HOMETOWN PROTECTOR

After being attacked in her own store, Ellie Winters no longer considers her hometown a safe haven. Nor can she believe the lawman helping her recover is Johnny Rock, her former childhood friend—and the boy who once threw her family into turmoil. Though she’s secretly happy to see Johnny again, he’s only back to stop a drug ring. Too bad the trail leads straight to Ellie’s shop. Despite their rocky history, Johnny knows the pretty business owner can’t possibly be guilty. Now, with Johnny as the only thing standing between Ellie and a killer, he will do anything to keep her safe…and prove he’s worthy of Ellie trusting him with her heart.

A crash sounded from the back of the store and Ellie jumped, splashing the contents of the punch bowl up and over the edge.

Her mind flashed to last night. The man slamming her body against the utility sink. His callused hand against her lips. She gasped, a cold fear washing over her.

Johnny moved toward her, a concerned look on his face. He held out his hand, indicating she stay put. Ellie swallowed hard as she watched him disappear into the storage room, her pulse beating wildly in her ears. A few minutes later, he returned with a piece of paper.

Her stomach dropped.

“This was stuffed in the hole of a brick.” He tipped his head toward the back door. “There’s a nice dent in the middle of the exterior door where he threw it.”

Ellie let out a long breath as tiny stars danced in her line of vision. “What does it say?” The words rasped out of her dry throat.

She read over his shoulder. In black angry letters, the wrinkled note read, “Stop playing games or you die.”

ALISON STONE lives with her husband of more than twenty years and their four children in western New York. Besides writing, Alison keeps busy volunteering at her children’s schools, driving her girls to dance and watching her boys race motocross. Alison loves to hear from her readers at Alison@alisonstone.com. For more information please visit her website, alisonstone.com. She’s also chatty on Twitter, @Alison_Stone. Find her on Facebook at facebook.com/AlisonStoneAuthor.

High-Risk Homecoming

Alison Stone

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

—Philippians 4:13

For my youngest daughter, Leah Grace, who loves a good storyline as much as her mother. I am proud of you and the person you’re becoming. Love you always.

To my husband, Scott, and my oldest three kids, Scotty, Alex and Kelsey. Thank you for being exactly who you are. Love you, always and forever.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

EPILOGUE

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

ONE

Ellie dropped the paint roller and it landed with a plop-clack as the roller landed in the paint and the handle hit the edge of the plastic paint tray. Stepping back, she planted her fists on her hips, and then quickly checked her hands, relieved the bright splotches of paint on her fingers were dry. She resumed her stance and tipped her head, wondering if she should have gone more with the shade Pumpkin Spice and not Citrus Blast. But in the end, all the paint samples had begun to blend together during the height of the gift shop’s remodel and, in a fit of decisiveness, she’d chosen Citrus Blast.

“Hmm, when I said our store needed a pop of color, I didn’t mean—” her friend and business partner, Ashley, winced and shook her head “—oh...I should have gone with you to the hardware store.”

Ellie spun around, biting back her annoyance. Ashley was supposed to have gone with her and yet again, she had had a conflict. Ellie took in her friend’s cute fall sweater and jeans, and realized Ashley hadn’t stopped by to help. She’d probably fib and claim she had a scheduling conflict when in reality, she had a date.

Ashley couldn’t hold back a smile. “I have a date, okay?” Ah, she actually admitted it. “I can’t help it if you’re all work and no play.”

Ellie held up her palms to the unpacked boxes and unassembled shelving unit leaning against the adjacent wall. “Our shop is having its grand opening tomorrow.” She rolled her shoulders, hating the edge to her voice. She was hungry and every muscle in her body hurt. And more than anything, she was tired. So, so, so tired.

Ashley shrugged and glanced around. “Everything looks great. Besides, we can’t put the shelves up on the back wall until you finish painting.” Her friend since the first day of kindergarten dragged a finger along a strand of her smooth blond hair and flipped it over her shoulder. “I told you that wall could wait, but you wanted to have everything perfect for tomorrow.”

Ellie angled her head. “Don’t you?”

“The shop looks great. We can shove those boxes in the back. No one will see them. Can’t those teenage boys from the church help again? They’re always looking for volunteer hours.” Ashley tapped the cardboard box with the toe of her new boots and rubbed her palms together. “No sense us breaking our backs.” Ashley laughed.

Ellie straightened, stretching the crick in her back. What did Ashley know about backbreaking work?

“Oh, you’re too much of a perfectionist,” Ashley continued. “You’ll always find things that need improvement.” Her pretty face brightened into a smile. “You need to relax. Have fun. Go on a date.”

Ellie forced a laugh. Go on a date? Not likely. She wished she could be as easygoing as her longtime friend, but someone had to be the serious one, the planner. Ashley had led a charmed life where everything had been handed to her. Ellie’d had to work for absolutely everything she had and she was done letting others make decisions for her. She was finally taking the reins. Opening her gift shop as she’d always dreamed.

When the right time came, Ellie had reached out to Ashley. Ellie had the vision. Ashley had the financial resources via a trust fund. Their arrangement worked. Ellie liked control and Ashley didn’t mind being more or less a silent partner, especially when she had a date or more pressing matters.

Ashley grabbed Ellie’s hand and swung it playfully, nearly tugging her arm out of its socket. “Everything will be fine. I promise.”

“I do tend to stress.” Ellie reclaimed her hand and rubbed her shoulder.

“You’re a control freak.” Ashley shot her a you-know-I’m-right smile; a smile that always got Ashley exactly what she wanted. “I’m cool with that because I can be spacey sometimes.”

Ellie jerked her thumb to the wall separating their shop from the bakery next door. The smells of fresh-baked bread and sweet cupcakes permeated the shop when the paint fumes didn’t take over. “Are you going out with Tony again?” Nervous bubbles popped in Ellie’s stomach. Tony Vino and his father owned the bakery next door. “Do you think that’s a good idea? If things don’t work out, you’ll have to see him all the time.”

Ashley smiled. “You worry too much. Just have fun, can’t you? Besides, I promised him I’d treat him to dinner for all the help he’s been giving us. Can you imagine if we had to unload all those trucks ourselves?”

How quickly Ashley forgot about all the hard work of the young men from her church. And her brother. Greg had helped unload a truck or two. But now, suddenly, Tony, who seemed to do more flirting than actual work, was the hero in Ashley’s eyes.

Ellie rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance. “I have to clean up here. Can you at least come in early tomorrow to help me put up the shelves and unpack the last few boxes?”

“Of course.” Ashley tugged on the bottom of her sweater. “Our grand opening is going to be awesome. I have this really cute dress I’m going to wear.”

Ashley’s enthusiasm vibrated through Ellie. It was this passion that moved Ellie to action. Otherwise she might have still been holed up in her childhood bedroom, stewing over a dead-end job and mourning the breakup with her boyfriend. She blinked slowly, knowing she had dodged a bullet on that one. One of these days, she’d have to track down the poor girl who’d sent her boyfriend romantic texts and send her a thank-you note. If Ellie hadn’t casually picked up her boyfriend’s dinging cell phone and seen the texts, she might never have known he’d been cheating on her. That had been the pivotal moment. The push she had needed to break up with him, move back to Williamstown and change the direction of her life.

“Okay?” Ashley’s impatient tone suggested she had been trying to get Ellie’s attention while she was composing a thank-you note she’d never really write.

“I’ll be here at 7:00 a.m.,” Ellie quickly said to cover up the fact she had been zoning.

“Nine.”

“Fine.” Ellie’s tone was part amusement, part frustration. Why did she bother?

Ashley wiggled her fingers and ran out the front door and Ellie followed her to the exit. A set of bells clacked on the glass, an unnecessary setup considering the alarm system emitted a soft chime every time either the front or back door leading to the alley was opened. Ellie snapped the dead bolt into place and stared out onto quiet Main Street. The crimson-colored leaves on the trees fluttered in the wind and a few drifted to the ground. She loved this time of year.

Crisp nights. Crunchy leaves. Colorful knit sweaters.

She turned around and stepped into the center of her new gift shop. Excitement coursed through her. Finally, tomorrow was the grand opening. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to memorize the moment. Savoring this feeling for if, or more likely when, the going got tough.

Then something...a stillness maybe, sent a chill skittering down her spine.

Ellie rubbed her arms. She was tired. Really tired. But a good tired. Her muscles ached from all the physical labor she had done over the past three weeks getting this place ready. All she needed to do was clean up the roller and paint tray and call it a night.

Thwack.

The sharp noise sounded from the storage area. The fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled to life. Holding her breath, Ellie crept toward the storage-slash-office at the back of the store. She was such a chicken.

It’s nothing.

Her pulse whooshed in her ears totally not buying the “it’s nothing” theory. It didn’t help that the exterior door leading to the alley was propped open. Nothing strange there. She had propped it open. She hadn’t wanted the paint fumes to asphyxiate her. As it was, she had a dull headache thumping at the back of her eyes.

Her attention shifted to the floor. One of the paintings from a local artist that had been resting against the wall was now facedown on the gray concrete floor.

The wind knocked it over, that’s all.

Letting out a relieved sigh she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. She picked up the painting and set it on top of a stack of boxes. Boxes she hadn’t yet had a chance to sort through. She had given Ashley carte blanche to order for the store, but part of her wondered if they should have agreed on items. If they weren’t careful, they’d have more inventory than they could sell. Besides everyday gift-shop wares, they had taken in local work from artists and some unique items from around the world. She’d even included a few older pieces of her own. She longed for the time to create again. Ellie’s fingers itched at the thought.

Ellie glanced around the shop one last time. After a few last-minute finishing touches tomorrow, she’d host a reception. A grand opening. She was ready. She had to be. For the first time in her life, she was doing something she wanted to do that wasn’t defined by her family. Or a boyfriend.

This was her dream.

She picked up the roller and paint tray, carried them into the storage room and placed them in the utility sink. She removed the broom propping open the back door and the door slammed with a satisfying thud. She turned the bolt and checked the handle again.

Back at the sink, she turned on the hot water and let it run. The water flowed over the paint tray and roller and down into the drain in an orange spiral.

Ellie was eager to go home and get a good night’s sleep.

She sensed it a millisecond before she felt it.

Something hard slammed into her. Her knees buckled. A tiny yelp escaped as icy dread swirled in her gut. A prayer floated to mind as automatically as her next breath filled her lungs.

Dear Lord, help me.

A hand clamped over her mouth, jamming her lips against her teeth. A firm arm steadied her, pressing her back against his torso. Heat radiated off his body. Panic and adrenaline surged through her veins. Pushing off the cement floor, she pressed against her attacker, but his rock-hard body forced the solid edge of the utility sink into her belly, making it impossible to move.

Every inch of her scalp prickled with a kind of fear she had never known. The fear humans must experience right before something very, very bad was about to happen.

“Don’t,” she mumbled against his hand.

He pulled her tighter to him. Something sharp on his jacket dug into her back.

“Please don’t...” she repeated, unable to see his face.

His warm, uneven breath rasped across her cheek. “Where’s the package?” he grunted before a sense of urgency exploded in her. She wrapped her fingers around the handle of the paint roller and brought it up hard and fast. She slugged him in the head with the wet end of the roller.

He backed off with an oomph and folded over, his black hood concealing his features.

Ellie bolted toward the entrance to the shop. She tripped over his foot, but regained her balance by grabbing the doorjamb. She swung into the shop.

Muttered curses sounded behind her. Terror charged every possible nerve ending. She ran forward, knees weak, as if she was caught in one of those nightmares where the ground swallowed each foot.

Steps sounded fast behind her.

This was no nightmare. This was real.

Ellie lurched forward and slapped her hand against the panic button on the alarm control next to the front door, a feature her brother had insisted she install. A feature she had thought silly in sleepy little Williamstown, New York, where the biggest crime involved kids and graffiti and a hundred-year-old mill and angry parents who footed the bill for cleanup so junior wouldn’t have a police record.

An ear-piercing, strident alarm sounded in the small space. She yanked open the front door. The redundant bells whacked the glass. She tripped over the lip in the doorway. She held out her hands to protect her face from the advancing concrete when two strong hands grabbed her forearms, steadying her.

A scream ripped from her throat.

* * *

On the sidewalk in front of Gifts and More, Special Agent Johnny Rock grabbed Ellie Winters and steadied her. Holding her thin, trembling arms, he tilted his head to look into her eyes, but she was squirming, looking frantically behind her.

An ear-piercing alarm split his eardrums.

“Easy there. What’s going on? You okay?” He tore his eyes away from her delicate features and scanned the empty shop behind her, his senses heightened.

Her eyes darted around wildly. “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” She yanked away from him, fear rolling off her in tense waves.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured her. “What happened?”

Her eyes landed on his and narrowed, something flickering in their depths. She seemed to shake herself. “Someone was hiding in my back room. He attacked me.” She lifted her hand absentmindedly to the back of her head. “He...he was chasing me and I...”

“Tripped?” Johnny raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, I tripped over the door frame.” Her forehead furrowed as if the blaring alarm was scraping across her nerves. Orange paint splotched the right shoulder of her T-shirt and more was spattered on her face. She pointed toward the back of the shop. “Someone’s in there.”

“Stay here. I’ll check things out.” He gently took her forearms and placed her against the brick front between the gift shop’s door and the entrance to the bakery. “Don’t move.”

She reached out, her fingers brushing featherlight against the back of his hand. “No, I don’t think you should. Wait for the police.” She winced against the harsh sound. “The alarm is tied directly into the police station. They’ll be here soon. I hit the panic button.”

“I’ll be fine.” In the chaos, she probably didn’t recognize him and realize he was in law enforcement. Last time he had stepped foot in her childhood home more than ten years ago, he had been a friend of her brother’s. A friendship that had been doomed from the start because it had been built on false pretenses. Johnny hadn’t really been a seventeen-year-old transfer student. Johnny had been a twenty-two-year-old rookie cop undercover as a narcotics officer about to rock the tranquil town of Williamstown.

A slam sounded from deep in the shop.

“Stay here,” Johnny repeated. “I can’t let him get away.” If he hasn’t already. This might be the break in the case he’d been patiently waiting for.

“I really don’t think—”

Johnny held up his hand. “Stay here.” She flinched at his command. He hadn’t meant to snap at her.

He stepped into the shop. Ellie had done a lot of unpacking since the last time he had casually strolled by to check on his target.

With a muscle ticking in his jaw, Johnny pulled his gun from its holster under his jacket. From the doorway to the storage room, he had a clear view of the back exit. Cautiously, he stepped into the storage room. He strained to listen above the blaring alarm. He checked behind the desk, around some boxes and in a small closet. All clear. A paint roller and orange paint sat in a puddle on the floor as if someone had thrown the roller across the room.

Whoever had been here was long gone. He twisted the handle on the back door and found it unlocked. He peered into the alleyway. Other than a large Dumpster and some trash cans, it was empty. He strode over and checked the Dumpster. The pungent smell of garbage clogged his nose, but there was no sign of any stowaway.

The shop’s alarm went silent. He returned to the back entrance of the storage room to find Ellie standing in the doorway leading to the shop. She was using the top of her shirtsleeve to wipe at the paint dots on her face. “I turned off the alarm. Police should be here soon.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s gone?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, thanks for coming to the rescue. The police should be here. You can go.” She crossed her arms and studied the gun in his hand. A mix of caution and concern pinched the corners of her mouth.

“I’d rather wait for the police to arrive if it’s all right with you.”

Ellie rubbed her forearms and narrowed her gaze at him, and seemed to look at him for the first time. Really look at him. A shadow of emotion crossed behind her eyes. An emotion he couldn’t quite read.

Johnny scratched his forehead and decided he better identify himself. “I met you a long time ago. I was a friend of your brother’s.” Was being the operative word.

“Johnny...Johnny Rock. Yeah, I recognized you as soon as my nerves calmed down and I realized my life wasn’t in imminent danger.” Her eyes grew dark. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Buffalo.” The brutal sting of accusation was evident in her tone, suggesting she wished he had stayed in Buffalo.

Johnny tucked his gun back in its holster. “I’m an FBI agent assigned to the Buffalo office.”

Ellie made a soft sound at the back of her throat but didn’t say anything.

“I’m back in Williamstown to help my grandfather move.” It was the truth, but not the entire truth.

Her perfectly groomed eyebrows shot up. “He’s selling the house on Treehaven Road?” A faraway look descended into her blue eyes and a smile curved her pink lips. “I always liked that house. I tried to paint it a time or two.”

“Paint it?” Johnny’s gaze dropped to the upturned paint tray on the floor.

She laughed.

He liked the sound of it.

Ellie shook her head. “I paint walls out of necessity. I prefer to paint landscapes. On canvas. It’s my true calling.”

Johnny nodded. “What happened here tonight?”

“I had the door propped open.” She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Stupid.” She took in a deep breath, then wrinkled her nose. “I can’t stand the fumes. I get migraines. Never thought someone would sneak in and attack me.”

He thought he noticed her shiver.

“Are you hurt?” He took a step forward and stopped when she flinched.

“I’m fine.”

“Have you had any problems at your shop before?”

She shook her head, her auburn hair with red highlights dropping over one eye. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I haven’t even opened the shop yet.” A look—an apology, maybe—crossed her delicate features. A faint splash of freckles dotted her porcelain skin.

“The person who attacked me said something about a package.” The color drained from her face.

“Do you know what he was talking about?” Johnny studied her closely.

“No, I have no idea.”

“If someone was in here, they exited through the back.” He hated to be Captain Obvious, but he didn’t know what else to tell her. He pulled open the door and checked the alley again. He had a clear view east to Eagle Street and west to Spring Street. “Whoever was here is long gone.” He closed the door and locked it.

Johnny opened his mouth to say something when he noticed a green-and-white police cruiser pull up alongside the curb out front. “The police are here.”

Ellie and Johnny walked through the shop and out onto Main Street. The window on the police cruiser slid down. Johnny recognized Officer Mickey Bailey, now a decade older and a few pounds heavier than when they’d first met, but easily identified as the right fielder on the only Williamstown High School baseball team that might have made it to the state championship.

Until the scandal.

Mickey didn’t bother to get out of the cruiser, preoccupied as he was with the laptop open on his console. “Alarm go off here?”

“Yes. I shut it off before you arrived,” Ellie said, her voice more confident now than when she’d first run out of the shop.

“Hey, Mickey.” Johnny approached the cruiser.

Mickey’s eye twitched and he looked up from the computer screen. Recognition swept over his ruddy features. His lips tightened as if to say, “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re here?” Mickey collected himself and hid his apparent disdain behind a smug smile. There was no love lost between the two men.

Mickey tapped the door with his open palm, then pushed it open. “Hey there, Johnny. What brings you to town?” The officer stepped onto the sidewalk and pulled on the waistband of his pants.

Johnny wondered briefly if the officer was taunting him. Mickey knew exactly why Johnny was in town. He was here to track the source of illegal drugs. The police department had agreed to keep his presence quiet.

Easier to catch the bad guys that way.

Ellie spoke up before Johnny had a chance. “He’s helping his grandfather move.”

Johnny detected a bite to her tone.

Mickey jutted his lower lip out and gave her a curt nod. “Is that so?” No doubt, several of the officers resented the FBI working what they considered their case. Rumor had it that a few of the officers had had their backsides handed to them in a sling for not tracking down the source of drugs before the nasty stuff claimed the life of a promising high school student.

Johnny jerked his thumb toward the shop. “Ellie was attacked in the back of the shop.”

The officer’s eyes showed the first sign of interest. “Did you see the guy? Can you give me a description?”

Ellie’s cheeks grew flushed and she shook her head, as if she somehow was to blame. “He was wearing a black hoodie, which now has orange paint on it. He was muttering something about a package.” She plucked at her own orange-stained T-shirt. “I whacked him with my paint roller.”

“Good for you.” The officer gave her a once-over that made Johnny suddenly feel possessive; a feeling he didn’t have a right to. “You hurt? Need an ambulance?”

Johnny lifted his hand to touch Ellie’s back, then thought better of it. His mind flashed to the skinny little girl who used to hang around in the kitchen when her older brother had his friends over. She wasn’t the same skinny little girl anymore.

“I’m fine. Just shaken up.” Ellie crossed her arms over her midsection and shivered.

“I checked out the shop and the storage area. Whoever was there is gone.” Johnny watched Ellie’s face turn pink.

The officer strolled toward the door. “I’ll check things out.” He unfastened the cell phone from his utility belt. “Let me call it in. Maybe someone’s seen something.” He disappeared into the shop at a slow saunter. The words big fish, small pond floated to Johnny’s mind.

Ellie turned to follow the officer into the shop. “I need to close up.” She went inside and turned the key in the drawer of the register.

“No sign of anyone.” Mickey emerged from the back room and tapped his palm on the counter. “You got a mess on the floor with that paint.” Leaning heavily on the counter, he lifted a foot, then the other to check the soles of his shoes. “I’ll write this up and we’ll keep a lookout for this guy. Anything stolen?”

“Not that I can tell,” Ellie said as she bent over and slid her purse and sweater out from under the counter.

Mickey pointed at her. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see she gets home,” Johnny said.

“I walked. I’ll be fine. I’ll clean up the mess in the morning.” She glanced around uneasily. “I don’t live far.”

Johnny took a step closer, refusing to take no for an answer. “Then it won’t take me long to walk you home.”

* * *

A soft breeze blew in over the lake as Johnny and Ellie headed for Eagle Street. Ellie unthreaded her gray sweater from around her purse strap and slipped one arm into it, hoping the paint on her T-shirt had dried. She reached for the other sleeve and Johnny helped her, his knuckles brushing the back of her neck, flooding her with memories. She had had such a crush on Johnny Rock. Who wouldn’t? He had been the new kid in town. A senior. The all-American high school student. An athlete. She had been the not-so-popular artsy middle school kid.

When they turned onto her street, she slowed. “I can make it the rest of the way from here.”

“I’d feel better if I escorted you all the way home.”

Inside, her fourteen-year-old self was squealing with delight. Johnny Rock is walking me home! Johnny and her brother, four years her senior, had been friends. The best of friends until it was revealed that Johnny was a narc. Her stomach knotted at the harsh reality of that painful time in her family’s lives.

“My mom won’t be pleased to see you.” Anxiety nipped at her fingertips as she sensed the futility of trying to shake him.

“Even after all these years.” Johnny’s even tone was hard to read.

“Even after all these years,” she repeated. Unlike Johnny, Ellie couldn’t hide the emotion from her voice. “You ruined my brother’s life. You accused him of selling drugs.” Her heart pounded in her ears. “You think ten years is long enough to forget that?”

The sound of Johnny’s even steps on the gravel made her frustration grow. She was ready to spill over like a Coca-Cola can after it had been shaken.

“Greg didn’t go to prison,” Johnny finally said, his voice ice and steel.

Ellie grabbed his arm to get his full attention. Johnny stopped walking and looked at her coolly. “My parents spent every last dime on the very best lawyer to prove his innocence.”

“Not guilty.” Johnny had the nerve to correct her. “There’s a difference.”

“What are you saying?” She took a deep breath, focusing on controlling her anger, fearing that if she didn’t, her loud voice would attract unwanted attention from the neighbors. Her family had been the source of gossip once and she didn’t want to go there again. “Still a sore loser after all these years?” Only Roger Petersen, the other teen arrested, had served any jail time. From what Ellie had heard, Roger had maintained his innocence for the duration of his five-year sentence and the five years since his release.

Johnny seemed to catch himself. “The only losers are the kids who get caught up with drugs who then become adults tied up with drugs. There are no winners there. I’m not happy about any of this.”

The reality of what Johnny said diffused some of Ellie’s anger. “I know. Drugs are a horrible thing. There was a senior who overdosed a few weeks ago. It’s tragic.” She ran her hand down her ponytail as her eyes tracked a car traveling down the lonely street. “Maybe they should put another narcotics officer in the high school.”

“I’m a little too old to go undercover in the high school again.” A corner of Johnny’s mouth curved into a grin.

“Of course. I’m not suggesting you go undercover.” The memory of seeing Johnny—the boy who had befriended her brother, the boy she’d had a crush on, the boy she’d thought was a high school senior—standing on the town hall steps dressed smartly in a police uniform announcing the arrests of the key players on the Williamstown High School baseball team still sent icy dread pulsing through her veins.

Her brother’s life had been ruined that day by Johnny’s careless accusations. Ellie had never allowed herself to ponder the fact that Roger had actually gone to jail. Had her brother gotten off because of a high-profile lawyer—one whose price had come at the cost of both her and her brother’s college educations? She quickly shook away the thought. No, Greg had been innocent. She didn’t know one way or another about Roger. But her brother had been.

“So, you’re an FBI agent now?”

Johnny nodded. “Seemed like a good career move.”

“Hmm...” Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if his career advancement from a small-town cop to an FBI agent came at the expense of others.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Ellie detected amusement in Johnny’s tone.

“No,” she said, quickening her pace, unwilling to let him crawl under her skin. She had spent a lot of emotion over the years blaming Johnny for the sudden turn her life had taken after her brother’s arrest.

A few houses away from her own, Ellie stopped and squared off with Johnny. She gestured with her thumb down the road. “You don’t think that...that incident back at my shop was random?”

Johnny gently touched her elbow and coaxed her forward. “He mentioned a package when he attacked you?”

“Yeah. Do you know what that means?” Her heart beat wildly as the soles of their shoes crunched the gravel on the edge of the road. A distant sound of footsteps echoed in her ears. Was someone following them?

Ellie glanced over her shoulder. A long row of arborvitaes straddling two properties rustled in the wind. A chill crawled down her spine.

Johnny hesitated as if he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “The FBI has been tracking a shipment of drugs to your gift shop.”

Ellie pressed a hand to her throat. Cold fear washed over her. “My gift shop? I don’t understand.”

“The FBI was tracking a shipment of drugs to your Main Street address when it went missing.” He rubbed a hand over his face and signaled with his head, indicating that they should pick up their pace. His urgency unnerved her.

“You think I’m dealing drugs?” She blinked rapidly. A soft breeze sent leaves skittering across the sidewalk then up into the air, like a minicyclone, much like her thoughts.

“I never said that. The FBI has been tracking a package that’s gone missing. We didn’t know if the dealer got to it before we did or if it got misplaced. But after tonight, I think whoever shipped it is still looking for it.”

Pinpricks of realization washed over her scalp and shoulders. “You’re not in town to help your grandfather. You’re here to investigate a drug deal.”

“Yes.” The single word came out clipped.

“And you didn’t tell me because you think I’m involved.” Ellie hated the squeaky quality of her voice. “I’m not,” she added out of desperation.

Johnny studied her a minute. “I believe you.” His cool tone made her wonder if she believed him.

She cocked her head and was about to say as much but something stopped her. “What does this mean?”

Johnny huffed in frustration. “I’d feel better if we had this discussion someplace less out in the open.”

“Tell me what it means.” Ellie crossed her arms and stood there like a stubborn preteen determined to get her way.

“It means I’m investigating drug trafficking in Williamstown. There’s some nasty stuff out there.”

“So you slinked into town just like you did ten years ago, only this time you’re an FBI agent and not a rookie cop.”

He jerked his head back as if her words had hit their mark.

“One thing remains the same,” she said, as the pounding of her heart filled her ears, “you’re lying to people to supposedly solve a case.”

Johnny hiked his chin, a determined look in his eyes. “I’m here because of the recent drug overdose. I couldn’t come blazing into town with a sign on my back. I’ve been honest with you tonight and I trust you’ll keep the reason I’m in town in confidence.”

Ellie shook her head, not knowing what to think.

“Listen, Ellie, someone thinks you have their drugs and they’re willing to break into your store and attack you to get them.” Johnny pinned her with his dark gaze.

“I don’t have the package.” She lifted a shaky hand and hugged the strap of her purse closer to her body.

“They don’t know that.”

The wind whipped up and rattled the branches of the trees, sending shadows dancing on the sidewalk under the street lamp. Ellie sniffed the air. Rain. She looked up at the starless sky. She pulled on the sleeves of her sweater and tucked her hands inside. As warm as it was during the day, the evenings tended to cool down quickly. That’s how it was in early autumn in Western New York.

“Are you cold?” Johnny asked.

“Yes, and more than a little freaked.”

Ellie quickened her pace, suddenly in agreement with Johnny’s need to get her home. “Maybe the attack was just some kid fooling around. They’ve had trouble with kids and graffiti at the old mill. I read something about it in the paper,” she added after he gave her a quizzical look. “Maybe he wanted to grab some of my paint and I got in the way.”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” Johnny’s matter-of-fact tone made her inexplicably angry.

Truth be told, neither did she. The intruder had asked about a package.

They turned up her driveway and Ellie slowed, her headache worsening. “You’re not helping your grandfather get the house on Treehaven ready to sell?”

“I hope to convince my grandfather it’s time to downsize. The house is too big for him. But he’s reluctant. Mostly, it’s a cover to allow me to conduct the investigation without drawing suspicion.”

Ellie felt the right thing to do would be to thank him for his honesty, but after their history, she couldn’t muster the words.

“I live in the apartment over the garage,” Ellie said instead, scanning her surroundings. Neat homes set back from the street with lots of shrubbery. Shrubbery an attacker could hide behind.

A band of fear tightened around her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Thin lines of stress accented Johnny’s eyes. “Lock the doors. I’ll give Officer Bailey a call. Couldn’t hurt to have extra patrols in your neighborhood.”

Ellie made an awkward sound; a cross between disbelief and fear.

Johnny touched her hand. “Whoever attacked you tonight was pretty clumsy. They also made a rookie mistake using a national shipping company to transport illegal drugs. Every indication points to a low-level drug dealer who’s stumbling around.”

“So, you don’t think he’ll come and kill me in my bed?” She forced a smile and a strangled laugh sounded on her lips.

The dark shadow on his face made his expression difficult to read, but she sensed a smile. “I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Warmth crept up her neck. She didn’t want to ask him how he intended to do that.

“Instead of staying in the garage apartment, maybe you could stay in the main house?” Johnny spoke in the way a person does when they’re constantly assessing the situation, trying to figure out what’s best.

“Ha! And tell my mother, who already thinks the gift shop is not a fiscally sound idea, that I was attacked in the back room the night before I even opened?” And moving back into her old room would send her plans of independence back to step zero. Living above the garage was bad enough.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“You said it was some rookie stumbling around...” She knew she was grasping at any assurances he threw her way.

“Rookie criminals get desperate, too. Especially if they think you have something that’s theirs.”

“I don’t.” Ellie’s shoulders slumped in frustration.

“They don’t know that. I’m afraid you won’t be safe as long as they think you do.”

TWO

“Well...” Ellie sighed heavily “...today didn’t go as I’d planned.” She dragged a hand down the length of her ponytail and rested her elbow on the railing of the stairs leading to her apartment above the garage. She wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. She’d never be able to sleep now. But she couldn’t very well invite him in for coffee. Johnny wasn’t exactly her friend, even if he had come to her rescue tonight.

Inwardly she bristled at the notion. She was not going to continue her trend of letting men rescue her. She could stand on her own two feet.

Johnny cleared his throat. “How are your parents?”

A small part of Ellie was relieved that Johnny wasn’t ready to call it a night, either.

“Dad’s been gone three years.” The back of her nose prickled. “Good thing, too, because if he saw you standing in his driveway, he’d come out here and knock you into next week.” She laughed at the memory of her high-spirited father cursing Johnny Rock up and down for tricking his son into this “whole drug business” as he’d called it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” There was something about his deep voice, his offer of sympathy in the cover of darkness, that felt more personal than it was. She didn’t know Johnny. Not really.

How could someone make a living pretending he was something he wasn’t and in the process mess up an innocent boy’s future? Johnny should have been more careful with his accusations.

“I’m sure he would be proud of you,” Johnny added.

Ellie shifted her stance. “I like to think so, but sometimes I don’t know. I used to say I wanted to go to college to study art. He’d tell me to be an art teacher. He was always practical. Not sure he’d like the idea of a gift shop.”

“Did you study art in college?”

Ellie’s stomach dropped at the mention of college.

A fat raindrop landed on her cheek and she wiped it away. “After my parents paid for my brother’s high-priced lawyer, there was no money left for college. For either of us.”

“I’m sorry things worked out that way.”

A few more drops plopped onto her head and shoulders and sounded loudly on the metal trash cans near the garage.

“But you’re not sorry for having my brother arrested?”

“We could go round and round about this until we’re both soaking wet.” Johnny squinted up at the sky.

She shook her head. “I better get inside.” Another drop fell, then another and another.

Oh, just great.

Ellie grabbed Johnny’s arm and pulled him toward her mother’s front porch. She wasn’t about to invite him into her apartment. “Wait out the storm. You’ll get soaked.”

The porch light flipped on and her mother appeared in the doorway.

Even greater.

Inwardly, Ellie rolled her eyes. Her mother was going to blow a gasket when she saw Johnny Rock standing on her porch with her daughter.

Nancy Winters squinted and tented a hand over her eyes to shield them from the bare bulb on the overhang of the front porch. “Hello, Ellie. Who do you have there?” A hint of accusation laced her mother’s tone. The screen door creaked as her mother pushed it open with an outstretched arm.

Before she had a chance to answer, Johnny smiled and extended his hand. “Hello, Mrs. Winters. It’s Johnny...Johnny Rock. It’s nice to see you.”

An expression Ellie had seen a million times settled on her mother’s features. The I’m-angry-but-it-will-have-to-wait look. The look her mother whipped out in the presence of company. “Hello, Johnny.” Her brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Johnny ran into me on Main Street. He offered to walk me home.” The words tumbled out of Ellie’s mouth.

Her mother glanced at the overhang as the rain poured down. “Come in out of the weather. The rain will still get you if the wind starts up.”

Johnny raised his hand, about to protest. Ellie shook her head slightly. “You might as well come in. My mom won’t take no for an answer.”

He shrugged and smiled. He had grown more handsome in the ten years since she had seen him. His brown hair was cut close on the sides and a little longer on top. Hair a girl could run her fingers through.

Where did that come from?

A smile curved his mouth and heat warmed her cheeks. Good thing he couldn’t read minds.

“I suppose I’ll come in,” he said, “until the rain lets up.”

Ellie held the door and Johnny brushed past her. His clean scent tickled her nose and a fondness coiled around her heart. Oh, she didn’t need this complication in her life.

Johnny glanced down at her and she smiled tightly at him, dismissing her feelings as remnants of a silly schoolgirl crush.

“Have a seat,” Ellie said, holding her hand out toward the small kitchen table in front of the windows. Johnny did as she said. Ellie took the chair across from him, fully aware of his masculine presence in the small space.

Why couldn’t the rain have held off for five more minutes?

“So, what brings you here, Johnny?” Her mother busied herself filling the teakettle at the kitchen sink.

Ellie shot Johnny a don’t-mention-the-intruder look.

“My grandfather is selling the house on Treehaven Road. I’m giving him a hand organizing and packing. That sort of thing.”

Nancy set the kettle on the stove with a deliberate clunk. She turned the back burner to high and set about the business of getting out three teacups and the tea bags before bothering to ask if they wanted any tea. A rainy evening called for tea, whether they agreed or not.

“And you’re able to get away from your job?” Her mother crossed her arms and glared at him; a searing look that would have had the teenage Ellie confessing to sins she hadn’t committed.

“I’ll be following up on some work-related things while I’m here. I work for the FBI.” Johnny hooked his arm around the back of the chair, oblivious to the tension hovering in the air. Ellie imagined FBI agents didn’t spook easily.

“You’re with the FBI now, huh?” Her mother seemed to be considering something as she tore the paper away from the tea bag.

“Yes, ma’am. In Buffalo.”

Nancy’s features softened as if she had come to some conclusion. “Johnny, did you hear Greg has a good job working for the town? He’s in maintenance. Makes good money working overtime. Good benefits.”

“Good to hear.”

“And Ellie is opening a shop in town—but you probably know that, too.” Her mother stood tall, like a proud mama bear ready to swipe at anyone who dared hurt her cubs.

“Mom...” Ellie hated how her tone made her sound juvenile. Far younger than her twenty-four years.

Ellie swallowed the bile rising in her throat. She wondered why God would send rain when she was seconds away from getting rid of Johnny and her mother being none the wiser.

“How did you run into Ellie tonight?”

Ellie shot Johnny a sideways glance that didn’t go unnoticed by her mother.

“What? What are you hiding from me?”

If Ellie could have melted into the floor like that wicked witch, she would have poured her hot tea over her head. No one lied to Nancy Winters. No one. The FBI had nothing on her mother’s well-honed lie detector.

Ellie inhaled a deep breath and then let it spill. “Tonight when I was painting in the shop, I left the alley door propped open.” A ticking started in her head. “Someone snuck in—”

“Snuck in!” Her mother’s hand flew to her chest. “Did something happen to you? Are you hurt?” She rushed to Ellie’s side and cupped her daughter’s cheeks with her cool hands.

Suddenly feeling very conspicuous, Ellie pushed back in her chair and smiled awkwardly up at her mother. “I’m fine. Just a little paint in my hair and on my T-shirt.” She swallowed around her fear. “You know how those teens have been doing graffiti on the stone walls at the park? Kids were probably looking to steal my paint and I surprised them.”

She hoped God would forgive her this little white lie to spare her mother a sleepless night.

Nancy’s worried eyes moved to Johnny. “Is that what happened?”

His gaze flicked to Ellie, then back to her mother.

“Officer Bailey is looking into it. I’ll follow up with him if it’d make you feel better.”

“Oh...I...I’m sure our local police are more than capable.” Ellie’s mother must have remembered she didn’t want to ask the likes of Johnny for help.

Or perhaps her mother feared her daughter would get swept off her feet again. Make another stupid mistake. And with the man who had ruined her brother’s life.

But what her mother had yet to realize: Ellie refused to get involved with anyone. She was done looking for approval through a man’s eyes.

* * *

The next morning Johnny wandered down the back stairway into his grandfather’s kitchen. Through the exterior French doors, he was surprised to see the eighty-year-old man raking leaves in the backyard, his golden retriever keeping him company. His grandfather was ten years older than when Johnny had moved in with him for his undercover narcotics position at the high school, and his face was thinner, but he still kept active. This old house was a lot to maintain.

However, a neighbor had caught Johnny in the driveway yesterday and expressed some concerns about his grandfather’s physical ability. Johnny hadn’t been around long enough to determine if this was a valid concern or simply the grumblings of a neighbor who didn’t like that his grandfather’s once stately Victorian had fallen into disrepair.

Johnny opened the doors to the outside and the crisp morning air hit him. He stepped down onto the stone patio. Dandelions pushed through the cracks between the pavers. Maybe he’d fix a few things while he was here. Every improvement would help his grandfather sell the place sooner—if only he could convince him now was the perfect time to sell.

To date Johnny hadn’t been able to convince his grandfather of anything.

“You’re up early,” Johnny called to his grandfather.

His grandfather, or “Buddy” as most people called him, stopped raking and rested his elbow on the handle. “The older I get, the less I sleep.”

Johnny imagined his grandfather had a lot of regrets that kept him awake at night.

“Any break in the case?”

Johnny bent and yanked a dandelion out by the roots. “Not yet.” He had told his grandfather he was in town working on a case, but he hadn’t given him many details. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his grandfather; he just didn’t want to put the elderly gentleman in the position of accidentally compromising an active investigation.

“Your investigation... Does it have anything to do with that intruder over at the new gift shop?”

Johnny angled his head and studied his grandfather. “How did you know about that?”

Duke, the golden retriever, ran over to Johnny and was rewarded with a pat on the head. Johnny pulled a dry leaf from the patch of gray in the dog’s fur.

“Heard about it when I ran up to the convenience store for the morning paper.”

“Nothing goes unnoticed in a small town.”

“You should know that by now.” Buddy arched his gray brow. “Whatever you’re working on, be careful. People have long memories and still blame you for ruining those boys’ lives.”

“You mean the boys I arrested for dealing drugs at the high school?” Johnny bit back the sarcasm.

“One of them wasn’t convicted.”

“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t guilty.”

“That’s not how people think. You know that. People don’t forget.” His grandfather jabbed at a pile of leaves with the rake. “Sometimes I think more people were upset you ruined the chances of the baseball team going to the state championship than about the arrests themselves.”

Johnny shook his head. “There’s more at stake now. A young boy died of a drug overdose. I need to get these drugs off the street. They are nasty stuff. Deadlier than most.”

His grandfather walked toward him and stumbled on a root. Johnny lunged forward to catch him, but the older man righted himself with the support of the rake before Johnny reached him. “Stupid roots.” Buddy shook his head. “I know how important this investigation is. Even though there’s plenty of crime in Buffalo, you keep ending up back here in Williamstown.”

“The chief of police requested the FBI’s help.”

“Maybe after you reached out to them after seeing news of the boy’s death on TV?” The sudden surge of deaths due to drugs throughout the area had made the death of a Williamstown honor student news, even forty minutes away in Buffalo.

Johnny didn’t say anything.

His grandfather balanced the rake against a small patio table and lowered himself slowly onto a wrought-iron chair that could have used a fresh coat of paint. He rubbed Duke’s head playfully and made a few affectionate noises. After a minute he said, “Your being here has nothing to do with Mary Claire getting hooked on drugs when she was a student at Williamstown?”

Buddy’s hands shook as he spoke of his only daughter. Johnny’s mother.

Johnny swallowed around a lump in his throat, not trusting his voice.

“You never did get over losing your mother.”

How did one get over losing a mother due to a drug overdose when he was twelve, which had then landed him in foster care? No, that pretty much stuck in a kid’s mind. Forever.

Johnny was lucky—if he could call it that—that he had just come off a pretty rough case and his direct supervisor at the FBI had thought he needed some downtime. They had agreed on a compromise: Johnny could take a pseudo leave of absence and help his grandfather get the old Victorian house ready for sale, all while serving in an official FBI capacity to help the Williamstown police department get the drugs off the street.

The wind whispered through the trees, sending more leaves floating to the ground. “You’ve got a big job out here,” Johnny said, referring to the leaves.

Johnny didn’t like talking about his mother, even though her loss was seldom far from his mind. His grandfather rarely mentioned her either, so this morning’s comment had thrown Johnny for a loop. He and his grandfather had a cordial relationship. Not a deep one.

“You know I would have taken you in when you lost your mother if I could have.” His grandfather glanced up at him briefly with glistening eyes, and then away to his faithful companion as if embarrassed. “See, your grandmother... Well, Dottie couldn’t accept that her daughter...her only child, had made so many bad decisions.”

Johnny had never understood why he’d had to go into foster care. Why his grandparents had never taken him in. When he’d tried to broach the topic years ago, Buddy had changed the subject. Perhaps when Johnny had come to stay with his grandfather a decade ago—a few months after his grandmother had died—he hadn’t yet been ready to open up.

“I appreciate you letting me crash here now. That’s what counts.” Johnny struggled to get the words out without revealing emotion. He had gotten good at that over the years.

His grandfather had a distant look in his eyes. “I should have insisted we take you in when you were just a young boy. It wasn’t right what we did to you.” Regret rolled off him in waves and crashed on Johnny, pounding him with his own list of shoulda-coulda-wouldas. “Your grandmother was in so much pain and seeing you was a reminder of everything we had lost. I thought...”

Johnny put his hand on his grandfather’s shoulder as if to say, “It’s okay,” since the words got clogged in his throat. He took a moment to compose himself. “As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m in town to help you move. Only the local police are aware of the drug investigation.”

And Ellie knew, but he didn’t want to get into that yet with his grandfather. Part of him was glad she knew. He wanted to be honest with her. Not hide behind his usual cloak of some fake identity.

As long as she was deserving of his trust.

“I don’t want to leave this old place. Where would I go?” The lost look in his grandfather’s eyes cut through him. “And what about Duke?” Buddy patted the dog’s back. “Maybe it’s time you moved on, son. There’s plenty of crime in Buffalo, right?” Buddy’s mouth slanted into a sad, lopsided grin.

“Yes, I’m afraid there is. But I need to be here.”

“I’m afraid we’ll never find peace. No matter what. Mary Claire’s death was senseless.”

Johnny jerked his head back.

“Don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean. You’re trying to fix a wrong that can’t be fixed.”

“If I can save one kid, it’ll be worth it.”

“Make sure you don’t lose yourself in the process.” Buddy stood and approached Johnny. He tapped his grandson’s cheek.

Nostalgia made his gut ache. He wished the years of hurt hadn’t bent his grandfather’s once-tall stature.

Johnny found himself studying the overgrown tree roots pushing through the plush grass. “I have plans later this afternoon, but I thought we could start by going through the closets in the bedrooms this morning.”

“I don’t need you to be creating projects for me. I had had a lifetime of honey-do lists from Dottie.” His grandfather gave him a hard smile and looked up at the large Victorian.

Johnny recalled his mother’s grumbling about her childhood, always painting a far different picture. Johnny couldn’t reconcile this beautiful home and his friendly grandfather with the dark childhood Mary Claire Rock had described. His mother had been an angry woman.

“I’m not ready to move. Your grandmother and I had so many hopes when we first moved in...” Buddy’s voice trailed off. Not all their hopes had been realized.

“I know.” That was only partially true. Johnny had no idea what it would be like to have roots so deep. Johnny had no idea what it meant to have roots at all. His mother had always kept them on the move. And foster care had added to his sense of instability.

Would any place ever feel like home?

* * *

Later that day at the grand opening of the gift shop, Ashley came up behind Ellie and cupped her shoulders.

Ashley whispered into her ear, “Are you looking for something?”

Ellie sucked in a quick breath, trying not to overreact to her friend’s stealth approach from behind. Doesn’t she realize that that’s the last thing you did to a person who had recently been attacked in this very same location?

At this rate, Ellie was going to be terrified to enter the storage room of her gift shop.

Heart racing in her ears, Ellie glanced down to see a stuffed mushroom with a bite out of it pinched between Ashley’s expensively manicured fingertips. The offending food hovered inches away from the sleeve on Ellie’s new pink dress. A definite splurge for a poor, new business owner.

Ellie pivoted away and forced a smile. She grabbed a towel off the edge of the sink and dried her hands. “Thanks for unpacking these boxes.” She figured that was better than asking her friend why she couldn’t have taken the time to collapse the boxes for recycling. “How much longer did you work this afternoon after I left?”

Ashley frowned and seemed to notice for the first time the boxes discarded in an unorganized heap in the corner.

Ellie noted the shadow darkening the surface of her friend’s eyes; a confused look she had perfected when she either didn’t want to give an answer or when she truly didn’t know the answer.

Ashley popped the stuffed mushroom into her mouth and blinked a few times. “I didn’t unpack those boxes,” she said around a mouthful. She peeked into one of the open boxes. “They’re not empty. Maybe you started to unpack them and forgot in your whirlwind.”

Had she? Ellie fiddled with her bracelet. It didn’t seem likely. She might be frazzled, but forgetful?

“Did you lock the door when you left? Set the alarm?” Ellie knew she shouldn’t have left before Ashley, but her friend had insisted on waiting for Tony and Ellie’d had a hair appointment she hadn’t wanted to be late to.

Ellie tried not to let her mind jump to the worst possible scenario. Was someone searching for something? She was determined to control her rioting emotions. A few guests had already filtered into the shop. She shouldn’t be wasting time in the storage room. She had only run back here to wash her hands.

“Of course, I locked the door.” Ashley shrugged, sweeping her long blond hair over one shoulder and combing her fingers through it much like a person holding a kitten and stroking its fur. Ashley had done this for as long as Ellie could remember: first with a long braid in kindergarten and then with her smooth, flat-ironed locks in high school.

“And the alarm?” Ellie frantically searched her memory. She had been too stressed and distracted when she’d arrived at the shop this evening to remember if she had turned off the alarm or not.

Ashley shrugged again. “Not the alarm.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It was the middle of the day.” One corner of her mouth turned up. “What? You think someone broke in here and messed up a few boxes?”

“I told you what happened last night. Someone—” she lowered her voice into a harsh whisper “—attacked me. Right here.” She jabbed her index finger at the stain of orange paint on the floor. She had left out the part about Johnny’s investigation.

A contrite expression settled on Ashley’s features. “I’ll make sure I set the alarm from now on.” She adjusted the belt on her dress. “But you and I know we were so busy this morning making final preparations that we might have knocked those boxes over. Who knows?” Ashley gently tapped Ellie’s forehead. “Don’t let your overactive imagination get the best of you.”

Ellie rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe you’re right.” The haphazard pile of boxes taunted her.

“I came back here to tell you your handsome FBI guy has arrived.”

“Really? Johnny’s here?” She smoothed a hand down the front of her dress and Ashley lifted a knowing eyebrow.

Ellie was already regretting that she had mentioned that Johnny had happened by last night after the attack. Ashley was duly impressed that he was an FBI agent. And her singsong tone when she announced his arrival indicated she’d never let Ellie forget she had once had a schoolgirl crush on him. Ashley had witnessed firsthand how Ellie would linger in the family room when her brother would have his friends over to watch a baseball game on TV. Her skin heated with the memory. Ellie had made such a fool of herself mooning over her brother’s friend.

Ellie opened her mouth to tell her that Johnny wasn’t her handsome FBI guy, but decided protesting at a moment like this would be a tactical error. Protesting would be a huge flag for Ashley to hoist and run with, broadcasting everything Ashley knew about her friend’s crush. Well...before Johnny had turned out to be an undercover narcotics officer.

“Well, aren’t you going to greet him?” The single question was rife with expectation.

“We better get out front and see to all of our guests,” Ellie said, deflecting her friend’s line of questioning. They slowed in the doorway and she whispered, “Looks like a great turnout.”

“Of course. Did you expect any less?” Ashley leaned in close, smelling of garlic and feta and a hint of olive oil. “Now, you better go talk to that yummy man over there or I will.” She leaned in close to Ellie and pointed slyly with a hooked index finger at Johnny who was studying a painting on the wall.

One of her paintings.

Perhaps sensing their eyes on him, he turned and faced her, a wide smile splitting his handsome face. She felt her face flush. Again. She glanced away so as not to be caught staring. Man, Johnny looked sharp in a casual sport coat and collared shirt.

“You sure got it bad,” Ashley said and laughed. All the reasons Ellie was drawn to Ashley were displayed on her friend’s playful expression. Ashley saw the bright side in everything. Nothing got her down. Ashley tapped her friend’s arm and waggled her eyebrows before strolling away to greet some other guests.

Ellie shook off her misgivings about the upended open boxes in the storage room and walked over to greet Johnny.

“The store looks great,” he said. “You got the shelves on the back wall up.”

The shelving unit softened the bold color she had been second-guessing from the minute she had opened the paint can. “Thanks. I’m happy with how it turned out.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “How did you know about the grand opening?”

He studied her, a hint of amusement on his face. “The flyer on the front window.”

“Oh,” she said, suddenly feeling foolish. “Of course.”

Johnny pointed to the painting on the wall that he had been studying. “You’re talented.”

“I was inspired.” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she dipped her head. She had never learned to take a compliment. On the canvas, she had captured the sun exploding over the horizon, the purple and pink clouds floating over the ocean. Looking at God’s creation even now filled her with awe.

Standing close to Johnny, she noticed that tiny lines etched the corners of his eyes, reflecting the ten years since she had last seen him. She also detected a hint of aloe aftershave and Dove soap and smiled to herself. That’s how he’d smelled back when he used to hang out at her house, sitting around the table with her family.

Almost part of the family. That’s why his accusations had hurt so much.

“Everything okay?” Johnny asked, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Are your brother and mom here?” The small shop was crowded.

“Unfortunately my niece Grace is in the talent show at school. I had already advertised the grand opening in the paper, so I couldn’t switch nights.” Ellie shrugged, but couldn’t deny the disappointment that had settled in her gut. Perhaps it was better this way. Her mother thought her efforts were a waste of time and money.

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, but I’d hate for Grace to be disappointed.” She rubbed her bare arm, eager to change the subject. “Some opened boxes were knocked over in the back this afternoon. Can’t say for sure if they were like that before I left to get ready for the party.”

“But you don’t think they were?”

Ellie bit her lip. “I’m pretty organized. Ashley, on the other hand...and she was the last to leave.”

“I’ll wander back there and check it out.”

The chimes on the door jangled and a few more guests filled the small space.

“Did you or the police find out anything more about last night?” she whispered.

Johnny shook his head. “Sorry.”

The celebratory mood had deflated as her nerves buzzed at the memory of being attacked yesterday.

“Enough of that.” He gestured with his head toward the food. “Those appetizers look great. Any chance you have those little hot-dog thingies wrapped in crescent rolls?”

Ellie felt a smile pulling at her lips. “No, I must have left those off the menu.”

His forehead crinkled. “Really?”

“No, not really.” She laughed. “I was shooting for a little more upscale.”

Johnny adjusted the flap of his sport coat. “Are you saying I’m not upscale?”

“I enjoy a hot dog as much as the next guy, but tonight is more a scallop-wrapped-in-bacon kinda night.”

“Bacon?” Humor lit Johnny’s brown eyes. “You are definitely my kind of girl.”

Ellie felt like that fourteen-year-old girl with a crush on her brother’s best friend. She was so in trouble.

No, no, no. She was not looking for a relationship. Based on the last one, she was horrible at judging men. She was determined to make a go of it alone. And the easiest solution? No more relationships.

The door bells chimed in the background, saving Ellie from making a fool of herself. She patted Johnny’s arm. “Go find yourself some bacon. I need to greet my guests.”

She felt Johnny’s eyes on her as she walked away. She plastered on a smile and greeted members from her church and the neighborhood. She hoped tonight’s success was an indication of the shop’s future.

A few times over the course of the evening, she found Johnny watching her and she wondered if he was here to protect her or because he thought she was somehow involved with this so-called missing package. Or maybe he just really liked her bacon-wrapped appetizers. Ellie really didn’t want to believe he was suspicious of her, but Johnny had crushed her family when he’d had her brother arrested for dealing drugs. He had insinuated himself into her family’s lives to suit his purposes. Was he getting close to her for reasons all his own?

She shook away the thought. She’d keep her distance. She had no interest in a relationship, genuine or otherwise. But definitely not otherwise.

And she did feel better with him around. He did carry a gun, after all, and someone seemed to have a beef with her.

The bells on the door jangled and the last guest left. Ashley had departed a few minutes earlier, ducking out with her new boyfriend Tony. She had promised to come back early tomorrow morning to help clean up, but Ashley knew Ellie well enough to know she couldn’t lock the door without cleaning up.

Ellie tossed a few empty food trays into the garbage.

Johnny gathered up some cups scattered around the shop.

“Thank you, but you really don’t need to help.”

“I don’t mind.”

Ellie was about to say something then decided to let it rest. Even though a million thoughts ping-ponged around her head, she didn’t need to share them all with Johnny.

A crash sounded from the back of the store and Ellie jumped, splashing the contents of the punch bowl up and over the edge. Her mind flashed to last night: the man slamming her body against the utility sink; his calloused hand against her mouth. She gasped, a cold fear washing over her.

Johnny moved toward her, a concerned look on his face. He held out his hand, indicating she stay put.

Ellie swallowed hard as she watched him disappear into the storage room, her pulse beating erratically in her ears. A few minutes later he returned with a piece of paper. He locked gazes with Ellie.

Her stomach dropped.

“This was stuffed in the hole of a brick.” He pointed with his thumb toward the back door. “There’s a nice dent in the middle of the exterior door where he threw the brick.”

Tiny stars danced in Ellie’s line of vision. “What does it say?” The words rasped out of her dry throat.

She read over his shoulder. In angry black letters, the wrinkled note read, “Stop playing games or you die.”

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