“I’ll have to look through my jewelry box.”

“Do it. I’m going to check the rest of the house.”

“Carter. Darling. Put on a shirt.”

Carter looked down, then grinned sheepishly. “Oh.”

“And be careful.”

“I’ll be right back. Then maybe I’ll take my shirt off again.”

Rica smiled. “Maybe you will.”

v

Reese sat on the examining table waiting for Nita. She kept her pants on but had stripped from the waist up. After checking out the paper gown, she tossed it aside and put her uniform shirt back on, leaving it unbuttoned. She didn’t wait long.

“Hi, Reese,” Nita said as she entered and closed the door behind her. “How are you doing?”

“Tory’s worried about me.”

Nita dropped Reese’s chart onto the small pull-down desk attached to the wall, then leaned against the counter that held the sink and cabinets. “What about you? Are you worried?”

“I haven’t been.”

“How do you feel?”

Reese sighed. “That’s a really tough question.”

Nita nodded. “I get that. I really do. There’s no right answer, or even one answer. Let me ask some questions and we’ll see if we can get to a few of them. Does anything bother you physically?”

“No,” Reese said immediately. “No pain.”

“Fatigue? Weakness? Generally just not feeling up to par?”

“I haven’t noticed any change since I…got back.” Reese frowned.

“You know, I can’t really remember what I felt like before I went.”

“Sometimes the experiences that change our lives reset our entire worldview. Even of ourselves.”

“I’m not much of a philosopher, Nita,” Reese said ruefully. “I used to be a Marine. Now I’m a cop. I’ve got three things in my life that

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matter to me. Tory, our daughter, and my job. Nothing will ever change that.”

Nita smiled. “How are you sleeping?”

“A little erratically. I have nightmares sometimes. I’m sure Tory told you.”

“What about when you’re awake? Are you having flashbacks?”

“Brief ones. Not as often as I did.” Reese grimaced. “A couple of times I’ve had sort of mini-flashbacks.” She described the episode she’d had when Tory had called to say someone was in the house.

“Can you remember any physical symptoms associated with that?

Severe headache, a strange smell? Numbness or tingling in your hands or feet? Weakness in your arms or legs?”

“No,” Reese said with certainty. “Nothing like that.”

“Have you had any chest pain, the sensation that your heart was racing out of control?”

“No.”

“Night sweats?”

Reese hesitated. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Gently, Nita asked, “Have you ever had these symptoms while you were making love?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Nita pulled the blood pressure cuff out of its metal holder on the wall. “I’m going to examine you and then draw some blood for a battery of tests. Would you take your shirt off, please.”

“Will you do me a favor?” Reese asked as she shrugged off her shirt.

Nita nodded, taking in the scars on Reese’s shoulder, arm, and abdomen. “Of course.”

“If you find something wrong with me, will you tell me before you tell Tory?”

“Will you promise not to keep anything from her?”

“Yes. But I don’t want her to find out alone. I don’t want her to be frightened without me there.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” Nita pulled her stethoscope out of the pocket of her white coat. “You’ve made a rapid and impressive recovery from a series of severe traumatic events.

You’ve returned to a very high-stress job in record time. You’re functioning exceptionally well. The symptoms you’re experiencing

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may be variants of posttraumatic stress. They’re not typical because you are a very unusual woman.”

“They could be something else, right? A brain tumor or something?”

“It’s possible, but with such isolated symptoms, not as likely.”

Nita paused after wrapping the cuff around Reese’s arm. “Are you concerned about that?”

“Only for her.”

“Tory can handle anything, Reese. Trust her.”

“I do.”

“Good,” Nita said casually, watching the pressure on the gauge.

She let the cuff down all the way, then inflated it again. “I understand you might be having another child.” She felt Reese tense and took her blood pressure again. Both her pulse and blood pressure had jumped dramatically. “How are you feeling right now?”

“Nervous.”

“About what?”

“You weren’t here when Reggie was born. Tory almost died.”

“I remember her telling me. She had preeclampsia. That can come on fast and get out of control quickly. They’ll be looking for that next time.”

“But there’s no guarantee they can prevent it,” Reese said, her voice gravelly.

“No, there isn’t.” Nita reached for the ophthalmoscope. “You and Tory will have to have some frank discussions with your obstetrician.

I’m sure that will help.”

Reese didn’t say anything. She would give Tory anything she wanted, if she could. She would do anything to ensure Tory’s happiness and well-being. But she couldn’t face the possibility of losing her, not even for something that Tory wanted as much as she wanted another child. And she didn’t know how to tell her that.

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chapteR eleven

When Reese returned, Carter was waiting in her office. Reese closed the frosted glass door, hung her hat on the spindly wooden rack next to it, and walked around behind her desk.

“Sorry to bother you in the middle of the day,” Carter said, dressed in jeans and a loose gray sweatshirt with her weapon on her hip. She was supposed to be off duty but something was clearly up.

“What’s going on?” Reese waved a hand for Carter to sit, but Carter just shook her head and paced a step, then caught herself. She looked about ready to ignite.

“Someone’s been in our house.”

“Run it for me.” Reese settled into her chair, folded her hands in her lap, and listened as Carter resumed pacing and told her about a missing shirt. “That’s it. Just the shirt?”

“As near as we can tell. Look, I know it’s not much—”

“Carter, if you say someone took it, then someone took it. The question is, why?”

“I’ve got a lot more questions than that.” Carter couldn’t stay still. She was angry and agitated and confused, and worried. She didn’t know what was going on, and if she didn’t understand it, she couldn’t do anything to prevent a problem. “Somebody’s messing around with Rica. The car last night. The shirt. Someone is targeting her. God damn it. God damn it.”

“Someone was in my house too.”

“I know. And that doesn’t make any sense. Messing with cops?

That’s just plain stupid.”

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“We don’t know the events are related. Could be a thrill seeker.

Could be kids acting on a dare.”

Carter snorted. “You don’t believe that.”

“I’m not discounting it, but I’m not looking for an easy answer either. Not when so much is at stake.” Reese told Carter about William Everly, his history with Bri, and the fact that he might also factor into the mix.

“I can see where Everly might go after Bri or Bri’s girl, or you or your family. But Rica and I weren’t here then. He doesn’t know us.”

“Doesn’t Caroline Clark spend time with Rica? At the gallery?”

“Sure. Caroline’s a local artist and Rica knows her. She thinks Caroline is really talented and they’ve gotten to be friends. I think Caroline even helps out sometimes—” Carter grimaced. “Well, hell.

We already know the guy is a stalker. If he’s been watching Caroline, then he probably knows Rica. You think he’d go after Caroline’s friends before her—if it is him?”

“Maybe. If Everly spent the last few years thinking about payback, maybe he doesn’t want it to be over so soon. Maybe he wants to circle around his real target for a while. A guy like that is going to need some way to blow off steam while he waits. So he’ll play with secondary targets first. If he hurts someone his primary target cares for—a friend or a lover—then he’ll also be removing a potential competitor.”

“I don’t mind telling you, I don’t like this one bit,” Carter said. “I don’t even want Rica to go to work, but I don’t want her home alone either. As if I could get her to stay home.”

“No one is going to get close to our families.” Reese stood. “How about you and I go pay this guy’s family a visit.”

“You think we’ll get lucky?” Carter wished it could be so easy, but her experience said otherwise.

“If he’s not there, we’ll sit on the place until he shows,” Reese said flatly. “They always come home. Sooner or later, they always come home.”

v

Allie kept silent as Ash evaluated the first two claims, watching her climb over piles of rubble to take photographs of the damaged buildings, measure sections of missing roofs, and sort through the detritus of the

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hurricane. The third building on their list was a fire-ravaged classic Cape Cod structure with its Wedgwood blue shutters hanging askew, most of the rear portion collapsed, and a yellow warning sign from the fire marshal on the door. A blackened oval plaque next to the front porch denoted it as one of the historic structures that had been floated over from Long Point on rafts. Allie’s curiosity finally overcame her still-smoldering anger and she asked, “What are you looking for exactly?”

Ash stopped halfway up the walkway to the entry, surprised that Allie had actually said something that wasn’t a biting criticism. The sun had long ago burned off the early morning fog, and she was sweating in the bright afternoon sun. Her shirt clung to the center of her back and chest, and she imagined she could smell the alcohol steaming out of her system. Maybe it wasn’t her imagination. She swiped an arm across her forehead. Being with Allie for the last two hours had been a study in masochistic gratification. She hadn’t been this close to Allie, for this long, in almost a year, and she took every opportunity to steal glances at her when Allie wasn’t looking. Allie was beautiful in anything she wore, but her full breasts and curvaceous backside looked great in a tailored uniform. Ash got more excited just looking at her than she had with most of the women she’d actually been in bed with. She felt as if she were awakening after a long hibernation, living and breathing again, all of her senses vibrating. She couldn’t stop herself, didn’t want to stop herself, from indulging in the illicit pleasure. But the exhilaration came at the price of knowing someone else would be the recipient of Allie’s smile, someone else would be holding her, someone else would be running her hands over that body. Probably in a few hours. The pictures playing in her head of Allie and the blonde together were methodically cutting her to pieces.