If it were that easy to find Mom, we would have found her. Or the authorities would have found her twenty years ago.”

“No way to know unless we follow through on our visits,” Chris said.

“After I go, it’s your turn.”

Chris sighed. “Don’t remind me. I’m not looking forward to talking to that man any more than you are, but I’ll do it. I want Mom to have a real burial.”

“We’ll get through this,” Annabel said, resting her head on her brother’s shoulder. “Coltons can withstand anything, especially when we stand together.”

* * *

“Even for a small town, you and I seem to land the most boring assignments in America,” Luis said, sliding his gun into its holster at his hip and closing his locker.

Annabel agreed with him, but she had been trying not to focus on it. Talking about it fed into her anger and frustration.

“It wasn’t like this before I was your partner. I actually apprehended criminals in the process of committing crimes. I responded to home invasions.”

Guilt hit her, and she tried not to turn that guilt into more anger at Sam. He had something to do with her crappy assignments, and it scorched her. Shouldn’t he want to help her in her career, not hold her back?

“Then again, my wife is happier with you as my partner. She doesn’t need to worry as much. I’m not in danger tracking a culprit who trampled a flower garden. Especially when that culprit turns out to be two-year-old twins who were chasing their ball into a grouchy neighbor’s yard.”

Annabel pictured Zoe looking at Sam, and her anger flamed hotter. Her and Luis’s dull assignments were intentional and unfair. Other rookies weren’t assigned only boring tasks. Sure, she should pay her dues, and she understood it was more than her rookie status keeping her away from the most interesting and dangerous case in the GGPD, the Alphabet Killer murders. She was tangentially related to the case because of her connection, no matter how severed, to Matthew Colton, and Chief Murray wouldn’t involve her directly because he was worried about a slick-talking defense lawyer twisting the facts of the case and pointing to prejudicial handling and analysis of evidence by a Colton.

But another day of missing pies and cats, and Annabel would lose it.

“Give me a minute. I need to talk to the chief before we head out,” Annabel said.

“I’ll grab some coffees,” Luis said.

Annabel strode to Chief Murray’s office. She reached for the door handle and took a deep breath. Getting this off her chest would save her sanity. Even if Chief Murray told her to suck it up and deal with it, at least he’d be aware she knew she was being treated unfairly. It wasn’t just about her. Luis was bored to tears, too.

Annabel almost lost her nerve when she saw Sam speaking with him. Sam was seated across from Chief Murray’s desk, slightly reclined in the chair, looking relaxed and buddy-buddy with the chief. Maybe it was better Sam was in the room. Both needed to hear what she had to say, and this would save her from repeating herself. Sam might be dismissive with her, but Chief Murray was a fair man and would hear her out.

She knocked once on the door and then opened it, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. She’d had enough conflicts in her life to know rushing in with guns blazing, firing accusations around the room, wasn’t the best technique with men who liked to be right.

The chief prided himself on making levelheaded and fair decisions. Sam believed he was above reproach.

“’Morning, Annabel. What can I do for you?” Chief Murray asked.

Annabel glanced at Sam. He didn’t seem annoyed, only curious. To this point, Annabel had kept her head down and worked. She didn’t complain to her bosses, and she didn’t bad-mouth her work assignments to anyone on the force. Her dear friend Mia had heard an earful about her terrible assignments, but that was what great friends were for.

“Yesterday, I handed out five parking tickets, looked for a missing cat, which turned out to be sleeping in the owner’s upstairs windowsill, and took a report for a missing blueberry pie. My prime suspects in that case are the baker’s children, whose faces were smeared with cinnamon and blue jam, but who swore they had nothing to do with the pie’s disappearance.” She took a deep breath. “I graduated at the top of my class from the police academy. I’m not above the simple assignments, but why am I assigned all the dull assignments in the department?”

Chief Murray looked at her and said nothing for a long moment. “Anything else?”

“My partner is an experienced police officer. He has a lot to teach me and can offer much more to the town, but not when he’s shackled to me, the magnet for boring.”

She had made her point, and she waited for Chief Murray to respond.

Sam looked part worried and part admiring.

Chief Murray leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his stomach. “You’ve excelled at the tasks you’ve been assigned.”

How hard was writing parking tickets and taking reports? “Yes, sir.”

“I’ve noted the contributions you’ve made to other cases. The Alphabet Killer case in particular.”

She was surprised he had remembered she had worked with the letters on that case. “Yes, sir.”

He leaned forward. “Luis is on vacation the next two days, and I had planned for you to work the information phone—”

Annabel could have fallen asleep at the idea of sitting at the information desk for two full shifts. When Luis had mentioned he was taking a couple of days off to celebrate his wedding anniversary with his wife, Annabel had hoped she would be given a temporary partner. The information phone was the worst fate in work tasks.

“But I have an assignment for you, something you might find more enjoyable.”

Her interest piqued.

“A stakeout at Willard’s Farm, the farm owned and operated by Jesse Willard, Regina Willard’s half brother.”

At the mention of Jesse’s name, heat spiraled through her. An exciting assignment for sure, putting her closer to the Alphabet Killer case.

“We don’t have evidence connecting Jesse to the crimes, but he could be aiding his sister in some way, providing her shelter or lying for her. We’ve spoken to him several times, and he’s been questioned by the FBI. Since we don’t have anything on him, we can’t lean on him. Watch his place for signs of Regina, or anything that connects him to the Alphabet Killer murders. You have an eye for detail, you’re hungry and you might notice something others have missed.”

Annabel was thrilled with both the assignment and the chief’s recognition of her abilities.

“Chief—” Sam protested, but the chief held up his hand, silencing him.

The chief didn’t like to be argued with, and given that much of his control had been taken by the FBI leading the investigation, he wanted absolute control over other decisions in his precinct.

“Familiarize yourself with Regina Willard’s file. She is likely in disguise. Take the department’s high-powered camera and snap pictures of anything that looks suspicious. Even if it turns out to be nothing, it’s worth the chance. Stay in your undercover vehicle and call for backup if you see anyone who looks like Regina.”

“Yes, sir,” Annabel said, thrilled to have a real assignment for the first time since joining the GGPD.

“If you see Regina, do not approach her,” Chief Murray said. “The FBI is developing a profile of Regina, but they don’t know what sets her off. Your age and hair color make you a match for her victims.”

“My name doesn’t start with G,” Annabel said.

“I doubt taking one more life, even if it’s not in keeping with her alphabetical system, would give her pause.”

“Thank you, Chief Murray. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. Don’t let me down.”

Annabel practically skipped from the chief’s office and resisted the immature urge to stick out her tongue at her brother. Her hard work had finally paid off.

She hadn’t made it to Luis to share the great news when Sam caught up with her. “Annabel, do you want me to come with you on the stakeout?”

Annabel shook her head. “I’ve got this.”

“Promise me you won’t try to prove something out there. You heard the chief. First sign of trouble and you call for help,” Sam said.

“I understood what he said. I’ll be careful. You don’t have anything to worry about,” Annabel said. She kissed her brother’s cheek, reminding herself it was good he was protective of her, and rushed off to meet Luis. She could face their inevitably tedious day knowing something new was waiting for her tomorrow.

If she did a good job with the stakeout, she was on her way to shedding her rookie status and having a real career as a police officer in Granite Gulch.

* * *

Jesse had a list of worries a mile long. Low on supplies, too much to do, the irrigation system was broken in one of his cotton fields and he could not stop thinking about two brunettes in his life making him crazy: Regina, whom he could not find. No one knew where she was or even her last address. She had lost touch with mutual friends and their few remaining family members. And the other brunette was distracting in an entirely different way. The police officer from the station had been on his mind.

He had felt sure he would lose it on the Colton brothers who were bent on pinning the recent rash of killings on Regina. They wouldn’t listen to reason, and they didn’t believe him when he said he didn’t know where Regina was.

Driving his pickup into Granite Gulch, Jesse stopped at the Green and Grow. It was his favorite shop in town, catering to both commercial and residential clients. They had greenhouses filled with plants, piles of compost, manure and soil for the home gardener and an impressive array of supplies for fixing farm problems. When he needed a bigger shipment, he ordered from a supplier in Fort Worth, but the Green and Grow had pulled him out of a tight spot many times.

Jesse ignored the suspicious and curious looks he received from the residents in town. People were talking trash about him and Regina. He didn’t know how to combat the rumors except by going about his business, working hard and hoping the interest in his sister fizzled after the real murderer was found. Growing up, he had become accustomed to ignoring the rude stares and hurtful words of others. His father had been a real piece of work, and Jesse had gone to school hungry, dirty and tired on more than one occasion. Those experiences had calloused him to gossips.

He entered the garden store, lifting his hand in greeting to Bernie, the sales clerk. She didn’t gossip, and he appreciated it. Her life and interests were in gardening. She could talk for hours about her plants and the growing habits of certain vegetation, but she was mum when it came to talking about other people. She might be the only one in Granite Gulch who didn’t.

After he placed his order, he paid and walked around to the back of the store to load his truck. He usually had one of his farmhands with him, but with Grace on an alternative assignment, and since he hadn’t found anyone to replace the no-show who’d disappeared, he couldn’t spare anyone else. They were coming into the busy season. His crops needed to be watered and fertilized on schedule, the soil tested, animals fed and cared for, and the fences mended. He’d run a produce stand on the side of the road the past several years, and it had generated some income. Usually, he had one of his farmhands at the stand to talk about the produce and collect money, but to save on staffing expenses, he would set out a tin can and hope the people of Granite Gulch were honest enough to pay him.

After he loaded his vehicle, he considered stopping at the diner for lunch but figured he couldn’t spare the time. Turning onto Main Street, he’d hit the highway in a few miles and beat feet back to his farm.

He slowed when he recognized the policewoman from the other day walking along Main Street with another officer.

The impulse to stop and talk to her was strong. Parking along Main Street was busy this time of day, but he could find a spot. What would he say to her? Would he look desperate and aggressive? Their exchange had been more unspoken than verbal, but perhaps she had felt nothing. Did she know he was Regina Willard’s brother? Given the smallness of the Granite Gulch Police Department and the high-profile nature of the Alphabet Killer murders, Jesse guessed everyone on the police force was involved, if only marginally. The FBI had been brought in to investigate, but since the Alphabet Killer had not been apprehended, they needed to catch a break.

The female officer smiled at something her older, male partner said, and she looked even more beautiful. She had her hair tied in a ponytail, and it swung as she strutted down the sidewalk. She and her partner walked into the diner.

Jesse changed his mind about having enough time. He would make time. A second chance to talk to the pretty officer was slim, considering he rarely drove to town, and he doubted she would visit the farm.

Jesse parked and started toward the diner. He was hungry, and it had been a while since he’d eaten. The diner made the best tuna melt and apple pie. His stomach growled just thinking about it.

“Willard!”

At the sound of his name, he turned. Tug Johnson, who had worked for him on and off over the years, was jogging toward him. The last he’d heard, Tug had left town. What had brought him back to Granite Gulch?

“Hey, how are you?” Jesse asked. He stayed on friendly terms with his employees and former employees. With the exception of a few bad seeds, he had been successful. The farming community in Texas was close-knit, and it didn’t help him to make enemies.

“Doing okay. I was out in California for a while, but the work dried up. I even had a temp job in an office. Came back this way for the growing season.”

“Looking for honest work?” Jesse asked. He didn’t lie to his employees about the amount of work or how labor intensive it was. Working for him meant a decent wage, but in return, he expected a fair day’s toil.

“Mind if I come by the farm later? I have a girl now. She’s counting on me,” Tug said.

“Sounds good,” Jesse said, relieved he might have found someone to replace the farmhand who’d quit without notice.

Tug shifted on his feet and adjusted his blue ball cap. “I heard about that mess with your sister. What are you going to do?”

Jesse hated confronting rumors, and he didn’t know what Tug wanted him to say, except maybe divulge some tidbit of information about Regina that would garner Tug some attention at happy hour as he shared the latest gossip. But an overreaction on his part would be telling, and Jesse didn’t want to encourage the rumors by feeding them a temper tantrum. “The police are looking for Regina. They have questions for her. If I see her, I’ll send her their way.” Sticking to the facts would keep him out of trouble.

Tug touched the brim of his hat. “You’re not worried she’ll come looking for you?”

“Unlikely. I haven’t spoken to her in years, and she’s been good about ignoring me when she doesn’t want to talk.” Regina had been that way since they were children. She sulked, she brooded and when she was ready to discuss her problems, she’d find Jesse.

“I hear she has an ax to grind with everyone. An ax or whatever weapon she can find,” Tug said.

Jesse hid his annoyance. The implication Regina was the Alphabet Killer was off base. “Regina can be difficult, but she’s not dangerous.”

Tug pulled on the waistband of his pants, hitching them higher. “I don’t know about that. Careful about turning a blind eye to a problem. You live way out there alone. Can’t know what could happen in the middle of the night.”

Jesse enjoyed the solitude and privacy of his farm, located just inside the borders of Granite Gulch but far enough away from the busiest part of town. Jesse could have hired staff to live on the premises, but his farm wasn’t big enough to require it, and he enjoyed having the farm to himself sometimes. He had a carriage house he had been renovating, but that pet project wasn’t leading anywhere fast, given his time and money restrictions. “I’ll be okay, but I appreciate your concern.”

He tipped his hat to Tug. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see about wrangling some lunch.”

Tug said goodbye, and Jesse continued on to the diner. He guessed Tug wouldn’t show up at the farm later. That conversation felt like Tug digging for information about Regina. If Jesse didn’t find help soon, he’d start actively looking for someone, which took even more time.

Entering the diner and removing his hat, Jesse scanned for the police officer. She should be easy to spot; both her uniform and her beauty would stand out head and shoulders above others. The diner was crowded. Waitresses and waiters in their navy pants and crisp white shirts, their green aprons tied around their waists, moved through the diner with trays of food and drinks. Jesse stopped and slid to the side to allow two older women with walkers move toward the register.

Maybe this was crazy and he should grab his lunch to go. He was nervous, which didn’t happen often. But he had come this far, and it was just a conversation. If she did not want to talk to him, he could take a hint and back away.

He looked around and didn’t see her. Just as he was about to give up searching, he spotted her brunette ponytail at the end of the counter.

She was next to the other officer, drinking a soda and eating a club sandwich. Despite the busy lunch hour, Jesse was pleased the stool next to hers was open. Maybe his luck was finally changing. Moving through the crowd, he pretended not to hear his and Regina’s names whispered. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and he wouldn’t slink around town with shame hanging on his shoulders.

“Mind if I sit here?” he asked as he tapped the seat next to her.

She turned toward him, smiling. The sense of connection and rightness arced between them.

Though her smile faded and her eyes turned wary, she gestured to the seat. If she hadn’t known who he was on their first meeting, she knew now. “Please, help yourself. Seat’s open.” Her voice was warm and inviting.

He sat. He wanted to see her name tag, but from the position she was sitting, he couldn’t read it. His interest in her was unusual for him. Though he’d had some girlfriends, he hadn’t worked at a relationship, hadn’t pursued women who didn’t come to him easily. He hadn’t mastered the art of flirting. Relationships fell into place, at least for a while. He didn’t think his relationship with the police officer would be anything like that. If he wanted her attention, he’d need to work for it. That intrigued him.

The Alphabet Killer investigation wasn’t one he was interested in discussing. Did they have anything else in common? Why was he tongue-tied when he was near this woman? Even at the police precinct when he had run into her, he felt like an oaf who couldn’t construct a coherent sentence. “Are you new to Granite Gulch?” Jesse asked. He’d purchased his farm ten years ago. Though he hadn’t become friendly with many people outside his farmhands and business associates, he’d have remembered seeing someone like her around. She was a head turner and hard to forget.

She inclined her head, and her ponytail swung to the side. “Not new to Granite Gulch. New to the police force,” she said. Hitting the word police hard made her point, if her uniform hadn’t already.

“I work on a farm nearby. I make it to town now and then,” he said.

If she showed a spark of interest, now and then could become often and eagerly.

She didn’t say anything and looked instead at her sandwich. Jesse couldn’t let the conversation go that easily. He wanted to feel the way he did at the police precinct when they had been chest to chest, thigh to thigh. That moment had been like a drug in his veins, and he craved the high again.

Despite the crowd, he felt the snap of their connection as if they were the only two people in the diner. How could she not feel the attraction, too? He glanced down at his clothes. Dirty and dusty, indicating he worked with his hands. Maybe that was a turnoff to her. Not a lot of women fantasized about dating a farmer. Or if they did harbor any fantasies, they died quickly when they realized it was tough work and long hours. Jesse wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Working the land brought him a great sense of pride. “What did you do before becoming a police officer?”

“I was a park ranger,” she said.

She wasn’t disgusted by being outdoors, and he liked that. For him, the sun and the wind were essential. City living, with its tall buildings blocking the sun and creating a wind tunnel out of a gentle breeze, suffocated him.

Her partner shot him an appraising look. Did that look have anything to do with Regina or just that he was another man talking to a beautiful woman?

The radio clipped to her shoulder beeped. She answered it immediately and brought it close to her ear. The message crackled, and then both the woman and her partner stood. “Officers responding.”

“See you around,” she said as she and her partner tossed money on the counter and hurried from the diner.

It wasn’t the conversation he’d hoped for with the striking brunette, but it was a start.

* * *

Annabel didn’t know if dispatch had been given the go-ahead for her and Luis to receive actual police assignments, but they were en route to break up a street fight. Most street clashes in Granite Gulch were Friday-night bar brawls. A daytime fight? Annabel didn’t know what she and Luis would find, but she was ready. Her adrenaline was pumping hard and not just from the report of a fight.

Jesse Willard had turned her head around. She should want nothing to do with him, and she should have been borderline cold to him. Once he had started talking to her, it was impossible to ignore him.

She and Luis ran the two blocks along Main Street and turned into an alley next to the Bar and Saloon. Four men total, three wailing on the other. The victim was slumped on the ground. The alley dumpster was overflowing with the stink of skunked beer and rotting chicken. Annabel’s stomach soured, but she focused.

“Police! Show me your hands!” Annabel said, drawing her gun.

“Your hands! Now!” Luis echoed.

At their command, two of the men took off in the opposite direction. The third assailant put his hands on his head. The victim was not moving, and Annabel called on her radio. “I need an ambulance on Main Street, next to the Bar and Saloon.”

“Go, Annabel. I have these two,” Luis said.

Heeding her partner’s experience, she chased after the men who had fled the scene. When she reached the end of the alley, she looked left and right. They were gone. A car engine revved, and a light blue pickup truck pulled out of the alley a block away. The truck had a large rusted spot along the passenger side. It turned away from her, skidding on the dusty road. She was too far away to read the license plate, but she could provide a basic description of the pickup and a rough sketch of the suspects.

She clicked her radio. “I have a blue pickup fleeing the scene of a crime. Older model. Two suspects. Consider them dangerous and proceed with caution.” She jogged back to assist Luis.

Luis had one man cuffed and seated against the exterior wall of the saloon. Luis was leaning over the victim, checking his neck for a pulse. As their backup and the sound of an ambulance siren approached, a crowd began to form.

“Sir, stay with us. Help is on the way,” Annabel said. She spoke to the man, watching the rise and fall of his chest and hoping he survived. He had cuts on his face and from what she had witnessed, likely other injuries to the rest of his body.

Annabel felt someone watching her. She lifted her head and saw Jesse Willard. He stepped toward her with a first-aid kit in his hand.

He knelt on the ground and opened the kit. He took a fresh gauze pad and pressed it over a cut on the man’s face.

Jesse seemed to know what he was doing.

“How can I help?” she asked.

Jesse glanced at her. “Not sure there’s anything we can do until the ambulance gets here. I have some medical training, but he needs a doctor.”

The ambulance arrived, and the crowd parted to allow the paramedics through. Annabel’s priorities became securing the victim into the care of the EMTs and paramedics. They would take him to Blackthorn County Hospital. Detectives would be sent to the hospital to question him when he was able to talk.

Luis led the remaining attacker to their squad car. He’d be questioned for information on his associates. Something about the wildness of his eyes and the way he walked made Annabel think this was drug related. A drug deal gone bad or a territory dispute? Granite Gulch was a small town and not without its problems.

Annabel turned to thank Jesse, but he was gone.

Chapter 3

Annabel had pulled out her books from the police academy and had reviewed her notes on conducting a stakeout the night before. Though the chance of spotting Regina Willard walking around Willard’s Farm was low, she wanted to be prepared. This was her first assignment without Luis outside routine police work, and Chief Murray was watching her closely. She wouldn’t make a foolish mistake and have the chief believing he had made an error in giving her this task. She had stuck her neck out, claimed she was ready for more and she would rise to the challenge.

Feeling guilty for watching Willard’s Farm when Jesse had been helpful at the scene of the beating outside the Bar and Saloon, Annabel reminded herself a stakeout wasn’t personal. This was about stopping a killer and following every lead, regardless of how remote the chances of finding Regina were. Annabel didn’t owe Jesse anything, and even though he had seemed nice, plenty of things in Annabel’s life had seemed good until they weren’t. She had happily lived in the big farmhouse with her parents and siblings, her home with Mama Jean had been wonderful, but those things had been snatched away. Jesse might seem nice, but he could be a sociopath. Being attracted to him was utterly confusing, and she did not make good decisions in her personal life. This stakeout wasn’t personal, no matter her feelings for Jesse Willard. Having a crush on someone involved with a case didn’t supersede her responsibilities to remain professional and objective.

Annabel drove to Willard’s Farm and parked across from the main farmhouse on a public road. With acres of land, crops, the barns and outbuildings, it was difficult to find a good angle to see everything.

Staying on the main road, Annabel would note who came and went from the farm. She would check license plates and look for anyone off schedule. If Regina was hiding at her brother’s farm, she had to show herself at some point. She’d need to go out, if for no other reason than to search for victims or to mail more sicko letters to Matthew Colton.

Annabel had checked the aerial view of the farm on a map and didn’t see other access roads, but the data she’d been using was at least three months old. She would circle the property later and see if Jesse had another way onto his property Regina could use to move about discreetly.

Annabel made herself comfortable and tried not to think about someone creeping up behind her. Her undercover police vehicle had extra mirrors to give her a 360-degree view around the car, but she couldn’t look everywhere at once. Chief Murray had sent her out alone. He must believe the chances of someone approaching her were slim. She agreed with that assessment, but being farther from town in a location she wasn’t familiar with made her uneasy.

She settled into her seat and focused. It was ten minutes before two in the afternoon. According to the police department’s file on Jesse Willard, his farmhands changed shifts at two. As cars drove up the road and turned into the driveway, Annabel scrawled notes. A few minutes later, other cars left the ranch.

Regina could be hiding in one of the cars, and Annabel was tempted to stop the vehicles and search them, but Chief Murray had been clear. She was only to watch. If she had suspicions about more going on and that someone, Jesse or a farmhand, was hiding Regina, she would report it and return with a proper search warrant. Or rather, another officer would. Since Annabel’s last name was Colton, any evidence she found would be subject to question by a decent defense attorney. A lawyer could claim she was emotionally invested in the case and lacking impartiality. Though Annabel knew the difference and wouldn’t make a legal mistake that could cause Regina to go free, it was better to do as Chief Murray asked.

They would find Regina and not make mistakes along the way. The case would be strong, and Regina would spend the rest of her life in prison. At least she would as soon as they located her.

Willard’s Farm was well maintained. Annabel recalled the farm ten years ago when it had been a nonproductive, run-down eyesore. The former owner had lived on the farm his whole life, and after he passed, he had no family to leave it to and the land was sold.

Jesse obviously took pride in his farm and his home. The farmhouse looked as if it had a new roof and a fresh coat of paint on the exterior, the shutters shining in the afternoon sun. The porch had a few chairs, and the gardens around the house were tidy and blooming with pink and purple flowers.

Behind the house, extending as far as she could see, the rows of crops were lush and green. The barn was painted red, and farmhands were moving around the property with purpose.

Could Jesse Willard be hiding his sister? Family was important. The Coltons had been separated when they were children. Annabel hadn’t stopped longing for and looking for her brothers. They had been sent to different foster homes across Blackthorn County, and it had been difficult to keep in touch.

Annabel had reconnected with Chris in high school. Despite the initial distance and awkwardness between them, she and Chris had gotten along well. He had even assisted her with a bully in high school who had been pestering her and whose harassment had turned physical.

She and Chris had located the rest of their family after high school. Only Josie was still missing.

Josie had wanted nothing to do with them. Annabel had thought she would outgrow it. The family had been through a lot, and as children and then teenagers, they’d each had their personal struggles in coping with their father’s crimes and the death of their mother and dissolution of their family. Their experiences in foster care had run the gamut, and life had been hard for each of them in different ways. Only Josie hadn’t come around.

If Josie came knocking on her door needing help, Annabel would assist her without questions. Is that how Jesse felt about his sister?

Annabel’s attention caught on a woman walking across the property. She had her hair pulled up into her hat, but she was the right build for Regina. Annabel used her binoculars to get a better look at the woman’s face. The woman stopped in front of the house, and Jesse Willard came down the steps. They didn’t touch, but a warm familiarity existed between them. Was she his girlfriend? If she was, why did that make Annabel both jealous and disappointed? She and Jesse weren’t dating. Annabel brushed aside the ridiculous notion and ignored the flip-flop of her belly thinking about Jesse taking her out.

Then the woman removed her hat, and locks of brown, curly hair fell down to her shoulders. When she angled her face, Annabel could see this was not Regina Willard. The woman was too young. Regina could be in disguise, but no disguise was that good.

Annabel’s heart caught in her throat when Jesse looked in her direction. He did a double take, and his shoulders fell. Would he talk to her? Ignore her? Should she approach him? Though she had been clear on her assignment, seeing him made that clarity disappear. All she wanted was to talk to Jesse Willard.

* * *

“I have a call into the vet about Misty,” Grace said. “Her hair has lost its luster, and she’s been acting strange.”

Jesse had noticed his mare’s change in behavior, too. She was lethargic and tired too often. He’d tried changing her diet, but it hadn’t helped. “Thanks. Let me know what the doc has to say.” When he knew what was wrong and could fix it, he would stop worrying.

Jesse had given Grace alternative assignments, but she still looked tired. She hadn’t complained, but he had another idea. “I’m planning to hire someone to help me around the house. It’s getting to be too much. I’ve been working on the remodel of the carriage house, and it’s taking a lot of my time. You want to try switching up your duties?” Working in the house would keep her out of the hot sun and away from backbreaking work. If she put up her feet on the couch from time to time, he was good with that.

Grace inclined her head. “Do you feel obligated to offer because I’m pregnant?” She set her hand over her stomach protectively.

Not obligated. But he was a good boss, and he valued her as an employee. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and you’ve risen to every challenge.”

“Are you saying working in the house would be a challenge?” Grace asked.

“Being closer to me and putting up with my grumpiness? I would say that, yes, that would be a challenge for anyone,” Jesse said.

Grace threw her arms around his neck. “You’re a good man, Jesse. I would be happy to help you with running your house. Thanks.”

Jesse hugged her but not too tight. “I’ll have a list of tasks for you tomorrow. Why don’t you head off and pick up Noah from school?”

Grace had arrived at work late and had stayed longer to make up the time. Not at his insistence, but that was who Grace was. Jesse didn’t want to lose her.

“I’ll do that. See you tomorrow.”

As Grace walked toward her car, Jesse looked back at the car parked near the end of his driveway on the public access road. He couldn’t see the driver with the glare of the sun against the window. He didn’t get many visitors to the farm. The last uninvited visitors had been the FBI, who had questioned him at length about his sister.

Were they back? Or was it a media outlet poking around about Regina? He’d hoped it was a lost tourist who would check their GPS and move on, but clearly that wasn’t the case. It had been a solid five minutes, and the car remained rooted in place.

Jesse didn’t want to be harassed. He didn’t want his employees hassled. Any altercation made the situation worse. He was the owner of the farm, and while diplomacy wasn’t on his mind, he forced himself to appear calm. When he was younger, he’d been a hothead, and that behavior only led to trouble. Deciding to play nice, he went inside the house, brewed a cup of coffee and carried it down the driveway.

The mug had his farm’s name on it, Willard’s Farm, and whoever was in the car could drink the coffee and keep the mug as long as they left him alone.

He glanced both ways before crossing the street. When he was closer, he had his first view of the driver. He almost spilled the coffee down his jeans. The police officer from the precinct he’d seen again at the All Night Diner was seated in the car, watching him. He had been thinking about those blue eyes for days.

What were the chances this was a social visit? He guessed next to nil.

He motioned for her to roll down her window. Keeping his relationship with the police and FBI friendly had been his intent, and now that he saw who was watching him, he was glad it wasn’t a reporter. This was an opportunity to talk to the pretty policewoman. Perhaps he could charm her into seeing his side of the situation.

“Good afternoon. I thought I would properly introduce myself. I’m Jesse Willard.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Willard. This is your farm. I’m Annabel Colton.”

Her last name was familiar, too. Same name as the detective in the GGPD and the FBI agent who had grilled him for hours about Regina and who were related to Matthew Colton, a serial killer serving a life sentence in prison. It seemed in Granite Gulch, investigations were a family affair.

He extended to her the cup of coffee. “Thought you might like this. Push through the afternoon lull.”

She reached out and accepted the mug. “Smells good.”

So did she. Even with the aroma of coffee in his nostrils, a light floral fragrance wafted from the car, her scent.

“I can’t drink much, though. No facilities,” she said, nodding at the car.

He leaned on the roof of the car, trying to look cool and figuring he missed it by a mile. She was under his skin, and he wanted to open the car door and pull her into his arms. Slender and strong, a combination he liked. He bet she held her own. “Planning on being here long?”

She nodded.

A stakeout? She was spying on him. “Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll save you a lot of time and trouble.” He already knew, but he wanted her to say it plain.

“We’re looking for your sister, Regina Willard.”

Annoyance plucked at him. “Regina is my half sister, and she isn’t here. The police and the FBI have scoured every inch of my farm. I haven’t seen her in six years. I’ve tried contacting her directly and through friends, and I can’t reach her.”

Annabel frowned. “She might turn up.”

“Unlikely. Regina and I aren’t close.”

Annabel took a sip of the coffee. “Thanks for the drink.”

She sounded as if she was ending the conversation, and he wasn’t ready to let this go. He didn’t want her outside his farm spying on him, and it bothered him immensely that she was working against him. “I already told your kin if Regina shows up, I will encourage her to speak with you all.”

“I know what you told my brothers.”

Her brothers had likely told her that he was the brother of a murderer. They were wrong on that count, and it bothered Jesse that her opinion might be shaded by theirs.

Why did the FBI and police want to pin this mess on him and Regina? He had nothing to do with Regina, and he didn’t believe she had anything to do with the murders. “I’ve been cooperative and helpful. I’ve been a good sport about this. But it’s costing me business, and if folks see you sitting outside my farm, that makes me look bad, like I’ve done something wrong.”

He saw compassion flicker across her face. Would she give up on the stakeout and report the truth to her superiors and her brothers? Regina was not on the farm.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Willard. I’m doing my job.”

“How can I make you understand? The last time I spoke to my sister, she was a bitter, angry woman. She thinks the world is out to get her, and she’s more likely to be hiding in her apartment somewhere binging on wine and television than doing the things you have implied she’s done.”

Things that made him sick to think about. Killing innocent women based on their names? Only a crazy person would see logic in that, and while Regina was sad, and he suspected clinically depressed, she wasn’t homicidal.

“Do you know where this apartment may be?”

He had been speaking generally. He didn’t know where Regina was. How many times and how many different ways could he say it? “I want to clear the air more than almost anyone in Granite Gulch. Regina’s had a hard life, and she doesn’t need this extra stress.”

“Hard life how?”

Guilt and protectiveness rose up inside him, creating a volatile cocktail that felt like anger. “Our father was not a nice man.”

“Lots of people have parents who are terrible. It doesn’t excuse committing a crime.”

She spoke as if it was a done deal, and she was sure Regina was guilty. Regina didn’t cope with things well. She hid and buried her head in the sand. If she had heard the police wanted to speak with her, that would only make her withdraw further inward.

He wouldn’t betray Regina by revealing family secrets, by telling Annabel the types of abuse his mother had rescued them from. Jesse carried a lot of guilt that his mother had left Regina behind. She had said she didn’t have a choice, but at the time, Jesse had wanted his big sister to flee with them more than anything.

“Regina found happiness with someone as an adult, and he left her. She didn’t handle it well.” When Regina had been in a relationship, one that had seemed stable, it was the first time Jesse recalled seeing Regina smile and laugh. He had been worried when the engagement ended. Regina had her wedding gown and had seemed happy to be getting married. She would have had a chance to have a family and do the things she had been denied. A loving, attentive mother and a gentle, yet firm father who ate dinner together and took family vacations to the lake. Granted, Regina hadn’t said she wanted those things, but Jesse had imagined her new life being happy.

“What do you mean she didn’t handle it well?” Annabel asked.

He didn’t intend to give Annabel reasons to believe Regina was unstable. “She grieved for the loss of her fiancé. She was obsessed with winning him back. I told her no man was worth the nonsense she was carrying on about, and she should let go. Anything was better than being emotionally attached to someone who didn’t want her in his life. I suggested online dating, therapy, joining a soccer team. But Regina wasn’t ready to move on.” She had been consumed by her anger, and she didn’t want his advice. Not that he was an expert in love. “My dating history isn’t pristine. I was the wrong person to advise her.”

“You have a history of having problems with women you’ve dated?”

She was misinterpreting what he was saying. Her question didn’t sound related to Regina. It sounded personal. He could be misreading her, but he felt something simmering unsaid between them. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I’m not married. Obviously, I don’t have the key to making a relationship work either.”

Annabel frowned, and her eyes narrowed slightly. She looked beautiful when she was thinking. She had a lot going on between the ears.

“Do you remember anything about your sister that would make you think she could harm someone? Maybe her bitterness turned violent? Maybe her emotions boiled over, and she acted out?”

She was weaving a twisted tale, leaping from one conclusion to another, making it sound as if Regina was crazy and violent and capable of murder. He didn’t take kindly to someone talking garbage about his kin, and something in him snapped. “Are you asking me to help you pin those murders on Regina? I won’t do that. I have answered these questions again and again for your brothers. I am done being questioned like a criminal. I have done nothing wrong, and I don’t appreciate the implication that I would break the law and hide someone or that I’m withholding critical information. I know there’s some psycho out there killing women. Do you think I’m indifferent to that?” His mother had been a victim of violence, and violence against women was something he would not stand for. He worried about Grace, with her long brown hair, being a target.

Annabel seemed uncertain what to say. “I’m sure you’re not indifferent to it. But we’re putting all our resources into finding the Alphabet Killer, and we have strong reasons to believe Regina knows something about the murders.”

Jesse tried to put a lid on his anger. “Can you take it or do you just dish it out? You ask me questions about my sister, like I’m supposed to have any rational reasons for why someone would run around Blackthorn County killing women. You’re the cop. Tell me about your father. Does what you know about him follow with Matthew Colton, serial killer? From what I understand, he’s the mastermind behind the Alphabet Killer murders.”

She inhaled sharply. “Matthew Colton has been in contact with Regina Willard. She’s obsessed with him, but he is not directing her to kill anyone.”

If she believed that, she had blinders on when it came to Matthew Colton. Jesse had read about the case online. The media was having a great time connecting the two cases, drawing on similarities between the murders. “Matthew Colton is making you dance like puppets. Why don’t you turn your screws on him? Make him tell you who is doing this.”

Annabel’s expression was icy. “I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but you don’t know the details of this case.”

He had crossed a line bringing up Matthew Colton, but the Coltons felt free to dig around in his life and in his business. Maybe they should get a taste of how it felt. “I get my information from the same screwed-up place everyone in this town goes for news. Rumors and gossip on Main Street.”

“This isn’t about my father. I am here to do my job.” Her voice was low, but the ire in her eyes burned hot. She handed him the coffee mug. “I have the right to be on public property, and I would caution you to remember I am an officer of the law and I will arrest you if you try to impede me.”

Jesse had rattled her, and while it wasn’t his intention, he was irate, too. He could feel the hurt and fury shaking him. Regina wasn’t a murderer. The Colton family turning their attention to her was akin to turning a blind eye to the real killer.

“Maybe the Coltons should spend time thinking about how close to home these murders are and how that might mean you’re missing critical evidence. Blaming me and Regina is deflecting the real issue. A killer is stalking women in Granite Gulch, and you have no way to stop it.”

* * *

Annabel had never been so furious with a person of interest in a case before. Her stomach was tight, and her skin felt hot. Jesse seemed comfortable turning the tables on her and shoving her family history in her face.

Her father was tied to this case, and Annabel was careful about that. She couldn’t link the cases in her mind and see her father’s behavior as Regina’s. Her part in this case was minor, and letting Jesse drag her into a conversation about her father was nonproductive.

No one had ever spoken openly about her father. Her foster families, her classmates and her friends had talked about her father and what he had done behind her back. The few people she’d had a conversation with about Matthew and his crimes were gentle and sensitive, not asking too many questions or hurling accusations.

Was Jesse right? Did she have a blind spot when it came to the Alphabet Killer crimes? Every investigator was subject to their biases and their experiences. Her father’s killings had shaped her life, in some ways for the better and in many ways, for the worse. But the police were following the facts and the evidence. It didn’t matter what Annabel thought. The facts of what had happened and how they could stop the killer before she struck again were all that mattered.

Matthew Colton knew who the Alphabet Killer was, and he had pointed at Regina Willard. What the police and FBI had found in her boarding room in Rosewood had been damning. She had written the alphabet in a permanent red marker, a bull’s-eye drawn beside each letter. News clippings of the killings and the victims had been posted on the wall. Were they missing parts of the story? It was a long shot, but could Regina be investigating the murders? Could she have stumbled on to facts about the case and, realizing she was a person of interest, started building her defense? She was tied to the case and the victims too closely to not be involved.

Annabel couldn’t present Jesse with evidence in an ongoing investigation, but surely he saw the police were not making unfounded accusations. They had followed a process and the evidence.

A few months ago, before Regina Willard’s name had come up in connection to the murders, Annabel had worried her sister, Josie, may have been the Alphabet Killer. Years before, Trevor had tried to gain custody of Josie, but Josie had refused to see her siblings or leave her foster home. When she was seventeen, Josie had disappeared. Her young fiancé had dumped her and had been seen kissing a woman with long dark hair. Long dark hair, like the victims of the Alphabet Killer.

With evidence mounting against Regina, Annabel had been thrilled to have a new lead and a new suspect. More than anything, Annabel wanted to reunite with her sister, and she didn’t want it to be while she was slapping cuffs on her sister’s wrists. Now it seemed Josie was in the clear, and yet she was still in the wind.

Had the FBI and police investigators made the leap to Regina as the Alphabet Killer too quickly without considering the case from every angle? As Annabel worked the facts over, every road led to Regina Willard. Jesse’s denial didn’t mean the police and FBI were wrong.

After staying at the farm until dark, Annabel sent a message to her boss and her brothers she was en route to Granite Gulch. Then she sent a message to Mia, asking to meet at her place and to bring reinforcements, that is, Mia’s latest drool-worthy dessert. Annabel hadn’t shaken the argument with Jesse from her thoughts, and she needed someone to talk to.

Her former foster sister and, in many ways, her soul sister and biggest supporter, Mia Rivera worked at the Double G Cakes and Pies. She was talented in the kitchen and loved experimenting with treats and testing the results on Annabel.

Annabel had been alone with her thoughts for too long. Mia knew how to cheer her up. She could be honest without being brutal and wasn’t afraid to call Annabel out when she was lying to herself or ignoring the truth.

When Annabel drove up to her house and saw her kitchen light on, her mood lifted. Mia had a key to Annabel’s place. Annabel imagined the sweet smell of Mia’s dessert, and she felt better knowing her dear friend would steer her in the right direction.

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