There’s no room in her life for love. Love has other ideas…

Konigsburg, Texas, Book 3

If Jessamyn Carroll had only herself to consider, staying in Pennsylvania after her husband’s death would have been a no-brainer. Her vindictive in-laws’ efforts to get their hooks into her infant son, however, force her to flee to a new home. Konigsburg, Texas.

Peace…at least for now. She’s even found a way to make some extra money, looking after sexy accountant Lars Toleffson’s precocious two-year-old daughter. She finds it easy—too easy—to let his protective presence lull her into thinking she and her son are safe at last.

Lars, still wounded from enduring a nasty divorce from his cheating ex-wife, tries to fight his attraction to the mysterious, beautiful widow. But when an intruder breaks into her place, and Jess comes clean about her past, all bets are off. Someone wants her baby—and wants Jess out of the picture. Permanently.

Now Jess has a live-in bodyguard, whether she wants him or not. Except she does want him—and he wants her. Yet negotiating a future together will have to overcome a lot of roadblocks: babies, puppies, the entire, meddling Toleffson family—and a kidnapper.

Warning: Contains Konigsburg craziness, creepy in-laws, a conniving two-year-old, a lovelorn accountant, a sleep-deprived Web developer, and lots of hot holiday sex.

eBooks are not transferable.

They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Be My Baby

Copyright © 2009 by Meg Benjamin

ISBN: 978-1-60504-843-7

Edited by Lindsey Faber

Cover by Natalie Winters

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

FirstSamhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2009

www.samhainpublishing.com

Be My Baby

Meg Benjamin

Dedication

To all the helpful critiquers in SARA (Beckie, Linda, Masha, y’all know who you are), to my ever-supportive editor Lindsey Faber, and to my guys, Bill, Josh, and Ben.

Chapter One

Lars Toleffson had oatmeal in his hair. He found it by accident while he was sitting drinking a beer with his brothers at the Dew Drop Inn in downtown Konigsburg, Texas. Since that was around five in the afternoon, he’d probably been wearing the oatmeal all day. He only hoped other people hadn’t noticed. Daisy, his two-year-old daughter, was learning to feed herself. She was really enthusiastic about breakfast, and sometimes her enthusiasm slopped over.

So to speak.

The only way Lars could have a beer with his brothers was through the generosity of his sisters-in-law, who’d taken Daisy with them to the park to see the city workers put up some decorations. Lars wasn’t sure what holiday was being decorated for—it was early November, but he had a feeling the decorations were probably for Christmas. Christmas was a big deal in Konigsburg, given the shopping frenzy the tourists usually went into once the season was officially open.

Lars sighed, rubbing his eyes. He adored his daughter. He’d moved to Texas to make a better life for her than she would have had in Iowa where his ex-wife lived within meddling distance, even though it meant giving up the automatic babysitting services provided by his folks. But sometimes he wished he could take a day off from being a full-time single parent.

Of course, every time he wished that, he ended up feeling like a total shit.

“Hey, bro.” His brother Pete dropped into a chair opposite him. “No dozing off at the table. At least not until you’ve listened to us talk for a few minutes. I mean, give us a chance to bore you to sleep first.”

Lars shook his head. “Sorry. Late night last night. Daisy didn’t feel like sleeping until midnight.” He’d felt like sleeping around eight-thirty himself, but that was par for the course these days.

His brother Cal pulled out a chair next to Pete. The three of them took up all the available space and some that wasn’t really available, like the area around the table where they tried to stretch their legs out. Their mother had given birth to four giants, all of them standing over six feet four. No wonder Mom had her grumpy moments.

“Hey, y’all, where’s the beer? Don’t we have a standing order by now?” Cal asked.

Pete shrugged. “Looks like she’s working her way down the tables.”

“She?” Cal raised an eyebrow.

“The waitress.”

Cal leaned forward, squinting into the darkness. The Dew Drop wasn’t well known for the candle power of its lighting. “What waitress? Ingstrom fired the waitress he had last week. Or she walked out—I’m not sure which.”

“He’s hired another one. He’s trying to upgrade the place.” Pete raised a hand, signaling. “Wonder says Ingstrom may even wash the windows one of these days.”

Cal widened his eyes in amazement. “You mean so we could actually see what this place looks like? Wouldn’t that destroy his business?”

“Whatcha want?”

Lars blinked. The woman standing beside the table wore a leather vest zipped over breasts the size of melons. Big melons. Her bare arms were covered in so many tattoos they looked blue. A roll of white flesh bulged between the bottom of her vest and the top of her jeans. The nametag on her left breast read Hi! My Name Is Ruby .

“Ya want anything or not?” Ruby sounded like she was getting pissed. Lars figured that would not be a good thing.

“Lone Star.”

“Dos Equis,” Cal muttered.

“Corona.” Pete was staring down at the table, trying very hard not to look at Ruby’s chest, which was only inches from his nose.

Ruby turned and stalked away.

Pete watched her retreat into the darkness. “You think she’s actually going to bring us those beers? Did we order right? Were we supposed to say ‘May I’ or something?”

“I think I’m not going after her to find out.” Cal shook his head. “Where the hell does Ingstrom find them?”

“Central casting. It doesn’t matter anyway. She won’t stick it out more than a couple of days. None of them ever does. Being a barmaid at the Dew Drop is not a major career move.”

“Here she comes again,” Lars cautioned.

Ruby reappeared from the gloom and plopped three bottles in front of them. “Six bucks,” she snapped.

Pete shook his head. “We’ll run a tab.”

“Fuck that,” Ruby snarled. “Six bucks.”

All three brothers dug out their wallets and plunked their dollar bills in front of her. Ruby stalked off again.

Cal took a deep breath. “That is one terrifying female.”

“Just wait a couple of days.” Pete took a deep swallow of Corona. “The next one will be worse.”

Lars took a pull on his Lone Star. Ruby was par for the course these days. At least for his course. Maybe his brothers’ lives were going more smoothly.

“Any luck on the new babysitter front?” Cal raised an eyebrow.

Lars shook his head. “Most of the home-care people are full up at this point. There’s that Wee Care place out near Highway 16, but they charge an arm and a leg, plus I didn’t like the look of it much.”

Pete frowned. “Dirty?”

Lars wasn’t sure if Pete’s jurisdiction as an assistant county attorney stretched to daycare center compliance, but he didn’t particularly want to find out.

“Not exactly. I just had a feeling Daisy would dismantle the place in under twenty minutes, given the large number of kids and limited number of caregivers.”

“And Daisy’s scientific curiosity about the Way Things Work.” Cal grinned. “Horace offered one of the large animal pens to hold her so we could keep her at the clinic, but I figured it’d never work. Plus Bethany said she’d skin both of us if we even thought about it.”

“If I didn’t do it first. This is my daughter you’re talking about. Your only niece, remember?”

Cal grinned. “Aw, come on, Lars. Knowing Dais, she’d regard it as a challenge to her mechanical abilities. She’d have that cage apart in ninety minutes, tops.”

“I’d give her an hour,” Pete mused, “but it would probably be more like forty-five minutes. Did you see what she did to my old Rubik’s Cube?”

Lars tried scowling at Cal, but it didn’t work. His younger brother had been the nicest guy in Lander, Iowa, for twenty years and was now the nicest guy in Konigsburg, Texas, as well as its most popular veterinarian.

Pete took a swig of Corona. “When does Mrs. Melendez leave?”

“End of next week.” Lars sighed again. “If I can’t get anybody by then, I’ll have to go with Wee Care until I can.”

Mrs. Melendez had been Daisy’s babysitter ever since they’d made the move to Konigsburg permanently, a week after his divorce from Sherice had become final. Now she was leaving for McAllen. Lars only hoped they hadn’t driven her out of town.

“You still running the ad in the Tribune-Zeitung ?”

“Until the end of the month. I’ve only had a few calls, though, and none of them were people I wanted looking after Daisy.”

Cal grinned again. “If only you didn’t have this unreasonable prejudice against multiple body piercings.”

“Right. You never know—maybe Daisy would like tooling around the countryside in the sidecar of a Harley.” Pete took another pull on his Corona.

“You two are hilarious.” Lars sighed. Sometimes it seemed like he did nothing but sigh these days.

Pete’s forehead furrowed. “Janie would do it in a shot. So would Docia. But Daisy wouldn’t be happy stuck in the bookstore all day, and they both need to be there. We’re moving into the big tourist season from Thanksgiving through the end of December.”

Lars nodded. “I know. I appreciate them taking her when they do. They’ve been great.”

Cal leaned forward, suddenly serious. “Look, bro, we all love Daisy. We all want to help. Just ask us.”

Lars felt like sighing again, but he didn’t. His brothers were two of the main reasons he’d moved Daisy down here, his ex-wife and her presence in their former home in Iowa being the other main reason. “Thanks. If I think of anything you could do, I’ll let you know.”

“Dadee!” someone crowed.

Lars didn’t have to ask who that someone was. Only Daisy’s voice had that odd combination of Iowa and Texas, with a trace of Texican thrown in, courtesy of Mrs. Melendez.

He glanced toward the bar. Ingstrom was narrowing his eyes in the general direction of his No minors allowed on the premises sign. Both Cal and Pete occasionally brought their dogs to the Dew Drop, but Lars figured Daisy would be one step over the line.

“Dadee!”

Lars turned toward the doorway. His sisters-in-law stood just inside, like a gorgeous female version of Mutt and Jeff—six-foot redheaded Docia and five-foot-two brunette Janie.

Daisy twisted in Docia’s arms, black curls dancing wildly around her bright pink cheeks, and wearing a smile that made his heart crack in two every time he saw it.

He pushed himself to his feet, setting his half-finished beer on the table, and strode toward the door. “Hang on, sweetheart. Daddy’s on his way.”

Jessamyn Carroll gave the living room at the Lone Oak Bed and Breakfast a quick once-over before she placed Jack in his portable playpen. At least the people who’d just checked out hadn’t been pigs. Sometimes Jess wondered what the hell the guests had been up to that made the place such a mess. Sometimes she could see only too well what they’d been up to and really didn’t like thinking about it.

Jack cooed happily, reaching for his favorite plastic blocks. Based on past experience, Jess figured it would take him at least ten minutes to throw them all out of the playpen. By then she could probably have the dishes rinsed and in the dishwasher.

She grabbed a trash bag, shaking it open as she tossed in a couple of half-empty bags of chips. Too bad the guests never seemed to be into healthy stuff. She swore if they ever left some flatbread or granola bars, she’d take them home for dinner.

Behind her she heard a block hit the floor as Jack crowed. Right. Five more to go. The dishes were piled in the sink—not too many for once. She scraped some calcified cheese into the garbage disposal and ran water to soak the silverware. The coffeepot still had grounds in it. Too bad she hadn’t had time to start a compost heap yet.

Two more blocks flew over the side of the playpen. Jack was getting ambitious, doing more than one at a time.

“Slow down, mister,” Jess called over her shoulder. Jack crowed back.

She grabbed the box of dishwasher detergent and filled the dispenser. Everything was loaded now except the silverware. Another plop sounded behind her.

Please, Jack, please just let me finish this.Jess rubbed the remains of the cheese and something orange and sticky off the knives, tossing them into the dishwasher as she went.

One more plop. One more crow.

She pushed the dishwasher door closed, flipping the catch and turning the knob. The sound of water rushing into the washer mingled with Jack’s discontented squawks.

“Okay,” she muttered, “okay. If you didn’t throw them out, you’d still have them, though.”

He squawked louder, and she knelt beside the playpen, picking up the blocks. “Good arm, kid, you tossed those a good two feet this time.”

He gave her a beatific baby grin, revealing three tiny, pearl-like teeth.

“Ah, that’s Mama’s boy,” she murmured, burying her nose in his neck as she leaned in to hug him. Sweet powder, sour milk—essence of baby. Her heart contracted.

Jack squealed in delight, grabbing handfuls of her hair.

“Ouch.” She pulled his hands away gently, then reached into the toy bag. “How about some time with Mr. Wiggles?”

Jack threw his arms around the terry-cloth rabbit, then overbalanced in the other direction, landing flat on his back. For a moment he lay wide-eyed, staring up at her.

“No, it’s okay,” she cautioned. “You’re fine. You’re just startled. Don’t shriek, okay?”

But his chest was already expanding, his face flushed, as he let loose the first wail.

Jess reached down and gathered him into her arms, rubbing a hand across his back. “Hey, kid, you need to learn to roll with those punches. How are you ever going to be a captain of industry if you cry whenever you land on your ass?”

He wailed a few more times as she bounced him on her shoulder, then subsided into hiccups.

“Attaboy,” she whispered. “Just let it go.” She felt him relax in her arms, halfway to sleep. “C’mon, Jack,” she crooned. “Just let Mama finish up here, and we’ll head back home, okay?”

A few moments later, she laid him down in the playpen again, dropping a flannel blanket over his tummy as he slept.

Thirty minutes. Maybe. But no running the vacuum sweeper until he woke up. Jess headed for the bedroom to strip off the sheets. She could do the bathrooms fast if nobody had done anything really gross.

Fifteen minutes later, sheets and towels loaded into the washer and clean ones draped over her arm, she headed back into the living room to check on Jack. He still slept, one fist tucked against his cheek.

She stood in the doorway, staring at him. Jack. Her Jack. As pigheaded as she was. As ready to yell for his own way. Maybe as ready to stand up for himself in a few years. But not yet. Not now. Now he needed her to do the standing up, and the protecting.

Which meant finding yet another way to put food on the table. Managing the Lone Oak Bed and Breakfast at least gave them a place to stay, but she couldn’t bring Jack up on a diet of croissants and orange juice, even if they came with the job. And he was already growing out of the sets of onesies she’d brought with her. Even at Costco prices, a new baby wardrobe would stretch her budget.

Tomorrow she’d take another look at the Tribune-Zeitung . Maybe they’d have something other than waiting tables or data entry, preferably something she could do from home and under the radar, like her work on the gaming sites.

“Goddamn it, Barry,” she whispered, “why couldn’t you have held on for just a few more years?”

Lydia Moreland picked up her cell phone on the second ring. The phone did ring, just like a regular phone. She had, in fact, demanded that it ring like a regular phone. She despised phones that tinkled out tinny versions of classical music.

“Yes,” she snapped.

“Mrs. Moreland, it’s Charles Hampton.” Hampton always sounded like he was speaking in a hall with an echo, probably a holdover from addressing all those courtrooms.

“Yes, what is it?” She straightened a sheet of paper on her otherwise-immaculate desk.

“I just wanted to give you a progress report on our efforts to locate your…daughter-in-law.”

The pause was small, but enough to bring a wintry smile to Lydia’s lips. “Barrett’s widow. The marriage was legal, Charles. We did have it checked, remember?”

“Of course.” Hampton cleared his throat before continuing. “Yes, well, we’ve confirmed that she left the state, probably six weeks ago.”

“Probably?” She raised an eyebrow. If he were standing in front of her, she’d have narrowed her eyes at him. As it was, she made do with tone of voice.

“The exact date is a little hazy, but yes. The place where she was staying has been vacant for around that length of time.”

Lydia leaned back in her chair, rolling her Montblanc ballpoint between her fingers. “And where is she now?”

“We think Texas. She mentioned Texas to friends. Before…that is, while she was still working.”

Lydia closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. Raising one’s voice was not only unladylike, it also got one nowhere with the Charles Hamptons of the world. And it showed weakness. She settled for letting her tone slide into acid. “Texas is a big place, I understand. Do you have a more exact location than that?”

“Not yet. We’re working on some leads, however.”

“Why is this so difficult, Charles? I assume you’re using private investigators. Surely, locating missing persons is fairly routine.”

“Not if they don’t want to be located. Your daughter-in-law has stopped using her credit cards. She hasn’t called anyone in Belle View since she left, nor has she sent letters. The cell phone number we have for her is no longer active, and we haven’t located a new one. She left no forwarding address with the landlord, and she paid all her bills before leaving. In cash.”

Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose. “I assume she closed out the bank accounts?”

“Yes. Both her checking and savings. And she demanded the entire amount in cash. She refused a cashier’s check.”

“There can’t have been much.” She picked up her pen again. “The house wasn’t hers. And her severance package was supposedly quite small.” In fact, Lydia had made sure that it was quite small.

“Yes, well.” Hampton cleared his throat again. “There was the bequest from Barrett.”

She stared down at the pen between her fingers for a moment, fighting the quick rush of anger. Never show emotion with an underling. One of her father’s guiding principles. “I understood that had been blocked.”

“Not all of it.” He sounded uncomfortable. “Your son left her his personal fortune in addition to his share of the corporation. We couldn’t sequester all of his money.”

“Barrett’s personal fortune.” The words had a bitter taste. Her lips twisted. “Not a great deal of that, was there?”

“That lawyer of his managed to find some for her.”

Lydia couldn’t resist. “You’re saying that Barrett’s storefront lawyer was better at his job than you are?”

She fancied she heard a quick intake of breath on the other end of the line. “We did what we could, Mrs. Moreland. We did manage to protect the majority of the money.”

She sighed. Amusing though it was to bait Hampton, it wasn’t accomplishing her purpose. “The woman did some kind of work with computers, as I recall. She’ll have to find a job to support herself and the child. Approach her that way.”

“We’ve thought of that,” he explained. “We have people watching the chat rooms where she was a member, and we’ve posted job listings at the online employment sites. So far she hasn’t shown.”

“There must be something more you can do.”

This time Hampton sounded more annoyed than defensive. “We’re doing all we can, Mrs. Moreland. However, your daughter-in-law hasn’t done anything illegal, and she doesn’t want to be found. That makes it difficult.”

That makes it difficult if you believe she has any rights in the matter.Lydia rolled her hand into a fist, keeping her voice level. “Very well, Charles. You’ll keep me posted.”

“Of course, Mrs. Moreland.”

Hampton disconnected. She could imagine his relieved expression.

She sat staring at the cell phone in her hand. Barrett’s bitch of a wife hadn’t done anything illegal because the law simply didn’t recognize the facts of this situation. She’d taken a Moreland grandchild, the only grandson, Barrett’s heir, and run away. That might not be illegal, but it was enough to make her a criminal in Lydia’s eyes.

Charles Hampton obviously was not the best person to find Barrett’s slut. In fact, he wouldn’t find her, not using his current methods. He’d give Lydia some claptrap about the woman’s rights and the child’s rights and nothing at all about the real rights, the Moreland rights.

Her rights.

Obviously, she needed to use someone else. Someone who’d know what to do after the woman had been located. Someone who’d make sure that she didn’t keep a Moreland child from being raised as a Moreland. Lydia needed someone who’d make sure things worked the way they were supposed to. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out her black Moreland Enterprises directory. Roy Westerman was still listed under the security division.

Her son Preston had expressed doubts about Roy’s methods in the past, but Lydia had managed to keep him on the payroll. It was always useful to have someone with the right contacts. Roy Westerman might not be able to do what she wanted himself, but he’d know someone else who could.

Her hand tightened on the phone as she punched in Roy’s number, then waited for the connection to go through. Westerman’s “Hello” was suitably brusque.

“Hello, Roy,” she purred, “it’s Lydia Moreland. I’m looking for a contractor. One with some particular skills. Perhaps we could discuss it over lunch.”

Chapter Two

Jess skimmed through the ad again, trying to convince herself that this job was a good idea. Caregiver for two-year-old, 8-5, in my home or yours. Salary negotiable. References required. Contact L. Toleffson, 210.555.3222

“Short and not particularly sweet,” she muttered. Jack glanced up from his high chair, clearly more interested in the bowl of rice cereal she was cradling in her hand.

“How about it, Jack?” She scooped up a quick spoonful. “Want to share our space with some two-year-old terror?”

Jack blew a bubble of cereal and made a mildly distressed sound.

“I’m not crazy about the negotiable salary part.” She wiped a smear off his cheek and tried inserting another bite. “No way am I haggling over this.”

Jack pushed most of the bite out again with his tongue, then beat his palms against the high chair tray, his expression mildly mutinous, at least for a nine-month-old.

“Come on, kid,” Jess murmured. “Just a couple more bites and we’ll call it breakfast. Mom isn’t providing the whole diet anymore.” She shoveled in another bite, scraping excess from his lower lip. “Just swallow a little more now.”

Some of the cereal made it down his throat, but a significant amount reappeared immediately.

She sighed. “Okay, you win. But the Mommy lunch counter won’t be open again for another couple of hours.”

Jack grinned at her beatifically while she did her best not to grin back. Wouldn’t that be reinforcing him? Probably. On the other hand, not grinning back at him was well nigh impossible.

“Oh, man, have you ever got my number,” she murmured, removing his bib and wiping cereal off his face with a washcloth.

Jack chuckled at her, clearly delighted to have his fingers wiped.

“Okay, we’ll go talk to this person.” She unhooked the high chair tray and lifted her son into her arms, trying not to get the remains of his cereal on her shirt. “You get a ride in the backpack, after we’ve cleaned you up a little more and I’ve given L. Toleffson a call. If she doesn’t turn tail and run the minute she sees you, we’ll consider her offer, assuming we like her.”

Jack grabbed a handful of her hair in enthusiastic agreement, smearing a bit of leftover rice cereal on her forehead. Jess grimaced, wondering if she had time for a quick shampoo before they went into town.

Lars glanced at his watch. The woman had said she’d be at his office at ten, which had been fine at the time, but then a couple of his clients, owners of a new hotel complex on B Street, had requested a consult. They wanted him there at ten-thirty. If his potential babysitter was late, he’d be late. And it would be his own fault because he should have told the hotel people he couldn’t make it until eleven.

He blew out a quick breath. Except that they were new clients, with a potential for a good commission, and he needed them. The hotel manager had wanted him to drop by at five originally, but he had to get Daisy then, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t be welcome at a business meeting. Particularly not since the manager had already given him a couple of thinly veiled come-ons. Either she’d heard he wasn’t married or didn’t care if he was, but he doubted she knew he was raising a two-year-old daughter. She hadn’t looked much like the nurturing type, considering the four-inch heels and the mid-thigh-length skirt.

The bell on the outer office door jingled, and Lars pushed back from his desk. His receptionist, Mrs. Suarez, was on a coffee break.

He stepped into the waiting room as the woman at the door muttered something. She wore a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, and she seemed oddly hunched. For a moment, he wondered if she was a homeless person who’d wandered in to escape the slight autumn chill outside.

“Can I help you?” he said, a little more briskly than usual.

The woman turned, and he immediately understood both the hunch and the muttering. She held a baby in a backpack in front of her. “Mr. Toleffson?” She straightened slightly. “I’m Jessamyn Carroll. We spoke on the phone.”

“Oh.” Lars did a quick memory search. “I didn’t know you had…that is, did you mention…”

“This is my son, Jack.” Jessamyn Carroll pushed the baby’s hat off and he bounced up, bracing his feet against the backpack frame.

He took a breath. Not necessarily a deal-breaker. “How old?”

“Nine months.”

“Any more at home?” He tried to make the question sound friendly. Multiple children didn’t necessarily mean she wouldn’t be able to take care of Daisy. On the other hand, the more kids around, the more possibilities that Daisy might lead an infant insurrection.

“Nope. Jack’s it.” She watched him carefully, probably waiting for him to tell her she couldn’t have the job because of the baby. Little did she know just how desperate he was.

“Come on in.” He gestured toward the office. “Let’s talk about this sitting down. He looks like a handful.”

“Handful, armful, you name it.” Ms. Carroll grinned as she stepped through the office door.

Lars felt a quick surge of warmth somewhere around his solar plexus. She had a killer smile, complete with dimples. Not, of course, that he was in any position to do anything about it—or wanted to. These days, he only had enough energy for Daisy and the office.

She set the pack down before he could step forward to help her, opening the frame to prop it up, then lifted the baby into her lap and flipped back her hood. Her short feathery hair glowed like old gold in the sunlight streaming through the office window.

The heat in his solar plexus increased. He willed his nether regions to knock it off as he slid into his desk chair. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a hard-on. “Okay, Ms. Carroll, I’m looking for someone to take care of my daughter, Daisy. She’s two and a half. Do you have any child care experience?”

“Just Jack.” Ms. Carroll handed the baby a ring of oversized plastic keys. “I’m home with him all day, and I figure I can look after two as easily as one.”

Lars frowned slightly. “Daisy’s very active.”

“So’s Jack. But at least he’s not entirely mobile yet.”

She grinned at him again, the kind of sunshine smile that made the room seem slightly warmer. Parts of the room, anyway. He gritted his teeth, reining himself in. You’d think he’d have learned by now that physical attraction was no indication of character. “Is your husband home during the day?”

Ms. Carroll’s smile dimmed slightly, as if he’d hit a nerve. “I’m a widow.”

Right. Well, he couldn’t afford to be choosy, and women had babies on their own for all kinds of reasons. “Would you be able to look after her at my house?”

Ms. Carroll’s grin diminished to slightly upturned corners. “No. I’m the manager at the Lone Oak Bed and Breakfast, and I need to be there during the day. But she’d have lots of room to play. There’s a swing set and a small slide in the back yard.”

“You’re managing a bed and breakfast, but you’d have time to look after a two-year-old along with that?”

Ms. Carroll’s grin was gone altogether now. “Look, Mr. Toleffson, managing the B and B means cleaning the house when it’s vacant and putting out the breakfast when we have guests. And checking the online reservation requests. It’s not like running a hotel.”

“And you live there, too?”

She nodded. “There are two cabins. I live in the smaller one.”

He took a deep breath, trying to decide if he really heard alarm bells or if he was being an idiot. He sort of remembered the Lone Oak—a lavish log cabin on Lone Dog Creek, lots of live oaks, some plaster deer lawn ornaments that Daisy always squealed over. The creek was pretty close, and Daisy had a thing about water. On the other hand, at this point, the alternative was Wee Care. “Do you have any references?”

She nodded again. “Mrs. Carmody, the woman who owns the Lone Oak, can vouch for me. She’s out of town right now, but I have her e-mail address. She’s the only one I’ve worked for down here.”

He felt another prickle of doubt. “How long have you been in Konigsburg?”

“Three months.” She stared back at him, her face a polite mask.

More references would be helpful. On the other hand, one local was probably as good as he could get at this point. “Okay, maybe we can give this a try. A month or so, and then we can see how everybody feels about it.”

“Terrific, Mr. Toleffson.” Her voice was dry. “But before we shake on it, maybe you could tell me what the salary is.”

Lars closed his eyes. Salary . How could he have forgotten salary? He was an accountant, for the love of heaven. He really was losing his mind. “Yes,” he muttered, “by all means, let’s talk about that.”

Jess put Jack into his jumper seat, listening to him crow as he danced back and forth in the doorway to the living room. She slid into the chair at her computer and fired up the Paloma Gaming site. The e-mail from the site owner said that the win-loss ratings kept going flaky. Jess opened her console window and began checking code. The jumper seat usually kept Jack occupied for twenty minutes or so. With any luck she’d find the bug in less time than that.

The encounter with Lars Toleffson still rankled. Obviously, he was looking for June Cleaver. Obviously, as far as he was concerned, she was closer to Britney Spears. Tough. She’d do a good job with his daughter, no matter what he thought of her.

Toleffson wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. Weren’t accountants supposed to be wimpy? He was at least six four or five, given the way he towered over her five-foot-ten. And his shoulders were broad enough to block the light from the office window when he leaned back. He’d worn a predictable gray business suit, but his dark hair had the kind of curls that never stayed put, inching down slightly over his forehead.

The type of guy who probably made female hearts go pitter-pat, if one were susceptible to that kind of thing. Which Jess definitely was not.

She wondered briefly what had happened to Mrs. Toleffson. Probably a divorce, given the lack of sympathy he’d shown when she’d mentioned Barry. Not that she wanted sympathy. But why didn’t people ask single fathers where their significant other had gone the way they asked single mothers?

Jack gave a shriek of delight and Jess turned to look at him. He danced across the doorway on his tiptoes, bouncing up and down enthusiastically.

She remembered when she’d brought him home from the hospital. Small and wrinkled and rosy. Totally vulnerable. Totally dependent. Hers to protect. And love.

She bit her lip. “Oh, lord, Jack, don’t grow up too fast, okay? Let me savor this just a little.”

Jack grinned up at her and did a baby plié. Jess closed her eyes a moment, willing herself not to tear up, then turned back to the monitor. “Okay, time for Mommy to earn us some bread, kiddo. You just keep working on those dance moves so you’ll be ready for your big break when you decide to keep me in style.”

Assuming I can keep you to myself that long.Jess shivered, then concentrated on her screen. Maybe Lydia Moreland had just walked across her grave.

Roy Westerman watched the Ice Queen pour another cup of post-lunch coffee. Of course she knew he’d prefer something stronger, but of course she wouldn’t give it to him. Probably didn’t drink with underlings. Either that or she wanted him sharp for this conversation, which was a more unsettling possibility.

Roy wasn’t sure exactly how old Lydia Moreland was. He’d guess she was in her sixties, but the work she’d had done on her face, plus the exercise she put in to keep her figure in check, made it hard to know exactly.

Now she raised her gaze over the rim of her porcelain coffee cup. She reminded him a little of a water moccasin he’d stumbled across once down on the Delaware—that same steady, ice-cold gaze. He’d killed the snake before it struck, but he wouldn’t get that chance if the same situation ever arose with the Ice Queen.

“Well, Roy, it seems we have a bit of a problem on our hands.” Even her voice sounded like it was frosted over.

“What problem is that, Mrs. Moreland?”

The Ice Queen set her cup carefully back on its matching saucer. “Barrett’s wife. She took off with my grandson. Charles Hampton isn’t having any luck in finding her.”

Roy managed to keep his expression bland. “I hadn’t realized Mr. Moreland had married.” Let alone had a kid. Interesting .

“He didn’t invite the family to the wedding.”

Right. He could definitely see Barrett Moreland’s point. Having the Ice Queen at your wedding would tend to put a damper on the celebration, particularly if she wasn’t happy about the bride.

“How old is the child?” He pulled out his notebook, ignoring the Ice Queen’s sudden frown. He needed a record of whatever details she deigned to give him.

“Less than a year.” She shrugged. “I can’t tell you exactly. We didn’t know she was pregnant until Preston saw her at the funeral. You did know about Barrett’s death, I assume?”

Roy nodded. “I understood it was heart disease.”

The Ice Queen’s lips narrowed to a grimace. “It was alcoholism. But I suppose that puts a strain on the heart, doesn’t it?”

He nodded again, noncommittally. The kid, Barrett, had always been the old man’s favorite. The Ice Queen preferred the older brother, Preston. If the old man had lived, the kid might have made it, but Roy had a feeling that having the Ice Queen for a mother could have wrecked anybody. Preston didn’t look all that healthy himself these days.

“So the baby was born after Mr. Moreland’s death?”

“Yes.”

The Ice Queen picked up her cup again, then set it down. Nerves? Hard to believe. More probably excess venom.

“We weren’t informed when the child was born. We only found out after the fact.”

Roy cleared his throat, pretending to write a note. The Ice Queen ignored him.

“We offered her support, of course, but she declined our help. And then she disappeared. We don’t know that much about her, and I’m concerned about the child.”

He blinked, making a couple of careful notes for real this time. Unless he missed his guess, most of what she’d just told him was total bullshit. He’d have to get the full facts later from more reliable sources. “Where was she from? Maybe she’s gone back home again.”

The Ice Queen shook her head. “I haven’t any idea. Somewhere in Texas supposedly. Charles may have found out more as he’s been looking for her. I’ll get a copy of his report and send it to you.” Her mouth narrowed to a thin line. “Barrett met her in a bar, if that tells you anything.”

It didn’t tell him much. Given where Barrett Moreland spent most of his time, it wasn’t much of a surprise. “So you want me to see if I can track her down for you?”

The Ice Queen shook her head. “I don’t want anyone directly connected to Moreland Enterprises to look for her, other than Charles, of course. She’s covered her tracks quite well, apparently. I’m afraid she might run away again if she knows we’ve found her. And I’d prefer that we not be directly…involved in the search.”

The hairs on the back of Roy’s neck did a quick dance. Something was way off here, but it was in his best interests not to find out exactly what it was. He’d rather stick with the Ice Queen’s fabricated story than dig too far beneath the surface and find out something he’d be better off not knowing. He’d get paid either way, and someone else could do the dirty work. “You want me to have someone else do the looking?”

She nodded. “Yes. Someone not associated with us. But someone who can do a more thorough job than Charles.”

“A contractor, like you said.”

The Ice Queen smiled, slowly. “Yes, exactly. A contractor. Do you know someone who might be…appropriate?”

“I know a couple of people.” He shrugged. “I can get in touch with them and see if they’re available.”

“Excellent.” The Ice Queen reminded him vaguely of Mr. Burns on The Simpsons for a moment, particularly when she smiled again. “Have them get in touch with me directly. I’ll give you the number. That way you won’t have to concern yourself with the details. I’ll make sure your bonus reflects the help you’ve provided.”

Roy breathed a silent sigh of relief. This was one operation he definitely didn’t want to be in on directly. He’d be delighted to turn it over to somebody else, preferably somebody several steps removed from him. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Excellent,” the Ice Queen repeated. “I appreciate your help on this, Roy. We need to find this woman. More importantly, we need to find my grandson.”

Her smile chilled him to the bone. Roy decided to head to the nearest bar for a quick warm-up before he did anything else.

At one, Lars wandered over to Sweet Thing, Allie Maldonado’s bakery and café. He figured one or more of his brothers ought to be around, and if not them, Wonder Dentist since he was Allie’s Significant Other. Why his nickname was Wonder Dentist had always been a mystery to Lars, particularly since his real name was Steve Kleinschmidt. Wonder could be sort of annoying, but he definitely qualified as a distraction. And distraction was what he needed after deflecting another round of veiled passes from the hotel owner during the morning.

He wondered briefly if he’d have been interested in the woman if he hadn’t spent those years married to Sherice. Maybe. Before Sherice he’d been dumb enough to let his dick do his thinking on occasion.

Wonder was ensconced at a table on Allie’s patio in spite of the distinct nip in the air. Sitting outside in mid-November wouldn’t have been a possibility back in West Des Moines, but in Konigsburg, cool weather seemed to mean temperatures in the high fifties. Some Konigsburgers reacted by joyously pulling on sweaters, while others ignored it on the assumption that the hot weather would be back in a couple of weeks. Apparently, Wonder fell into the latter group.

Lars slid into an Adirondack chair opposite him. “What do you recommend for lunch?”

“Well, you can go with the Winter Wonderlanders and have cream of mushroom soup and a hot sandwich to top it off, or you can join the rest of us in Reality Land and have your usual.”

“I don’t have a usual.” Lars leaned back, spreading his napkin in his lap. “Just because I’m an accountant, that doesn’t mean I’m predictable.”

“Hi, Lars.” Allie stepped into the open doorway, brushing her hands against her chili-pepper-adorned chef’s pants. “Roast turkey on whole wheat, cole slaw on the side, right?”

“I rest my case,” Wonder muttered.

Lars narrowed his eyes. “How’s the ham?”

“Same as always.” Allie grinned. “Not that exciting, though. How about if I bring you the chicken salad? That’d be a change.”

Lars frowned. As a rule he didn’t like chicken salad. On the other hand, he hated falling into a stereotype. “Fine.”

Wonder slurped up a spoonful of whatever soup he was having. “Your problem, Toleffson, is that you’re resisting the whole accountant thing. Why not revel in your predictability?”

“Because I’m not sure how much I enjoy being one of your walking punchlines.” Lars leaned back in his chair as the sunlight warmed his face. If this constituted winter, he figured he could give his earmuffs to Goodwill.

“So how goes the search for the babysitter? Anything new on the ankle-biter front?” Wonder took a large bite of his sandwich, using his napkin to wipe off a stray bit of mayonnaise at the corner of his mouth.

“Do not refer to my niece as an ankle-biter. She’s way beyond that.” Cal slid into a chair beside Wonder. “As I recall, she nibbled on at least three of your fingers the last time you looked at her teeth.”

“Don’t remind me,” Wonder grumbled. “I don’t usually do kids under five. My fingers still tingle when I hear her name.”

Lars shrugged. “I’ll feed her before I bring her in next time. Still, if somebody sticks their fingers in your mouth, there’s always this temptation to bite them.”

Wonder gazed at him through narrowed eyes. “You bite my fingers, and you’ll be doing my books for free for the next decade, so help me.”

Allie stepped through the door carrying a plate with a sandwich. “Getting back to the more interesting topic, how’s the babysitter search coming?” She set the plate in front of Lars, along with a glass of tea. “Here you go. I didn’t have time to come up with something more interesting for you to drink. Maybe next time.”

“Maybe.” Lars studied the chicken salad, checking for pineapple or grapes. He didn’t see any—so far, so good. “I may have found somebody. She’s a single mom with a baby, so she can take care of Daisy while she takes care of her son.”

“What’s her name?” Pete dropped into the chair beside him.

Lars had to think for a moment. He really needed more sleep. “Jessamyn Carroll.”

Three faces stared at him blankly. Four, if you counted Allie.

Wonder shook his head. “Never heard of her.”

“Me neither.” Allie’s forehead was furrowed. “Where does she live?”

“She manages the Lone Oak B and B.”

His brothers and Wonder still looked blank.

Allie’s forehead smoothed marginally. “Okay, I think I’ve seen a woman out there. I just didn’t know her name.”

Pete narrowed his eyes. “You get her references?”

“Yes. It’s fine.” Lars set his glass down with a click. Pete was only a couple of years older but he sometimes behaved as if they were dog years. “We’re going to give it a try for a month, see how it works out.”

Allie was smiling again. “It sounds win-win to me, Lars. She gets to stay home with her son and you get someone who’s got the time to look after Daisy.”

Right. Lars decided not to mention his own concerns about the amount of time Jessamyn Carroll would have to do that. For better or worse he was committed.

He took a bite of chicken salad. Not bad. Not bad at all. But he liked the turkey better.

Chapter Three

Daisy Toleffson didn’t strike Jess as a charming child. Nor, at this particular moment, was she a happy one. She stood in Jess’s living room, surveying the furniture with the look of an unimpressed customer. Her lower lip was pushed forward, and her arms were crossed over her chest. She glared up at her father.

He appeared not to notice. Or at least he pretended he didn’t. Jess could see a certain tension in Lars Toleffson’s jaw. His fine, squarish jaw.

“Daisy, this is Mrs. Carroll. You’ll be staying with her and her son Jack today.” Toleffson’s voice was firm, but not too cheery. He probably knew what was coming.

“No,” Daisy snapped. Her lower lip jutted forward even further.

Jess tried a smile in Daisy’s direction and was rewarded with a fierce scowl. “Have you had breakfast, Daisy? Want some oatmeal with Jack?”

“No! Want Mrs. M.!” Daisy looked up her father again, her eyes suddenly pooling with picturesque tears.

Jess had to hand it to her—being able to cry on cue was a very neat trick. Clearly the kid was an infant Meryl Streep.

And clearly her father wasn’t immune, even though he had to know his daughter’s tears weren’t exactly genuine. He knelt down to eye level with her. “Daisy, we’ve talked about this. Mrs. Melendez is moving away from Konigsburg. You can’t stay with her anymore.”

“Want Mrs. M.!” Daisy’s voice rose a couple of decibels.

In his high chair, Jack stared at her, his forehead creasing.

“Want her now !” Daisy’s lower lip was trembling. She appeared to be on the verge of a spectacular meltdown.

Jack began to whimper, staring up at Jess in distress. She wasn’t sure if it was Daisy’s noise or her unhappiness that was getting to him. Given his tendency to sympathize with everybody in range, she’d guess the latter. She reached down quickly, moving his bowl of oatmeal to the dining room table and picking him up out of the chair before he could let loose with anything worse. The last thing they needed was two screaming children.

When she turned back, Daisy was staring at Jack, her mouth open in mid-wail.

Jack looked down and smiled, his own mouth spreading in one of his joyful grins as he reached toward Daisy’s hair. Like her father’s, Daisy’s curls spilled around her face in a corona. Jack’s fingers fastened on one dark spiral, and he giggled.

Daisy leaped back, her expression changing from misery to outrage. “He pulled!” she sputtered.

“Sorry. He likes hair.” Jess shifted Jack onto her other shoulder so that he was a little out of range. “I’m sure he likes yours a lot because it’s so pretty.”

Daisy stood transfixed, her hand on the curl that Jack had touched, her eyes wide. “Pretty?”

“Very.” Jess managed to keep her voice matter-of-fact. “It’s so curly and dark and soft. He’s probably never seen anything like it before.”

“Pretty.” Daisy stroked her hair again, thoughtfully. Jess had a feeling she was experiencing a paradigm shift.

Lars Toleffson cleared his throat. “Yes. Well, I’ll take off. See you this evening, Dais.” He stepped through the door quickly, closing it behind him. His daughter seemed barely aware of his absence. Smart man.

“Pretty,” Daisy repeated once more, and her lips spread in what would someday be a killer smile.

Jess sighed. “Welcome to the sisterhood, kid.”

All morning long Lars waited for the phone to ring with Jessamyn Carroll telling him to come get his daughter.

It wasn’t that Daisy was stubborn, exactly. He sighed. Who was he kidding? Daisy was the most stubborn kid he’d ever met. Daisy made Genghis Khan look reasonable.

It was a trait she’d inherited from her mother. Yet another thing for him to worry about. Considering that Sherice had only been around Daisy for her first year, Lars really hoped she hadn’t had a chance to imprint much of her character on their daughter, but every once in a while he saw Sherice in something Daisy did.

Like this morning when his daughter suddenly began to look like an infant femme fatale. Lars shuddered. He really didn’t want to think about what it would be like when Daisy hit high school and boys started coming around the house. He’d probably have to put up razor wire or something.

When his office phone finally rang, he picked it up without looking to see who was calling, figuring it was probably the Jessamyn Carroll call he’d been dreading all morning. “Lars Toleffson,” he barked.

“If you talk to all your customers like that, no wonder you aren’t making any money,” his ex-wife purred on the other end of the line.

Lars gritted his teeth. He’d been avoiding Sherice’s calls for a couple of days, figuring anything she wanted to talk about could be handled by his lawyer with a lot less pain. “What do you want, Sherice?”

“Did you see the final price on the house? It’s about fifty grand less than you said it would be.”

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Read the papers lately, Sherice? The market sucks all across the country right now. Your lawyer cleared the deal. It was the best offer we could get.”

“It still leaves me with a lot less money than I was supposed to have.”

Sherice’s voice had a slightly metallic edge. He wondered if she’d always sounded like that—had he just been too overcome with lust to notice until now? He had a sudden memory of Sherice in a bikini, shimmering blonde hair above improbable breasts. Lust had a way of making you brain dead. It sure as hell had with him.

With an effort, he kept his voice level. “By the terms of the settlement you got a percentage of the sale price, not a fixed amount. Nobody promised you a particular payoff.”

“Whatever happened to ‘Just take it all and give me Daisy’, Lars? Our deal was that I got the assets and you got the kid.” Sherice didn’t bother with sounding amused anymore. Her voice could freeze boiling oil.

“You did get the assets,” he snapped. “Most of them. I got enough to set up a business so that I could support Daisy. I’m not renegotiating, Sherice. I need everything I’ve got to keep us going down here.”

“I could always go back to court,” she mused. “Judges like for kids to be with their mothers. Are you ready to give up custody, Lars?”

He eased the phone into his other hand, flexing the fingers that had been holding it in a death grip. “Yeah, and I could request you pay child support. Before you start figuring out how big your pay-out would be, consider what you might lose too.”

“I won’t lose, Lars.” Her voice dropped an octave. “I don’t lose. You keep that in mind.”

He sat staring at the receiver in his hand, hearing the click of Sherice’s disconnect. His shoulders were clenched so tightly his neck felt stiff. His stomach was roiling with acid. This was what happened when you let your brain fog over with testosterone. When you let your dick rule your life. The ex-wife from South Hell.

And Daisy. Lars blew out a breath. Never forget Daisy . No matter what else Sherice had done, she’d managed to produce his daughter. And now he had to protect her from her mother.

So be it. If he had to go to South Hell to hang onto Daisy, he’d do it. With bells on.

The first crisis came at mid-morning. Daisy didn’t like animal crackers. She wanted Cheerios, like Jack. Jack wanted animal crackers, like Daisy. Jess gave them a selection of each, then watched as Daisy surreptitiously relieved Jack of his Cheerios, while pushing a load of animal crackers his way. Well, at least she wasn’t exactly taking candy from a baby—cereal probably didn’t count.

The second crisis came when Jess wanted to get some work done on the computer. Daisy didn’t want to color. She didn’t want to play with blocks. On the other hand, she had a major interest in Jack’s collection of stuffed animals, particularly Mr. Wiggles. Jess held her breath, but Jack, hopelessly in love with Daisy, let her arrange the animals in a heap in front of him. Daisy proceeded to make up an elaborate narrative that featured a series of highly improbable adventures for Mr. Wiggles and his close personal friend the lavender bear, a.k.a. Spiderman.

Jess found three bugs in the Web app she was putting together for Synchronicity. Fortunately, it wasn’t due for another week. She wondered idly what would happen if she turned Daisy loose on the video games front. Maybe they could convert Mr. Wiggles into an action hero. Lord knew, Daisy was active enough for both of them.

At lunch, Daisy studied the chicken with rice soup suspiciously. “Is this fish?”

“Nope.” Jess shoveled a quick spoonful of minced turkey into Jack’s mouth. “It’s chicken. So help me.”

“I don’t like fish.” Daisy’s lower lip jutted out again.

“You objection is noted. But that’s not fish, it’s chicken.”

“Mrs. M. gives me tuna.” Daisy looked doleful. “I don’t like tuna.”

“No tuna here. It’s chicken.” Jess was beginning to feel slightly desperate. “Maybe you can’t handle that spoon by yourself. Would you like me to help you?”

“I can do it myself!” Daisy gave her an outraged look, then jammed a spoonful of soup in her mouth. After a moment’s pause to evaluate it, she swallowed and dipped her spoon again.

Jess grabbed a bite of her own soup, then gave Jack another spoonful of his turkey.

“I’m gonna marry Jack,” Daisy announced.

Jess raised an eyebrow at her as she managed another bite of soup. “Are you?”

Daisy nodded. “When I’m five. He’s too little now.”

“Yes.” Jess wiped Jack’s mouth quickly. “Very high maintenance.”

Daisy’s brow furrowed. “What’s high main’nance?”

“A lot of work,” Jess explained. “He can’t take care of himself very well yet.”

“I take care of myself.”

“Yes,” Jess agreed quickly. “You’re a big girl. He’s a baby.”

Daisy shrugged. “He’ll be old when I’m five.”

Jess felt a sudden twinge. Don’t grow up Jack, not yet, not yet. “He’ll be older, anyway.”

The next crisis came after lunch, but Jess was ready for this one.

“I don’t take naps,” Daisy snapped, pushing her lower lip forward again. “I’m too big.”

Jess shook her head. “That’s too bad. I was going to give you the bower. I guess I’ll have to give it to Jack instead.”

Daisy narrowed her eyes. “What’s a bow-wow?”

Jess pointed toward the window alcove she’d equipped with a stack of lace-covered pillows and a woven throw from the guest cabin. “Over there. It even has a drawbridge you can pull up.” The baby fence she used to keep Jack away from the window leaned against the wall next to the pillows.

Daisy stared at the alcove, blinking, then turned back to Jess. “I’ll try. Can I take those?” She pointed at the stack of Jack’s picture books.

Jess nodded. “Sure. But I need to get Jack ready for his nap. It would go faster if I had some help. Do you think you’d be able to do that?”

Daisy’s eyes narrowed in disdain. “Course I can. He’s a baby.”

“Yes, he is,” Jess agreed, settling into the rocking chair in Jack’s room. “Why don’t you pick out a book for us to read while I give him the rest of his lunch?” She pushed her T-shirt up and began unfastening the nursing bra.

Daisy stared at her wide-eyed.

Well, crap.“I’m going to nurse Jack, Daisy. Do you know what that means?”

Daisy shook her head, totally silent for the first time all day.

“It means he’s still getting part of his food from me. That’s what mothers do for babies until they’re older.” She angled Jack’s head into the crook of her elbow as he fastened enthusiastically onto her nipple.

Daisy was still staring. “Did my mama do that for me?”

“Probably,” Jess hedged. “It’s good for babies. Did you find a book?”

Daisy nodded, handing Jess a large picture book she’d pulled from the stack.

“Okay.” Jess extended the arm not holding Jack and helped Daisy clamber into her lap. “You’ll need to turn the pages, but you can do that, can’t you?”

“I can do that.” Daisy nodded. “I’m a big girl. And Jack’s a baby.”

“I know.” Jess sighed. “Believe me, I know.”

The call came in late afternoon. Lydia was unsurprised. Roy Westerman was a weasel, but he was her weasel. She knew he’d find someone, particularly since he’d have a commission on whatever his contractor was paid.

She clicked the connect button on the cell phone she’d purchased just for this particular caller, then flicked the lock on her office door. It wouldn’t do to have someone wander in during this call. Particularly Preston. “Yes?”

“Mrs. Moreland?”

The voice sounded oddly distorted. It took her a moment to realize the contractor was using some voice-disguising device. She was momentarily annoyed but decided to ignore it. “This is Lydia Moreland. To whom am I speaking?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. The thin, metallic voice sounded faintly amused. “If you need a name, you can call me Smith. Or Jones. Or anything else you choose. Any name I gave you would be a convenience, nothing more, Mrs. Moreland.”

Lydia’s jaw tightened. “Very well, Smythe . I assume you’ve spoken with Roy Westerman.”

“I have. I’ve also studied the documents he sent me—the results of your lawyer’s ‘search’.” Smythe’s tone was definitely contemptuous.

“Inadequate, I know.” Lydia settled into the leather chair behind her desk. “That’s why I asked Westerman to find someone like you.”

“Yes,” Smythe murmured. “Keeping things legal does tend to slow a search down. Particularly when the searchee doesn’t want to be found.”

Once again there was a touch of amusement in the odd electronic voice that Lydia found annoying. “Then I assume you can find her more quickly.”

“Certainly,” he purred. “Provided I’m adequately paid for it. The question is, what do you want me to do once I’ve found her?”

“Do?” She frowned. Was he really that dense? “Notify me, of course.”

“Really? And what will you do after that?” Again the note of amusement, mixed this time with a hint of sarcasm.

“That is none of your concern,” she snapped.

“Perhaps not. On the other hand, you might want to think about what you want to do once you’ve located your daughter-in-law. I’d hate to see my efforts go for nothing.” He sounded bored now.

Lydia bit back her immediate retort. She wanted results. Up until now, she hadn’t gotten them. “What are you proposing, Smythe?”

Again, a faint pause. “Is it your daughter-in-law you really want, Mrs. Moreland?”

She stopped to think. “No. I don’t particularly want to see her again. But she has my grandson.”

“Yes. But in fact it’s the child you’re interested in finding, isn’t it? Not the mother.”

“Not the mother,” she echoed.

“So if you could have the child without the mother, wouldn’t that make more sense, Mrs. Moreland?” The electronic voice hummed in her ear, rather like a finely tuned machine.

She ran her tongue across her lips. “Is that a possibility, Smythe?”

“Oh, it’s more than a possibility, Mrs. Moreland,” he murmured. “In fact, I’d say it’s the best solution to your problem, all around.”

“But…” She paused to gather her thoughts. “You’d bring the child to me directly? Unharmed?”

“If that’s what you want.” His voice was brisk. “Of course, it would require more compensation. My expenses would be greater.”

“Of course.” She took a deep breath, considering. “Keep it as a possibility. For now, just find the woman and my grandson. Once that’s done, we’ll proceed from there.”

“All right, Mrs. Moreland. I’ll be in touch.” The click of the disconnect sounded remarkably loud against her ear.

Lydia sat staring at the cell phone in her hand as if she could see “Smythe’s” face through the screen. She wondered idly how far she was prepared to go, but the thought really was idle. In fact, she knew precisely how far she’d take this.

And Smythe would get her there.

Lars arrived at Jessamyn Carroll’s front door promptly at five. He’d been tempted to come early, but he wanted to give her the full day so that she’d know exactly what she was up against. Mrs. Melendez had frequently looked like she’d spent the day chasing a herd of cats when he’d appeared on her doorstep.

Jessamyn Carroll didn’t look appreciably different from the way she’d looked at eight-thirty that morning. Her feathery golden hair framed her face, looking as if she’d run her fingers through it just before answering the door. Her eyes were the color of a stormy sea.

For just a moment, he wondered what she’d look like with makeup, in a dress. Then he ruthlessly pushed that thought into the farthest corner of his mind.

“Oh, hello.” She pushed the hair away from her eyes, bouncing her son on her hip. “Is it five already? I guess we lost track.”

“Daddy!” Daisy yelled, cannon-balling into his knees.

Lars gathered her up and gave her a hug. “Hi, Dais. Did you have a good time?”

Daisy wriggled out of his arms, grabbing his hand on the way down. “C’mon, Daddy, come see the bow-wow.”

“The bow-wow?” He turned back toward Ms. Carroll as Daisy towed him through the living room like a determined tugboat.

“Bower,” she explained, as if he should know exactly what that meant.

Daisy stopped in front of a deep window alcove full of pillows. It was covered in a velvet throw with an angel pattern, probably from Margaret Hastings’ angel shop downtown. “My bow-wow.” She pointed at a pile of pillows and picture books. “I sleep in there.”

“Daisy takes her nap in the bower.” Ms. Carroll shifted her son to her other hip as she gestured at a mesh baby gate. “We raise the drawbridge.”

The baby, Jack, looked up at him, grinning a guileless baby grin. Lars managed not to blink at his mother again. He figured it was best to just go with it. “I guess that keeps her in.”

Daisy gave him a look of pure outrage. “No, Daddy. It keeps everybody out. Just me inside.”

“Daisy decides when it comes down,” Ms. Carroll added. “And then she joins us.”

He nodded. Better than razor wire.

“And we read stories,” Daisy continued. “And I saw Mrs. Carroll’s booby!”

There was a beat of absolute silence in the room except for Jack’s coos. Ms. Carroll’s face turned a very attractive shade of pink, Lars noted. Much better than blusher.

“Okay. Well, time to go home, Dais,” he muttered. “Go get your coat.”

He watched Daisy bounce off down the hall, black curls flying. No wonder Jack had been entranced.

Behind him, Ms. Carroll cleared her throat. “I’m still nursing Jack. That’s what Daisy meant.”

Lars turned back toward her. Her cheeks were still faintly pink, but her forehead was creased. She looked worried. It took him a moment to understand what she was worried about, and then he felt incongruously like laughing. “Right. Look, don’t worry, Ms. Carroll, I figured it was something like that. Daisy is a genius at saying things I really wish she wouldn’t.”

She took a quick breath, then gave him a faint smile. “Maybe you should call me Jess.”

He thought of telling her no, telling her they should keep their interactions strictly business. But instead he found himself saying, “Call me Lars.”

“Okay, Lars.” Her smile widened slightly, just enough to delve those dimples in her cheeks.

Daisy galloped back into the room, trailing her coat behind her. Jack chuckled with delight. “Can we go to the bar with Uncle Pete and Uncle Cal?” Daisy pleaded.

He took a deep breath. “You can’t go into bars, Dais. I told you that.”

“But Uncle Pete and Uncle Cal can. And Auntie Docia and Aunt Janie. Why can’t I?”

He held the jacket for her, deftly inserting one of her arms in a sleeve. “Your uncles and aunts are all big people. When you’re big you can go to a bar.” He closed his eyes briefly. “Or not. That is, you might not want to. That is…”

He glanced up at Jess. Her lips were pressed tight, as if she was trying very hard not to grin. Jack waved his arms desperately at Daisy, whimpering.

“Time to go now, Dais,” Lars repeated, herding her gently toward the door.

“Okay. Bye, Jack. Bye, Mrs. Carroll. See you tomorrow.” Daisy sailed through the door, giving Lars just enough time to aim a distracted grin in Jess’s general direction as he trotted after her.

He grabbed Daisy’s hand before she got too far in front of him. “Slow down, Dais.”

She looked up at him with huge brown eyes, the color of blackstrap molasses. Toleffson eyes. His eyes. Lars felt another of those quick shots to the gut he’d felt ever since he’d picked Daisy up the first time, staring down at the smallish bundle in the receiving blanket the nurse had handed him.

“Daddy,” she murmured sweetly, “did Mama feed me with her boobies?”

Lars sighed. “Come on, Daisy, let’s head home.”

Chapter Four

By the end of the week, when Lars joined his family for their usual Friday night potluck supper, he had decided Jess Carroll was probably a witch. He figured nothing less than magic could explain her ability to manage Daisy, Jack and the Lone Oak Bed and Breakfast without losing her mind. Managing Daisy alone was making major inroads into his own sanity.

Now he sat in Cal’s oversize rocker and watched his brothers and sisters-in-law try to deal with Daisy, two dogs and a cat while they put food on the table. They didn’t seem overly harassed, but then they didn’t have to deal with all four on a daily basis.

Cal’s Chihuahua had established an uneasy alliance with Pete’s greyhound. Both of them were thoroughly cowed by Docia’s demonic black cat. So was Lars, truth be told. Daisy, of course, wasn’t cowed by anybody.

Friday dinners rotated from one Toleffson house to another. Cal and Docia lived in a terrific renovated barn he’d found and rented after moving to Konigsburg three years ago. Docia’s parents had given it to them as a wedding present. Pete and Janie lived in a former bed and breakfast they’d reconverted into a single-family home. It had a great yard, a strange mauve paint job, and serpentine halls that led to more bedrooms than any sane family could use.

Lars studied Cal’s living room, with its warm wooden walls and its vaulted ceiling high overhead, and wondered when he’d have time to find a real home for himself and his daughter. Right now they were renting a pleasantly bland house next door to Pete and Janie on a pleasantly bland residential street with lots of pleasantly bland elderly retirees. They all thought Daisy was adorable from a distance. He had a feeling she’d lose a lot of her appeal if she got much closer. He sighed. One more thing to put on the to-do list for when he had the time and the energy. To say nothing of the money.

Once upon a time he’d been as lively as his brothers. These days, he felt lucky if he could drag himself out of bed in time to fix Daisy a decent breakfast.

His brothers were both working in the kitchen, along with his sisters-in-law and Allie Maldonado. The barn consisted of one large room downstairs with a couple of bedrooms in the loft upstairs. The downstairs room had areas for cooking, eating and slacking off, as Lars was currently doing. He watched Cal toss a colossal amount of pasta with some kind of green sauce that Lars devoutly hoped was pesto rather than strained spinach. Since Cal was the only vegetarian in the family, he always made sure at least one entrée was meat-free and usually delicious.

Pete was taking care of the carnivores, slicing a large ham on the cutting board while his wife, Janie, tossed salad on the counter beside him. His greyhound occasionally cast a few hopeful looks his way, but Pete had so far ignored her.

Docia was in charge of dishing up the bread and the bowl of scalloped potatoes that Lars had brought, while Allie, praise be, took care of dessert. Beside him, Wonder took care of nothing much beyond his beer.

“We should help,” Lars ventured.

Wonder shook his head. “Don’t even try. You’d just become collateral damage. This dinner is a well-oiled machine, and you and I would constitute grit in the cogs.”

Allie raised her head, scowling at Wonder. “Not to mention you’re far more comfortable sitting on your ass.”

Lars blinked. Allie and Wonder usually had a playful banter thing going, but that last statement hadn’t sounded particularly playful. Beside him, Wonder’s mouth tightened slightly.

“Far more comfortable,” he agreed.

Allie turned abruptly and walked back toward the kitchen area. Wonder’s gaze after her was bleak.

“Trouble in paradise?” Lars asked. He waited for Wonder to reply something witty, sardonic, Wonderish.

Wonder sat staring after the woman Lars happened to know he loved to distraction. “Trouble in paradise.” He sighed, then swallowed a large gulp of his Spaten.

Lars took a swallow of his own Lone Star. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did anything?” Wonder snapped. “Maybe she did something this time.”

Lars raised his eyebrows.

“Okay, okay,” Wonder muttered. “I asked her to marry me.”

“And she’s mad about that? What did you say?”

“I said, ‘I think maybe it’s time we should probably get married.’” Wonder slid further into his seat. “I think it was the maybe that set her off.”

Lars shook his head. “Couldn’t you have worked a possibly into that? Did she say no?”

“She said I was a moron. I’m not sure if that’s no or yes.”

Lars took another swallow of Lone Star. “I think you’d better come up with something pretty spectacular to apologize.”

“I’m working on it.” Wonder watched Allie as she sailed by again, paying him no attention whatsoever.

Dinner was the usual buffet of chaos. Lars sat at the table with his own plate and Daisy’s side by side, not that Daisy was sitting there herself. She bounced between her aunts and uncles, grazing from the various plates before finally settling into Docia’s lap with a piece of bread and butter.

Lars sighed. His daughter was turning into a feral child before his eyes. “Daisy, at least use a fork.”

Daisy mostly ignored him. “Aunt Docia,” she piped, “is my hair pretty?”

Docia glanced down at her absently. “Sure, Dais, your hair’s gorgeous.”

“Jack thinks so.” Daisy nodded in satisfaction. “He touches it. I’m gonna marry him.”

Docia’s look this time was pure shock. She raised wide eyes to Lars. “What? Who’s this?”

“Jack is nine months old,” Lars explained. “The marriage won’t be for a while yet. He’s Jess’s son.”

Docia’s gaze transformed from shock to something more like calculation. “Jess?”

Oops.“Mrs. Carroll,” Lars amended. “Daisy’s sitter.”

“Jess Carroll,” Janie echoed. “I still haven’t met her. Why don’t you bring her to dinner?”

Lars heard alarm bells ringing in his brain. He hadn’t yet been able to convince his sisters-in-law that efforts at matchmaking were futile. He had no intention of getting hooked up with anyone until Daisy was twenty-one, and maybe not even then, given the catastrophe he’d stumbled into the last time he tried it. “Maybe sometime. What’s new at the bookstore?”

Janie’s look told him she wasn’t even slightly fooled by that diversionary tactic, but she apparently decided to let him get by with it. “Right now, it’s hell, but things will get better in January.”

“That long?” He turned toward Docia.

“We’ve got the Kris Kringle Market to plan for,” she explained.

“Kris Kringle Market?” His eyebrows stayed in questioning mode. “It’s only the first week in November. I thought that didn’t happen until after Thanksgiving.”

Docia sighed. “It doesn’t. The thing is, whatever we sell in the booth has to be approved by the Merchants Association, and it has to be something nobody else is doing.”

“So no funnel cakes. Richter’s Insurance Agency beat us to it. And no kettle corn because that’s what Hesselmeyer’s fruit stand always does. We’ve got to come up with something by the end of the week or we’re doomed.” Janie rolled a bit of pasta on her fork. “Did I mention this is really good, Cal?”

“Why not sell books?” Lars turned back to Docia. “I mean, that’s what you do, right?”

“Right.” Docia’s voice was dry. “I’m sure a booth selling books would be a big hit at an outdoor holiday festival.”

“Okay, if books don’t work, what does?” He helped himself to more pasta. Janie was right—it was really good.

“Food,” Docia intoned, counting off on her fingers. “That’s the biggest thing. After that, crafts—there’ll be tons of crafts people from all over the state.”

“Which means we can’t sell crafts since we can’t possibly compete with the pros. And we can’t sell books. So we’re back to food again.” Janie reached for another piece of bread.

“Candy canes,” Wonder suggested. “Gingerbread men.”

“ I’mdoing gingerbread men,” Allie snapped. “You’re supposed to be helping me.”

Wonder winced. Lars had a feeling gingerbread wasn’t the major problem between them at the moment.

“Dog biscuits,” Cal said flatly, pushing back from the table.

Everyone at the table stared at him, including both dogs.

Cal walked to the stove, where he heaped more pasta onto the platter. “People buy gifts for their pets at Christmas. Home-baked dog biscuits could be just what they’re looking for. Even if they’re just for stocking stuffers.”

“Dog biscuits.” Docia frowned, thoughtfully. “Where would we find recipes?”

Janie shrugged. “The Web? I’ll bet there are lots out there. And Cal could check them to make sure they were okay.”

“Sure.” Cal slid the pasta-laden platter back on the table. “Dog biscuit recipes should be easy enough.”

“Maybe cats too,” Janie chimed in. “Cat biscuits.”

Pete stared at her. “There’s no such thing.”

“Well, there should be.” Janie nodded at Docia’s cat, who sat on the bookcase examining the two dogs for possible weaknesses. “Nico would eat them, wouldn’t he, Docia.”

“Probably. He eats everything else that comes his way.” Docia gave Cal a stunning grin. “Thanks, Doc, I think you’ve got it.”

“Anytime, ma’am.” Cal bent down to kiss her ear, ruffling Daisy’s hair as he did.

Lars told himself he didn’t feel old and grumpy and unloved. Still, he wished Daisy would give him a hug.

“You know, we could do books, too,” Docia mused. “Stuff about pets. Kids books. That kind of thing. Buy your dog a biscuit and your kid a copy of Old Yeller. ”

Wonder gave her a surprisingly wistful look. “I read that when I was a kid. Begged for a golden lab until my folks found out I was allergic to dogs.”

Allie narrowed her eyes. “You’re not sneezing now.”

Wonder shrugged. “Neither of these dogs have any hair to speak of.”

“It’s not the hair, it’s the dander,” Cal explained.

Docia glanced down at Cal’s dog. “Do Chihuahuas have dander?”

“Everything has dander.” Cal reached to scratch the greyhound’s ears. “It’s just dry skin flakes.”

Janie grimaced. “Okay, officially euww . I don’t want to talk about this during dinner.”

Docia nodded. “I’m with you.” She glanced down at Daisy again, then back at Lars, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Tell us about Mrs. Carroll and Jack, Dais.”

Daisy glanced up at her, chewing on a carrot stick. “I’m gonna marry Jack.”

“Right. What does Mrs. Carroll say about that?” Docia cocked an eyebrow.

“She says okay. But he’s not old enough. I’ll marry him when I’m five.” Daisy checked the table for new snacks.

“Is Mrs. Carroll nice, Dais?” Janie sounded deceptively innocent.

“Yes, ma’am.” Daisy nodded, reaching for another piece of bread. Docia redirected her hand to another carrot stick.

“Is she pretty?” Docia’s eyes were glittering again.

“I guess. Can I have a cookie?” Daisy stared up at Lars.

“Did you have any normal food?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Daisy said patiently.

“Okay, then.”

Lars watched Daisy grab a chocolate chip cookie the size of a saucer. Please, please, please let the subject of Jessamyn Carroll be closed.

Fat chance. “What do you do at Mrs. Carroll’s house all day?” Janie lifted Daisy and her cookie into her lap.

“Play with Jack and color and play games on the computer. And clean the cabin sometimes.”

“The cabin?” Janie glanced at Lars.

“The guest house. She manages the B and B.”

“Oh.” Janie shrugged. “Well, maybe you can pick up some housekeeping skills. Not that you’ll need them since you’ll be the CEO who hires people to come in and clean her house.”

“What’s a CEO?” Daisy asked, pushing the rest of the cookie into her mouth.

“Somebody who runs a company,” Pete explained. “The big cheese.”

Daisy frowned at him. “We don’t eat cheese. We have soup. And Mrs. Carroll feeds Jack with her…”

“Daisy!” Lars sat up abruptly.

Daisy stared back at him wide-eyed.

“We talked about this,” he said flatly. “You remember what I told you.”

“But she…”

“No, Daisy!” Lars felt his ears getting hot. Everybody at the table was staring at him.

Daisy’s eyes began to pool. “It’s just her boobies!” she blurted. “You said there was nothing wrong with boobies.”

The silence in the room was so complete Lars could hear the sound of the Chihuahua’s toenails clicking across the living room. He took a deep breath, very carefully not looking at anyone in the room. “Mrs. Carroll is nursing her baby. Daisy and I discussed it. I thought the subject was closed.”

He chanced a quick glance around the table. Wonder blinked at him. Allie was biting her lip. Pete’s face had turned magenta and Cal had a hand clapped over his mouth.

Docia swallowed hard, her lips trembling with the effort not to laugh. “He’s right, Daisy. There’s nothing wrong with boobies.” Her voice shook a little on the last word. “It’s just that we don’t usually talk about them at dinner.” She closed her eyes, pressing her lips together hard.

“Well,” Janie muttered, “maybe on special occasions.”

The general hysterics took about ten minutes to settle back into the occasional snicker. Lars let his chin sink onto his fists on the table. Gee, parenthood was fun.

Chapter Five

Even after several days, Daisy still beat Lars to the front door in her eagerness to get to Jessamyn Carroll’s house. “What’s the rush?” he asked, taking a firm hold on her hand before she could dash outside.

“I wanna see if Jack’s grown any,” she explained. “He might be bigger.”

He buckled her into her car seat. “Babies grow slowly, Dais. You probably won’t see much difference.”

She gave that observation the contempt she obviously felt it deserved. He wondered how long this particular fad would last before she moved on to her next obsession. After all, last week it had been stuffed turtles.

At the B and B, Jess gave him a quick smile before shooing Daisy into the house. “Has she had breakfast?” she called over her shoulder.

Lars felt a quick pinch of irritation. “Of course.”

Jess nodded. “Good. She can help me feed Jack. C’mon Daisy, he’s waiting.” And the door swung shut behind her.

He trudged back to his car, feeling oddly depressed about going to his office alone.

Midway through the morning, between appointments with a realtor who wanted some (preferably cheap) tax help and a prospective fruit stand owner who wanted a business plan, Mrs. Suarez leaned in his door. “Do you have time for a walk-in?”

Lars shrugged. “I guess so. The next client isn’t due for another forty minutes. Send him in.”

The man who stepped into his office a moment later looked to be in his late forties. His blue suit was a little tight for his slightly pudgy frame, and he wore a bolo tie with a large silver longhorn at the top. When he removed his tan Stetson, his graying hair ringed a significant bald spot, with a few strands brushed across for effect. His chin bulged over his collar, not quite to double but no longer exactly single.

Lars disliked him on sight.

“Mr. Toleffson,” he boomed, “I’m Lorne Haggedorn. Down from Oklahoma City. Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Lars shook the man’s extended hand dutifully. Haggedorn wore a gold pinkie ring with a dull green stone. “What can I do for you, Mr. Haggedorn?”

Haggedorn settled into the chair opposite the desk, then rested his ankle on his knee so that Lars could see his elaborately embroidered cowboy boots. The toes were so sharply pointed he almost winced.

“I’m checking out some possibilities here in Konigsburg.” Haggedorn leaned back into his chair. “Looks like a pretty successful little town.”

Lars nodded. “Generally, yeah. The Merchants Association can give you more information about that.”

Haggedorn’s eyes narrowed. “I wanted to check the place out for myself. See what kind of services the town had. I may want to move some business down here.”

“What kind of business are you in, Mr. Haggedorn?” Lars tried to sound like he really cared.

“Land development.” Haggedorn waved a hand in the general direction of Main. “Understand that’s big around here. Lots of opportunities.”

Lars nodded. “Also lots of people already involved. It’s a very competitive market.”

Haggedorn shrugged. “Always is. So how do you like the town, Mr. Toleffson?”

“Fine. It’s a good place to live.” Lars considered giving Haggedorn the standard Konigsburg pitch, then decided to leave it to the Merchants Association.

Haggedorn’s expression sharpened. “How’s the accounting business?”

“No complaints.” Lars wondered idly if Haggedorn was a potential competitor trying to size him up.

“So you have a wife? Kids? What’s this place like for families?”

Lars took a breath. “I have family here, yes. So far as I know the schools are good.”

“What about child care? Any daycare centers around?”

“There’s a daycare center near the highway. Wee Care.” Haggedorn looked too old to have kids in daycare, but maybe he had a young trophy wife. Sort of like Sherice. Lars managed not to grimace.

Haggedorn nodded. “That where you’ve got your kids?”

Lars felt a prickling up his spine for no reason he could exactly identify. “I looked into it, yes.”

“Young kids then?” Haggedorn’s lips spread in a grin that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “Boys or girls?”

“I have a daughter.”

“And this daycare place is good?”

“It looked good to me.” Lars ignored the slight stiffness in his shoulders. “You should talk to them directly, though. I’m sure they’d show you around. Are you also looking for accounting services, Mr. Haggedorn?”

He’d seldom seen a client he wanted less than Lorne Haggedorn. But discussing business felt better than discussing Daisy.

“I might. If I decide to move down here, that is.” Haggedorn fiddled with his bolo tie, staring out the window behind Lars’s desk.

“What kind of service would you be looking for? Business plan? Taxes? Financial planning?”

Haggedorn shrugged. “All of that, I imagine. Haven’t decided yet. You do mainly business accounting, right?”

“Mainly.”

The prickling up Lars’s spine was more persistent. Something felt profoundly wrong about Lorne Haggedorn, beyond the bad combover and the gaudy boots. “When you do decide what you’re looking for, I’ll be glad to give you an idea of what the costs would be. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Haggedorn’s eyes narrowed again, making him look a little like a life-size Pillsbury Doughboy. “I’ll do that. Any other information you can give me about the town?”

Lars leaned back in his chair. “I like it, but it’s not for everybody. People do keep track of each other in small towns. It wouldn’t be a good place for anybody who wanted privacy. Or who didn’t like other people poking into his business.”

For a moment he and Haggedorn stared at each other in silence. Then Haggedorn’s lips slid into another sour grin. “I’ll keep that in mind, then. Nice talking to you.”

Lars stood, but managed not to shake Haggedorn’s hand. “Stop by again. Let me know if you decide to stay.”

“Oh, I’ll be staying.” Haggedorn turned toward the door. “You can be sure of that.”

Lars watched him walk past Mrs. Suarez’s desk, wondering what exactly Haggedorn would be staying for.

By the beginning of their second week together, Jess had figured out how to get Daisy to cooperate—use Jack shamelessly.

Daisy had taken him over as her consort and her partner in crime, although those crimes were at a pretty rudimentary level, given that he could only crawl. With Jack’s limited mobility, Jess wasn’t overly worried about Daisy’s plots, but she didn’t leave them alone together for more than a few minutes at most.

Now Daisy sat next to Jack’s playpen, in the middle of the guest cabin’s living room. She wiggled her fingers through the mesh, grinning while Jack giggled helplessly.

“Great audience, kid,” Jess muttered. “Who knew you were this easy to please?” She gave one last swipe of her sponge over the sink, then rinsed again.

“Are we done?” Daisy piped.

“Almost. I’ve got to run the sweeper and then we can go back home.” Fortunately, the couple who’d had the cabin at the beginning of the week had looked to be in their late sixties, which may have limited any tendencies toward carousing and thus cut back on the need for cleaning.

Daisy’s brow furrowed. “Jack doesn’t like the sweeper. It’s too noisy.”

“Do you want to sit with him?” Jess cocked an eyebrow in Daisy’s direction. This was a new thing—Daisy sitting in Jack’s playpen like a miniature convict.

“Perhaps that would be best,” Daisy intoned, then pulled herself to her feet.

Jess blinked at her. Sometimes the kid seemed like two going on forty. However, since she apparently spent most of her time around adults, except for Jack, Jess figured she had a right to some weird speech patterns.

“Okay, in you go.” Jess slid her hands under Daisy’s arms and lifted her in with Jack. He immediately grabbed a couple of handfuls of her hair, crowing in delight.

Daisy freed herself by pushing his hands away. “Not now, Jack. Maybe later.”

Jess bit her lip, telling herself that Daisy hadn’t necessarily heard that phrase before her parents’ divorce. Still, it seemed appropriate.

Or not. One thing Jess had had to accept over the past two weeks—Lars Toleffson was one good-looking man. She was reminded of that fact every time he dropped Daisy off or picked her up. He was impossibly broad-shouldered, even in the business suits he usually wore. His hair was the color of strong coffee, and his eyes were like molasses. Just looking at him made her feel hungry.

But looking was all she was doing. She was definitely not in the market for any kind of hook-up, even the very temporary kind. And a temporary hook-up with the man who was paying her to look after his daughter didn’t seem like a smart thing to do. Not to mention that Lars Toleffson hadn’t seemed even slightly interested in her in a carnal way.

Probably too tired. Lord knew she was, and Jack wasn’t even walking yet. Jess switched on the vacuum sweeper, then checked him to see if it inspired any panic. Jack, busy handing his blocks to Daisy, seemed not to notice.

“We could get Jack a dog,” Daisy chirped over the noise of the sweeper. “From my Uncle Cal.”

“Your Uncle Cal?” Jess was vaguely aware that there were other Toleffsons in town, but she hadn’t met any of them. She hadn’t met much of anybody beyond Mrs. Carmody, the owner of the Lone Oak. Not that she wanted to meet people. It was best not to draw any more attention to the two of them than she had to. “What does your Uncle Cal do?”

“He’s a veteran,” Daisy explained. “He fixes sick dogs.”

“Veterinarian,” Jess corrected absently.

“And Uncle Pete puts bad people in jail,” Daisy continued. “And Aunt Docia and Aunt Janie have books.”

“What kind of books?” Jess ran the sweeper around the couch.

Daisy shrugged. “All kinds. In the shop.”

Okay. Bookshop.She’d seen a bookshop on Main—maybe that was the one. “Do you have any other uncles and aunts here in town?”

“Well…” Daisy’s brow furrowed. “Uncle Erik, but he doesn’t come to dinner.”

“He doesn’t?” Jess turned off the sweeper, wrapping the cord back around the handle again. “Why’s that?”

“’Cause he’s real busy, Daddy says.”

“What does he do?” She began to gather up the cleaning supplies again, sliding the vacuum sweeper back into the closet.

“He’s a policeman. He’s got a gun. He’d show it to Jack.”

Jess wasn’t sure exactly what to say about that, since not in this lifetime didn’t seem polite. “Maybe when he’s older. Are you ready to go back home now?”

“Yes ma’am.” Daisy stood and lifted her arms.

Jess scooped her up high in the air, then let her down gently. “There you go! Air Daisy, in for a landing.”

Daisy giggled, then picked up the tote bag of sponges and dust cloths, while Jess lifted Jack into the backpack, fastening the strap around his waist.

“Can I ride in the cart?” Daisy bounced toward the front door.

“If there’s room.” Jess folded the playpen one-handed, then carried it outside to the large yellow wagon she used to tote cleaning supplies. She suspected the wagon was the true attraction for Daisy in their morning cleaning excursions—that and Jack, of course.

Now she helped Daisy climb inside, then settled the backpack more comfortably onto her own shoulders.

“Can Jack ride with me?”

Jess shook her head. “Not enough room. He squirms around.”

“I’d hold him.”

“I know.” Jess piled playpen, tote bags and miscellaneous dust cloths behind and around Daisy, then picked up the wagon handle. “Maybe sometime when we don’t have so much to carry.”

Daisy looked like she might try the pooling eyes thing, but once Jess turned toward the road and began pulling the wagon, she settled back against the wagon rail, half-singing one of her songs.

Jess trudged up the dirt road that led from the guest cabin to her home, listening to Daisy’s variations on Old MacDonald that seemed to include an improbable assortment of animals and animal sounds, although the unicorn sounded a lot like a donkey. Somewhere a cardinal chirped in the pecan trees, as the wind rattled the leaves around them.

Surprisingly cool for early November. Jess resolved to put a sweater on Jack next time they came to the cabin and to ask Lars Toleffson to bring a heavier jacket for Daisy tomorrow. She glanced up at her cabin and stopped short.

A man was walking across her front porch, peering in the front windows.

Jess stood frozen at the point where the road branched off to the guest cabin. Her heart hammered. She could turn around. Clearly the man hadn’t heard them yet.

“I need to go,” Daisy demanded, her voice piping across the open meadow.

The man looked up, then stared straight at them.

Jess took a deep breath. Too late to run, and where would she run to, anyway? She raised her head, straightening her spine, and resumed her trudge toward the front porch.

“Mrs. Carroll?” the man called when she still was a few feet up the road.

She stopped again. “I’m Jessamyn Carroll.”

The man’s smile broadened and he stepped off the porch, walking toward her. “Lorne Barrymore. Glad to meet you.”

Jess watched him approach. He was maybe forty-five or so, slightly paunchy, collar too tight around his chin. His hair had receded to a graying ring around the outside of his bald spot, but he’d combed a few strands across.

Lorne Barrymore extended his hand. He wore a gold ring with a green stone on his puffy little finger. After a moment, Jess lifted her hand to shake his.

“Glad I caught you.” Barrymore grinned again. “Thought maybe you were out.”

“No, I’m here.” Jess wondered if there was any way she could get by him and get the children into the house. She could turn and run back to the cabin with Jack, but not with Daisy. And what good would it do to hide there when he’d already discovered where she was?

“Who are you?” Daisy’s face slid into a modified scowl.

“Well, hello there.” Barrymore turned toward her. “What’s your name, little girl?”

Daisy pushed her lips together in a tight line, regarding Barrymore with narrowed eyes. “I’m not little.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Barrymore?” Jess leaned down and helped Daisy out of the cart, then slipped an arm around her shoulders to keep her close.

“Well, now, I heard you were somebody who offered child care in your home.” Barrymore gave her an even wider smile, the kind supposed to make her feel more relaxed, no doubt. “I’m interested in making arrangements for my kids. We’re thinking of moving down here to Konigsburg.”

Barrymore’s grin was bright, but it didn’t seem to go very far. His eyes were uninvolved. Jess felt a quick chill up her spine. “Sorry. I’m not licensed to look after children.”

Barrymore’s grin hardened. “So both of these are yours?”

“Both of them stay with me,” she temporized. “I can keep two children without a license, but I wouldn’t want to try to look after any more. I don’t have the time.”

“But you’re looking after these two, right?” Barrymore glanced down at Daisy again.

“Sorry, I can’t help you.” Jess took hold of the wagon handle again, keeping her arm around Daisy. She began walking toward the cabin, forcing herself not to hurry.

Barrymore walked alongside her. “It’s a shame you’re not taking any other kids. Both of these kids look well cared for.” He glanced down at Daisy again, his smile still wide. “You having a good time here, sweetheart?”

“I’m not your sweetheart.” Daisy stuck out her lower lip. Jess felt like applauding.

“Like I say,” Barrymore continued as if Daisy hadn’t spoken, “I need something reliable for my own kids. I’d be willing to pay. Maybe more than these kids’ families are paying you.”

“I don’t need any more money, Mr. Barrymore.” Jess hoped her nose wasn’t growing as she spoke. “And I can’t take care of any more children beyond these two.”

She climbed the porch steps, pushing Daisy slightly ahead of her and leaving the wagon behind. Barrymore climbed the steps behind her. She stopped for a moment, resting her hand on the door. Her cell phone was in her pocket. She could always threaten to call Daisy’s uncle the cop.

Barrymore gave her one last smile, his gaze darting around the porch. “Well, suppose I give you my card. Then you can call me if you change your mind. And what’s your number here?”

“I won’t change my mind, Mr. Barrymore.” Jess raised her head, staring straight at him. Always better to meet threats head on. “I’m not interested.”

Barrymore shrugged. “Too bad. Don’t suppose you could recommend anybody else in the area.”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“I need to go!” Daisy blurted. “Right now!”

“We have to go now. Emergency. Goodbye, Mr. Barrymore.” Jess unlocked the door, pushing Daisy ahead of her, then closed the door behind her.

She pushed the bolt across, wondering if Barrymore could hear her on the front porch. And wondering if the windows were all locked too. “Okay, Daisy.” Jess turned back toward the bathroom. “Let’s get you set up.”

“Okay.” Daisy followed her down the hall. “I didn’t like him. He wasn’t nice.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Jess muttered, pushing open the bathroom door.

Lars came to pick up Daisy a little early so that he’d have time to drop her off at the bookstore. Docia and Janie wanted her to try out their new children’s reading nook, giving Lars another rare opportunity to have a beer with his brothers at the Dew Drop.

Daisy galloped toward him after Jess Carroll opened the door. “Daddy! We cleaned the cabin and a nasty man wanted to know my name. Are we gonna see Aunt Docia? Jack has a new tooth.”

She bounced away from him before he could stop her, heading back toward the baby’s room. “Daisy, grab your backpack and your teddy bear,” Lars called. He figured she’d also say goodbye to Jack, which meant another five minutes at least.

He turned toward Jess, trying to keep his voice neutral. “A nasty man?”

Jess sighed. “Come in, please. I need to talk to you about this.”

Lars sank onto the couch as his chest clenched. “Is she all right?”

Jess’s forehead furrowed. “What? Of course, she is. Nothing happened—I would have called you if it was anything serious. A man was hanging around here when we got back from cleaning the guest cabin. He claimed he was looking for child care for his children. I told him I wasn’t interested and took the children inside.”

Lars let out a breath, trying to unclench. “So everything’s okay?”

“Not exactly.” She leaned forward. Her face looked oddly pinched, as if she were angry. Lars looked at her more closely.

Frightened. He’d bet good money that Jess Carroll was frightened about something.

“Did you tell anyone here in town I was taking care of Daisy?”

Lars shrugged. “My brothers and sisters-in-law. My receptionist. Nobody else. But they might have mentioned it to other people, particularly at work.”

“Somehow this man got the idea I was in the child care business.” She tried to smile, but her lips trembled slightly when she did.

“Did he give you his name?”

“Barrymore.” Jess pressed her lips together, thinking. “I think he said his first name was Lawrence. No, Lorne. Lorne Barrymore. Is that someone you know?”

Lars felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. “Lorne Barrymore. What did he look like?”

“Late forties. Thinning hair. Sort of pudgy. And he had a gold pinky ring with some kind of green stone.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know him?”

He exhaled slowly. “Not exactly. Somebody who looked like that came to my office earlier today. Only he called himself Lorne Haggedorn.”

“What did he want?”

“He claimed he was moving to Konigsburg and wanted an accountant.” Lars shrugged. “He asked about the town. Business prospects. Schools. Child care.”

He wasn’t sure it was possible for Jess Carroll to get paler, but he thought she just had. “Child care,” she murmured.

“I didn’t give him your name,” he said quickly. “I didn’t even give him Daisy’s name. However he found out she was here, he didn’t get it from me.”

She pressed her fingers against her lips, blinking. “Shit.”

Lars was still trying to figure out why Jess Carroll would be frightened of Lorne Haggedorn. The guy came across as a jerk and possibly crooked, but he hadn’t been particularly threatening. At least, not when he was asking about accountants.

“Look, it may not be anything, but I’ll check with my brother. Pete’s an assistant county attorney. If he thinks it’s a problem, we’ll go to the police.”

Jess managed a rather tremulous smile. “I thought your brother was a policeman. That’s what Daisy said. If I couldn’t have gotten rid of Barrymore on my own, I was going to call him.”

The clench was back in Lars’s chest. “That’s another brother. Erik. He’s a part-time Konigsburg cop.”

She sat still for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. I’ll leave it to you, I guess.”

He watched her run the tip of her tongue across her lips. She had a nice mouth, particularly when she smiled. All of a sudden, he really wanted to see that smile again. He felt a wave of anger at Lorne Haggedorn,a.k.a. Barrymore, for taking it away.

He leaned forward, fighting the impulse to take her hand in his. He didn’t want her worrying about him along with Haggedorn. “Look, if anything frightens you, if you need to get in touch with somebody—you’ve got my cell phone number. Just call me, no matter what it is. I can be out here in ten minutes.”

Jess blinked at him. For a moment, her lips trembled as if she might cry. Then suddenly her expression closed off again. Her lips spread in a faint smile. “Okay. I’ll hold you to that. But it probably won’t be necessary.”

Lars nodded. “Probably not.”

He watched her for another moment. Her eyes were the color of sea foam, clear and deep.

Okay, enough. If he was waxing poetic about the color of her eyes, it was past time to go. “Daisy,” he called, “are you ready?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Daisy padded back to him, her backpack over her shoulder. “I said goodnight to Jack.” She turned to Jess. “Can I have a hug?”

Jess knelt beside her, spreading her arms, her mouth sliding into a grin that showed the twin dimples in her cheeks as she pulled Daisy in.

Lars felt his throat constrict as he watched, while some other parts of his anatomy did the opposite. He resolutely ignored the whole thing. He had no intention of walking into the Dew Drop with a hard-on.

Lydia Moreland would never have admitted to anyone that she was waiting for a call. She didn’t wait on other people—other people waited on her.

With Smythe, though, she had no choice. The contractor was in the driver’s seat—she was along for the ride. And to pay for the gas, of course. Judging from the first expense statement she’d received from Westerman, a lot of gas was involved.

When her special cell phone rang around five, she picked it up immediately. Then she waited out two more rings. It wouldn’t do to let Smythe know how much she needed the information.

“Yes?” she murmured into the cell.

“Good. You’re there. I was afraid I’d have to leave a voice mail. And this isn’t anything you’ll want recorded.” Smythe still used the electronic distortion device. Even so the voice sounded faintly amused again, as if he knew exactly what Lydia had been up to.

“That won’t be necessary,” she snapped. “Do you have anything to report?”

“I’ve found your daughter-in-law. She’s living in a small town in Texas.” Smythe’s voice now sounded matter-of-fact, even slightly bored. Like he hadn’t just dropped a hand grenade into her afternoon.

“What town?” she gasped. “Where?”

“ Atown. Before I tell you anything more, we need to discuss what the next step should be.”

Lydia pictured the mythical Smythe leaning back in a chair, smiling. She always saw him as a dangerously civilized man, rather like James Mason in the fifties. In reality, of course, she had no idea what he looked like—or even if he was a man. The voice sounded like a robot.

“There’s nothing to discuss. I’ve already told you what I want you to do. Give me the name of the town and send me another bill.” She used the voice that had proven effective over the years with bankers and lawyers, underlings who still had some limited power of their own.

Smythe chuckled. “That attitude won’t work with me. I have the information and you need it. We’re negotiating here, Mrs. Moreland. What do you really want?”

She pressed her fingers against her eyelids, trying to force back the migraine she knew was developing. “I want my grandson. Safe and sound. In my home.”

“But not your daughter-in-law?”

“Certainly not!” she snapped.

“It’s not certain at all. She’s the child’s mother. But possession is possession, and I imagine your lawyers can distract her once you’ve gotten hold of her son.”

She pressed her lips together to avoid cursing. Barrett’s slut of a wife probably would try to get the child back—she hadn’t listened to reason before. Lydia would have to make sure she didn’t have the opportunity. “What is it you want, Smythe? More money? I do need the name of the town, but I don’t necessarily need it from you.”

“No,” he agreed. “Of course, I could just as easily inform your daughter-in-law that you’re onto her. Give her time to take off again.”

Lydia’s head began to pound. She ran her fingers along her forehead. “All right, I repeat—what do you want?”

“I’ll deliver your grandchild. In your specified condition. In return, you’ll pay me five hundred thousand. Once the money has been deposited in an account I’ll specify, I’ll bring you the child.”

“That’s outrageous!” she blurted.

“No, Mrs. Moreland, that’s cheap. I could have asked for a million. Clearly, the child is worth that much to you.”

She sat listening to the silence for a moment, considering her lack of options. “If I’m going to take your offer, I need a way of getting in touch with you. No more of this waiting for your call.”

After another moment, Smythe sighed. “All right, I’ll give you a number where you can leave a message. Tomorrow.”

Lydia assumed that meant he’d buy a throw-away cell phone for that purpose. She didn’t particularly care what he did as long as it worked when she needed it to work. She rubbed her eyes again. “All right. I accept your deal.”

“Wonderful.” Smythe sounded vaguely amused again. “I’ll be in touch.”

Chapter Six

Lars slid into the booth at the Dew Drop a moment before Cal dropped onto the other side. Wonder and Pete were already in place, squinting into the darkness of the bar. No beers were on the table.

“No barmaid?” Lars glanced back at the bar where Ingstrom was doing his usual desultory cleaning job.

“Two barmaids.” Pete sighed. “Good ol’ Ruby and a new recruit. They just haven’t been around yet.”

As Lars watched, Ruby appeared at the bar with a tray full of empty beer bottles. Ingstrom said something, and she sneered in reply. Instead of the plunging neckline from last time, she wore a bright blue T-shirt. The picture on the front looked like a smashed hamster.

“What’s with the T-shirt? That drawing looks like an obscenity.”

Wonder shrugged. “It’s supposed to be a drawing of the Dew Drop. Mrs. Ingstrom designed it. Ingstrom figured it would class the place up if he had the barmaids wear matching T-shirts.”

Pete peered toward the bar. “Covering up Ruby would definitely class up any place. However, the T-shirts were probably not his best choice.”

“What’ll it be?”

Lars glanced up guiltily, expecting to see Ruby glowering down at them. Instead, the girl who huddled next to the table was considerably smaller. Her bright blue T-shirt enveloped her from shoulders to mid-thigh. Her very black hair had what looked like a streak of magenta along the side, and silver balls rimmed the outer edges of both ears. She also had a spike through her right eyebrow. Her name tag read Dahlia .

“Spaten,” Wonder croaked.

“Lone Star.” Pete gestured to himself and Lars. “Two.”

“Dos Equis.” Cal smiled at her. “You’re new here.”

Dahlia shrugged her thin shoulders. “Yeah. That all you want?”

Cal nodded, his smile fading.

She turned and scuttled back toward the bar.

Wonder shook his head. “Amazing. A woman immune to the famous Toleffson charm.”

Cal shrugged. “I’m not trying to be charming, just friendly. Being a barmaid at the Dew Drop doesn’t strike me as anybody’s first job choice.”

“Given the amount of metal she’s got embedded in her head, the Dew Drop may have been a step up from whatever she was doing before.”

“Still.” Cal turned toward Lars. “So what’s new with you? Haven’t seen you since the last family dinner.”

Lars might have imagined it, but he had the feeling they were all trying hard not to snicker. “Okay, zip it. Jesus, would you just forget about the damn boobies?”

The guffawing had begun to settle down by the time Dahlia reappeared with the beers.

“Eight bucks,” she muttered, placing the beers on the table in no particular order.

“Got it covered.” Pete slipped her a ten, then waved off the two singles she tried to hand him. “Keep it.”

“Big spender.” Wonder arched an eyebrow as Dahlia slipped away again.

“Maybe she’ll spend it on food,” Cal murmured.

“Here’s hoping.” Pete picked up his bottle, pushing the other Lone Star toward Lars. “So, I repeat, what’s new with you?”

Lars took the beer, letting it dangle from his fingers. “Actually, I need to talk to you in a sort of semi-professional capacity.”

Wonder grabbed his bottle and slid off to the end of the booth. “C’mon Calthorpe, this sounds boring beyond belief. I’ll challenge you to two out of three on darts.”

“You’re on.” Cal followed him through the tightly packed tables toward the back room.

Lars blinked. “That was fast.”

“That was self-preservation.” Pete swallowed some Lone Star. “Wonder has a low capacity for serious stuff. Besides, I think he’s trying to convince Cal to have Docia work on Allie. He’s already tried with me and Janie.”

“No progress on the proposal?”

Pete shook his head. “Stupidest proposal in history, but normally I think she’d make allowances for it being Wonder. Maybe she’s decided it’s time for him to step it up a little.”

Lars took one last glance at Wonder before he disappeared into the back room. He stood maybe five ten, slight love handles, thinning brown hair, horn-rims. Stepping it up didn’t seem likely. “Maybe she just wants him to stop being a jerk.”

“In that case, she’s out of luck. So what’s the problem you wanted to talk about?” Pete leaned back again.

Lars pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure there is one. Just…weirdness.”

“Okay, what’s the weirdness?”

“This morning a guy named Lorne Haggedorn came to my office. Said he was going to relocate his business to Konigsburg and was looking for accounting help. Then he started asking about what the town was like, and he ended up asking a lot of questions about child care and my kid.”

Pete narrowed his eyes. “Why would that qualify as weird? Aren’t most parents concerned about child care?”

Lars shrugged. “Part of it was his attitude, which was sort of, I don’t know, shady or something. But the rest of it comes later.”

“What’s the rest of it?” Pete leaned back again, picking up his beer.

“This afternoon when Jess got back from cleaning the guest cabin with the kids, a guy was snooping around her cabin. When he saw her, he gave her a big song and dance about looking for child care. Asking her if she was looking after kids. Daisy said he was, and I quote, ‘a nasty man’.”

Pete leaned forward quickly. “Did he say anything to Daisy? Try to touch her?”

Lars shook his head. “Not that kind of nasty. He was mainly concentrating on Jess. She didn’t tell him anything, but she said she had a hard time getting rid of him.”

“And you think it’s the same guy?”

“I know it’s the same guy. He said his name was Lorne Barrymore, and Jess said he had a pinky ring with a green stone. So did Lorne Haggedorn.”

Pete stared down at his hands, frowning. “It doesn’t sound like he’s done anything illegal. Just…unsettling.”

“I know. But it worries me. And it upset Jess.”

Pete gave him a quick look. “Jess?”

“Okay, Mrs. Carroll.” Lars pinched his nose again. “Don’t give me a hard time. She’s doing a good job. Daisy’s happy. I don’t want her to be bothered.”

“You think this is about Daisy?”

“I don’t know what it’s about. It could be anything, but I don’t like the idea of this guy hanging around where my daughter is staying.”

“Right.” Pete leaned back again. “The thing is, I can’t do much to help you with this. It isn’t at the county attorney level. You know who you need to talk to, bro.”

Lars took a deep breath, then blew it out. “Yeah. Erik.”

“You could talk to one of the other cops, but from what I’ve seen over there, Erik’s about the best they’ve got. Him and Nando Avrogado.”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll go talk to him tonight, while it’s still fresh in my mind.”

Lars and Pete stared at each other for a moment. Lars was willing to bet they were both thinking the same general thing, remembering some time when they were little and Erik had done something that hurt. He had a lot of those memories. So did Pete. So did Cal. They were all trying to get beyond it, but it hadn’t happened yet.

“Janie still wants to meet her, you know.” The corners of Pete’s mouth edged up. “So does Docia. You can only hold the two of them off for so long.”

It took Lars a moment to remember what woman they were talking about. Then his shoulders began to tense. “She’s a nice woman, but she’s my daughter’s babysitter. That’s it. Whatever else they’re trying to stir up isn’t going to happen.”

Pete moved his bottle through the wet ring on the table. “You mean not with her? Or not with anybody?”

Lars sighed. “I’m trying to raise my daughter, Pete. That’s all I’ve got time for.”

“Any word from the former Mrs. Lars Toleffson lately?”

“She called a few days ago. Usual stuff.”

“Which is?”

“Complaints about money. How she doesn’t have enough and how I owe her more.” Lars peeled a strip from the label on his bottle, crumbling it between his fingers.

Pete shook his head. “She signed the agreement, Lars. It’s not that easy to get a settlement amended.”

“She’s just rattling my chain. She knows I don’t want her anywhere near Daisy, and she figures threatening me over Daisy is always good for a few bucks. But we both know she doesn’t really want custody.” Lars moved his shoulders, trying to loosen them. “Anyway, I’ve got enough on my plate with the fallout from the divorce. I don’t need any other women in my life, believe me.” Not to mention that he still didn’t trust his ability to choose a woman who wouldn’t turn out to be the second coming of Sherice.

Pete shook his head. “Sherice shouldn’t be the end of your life, bro. You need to get out there again. Look at Cal and Docia. Hell, look at me and Janie.”

“Okay, both of you hit the jackpot.” Lars picked up his beer again, then set it down. “Look, Pete, I know Janie means well, but if you could get her off this matchmaker kick, I’d appreciate it.”

Pete’s mouth spread in a slow grin as he leaned back against the booth again. “You want me to control Janie? And Docia? Seriously?”

Lars didn’t figure that question really rated an answer. He picked up his beer again and drained half of what was left. At least he could walk to the police station from here. No way did he want his brother Erik to arrest him for DWI.

Jess sat at her window, watching the darkness gather beyond her front porch. She should have been working on her last few changes to the Synchronicity site while Jack dozed on his blanket. Instead, she sat watching the woods, waiting for something to happen and thinking about running.

They’d done it before. She knew just how she’d go about doing it now. Load anything she couldn’t replace into the Honda. Tuck a sleeping Jack into his car seat. Get into the driver’s seat herself and take off without ever looking back.

She wasn’t even sure the Morelands and their hired trackers knew about the Honda. She’d bought it at a used car lot somewhere in Tennessee on the way down, trading in her old Buick. If she’d been lucky, whoever the Morelands had on her trail hadn’t figured out what she was driving yet, let alone where.

The odds were the Moreland family had nothing to do with Lorne Barrymore, of course. He was probably just some local creep, playing some kind of game whose rules only he knew. Maybe he was a garden-variety stalker.

Jess shivered. Why exactly was that idea supposed to reassure her?

She leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes, seeing Barry in the hospital again during those awful last days. Keep away from her, sweetheart. She won’t let anybody get in the way of whatever it is she wants. And when she’s done, she throws you away like so much trash.

She thought of Michelle, who’d been her best friend, then her only friend, then nothing, someone who wouldn’t return her calls. Michelle in the ladies’ room at work. Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but they’re under a lot of pressure about you and your job. It’s coming from the top, Jess. Watch your back.

And Lee, who was, well, hard to say what Lee had been exactly. Although she knew what he’d tried to be. His voice on the phone, sounding almost apologetic. Look, Jessamyn, they’ve got more juice than either of us. Just give her what she wants.

What she wanted was Jack. And Jack she would never have, not so long as Jess was still able to keep two steps ahead of her.

She blew out a breath. Probably they ought to leave Konigsburg. Tomorrow, if not sooner. But she’d felt so comfortable here. Almost safe. Even though she’d been careful not to do too much in town, not to let too many people see her. Except for Lars Toleffson.

She still wasn’t sure what he’d been offering when he’d said she could call him if she got frightened. She didn’t think he was coming on to her. But she’d felt…something. Some kind of vibe between them.

Which was another reason they should probably hit the road. Soon.

The shadows of the oaks and pecans had spread two-thirds of the way across the small meadow in front of her cabin. No one was in the guest cabin tonight. Just her and Jack, out here in the back country. Or what passed for the back country two miles from Main Street.

Jess rubbed a hand across her face. Maybe Daisy was right. A dog might be a nice idea, preferably one that combined the qualities of Lassie, Rin Tin Tin and the Hound of the Baskervilles where intruders were concerned.

Jack gurgled in his sleep and Jess looked down at him. One small hand was tucked beneath his cheek. Jess felt the familiar constriction somewhere around her heart.

Not the Hound of the Baskervilles then. But definitely a breed that would stand up for Jack no matter what. And one that could make a lot of noise.

The shadows outside were entirely too quiet.

Lars studied the Konigsburg police station building. He didn’t think he’d ever been here before. Light streamed through the window into the small lot where a single police cruiser was parked.

Pete and Janie were taking Daisy on to their house for this week’s family dinner. Lars figured it wouldn’t take him long to talk to Erik and join them there. Assuming he could get himself to open the door and walk in.

Since Erik had moved to Konigsburg, a couple of months after Pete and Lars had moved in themselves, the four of them had managed to develop a polite, if distant, relationship. When Lars saw Erik on the street they nodded to each other. When Daisy was with him, she gave Erik the same hug and kiss she gave her other uncles, and Erik accepted it happily enough.

But polite or not, Lars doubted they’d ever be close. Not after all those years of Erik the nightmare bully, of Pete trying to defend his little brothers against his older one, of Lars and Cal finally growing big enough to fight back themselves, although they frequently got beaten up just the same.

He knew Erik had reformed, that he’d done his best to make up for what he’d once been, even that he tried to stay out of their way so they wouldn’t feel they had to talk to him if they didn’t want to. Lars even knew he should want to. But he didn’t much.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets, and walked up the steps to the glass station door.

Erik was sitting at a desk behind the front counter, typing at a computer keyboard. So far as Lars could tell, he was by himself. He glanced up when Lars walked in, his expression becoming blank. “Hey, Lars.”

“Hey.” Lars stood inside the doorway, trying to decide how to begin.

Erik waved at the end of the counter. “Come on around and sit. You want some coffee?”

“Sure,” Lars lied. He’d had two beers at the Dew Drop, and coffee was the last thing he wanted. On the other hand, it gave him something to do while he figured out a way to explain things to Erik.

Erik set a Styrofoam cup on the desk in front of him, then dropped back into his desk chair. “What brings you here?”

Lars sipped the coffee. It wasn’t half bad. “I’ve got a problem, and I thought you might be able to help me with it.”

Erik leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk in front of him. “Okay, tell me about it.”

Lars took a breath and launched into the story, wondering if it sounded as ludicrous as he was afraid it did. When he got to the part about Jess Carroll and her unwanted visitor, Erik held up his hand.

“Did she ask him to leave?”

“I’m not sure.” Lars frowned. “She told him she didn’t want to take care of his kids, and then she went inside her house. Does it make a difference?”

“If she told him to leave and he didn’t, you might be able to make a case for trespassing, or for harassment. Tell me the rest of it.”

Lars did, fairly quickly, and Erik leaned back in his chair. “You’re sure it was the same guy?”

Lars nodded. “I’m sure. There can’t be that many pudgy balding guys named Lorne with pinkie rings running around Konigsburg.”

Erik sighed, staring up at the ceiling for a few moments. “Any idea what this is all about?”

“None. It’s just…troubling.”

“Yeah. Troubling is right.”

Lars rubbed the back of his neck, trying to loosen the knots in his muscles. “Is there anything I can do? Swear out a complaint or something?”

Erik shrugged. “I don’t see anything you’ve got a legal right to complain about here. The guy apparently used a false name with at least one of you, but that’s not illegal, as long as he didn’t try to get anything from you.”

“And the questions? The way he tried to find out about us?”

“Again, not illegal unless he uses the information for some criminal purpose. Besides, neither of you told him anything, right?”

Lars nodded. “Right. The more he asked, the more both of us backed off. So there’s nothing we can do?”

Erik stared at the ceiling, thinking. “I can’t arrest him—like I say, he hasn’t done anything illegal that I can see. I can talk to him if I can locate him. Try to find out what’s going on, why he’s in town. You have any ideas on that?”

Lars shook his head. “I suppose it could be something connected to Sherice, but I don’t know what. It’s not like he can find out anything from me or Jess that would affect the custody agreement.”

“Any chance Sherice might like to grab Daisy?” Erik’s voice was surprisingly calm.

Lars felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest. He took a couple of deep breaths. “It wouldn’t get her anything. She doesn’t have legal custody and she’s not about to hide out anywhere if she wouldn’t have access to her money. And I’d make sure she ended up in court if she tried it—preferably with extensive coverage in The Des Moines Register that would blow her chances to pick up a rich new husband.”

Erik nodded slowly. “All the same, you might want to warn your babysitter to keep an eye out. She sounds like a pretty sharp woman.”

“She is.” Lars took another breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “I’ll do that.”

He stood, suddenly anxious to get to Pete’s house. It made no sense to be worried, but he wanted to see Daisy anyway. “Thanks, Erik.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.” One corner of Erik’s mouth edged up a little more than the other, giving his smile a slightly off-center look. “I’ll get on it tomorrow, though.”

“Thanks anyway. I’ll talk to you again later.” Lars opened the door, then paused briefly. Erik had returned to his computer keyboard in the empty room.

For an odd moment, Las wondered if he ever got lonely there by himself. We should do something about this—all of us. Lars took a breath and then blew it out. They should, but they probably wouldn’t.

Then he turned and started hiking back up the street toward the rest of his family.

Chapter Seven

On Monday, Jess had the whole morning to work on Web sites while the kids played since the cabin was already clean and the next guests weren’t checking in until early afternoon. She’d had two uneventful weekend days with no sign of Lorne Haggedorn/Barrymore hanging around her front steps.

Still, she kept looking out the front window every now and then, checking to see if anyone was headed her way. Not that they would be, of course. But still.

While there was no sign of Lorne Barrymore, what she saw when she looked out the window at mid-morning was almost as unsettling. A valkyrie was striding across her meadow.

The woman had to be at least six feet tall. Jess considered herself to be a tall woman at five ten, and at one point in her life she’d been in very good shape, at least athletically. The valkyrie, on the other hand, was in the kind of shape that probably stopped all conversation when she entered a room, at least among the men. Her bright red hair was mostly held up on top of her head by a plastic banana clip, although strands had begun to come loose and float around her face. She wore blue jeans and a cambric shirt that looked butter soft. And her expression seemed to indicate she was not a woman to mess with.

Jess opened the door as she reached the front porch, and Daisy rocketed through beneath her arm. “Aunt Docia!” she shrieked. “Come meet Jack. We’re playing blocks. You can help.”

The woman caught Daisy up around her waist, half-tossing her into the air. “Hey, pumpkin! It’s good to see you.”

She turned to Jess, tucking Daisy neatly under one arm and extending her hand. “Hi. You must be Jess. I’m Docia Toleffson, Cal’s wife, Daisy’s aunt.”

Jess took her hand a little warily, wondering why Docia Toleffson had taken it upon herself to visit her niece in the middle of the morning.

Docia didn’t seem to notice, maybe because Daisy had squirmed out of her arms and was pulling her across the room as soon as she stepped inside the door. “C’mon, Aunt Docia. Come see Jack.”

Jack had crawled halfway off his blanket, trying to catch Daisy when she’d run away. Now he sat back on his haunches and grinned up at Docia Toleffson, hopelessly in love once again.

Lordy, at this rate, the kid was going to have his heart broken multiple times by the time he was ten.

Docia knelt beside him, her lips spreading in a soft grin. “Hi, Jack,” she murmured. “Aren’t you a sweetie!”

Jack giggled, reaching dimpled fingers toward her face.

“Careful,” Jess cautioned. “He loves hair and I don’t think he’s ever seen anything quite like yours before.”

Docia slowly moved her forehead close to Jack’s, pulling loose the banana clip to let her scarlet hair hang free. “You like redheads, Jack?”

“Jack likes everybody,” Daisy sang.

Jack grabbed handfuls of hair on either side of Docia’s face, chortling in delight, then pulled her closer.

Docia leaned forward, pursing her lips. “Boy, you are one strong baby!”

Jess winced. Nobody ever seemed to believe that Jack could pull hair as hard as he did. She knelt beside Docia, loosening Jack’s fingers. “C’mon, kid. You’ve had your fun. Go play blocks with Daisy now.”

Reluctantly, Jack let go, then settled back on his rear again, watching as Daisy began to pile wooden blocks in front of him.

Docia grinned at her. “Boy’s got quite a grip! Probably a major career in tug of war.” She stood, brushing her hands on her knees.

Jess took a deep breath and tried to remember how to be a hostess. She hadn’t done it for over a year. “Would you like some coffee? Or did you want to take Daisy somewhere? Mr. Toleffson didn’t mention anything about it this morning, but I could call him. I’m sure it would be all right.”

Docia shook her head. “I’d love to take Daisy with me, but I can’t. I’m due back at the bookstore in ten or fifteen minutes. I just wanted to meet you since I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh?” Jess stared at her, trying not to hear alarm bells. What was Lars Toleffson saying? And to whom?

“Daisy talks about you and Jack all the time,” Docia explained. “You’re her main topic of conversation these days.”

Jess wondered if she looked as much like a moron as she felt. “Daisy’s terrific. She’s great with Jack. I think he’s in love.”

Docia chuckled. “Those Toleffsons tend to do that. People are always falling in love with them. I should know.” Her smile became a little crooked. “We’re so glad Lars decided to settle up here, finally. Now Daisy’s got a whole pack of uncles and aunts to spoil her.”

Jess felt a quick pang. Jack wouldn’t ever have that. No uncles to play with him. No grandparents to fuss. Just his mother, who was doing her best to make sure the only family Jack had left never got their claws into him.

“Are you from around here, Jess?” Docia raised a questioning eyebrow.

Jess shook her head. “We’re from back east. But we haven’t lived there in a while.” Good wishy-washy answer .

“No family nearby?”

Jess shook her head again. “What about you?”

“My mama and daddy live in San Antonio. Pete’s wife Janie is actually from Konigsburg. The guys’ parents are in Iowa but they’re talking about moving down here since everybody else in the family already has.”

“That’s nice,” Jess murmured absently.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Docia’s eyes narrowed a little, then she grinned as she turned back to watch Daisy and Jack. “Anyway, we’ve got lots of relatives all over the place what with Toleffsons and Kents and Duprees.”

Jess suddenly made the connection. “Is your husband the veterinarian?”

Docia nodded. “He’s a partner in the clinic over on West. If you have any pets, he’s your man.”

“I don’t, but…” Jess watched Jack pick up a block, pushing it toward Daisy. “Well, I was thinking about maybe getting a puppy. I mean, we’re sort of isolated out here. But I don’t know what kind of dog to look for, what with Jack and Daisy.”

“Cal could help you. He’s always got puppies and kittens he’s trying to place so they won’t have to go to the pound in Kerrville.”

“Maybe I’ll talk to him.”

“So if you don’t have any family around here, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?” Docia glanced back at her.

“Helping out with the tourists here—I think we’ve got a full house. Isn’t that the busy season in town? I know the cabin’s booked all weekend.”

Docia nodded. “Right, the beginning of the nightmare that is the Christmas shopping season. But surely they won’t need you on Thanksgiving Day. The guests will have their own plans, right?”

Jess’s wariness rose again. “Maybe. I guess so. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Good.” Docia nodded decisively. “You can come have Thanksgiving with all of us. Daisy will love having Jack around and you can have some adult time.”

“Oh, but…no. I mean, it’s your family,” Jess stammered.

Docia waved a hand. “There’ll be people who aren’t family, too. A couple of them, anyway. Please. It would really be great if you came. Daisy would be so happy.”

Jess stared at Jack as he played on his blanket, trying to ignore just how much she suddenly wanted a day where she had a family too.

Having a family could be dangerous. The Morelands took advantage of families. And friends. “I don’t know…”

“Come on,” Docia wheedled. “It’ll be fun. We’ll make you an honorary Toleffson.”

Jess felt small fingers close around her hand and looked down to see Daisy’s huge brown eyes staring up at her. “Please, Mrs. Carroll. Jack’ll like it.”

Jess closed her eyes for a moment. Daisy was absolutely right. Jack probably would like it.

“Okay.” She sighed. “We’ll be there.”

Janie Dupree Toleffson glanced up as Docia walked through the front door of Kent’s Hill Country Books. “So? Did you meet her?”

“Yeah. Daisy ran out and dragged me into the house. Ms. Carroll didn’t have much choice about it.” Docia pulled off her jacket and dropped it behind the front counter.

“So?” Janie’s forehead furrowed. “What do you think? What’s she like?”

Docia shrugged. “Quiet. Good with kids. Sort of reserved, but that might have been because this perfect stranger descended on her out of the blue.”

“I should have gone with you.”

“Right.” Docia stepped out from behind the counter and pushed a cardboard paperback display slightly closer to the wall. “That’s all she’d need—the two Toleffson brides showing up on her doorstep trembling with curiosity. That wouldn’t be too disconcerting.”

“Pete’s still worried about Lars.”

“I know. So’s Cal.”

“It just seems like…” Janie waved her hand. “Shouldn’t he be over this by now? I mean Sherice is history, thank god. So shouldn’t he be able to move on to better things? It’s not like we’ve been trying to fix him up with losers or something.”

“I don’t think he wants to be fixed up.” Docia squinted as she studied the display. “Maybe he wants to find somebody on his own. Besides, Cal thinks he’s still shell-shocked. I mean, he made the mother of all bad decisions when he married Sherice. Cal says it was the only impulsive decision Lars has ever made. You know what he’s like.”

Janie nodded. “A really sweet guy, but a little…conventional. Somebody who weighs his options and goes for safe.”

“Right. Cal says he’s always been the one brother everybody counted on to be sane and responsible and sort of predictable.”

“Lord knows Pete isn’t.”

“Neither is Cal—well, not exactly.” Docia’s grin faded slightly. “So here you have this very responsible guy who makes this one really irresponsible choice for a bride and has to live with the consequences for the rest of his life. It’s going to take him a while to start trusting his own judgment again.”

Janie snorted. “It’s not like he’s going to choose another Sherice. He’s smarter than that.”

“You know that and I know that. But I’m not sure Lars knows that. Or anyway that he believes it.”

“So he’s going to become a monk?” Janie shook her head. “That’s not going to help him or Daisy.”

Docia started to move another display, then stopped. She always rearranged things when she was anxious, and she usually ended up having to put everything back later.

“So getting back to Jessamyn Carroll. Is she pretty?” Janie leaned against the counter. “I’ve never seen her close up.”

“She’s nice looking. Not a knock-out, but after Sherice, knock-outs probably don’t do much for him. Blonde, green eyes, good figure.” She paused, chewing her lip as she studied the display again. “How’s the traffic been this morning?”

“Slow. About usual for this early in the week. How are the dog biscuits coming?” Janie widened her eyes, trying to look innocent.

Docia groaned. “Don’t even mention dog biscuits to me. Cal and I have baked up about twenty dozen of the things over the past two nights. If they don’t sell, we’ll be feeding them to Pep and Olive for the next five years.”

“How do you want to wrap them?”

Docia gave her a slow grin. “That’s your department, toots. Cal and I baked, you and Pete can wrap. I’ve got some red and green cellophane and twist ties. And stickers.”

“Stickers?” Janie rolled her eyes. “I haven’t played with stickers since I was ten.”

“Welcome to middle school. We’ve only got a couple of weeks until the festival.”

Janie grimaced, then stood to check out a tourist in a turquoise sweat suit with appliquéd autumn leaves.

Docia watched the tourist’s considerable rear end as she exited the store. “Jess Carroll also has the cutest baby in the world. Bar none. Jack. Daisy’s absolutely besotted, and she should be.”

She looked down at Janie, almost defiantly.

Janie met her gaze. “It’ll happen, Docia. It’s just biology.”

“Yeah.” Docia blew out a breath. “Unfortunately, I never was much good at science.”

“Honey, don’t worry.” Janie grinned. “You both have the right equipment.”

Docia felt her cheeks heating up. “Janie, for heaven’s sake, we’ve got customers.”

“Yep.” Janie’s grin was unrepentant. “So you think Jess Carroll might be interested in Lars?”

“Who knows?” Docia pushed the display to the left again, only half-thinking about it. “I did ask her to Thanksgiving, though.”

“Did you? Cool! Wonder if Lars will be happy about it.”

Docia shrugged. “My guess is he won’t be un happy.” She nudged the display again.

Janie stepped around the counter and removed Docia’s hands from the cardboard. “You’ve moved that thing three times now. It looks just fine where it is.”

“Does it?” Docia narrowed her eyes. “Maybe. I need to reorganize the storeroom anyway.”

She turned toward the back of the shop, hearing Janie’s faint sigh as she left.

For the second time in less than a week, Lars managed to have a beer with his brothers at the Dew Drop. Daisy had demanded to be taken to see Docia and Janie, and her aunts had swooped her away to what they called the “children’s book nook”.

Now Lars sat at the same booth where they always sat, taking an occasional sip of his beer and watching the ebb and flow of Konigsburg males, all still trying to adjust to the presence of Ingstrom’s barmaids.

Terrell Biedermeier hunched on his barstool, holding his beer protectively against his chest. Lars had the feeling he was trying very hard not to glance at Ruby’s tattooed shoulder immediately to his left. On Ruby’s other side, Ken Ferguson had a terrific view of her cleavage reflected in the mirror above the bar. Lars figured it was only a matter of time before Ruby flattened him. He just hoped she did it during one of his own infrequent visits to the bar. The entertainment value alone would be worth the price of a couple of beers.

Wonder dropped onto the booth beside Pete, frowning in Cal’s general direction. “So? Any luck with Docia?”

Cal shook his head. “You’re on your own with this one, Wonder. The women all think you got yourself into this hole with that lame-brained proposal, and you need to dig yourself out. Docia said she’s not going to talk to Allie about it until Allie brings it up herself. And if that happens, I wouldn’t count on her being on your side.”

Wonder rested his chin on his hands, the corners of his mouth drooping. “Terrific. All I ask is for somebody to run a little interference, and this is the thanks I get.”

Pete shrugged. “Tell her you’re sorry. Beg her pardon. Give her a ring. Tell her you’re nuts about her. How hard can that be?”

Wonder closed his eyes, sighing. “You have no idea.”

“Nope, I don’t.” Cal waved in Dahlia’s general direction. “Telling the woman you love that you love her seems like a pretty straight-forward deal.”

“Thanks, oh great and powerful wizard,” Wonder snapped. “I should have come to you earlier.”

“Yep, you should.” Cal gestured toward the table as Dahlia approached. “Two Lone Stars, a Spaten, a Dos Equis and a crying towel for the dentist.”

Dahlia narrowed her eyes at him, then turned on her heel.

“The ring idea has some merit, though.” Wonder looked thoughtful. “Maybe I’ll go over to Logsdon’s jewelry store and see what he’s got. Prove my gravitas, as it were.”

Pete blew a raspberry. “Wonder, the ring will only work if it comes accompanied by an apology and a declaration. You cannot buy yourself out of this one.”

“Then again, maybe I’ll buy her a frying pan,” Wonder mused. “Last time we were in Austin, she got all misty-eyed over an All-Clad twelve-inch skillet.”

Cal shook his head. “Man, you are on the verge of becoming pathetic.”

“On the verge?” Pete scoffed.

“Look, you’re going to have to beg her pardon. And I do mean beg.” Cal reached out to take the beers as Dahlia returned to the table, then dug into his pocket. “Anybody got a five?”

Lars dropped a five into his outstretched palm, while Pete and Wonder dropped in singles to make nine.

“What about you?” Wonder turned to Lars. “Want to take your turn giving me a kick in the pants?”

Lars picked up his beer. “Are you actually asking me for romantic advice, Wonder? Seriously?”

There was a moment of silence at the table. Lars watched Wonder’s usually pasty complexion turn faintly pink. He actually looked better embarrassed.

“Holy crap,” Pete muttered.

Lars blinked at him, then realized he was staring at the door. He turned to see a familiar silhouette heading across the Dew Drop in their general direction.

Beside him, Cal tensed, then blew out a slow breath. “Hi, Erik.”

Erik stopped next to the table, removing his Stetson. “Evening.”

Pete slid over, wordlessly. After a moment’s hesitation, Erik sat beside him, then turned toward Lars. “I found your guy. Or I found where he was earlier, anyway.”

Cal frowned. “What guy?”

“Later.” Lars leaned forward. “So what did he say?”

Erik shook his head. “He wasn’t there. He’s registered at the Elite Motel out on 16. Lorne Haggedorn, right?”

“That’s what he told me. Has he gone?”

“Not that I could tell. The motel clerk said he hadn’t checked out, but he didn’t know where he’d gone or when.” Erik shrugged. “I’ll keep an eye out for him now I know where to look.”

“Did the clerk know anything about him?”

Erik gave him a dry smile. “The clerk looked to be about fifteen or so. I had to get him to unplug his iPod so he could talk to me. My guess is he wouldn’t know Haggedorn if he tripped over him.”

“Who’s Haggedorn?” Cal asked again. “What have I been missing?”

Lars sighed. “Long boring story. Thanks, Erik.”

Erik shrugged. “No problem.”

“You want a beer?” Dahlia stood next to the table, a pencil stuck behind one metal-studded ear, her gaze locked on Erik.

Lars glanced at him again. Erik looked like all the rest of them. Tall, broad, dark hair, dark eyes. Only he looked sort of weathered, like he’d been dragged down a long dusty road for a while.

Erik shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m on duty.”

Dahlia narrowed her eyes, as if she’d just noticed the Konigsburg Police patch on his shoulder for the first time. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Erik pushed himself up from the table, then turned back to his brothers. “Good seeing you.”

All three of them nodded back, sort of like a collection of king-size bobble heads.

Erik started back toward the door, but Cal leaned after him. “Hey, Erik.”

Erik paused. “Yeah?”

“You doing anything for Thanksgiving? Dinner’s at my house.”

For a moment, Lars thought he saw a smile playing around Erik’s mouth. Then he slid his Stetson back on his head. “I’m on duty, but I’ll see if I can drop by.” He turned again and walked toward the door, nodding at Dahlia as he left.

Dahlia stared after him, her jaw slack.

“Damn,” Wonder murmured, studying her. “Maybe I should take lessons from the four of you.”

Pete tipped his bottle to his lips. “Wonder, just apologize, okay? And tell her how you feel about her. This whole thing is getting way out of hand.”

Wonder sighed. “A ring. Or maybe a skillet.”

Cal closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I wash my hands of you.”

Chapter Eight

The cool air on the back of Jess’s neck woke her. She checked the clock on the computer—nine-thirty. She’d fallen asleep at her desk again, something she’d already done a couple of times over the past week. There were only a few changes left to make on Synchronicity. It would take an hour or so, assuming she could stay conscious that long. She stood, yawning. Must be an open window somewhere.

And suddenly she was wide awake, frozen in place, her heart pounding. There were no open windows in her house in November. She knew that for a fact.

At least none that she’d opened herself.

She reached behind her desk for the baseball bat she’d begun keeping there after Lorne Barrymore’s visit. Was it Barrymore? Why would he come back at night? Jess started inching toward the hall that led to the bedrooms.

Shadows cloaked the dining room and the kitchen—the only light she’d left burning was in the living room, and it reflected dimly over the dining room walls. Jess moved carefully along the side of the room, narrowing her eyes to see into the faint light. Cool air brushed across her face from the open window.

One mystery solved. She knew damn well she hadn’t left the dining room window open when she’d started working on the site. She tightened her grip on the bat, moving closer to the bedrooms.

The bedrooms where Jack was sleeping.

She felt a quick surge of panic, making her throat clench. Stop it! You don’t have time for this. Cool air from the window played along the back of her neck. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself together, then moved into the hall as quietly as she could.

Darkness enveloped her again, more total here. None of the light from the living room reached this far. She fumbled her hand along the wall, trying to find the light switch.

The blow to her shoulder sent her stumbling backward. Jess squawked in surprise and pain as the bat slipped from her fingers onto the floor with a thump. A shadowy figure brushed past her, shoving her hard against the wall as it did. Jess clawed at a sleeve, feeling muscle and bone underneath. The intruder jerked away, backhanding her hard across the face.

Sparks danced in front of her eyes, but she lurched to her feet again, turning back toward the dining room. “Son of a bitch,” she gasped, stumbling after the dimly moving shadow until she heard a thin wail behind her.

“Jack,” she whispered. “Oh, Christ, Jack!” She turned and ran back down the hall toward the bedrooms.

The door to Jack’s room was closed. Jess pushed through, muttering, “Please be all right, please, please, please.” In his room, Jack clung to the side of his crib, his wails increasing as he saw her. She scooped him into her arms, fighting back the wave of nausea roiling through her stomach.

She sank to the floor, holding him against her chest, feeling his breathing calm to a series of gasping sobs. “It’s okay,” she murmured, rubbing his back. “It’s all okay.” She leaned her forehead against the crib rail, trying to catch her breath, knowing she was a fool and a fraud.

Things in Konigsburg, Texas, had never been less okay, at least not for the Carroll family.

Lars knew he should go to bed. It was after ten. He had to get up at six tomorrow, if Daisy didn’t get him up sooner than that—as she probably would. Nothing in the report he was writing had to be done tonight.

Still he kept doggedly hitting keys. He was going to finish one thing before he went to bed. Even if it was so boring he was ready to doze on top of his keyboard.

The buzz of his cell phone jolted him back to consciousness. He glanced at the number. Jess Carroll.

Jess Carroll? At this time of night? Please, please, please don’t have a sick kid that will make me send Daisy to Wee Care. The thought of the logistical nightmare that scenario would involve made his blood run cold. He hit the connect button. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Toleffson? Lars?”

Lars frowned. Her voice sounded muffled, scratchy. Oh lord, maybe she was the one who was sick! That was worse—adults took longer than kids to bounce back. Daisy could be in Wee Care for a couple of weeks. “What’s up, Jess?”

“You said…” Lars could hear her breathing. She sounded as if she’d been running. “You said if I was frightened or upset about something, I could call.”

Lars felt ice drip down his spine. “What’s wrong, Jess? Is someone out there? Did you hear something?”

“Someone…broke in.” She took a deep breath. “I fell asleep at my desk. He was in the hall.” Another deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have called the police. I didn’t mean…”

“Are you all right?” Lars gripped the phone so tightly his fingers tingled. “Is Jack okay?”

“We’re okay. Just a little…shaken up, I guess. I’ll call the police now.”

Lars closed his eyes. “Do that. I’ll be there in ten or fifteen minutes, as soon as I can get Daisy over to my brother’s house.”

“No, that’s okay, you don’t have to…”

“Yes, I do,” Lars cut in. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Fortunately for all concerned, Daisy could sleep through just about anything, including being bundled up in a quilt and dropped into the arms of an astonished Pete.

“I’ll be back,” Lars promised.

“Right.” Pete gave him a dry semi-smile. “Just leave her with us overnight. And tomorrow morning you can tell me what the hell’s going on.”

Lars pulled into the clearing at the Lone Oak right behind a Konigsburg cop car. He wasn’t altogether surprised to see Erik get out. It was that kind of night.

Erik nodded at him, unsmiling. “You know anything about this?”

“Probably less than you do.” Lars started walking across the meadow, trying to keep from running. “Jess said somebody broke in.”

“You’re thinking Lorne Haggedorn?” Erik raised an eyebrow as he paced along at Lars’s side.

“I don’t know. Maybe. At this point, I don’t know what I should be thinking.”

Erik raised his fist to knock on the door. “What you should be thinking is, my brother is a cop and I’ll let him handle this.”

Lars blew out a slightly irritated breath. “Right. Believe me, I’ve got no intention of getting in your way here.”

Or he hadn’t until he saw Jess Carroll’s face when she opened the door. One cheek was bruised, showing dark red against the dead-white pallor of her face. Her skin looked paper thin, as if it might crack. She held Jack tight against her chest, her arms wrapped around his sleeping body.

She looked at Erik and swallowed hard, blinking. Then she glanced at Lars.

“It’s okay,” he blurted. “This is my brother Erik. He’s a cop.”

Erik gave him a look that said volumes about his current assessment of Lars’s IQ.

“Come in, please.” Jess stepped back. “I’m sorry, I’m just sort of disorganized right now.” She walked ahead of them into the living room, sinking onto a rocking chair. Lars didn’t think she’d loosened her grip on Jack since he’d stepped inside.

Erik sat on the couch, pulling a notebook out of his jacket pocket. “Can you tell me what happened, ma’am?”

Jess closed her eyes, as if she were gathering herself together. Then she looked up at Erik. “I fell asleep at my desk after I put Jack to bed. When I woke up, I felt cool air on the back of my neck. I went into the dining room to check and the window was open.”

“You didn’t leave it that way, I guess.” Erik glanced at her as he wrote.

Jess shook her head. “No, I didn’t. I started down the hall to Jack’s room and somebody…hit me.” She swallowed hard again. “He thumped my shoulder so that I fell back against the wall, and then he took off. I tried to catch hold of him, but he got away from me. That’s when he did this.” She pointed toward the bruise on her cheek.

Lars stared at her, caught between irritation and shock. “You tried to catch hold of him? For god’s sake, Jess! He could have had a knife, or a gun.”

“I know.” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead. “I wasn’t thinking, I guess.”

“Can you describe him?”

Erik’s voice sounded remarkably calm under the circumstances. Lars felt like snarling.

Jess shook her head. “I didn’t really see him. It was just a shadow. And after he hit me, I went down. I didn’t see him leave.”

Lars’s shoulder muscles clenched. After he hit me.

“Did he go back out the window?”

“No.” Jess swallowed again. “He left the front door open.”

“Okay.” Erik flipped over a new page. “Tell me what you do know. Was it a man?”

Jess started to nod, then stopped. “I thought so,” she mused. “But I guess I’m not sure. It could have been a woman as easily as a man. But she had a hell of a punch.” Jess ran her fingers over her cheek.

“When you grabbed him, what did you grab?”

“His arm. That’s how he could shake me off.”

“How was he dressed?”

Jess blinked. “I couldn’t see him.”

“I know,” Erik said patiently, “but what did it feel like to you when you grabbed him? Leather jacket? Denim? Bare skin?”

Jess shuddered. “No. It was a jacket. Some kind of leather. I felt some metal studs on the sleeve.”

Erik nodded, writing in his notebook. “Okay, any idea of general size? Tall, short, heavy, skinny, like that?”

“I was on the floor.” Jess shook her head. “I can’t give you any idea of height, sorry. The arm wasn’t fat, but there were muscles.”

“Did you see the silhouette when he headed down the hall?”

Jess closed her eyes, thinking. “Yes. But he was all bundled up. I can’t tell you much about him.”

Erik leaned back against the couch again, his gaze meeting Jess’s. “Could it have been Lorne Haggedorn?”

Jess glanced at Lars, her eyes widening.

“I asked Erik to check Haggedorn out,” he explained. “I didn’t know if he’d done anything illegal.”

“He hadn’t then.” Erik shrugged. “If he did this, he’s definitely crossed the line.”

Jess sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t say one way or the other, to tell you the truth. It could have been him, but I don’t know for sure. I just had one glance at him before he was gone.”

“Right.” Erik pushed himself up from the couch. “Show me where it happened.”

Lars extended a hand to Jess as she struggled to her feet. “Let me take Jack, so you can show him.”

Jess stared at him, her eyes wide.

“It’s okay. I’ve held a baby before. I won’t hurt him.”

She stood rooted for a moment longer, her eyes full of panic. Then she nodded, her expression becoming blank. “Sure. Okay, thanks.”

Lars gathered the baby into his arms, the warm body sprawling against his chest, then watched as she followed Erik.

Erik paused at the entrance to the hall, reaching for the light switch. “Down here?”

Jess nodded. “It was just around the bend. The light from the living room doesn’t reach that far.”

Erik switched on the light, illuminating the hallway, then knelt to look at the carpet. “That where it happened?”

Lars squinted and saw a series of slight scuff marks on the carpet surface.

“I guess so. Yeah, it must have been.” She pointed to a mark on the baseboard. “I scuffed my shoe there when I went down.”

Erik pulled out his cell phone, pointed at the hall, and began clicking. He glanced back at Lars. “Didn’t think to bring my camera, but I can download these.”

Lars shifted Jack to his other shoulder. “Could you trace the guy this way?”

Erik’s look showed he’d just revised his already-modest estimate of Lars’s IQ downward by a couple of points. “No, Lars, they’re just scuff marks. Not footprints.”

Beside him, Lars saw the corners of Jess’s mouth edge up slightly. Terrific. Erik was amusing her. On the other hand, a smile was a smile. And it was a hell of a lot better than her expression had been in the living room.

Erik stood again. “Did he take anything out of any of these rooms?”

Jess shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“So what’s down this hall? What was he after?”

Jess’s slight smile disappeared abruptly. “Bedrooms.” Her voice was faint. “Nothing special.”

Erik glanced back at her. “You keep any money in there? Jewelry.”

Jess shook her head again. “My purse was next to the desk. And I don’t have any jewelry to speak of besides my rings.”

Lars glanced at her hand. A plain gold wedding band with a small diamond engagement ring.

“When Barrymore was here, did he see this hall?”

“No. He never got inside the house.”

“Had the intruder gotten into any of the rooms down here?”

It didn’t seem possible for Jess to get any paler, but Lars thought she just had. She reached one hand to the wall beside her, as if she were steadying herself. “No. All the doors were closed.”

“Right.” Erik nodded slowly as he wrote another note. He turned back toward the living room again, herding Jess and Lars in front of him.

“Okay. I’m going to write this up as breaking and entering. If you find anything missing, let me know. And if anything else happens call me right away.” He pulled a card out of his pocket, writing quickly. “That’s my cell. And that’s the number for the station. If you call there and nobody’s around, it’ll be forwarded to whoever’s on duty.”

Jess nodded, licking her lips. “Thank you. I’ll put it with my phone.”

Erik glanced at Lars, then shrugged. “That’s about all I can do tonight. But you keep in touch, Ms. Carroll. And keep your eyes open. Take care now.” He settled his Stetson on his head again and left.

Jess turned to Lars, extending her arms, and his heart rate abruptly speeded up. It took him a moment to remember he was still holding Jack splayed against the front of his shirt. He gathered the sleeping baby into his arms and handed him to his mother.

Jack muttered in his sleep, then settled back against Jess’s shoulder.

“Was he awake for all of this?”

“Most of it.” Jess looked down at her son, chewing on her lower lip. “The noise woke him.”

The lamplight caught the gold of her hair, glowing in the dimness of the living room. She glanced up at him again, her eyes a deep green in the shadows, her lips pressed into a thin line.

The wave of arousal caught him off guard. He swallowed hard. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, taste those lips, make her smile again.

Jack whimpered.

Right. The logistics of seducing a woman carrying a baby in her arms hadn’t occurred to him. Lars closed his eyes. He was way too old for hormonal attacks, and he was clearly losing his mind.

“Lars?” Jess’s voice was soft. “Is everything okay?”

He blew out a breath. “No, it’s not. We’ve got some crazy shit going on.” And some of it’s between us. Lars told his gonads to give it a rest.

“I know. Thank you for coming out here. It helped to have somebody I knew.” She glanced around the room again.

He really should be going. Lars knew it, but somehow he couldn’t seem to get his feet moving. “Would you like to stay somewhere else tonight? My brother and sister-in-law live in this weird house with eight or nine bedrooms. They could put you and Jack up.”

“Is that Docia and her husband?”

Lars blinked at her. “You know Docia?”

“She came by the house.” Jess shifted Jack to her other shoulder. “She said her husband could help me find a puppy. Sort of a junior watchdog.”

Lars nodded, feeling a little dizzy. His family was already two steps ahead of him, as usual. “Yeah, Cal could probably find you something. He runs this kind of pet adoption service on the side. So Docia came out here?”

“She wanted to see Jack. I guess Daisy’s been telling her about him.”

Right. Daisy would. Thus providing Docia with the perfect excuse to check Jess out. He was only surprised Janie hadn’t come with her. That would probably happen later.

“Docia and Cal live out on the edge of town. Pete and Janie live next door to me. And the offer’s still open. I could even bunk with Pete and Janie and you and Jack could take my house.”

Jess shook her head. “No, that’s okay. We’ll stay here. I’ve made sure all the windows are locked now, and I’ll lock the door behind you.”

Lars looked up at the dining room window—a square of dark night, showing nothing beyond it. It seemed amazingly fragile. “You’re sure you won’t be nervous?”

“Of course, I’ll be nervous.” Jess rubbed her hand across Jack’s back. “But I won’t let him drive me out of my own house. I’ve got a job to do out here—some guests will be showing up for the cabin tomorrow.”

Her hands tightened on Jack again, her jaw becoming taut. Another quick jolt of desire hit Lars. Terrific . Now he was getting turned on by her determination. Way past time to go.

“Okay,” he mumbled. “Call me if you need me. I’ll bring Daisy by later tomorrow so the two of you can sleep.”

Her smile turned dry. “Jack’s sleeping fine. I’m the one who’ll probably sit up all night.”

Lars paused in the doorway. “Offer’s still open. You can have my house.” And me. He gave himself a mental headbutt. Totally inappropriate, Toleffson.

“Thanks.” She gave him another half smile. “I appreciate it.”

Lars backed out the door, trying for a friendly farewell grin. Way, way, way past time to go. The last thing he saw was Jess, framed in the doorway, Jack slack in her arms, as the door closed.

Lars headed slowly back up the drive, his gaze darting over the dark shapes of live oaks and cedar in the mini-forest that surrounded the cabin. Near the entrance to the highway, he saw a dim shape alongside the road. Adrenaline coursed through him before he realized it was a Konigsburg police car. He rolled down his window.

“Everything okay?”

Erik glanced at him. “Yeah. Thought I’d keep watch for a while. Just see if anything develops. I’m off-duty in another hour, and they can always call me if something comes up back at the station.”

Lars stared at him a moment, then shook his head. “So what do you think? Burglary?”

Erik shrugged. “That would be the easiest explanation.”

“But…”

Erik shrugged again. “But she doesn’t strike me as the most likely target. Something feels off here. You have any idea what your lady friend’s hiding?”

Lars thought about telling him Jess wasn’t his lady friend, but decided to skip it. “No. But you’re right. Something’s behind this, and I don’t know what it is.”

“If you think of anything…” Erik leaned back against his seat.

Ice slid down Lars’s spine again. A series of unpleasant possibilities flashed through his brain—robberies gone bad, thieves falling out, even kidnapping. Was Jack really Jess’s son? Was there any way he could find out? He nodded. “Yeah. I’ll let you know.”

Assuming that it wasn’t something that would get Jess Carroll thrown in the slammer.

Lydia suspected the call was supposed to wake her up. Other people were asleep at five in the morning. She’d been waking at four since before she’d turned sixty.

She picked up the cell on the second ring. “It took you long enough,” she snapped. “I’ve left four messages.”

“I do have things to do, Mrs. Moreland. Things relating to your grandson. Surely you’d rather I concentrate on them than spend my time on the phone with you.” The contractor’s electronic voice sounded less amused than annoyed this time.

Good. She had no intention of amusing anyone. “I want a report on your progress.”

“My progress is my business.” The voice was definitely annoyed now. “I’ll contact you when I’ve accomplished my objective.”

“Oh please—your progress is very much my business.” She took a sip of her coffee. The conversation was becoming amusing from her point of view, at least. “It involves my grandson. I want to ensure his safety.”

There was a lengthy pause on the other end of the line. For a moment, she wondered if the contractor had had the temerity to hang up on her. If so, that last expense check would be stopped immediately.

“You want to ensure your grandson’s safety,” the voice murmured. “Am I to assume you don’t feel the same way about his mother?”

Lydia’s breath quickened. Her fingers tightened on the handle of her coffee cup. She knew precisely what she was being asked. “His mother’s safety is her own affair,” she said carefully. “I have no interest in it one way or the other.”

“In fact—” the voice had taken on that irritating touch of amusement again, “—if his mother were to meet with an accident of some kind it would simplify things for you greatly, wouldn’t it?”

She swallowed hard. She really hated being this explicit, particularly on a cell phone. “I believe his mother has no living relatives. The Moreland family would, of course, assume responsibility for the child should anything happen to his mother.”

She heard a brief puff of breath, perhaps a chuckle, perhaps not. “Very well, then. I think we understand each other Mrs. Moreland.”

“Perhaps we do.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll expect another progress report tomorrow.”

After a moment, she realized she was speaking to empty air.

Chapter Nine

Jess spent what was left of the night on Jack’s floor, pretending she could sleep curled up in a blanket on the rag rug. Sometime in the early morning she slipped into a sort of semi-conscious state that was as much like sleep as she could get under the circumstances.

You could be sleeping in Lars Toleffson’s house, with Lars and Daisy right next door.

Her shoulders tightened. She’d come as close to trusting Lars Toleffson as she’d come to trusting anyone over the past two years. But trust wasn’t something she gave easily these days. Better to be untrusting if it kept Jack safe.

A combination of sunlight on her face and Jack’s excited squeals woke her at seven-thirty. Jack was clearly delighted to find his mother stretched out on the floor beside his crib. Giggling, he stretched his hands between the rails, trying to touch her face.

Jess pushed herself to her feet, straightening out the kinks in her back and legs. “Morning, kid. Nice to see at least one of us has no ill effects from last night.”

He pulled himself up on the crib rails and reached for her urgently.

“Okay, okay,” she muttered, yawning. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”

A hour later, she’d managed to wash her face and run a comb through her hair. Jack was in his “greet the day” mode. His face scrunched in concentration as he crawled across the living room floor, reaching for a sunbeam.

Jess checked quickly to make sure she’d removed any low-lying items that had gotten misplaced the night before. The length of his reach seemed to increase daily.

She’d just moved a stack of Wired past issues to a slightly higher shelf when she heard a car in the drive. Lars and Daisy.

She took a deep breath. At the moment she wasn’t sure she had enough energy to cope with Jack, let alone Jack and Daisy together. But it wasn’t like she had a lot of choices.

“Morning,” she sighed as she opened the door.

Daisy galloped past her, backpack bumping against her rear. Lars stepped inside. “Slow down, Daisy. Don’t run into Jack.”

“I won’t,” Daisy sang, ignoring both of them as she dropped to the floor.

Jack grinned at her and stretched toward her curls. Daisy feinted left, grabbing a handful of Legos.

“So.” Lars narrowed his eyes. “You look like you could use a few more hours of sleep.”

“And you don’t look like you have any you could spare.” Jess stifled a yawn. “I’m hoping Daisy and Jack will both take a long nap this afternoon.”

Lars nodded absently. “I wouldn’t count on it. Daisy’s revved up. Are you really interested in a puppy?”

“Yeah. Very interested. Particularly one that could make a lot of noise.” From the corner of her eye, Jess noted that Daisy had dropped the Legos and turned toward her father.

“Okay. Let me take you and the herd to Cal’s place this afternoon. I can tell him we’re coming.”

“A puppy!” Daisy’s voice rang out. “We’re getting a puppy!”

“Settle down,” Lars said automatically. “Ms. Carroll may be getting a puppy. And you have to show Jack how to treat it. You know what Uncle Cal says.”

“No pulling ears or tails,” Daisy repeated mechanically. “No screaming. No chasing.”

“No squeezing,” Lars added.

Daisy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“All right then.” Lars turned back to Jess. “Would that work?”

“Sure, I guess. What time?”

“Around four, if Cal’s free. We’ll probably both be ready for a break by then.”

Jess was ready for a break by one. Daisy was bubbling with excitement both at the possible puppy and the trip to see her uncle. Jack fed off her mood and was burned out and cranky by lunchtime. Neither of them wanted to go down for a nap. Jess read what seemed like the complete works of Dr. Seuss before Jack dropped off and then another round of Winnie the Pooh to anesthetize Daisy.

Then she fell across her own bed and slept until Jack roused her a couple of hours later.

Lars pulled into her driveway at ten after four. “Cal says to come on over. He thinks he’s got just what you need. Of course, with Cal that could mean anything from a Shih Tzu with eczema to a timid Great Dane.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “You want me to follow you in my car so you won’t have to carry the dog?”

Lars shrugged toward his SUV. “I’ve carried worse, believe me. Let’s all drive together. It’ll be simpler. Trust me—Daisy will want to ride with the dog no matter who’s driving.”

“And Jack will want to ride with Daisy. Okay, let me switch his car seat over to your car.”

Jess wondered if Lars would need to tie Daisy down—she was almost ready to fly when they reached the clinic parking lot. But once they stepped inside the large, open waiting room, she seemed to remember what her father had told her about behaving herself in the clinic.

“Hi, Mrs. Rankin,” she trilled to the woman in purple scrubs behind the front counter.

Mrs. Rankin grinned, pushing a strand of brown hair out of her eyes. “Why Daisy Toleffson, I do declare. You’ve grown two inches since you were in last month.”

“No, I haven’t.” Daisy looked offended. “I’m little. I play on the slipper slide.”

Mrs. Rankin glanced at the plastic play set tucked in a corner of the waiting area. “Of course you do, sweetheart. You’re just the right size.”

“Hey, Lars.”

Jess blinked. The man who walked through the door to the clinic area looked like a bearded, long-haired version of Lars Toleffson, just as the cop last night had looked like a rugged, several-years-older version of Lars Toleffson. Were they brothers or clones?

Lars turned toward her. “Jess, this is my brother Cal. Cal, Jess Carroll.”

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Toleffson.” Jess shifted Jack slightly so she could shake his hand. “You have a lovely clinic.”

“Thanks.” Cal Toleffson reached down to ruffle his niece’s hair. “It’s not all mine, though. I’m a partner with Horace Rankin, Bethany’s husband.”

Behind the counter, Bethany Rankin had turned her attention to Jack. “Hi, there, sweetie. What’s your name?”

“That’s Jack,” Daisy announced. “I’m gonna marry him.”

“Well, I can see why.” Bethany gave him a brilliant smile. “Hello Jack. Aren’t you a cutie pie?”

She stretched out her arms just as Jack made a lunge for her hair, grabbing double handfuls of brunette. Bethany leaned forward, laughing.

Jess pulled his fingers away. “Behave yourself, kid. You can’t go grabbing hair with everybody you meet.”

“May I?”

Jess turned to see Cal Toleffson extending his arms and smiling.

“He may go for your beard,” Jess cautioned.

“No problem. So did Daisy.” Cal swept Jack up to his shoulders and began walking back toward the animal area again, motioning for them to follow.

Jack grabbed double handfuls of coffee-colored curls, crowing with delight.

Cal seemed not to notice. “I’ve got a couple of possibilities for you, a puppy and a mature dog. Sometimes mature dogs don’t work out with young children, but this one might be okay.”

He swung open the door to a room lined with wire pens. Only two of them held dogs. Cal leaned toward first one, trying not to bump Jack’s head.

“Here.” Lars stepped forward and swept Jack off his brother’s shoulders. “You and Jess can look at the dogs. I’ll take care of the kids.” He put his hand on Daisy’s shoulder, pulling her back so that she wouldn’t rush the cage.

Jess felt a tightening in her throat. Would Barry have been as gentle with his son, if he’d ever had a chance to hold him? Probably, but of course he’d never had that chance.

Cal unfastened the cage, swinging open the door. A black mostly-cocker spaniel wandered out, looking up at Cal expectantly. “This is the mature dog. Bon Bon.”

Lars shook his head. “Geez, Cal, why do these dogs always have names like that? Don’t any of your clients name their dogs Shep or Lassie?”

Cal ignored him. “Bon Bon’s owner had to go into a rehab center after she broke her hip. She asked me to find the dog a good home. She’s very gentle, not too active, calm. A baby probably wouldn’t bother her.”

Bon Bon turned her huge chocolate eyes in Jess’s direction. She looked ready to cry.

“Can I pet her?” Daisy piped.

Cal nodded. “Gently, Dais. Let’s see how she feels about you.”

Daisy managed to keep her usual exuberance down to a slight bounce as she approached.

Cal put his hand on her shoulder. “Let her sniff your hand first.”

Daisy stretched her hand to the dog. Bon Bon sniffed her fingertips a bit suspiciously, then gave her palm a quick swipe with her tongue.

Daisy giggled.

Bon Bon looked vaguely affronted, but she allowed Daisy to stroke her head, glancing up at Cal with long-suffering eyes.

Cal shrugged. “Like I say. Calm. Sort of placid. Not likely to jump all over anything.”

Jess stared down into Bon Bon’s melancholy eyes again, wondering if she’d regard a prowler as just one more speed bump in her road of life. Somehow she couldn’t imagine the dog protecting Jack from anything more threatening than an éclair. “What’s the other dog like?”

Cal shooed Bon Bon back into her pen, then walked a little further down the room. “It’s a young dog, just past the puppy stage, so it’s a little more, well, energetic.” He unfastened the pen door.

The moment the door was open, what looked like a black-and-white spotted ball seemed to roll out. The dog managed to land with its feet on the floor, then promptly flopped over on its side, righted itself again, and started galloping in Daisy’s direction, yelping ecstatically.

Cal reached down and grabbed its collar. “Whoa! Pull yourself together, pup.”

The dog’s feet looked to be about the size of dinner plates, out of all proportion to its relatively short legs. Its ears flopped around its head as it shook itself. Its ultra-long tail thumped against Cal’s leg.

Cal scratched its ears and the dog settled, closing its eyes in bliss.

“What kind of dog is it?” Jess ventured.

“Mostly blue tick coonhound. He’s got the snout and the ears and the feet. The body’s a little heavier than most hounds, though. Probably some lab in there somewhere. These days there usually is in any mix.”

The dog turned toward Jess, giving her a doggy grin and yipping.

“Can I pet him?” Daisy cried.

“If I can get him to stand still long enough.” Cal knelt beside the pup, pressing down gently on his rear quarters. “C’mon, pup, sit.”

Lars raised an eyebrow. “Doesn’t this one have a name? Lord Ainsley Pupworth or something?”

“This one’s the last of a litter from Dick Coverdale.” Cal held the dog firmly in place. “His prize blue tick got out of her pen and got busy. Dick wanted them out of his sight.”

Daisy approached carefully, her hand extended. “Nice doggy.”

The puppy sniffed at her fingers and then pulled urgently against Cal’s hand, whimpering.

Daisy leaned closer.

The pup’s head shot up and he began licking her face enthusiastically. Daisy pulled back, lips quivering.

Jess held her breath, waiting to see how Daisy would react. Beside her, Jack squirmed in Lars’s arms reaching eagerly toward the pup.

After a moment, Daisy leaned forward again, earning ecstatic doggy kisses all over her cheeks. She threw her arms around the puppy, burying her face against its neck. “Oh, sweetie,” she cried, “I love you.”

Beside her, Jess heard Lars sigh. If she ended up with Bon Bon, she had a feeling the Toleffsons would soon be adopting a blue tick hound.

She chewed her lip. Bon Bon was probably a very nice dog. She’d make some retiree a great companion. On the other hand, the blue tick was going to be a major pain in the rear until he settled down. But Jess was absolutely certain he’d stick to Jack like glue.

“We’ll take him,” she said.

“Great.” Cal stood, towing the blue tick back to its pen. “He’s had all his shots, and you can bring him back when he’s a little older to get him neutered. That’s all part of the adoption.”

“What’s the fee?” Jess did a quick mental review of her cash on hand.

Cal shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I just want him to have a good home. Have you had dogs before?”

“When I was growing up. My dad raised Weimaraners.”

Cal grinned. “Okay. So you’ve got hound experience. That’s good.”

“Yeah, once upon a time I even knew how to do basic obedience training. I may have to bone up on the essentials, though.”

Beside her, Jess was suddenly aware of Lars watching her. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned her dad. Don’t talk about the past. Keep the personal information to a minimum. “Any advice about how to get him used to Jack? And vice versa?”

“Get him set up in his own area, with his own bed. He’s already house trained, thanks to Armando, our night guy with a lot of time on his hands. Do you have a fenced yard?”

Jess nodded. “Not a big fence, but it’s got one.”

“Well, if his barking bothers Jack, you can put him outside while Jack’s sleeping. But a lot of babies get used to the barking fairly quickly.”

“Okay.” Jess bit her lip, thinking. “You know, we might not be able to take him until tomorrow. I didn’t remember to pick up a pet crate before we got here. Or dog food.”

Daisy stared up at her with wide eyes. “We could take him home, couldn’t we, Daddy? Uncle Cal could give us a box.”

Cal grinned at Lars’s stricken expression. “I’ll loan Mrs. Carroll a crate, Daisy. Your dad can bring it back sometime. And we’ve got dog food here.”

Jess collected a collar and leash, immunization tags and a sack of dog food, then let Cal and Lars wrestle the pup into the crate. Once inside, he pressed his nose against the door, whining piteously.

Daisy knelt beside the crate. “Oh, sweetie, don’t you cry. You won’t have to stay in there forever.”

“But he does for now,” Lars said briskly, picking up the crate in one hand and grabbing Daisy’s hand in the other. “Come on, everybody, let’s head out.”

Jess picked Jack up, reaching for the bag.

“Let me help you with that.” Cal swung a giggling Jack back onto his shoulders and headed for the door. “Any idea what you’re going to name your pup?”

Jess sighed. “Sweetie. What else?”

Cal laughed, ducking through the door as Jack squealed happily.

Jess gathered up her purchases and hurried after them. She wasn’t sure just when she’d become part of the Toleffson parade, but it seemed harmless enough.

Pete was already at the Toleffson booth in the Dew Drop with Wonder when Cal walked in. “So? What do you think of her?”

Cal slid onto the bench across from him. “Jesus, what kind of jungle tom-tom do you have, anyway? The woman just left the clinic fifteen minutes ago.”

Pete waved a dismissive hand. “Lars told me about it at breakfast. You know about the burglar, right?”

Cal nodded. “Lars told me about it after he told you. That blue tick pup may not be able to do much more than bark, but he’ll sure do that.”

“Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that.” Pete signaled across the room in Ruby’s general direction. She gave him a look that would have frozen a lesser man to stone.

Wonder shook his head. “How long is Ingstrom going to keep trying? Ruby alone should have killed off his business in under a week.”

“Consider the entertainment value,” Cal muttered as Ruby stomped their way.

“Whaddaya want?” she snarled.

“Dos Equis, Spaten, and Lone Star.” Pete gestured around the table. “The same thing we have every night.”

Ruby turned her back on them and stalked away in the general direction of the bar.

Wonder grimaced. “Don’t bait her, for god’s sake. Who knows what she might do to the beer.”

“Hard to do anything to sealed bottles.” Pete turned back to Cal. “You’re evading the question. What did you think of this Jess Carroll?”

Cal shrugged. “Nice. A little reserved. Young mother with a young child. What else can I tell you? Most of my time was spent trying to keep Daisy from bonding with the blue tick.”

“Did you find out anything about her? You know Docia and Janie are both going to ask.”

“Sure.” Cal leaned back in the booth. “Her father raised Weimaraners and she used to do obedience training. Do not ask me where or when, because that’s the extent of my knowledge.”

Ruby stalked back, unloading the beers onto the table with a sound like a rifle shot. “Six bucks. Plus tip.”

Pete narrowed his eyes at her.

Ruby didn’t blink.

Pete sighed, tossing an extra fifty cents on top of his two dollars. Wonder and Cal did the same.

“Big spenders,” Ruby snarled, stomping back toward the bar.

Pete turned back to Cal. “You think Lars is interested in her?”

For one dizzying moment, Cal thought he was referring to Ruby, then his brain clicked into gear. “If you mean romantically, I don’t know. They seemed…comfortable with each other.”

“‘Comfortable’ doesn’t tell me much, Calthorpe.”

Cal twisted the top off his Dos Equis. “What is this, high school? You sound like a cheerleader trying to find out who the quarterback is boffing.”

“Very funny.” Pete took a swallow of his Lone Star. “I have to face Janie tonight, who heard the whole burglar story when Lars came to pick up Daisy this morning. She’s going to want more than ‘comfortable’, believe me.”

“Yeah, well, I have to face Docia, and I don’t have anything more to tell you, Pete. She seems like a nice woman.”

“Maybe we could embroider it a little bit. What was the thing about obedience training?”

“Is that Erik?” Wonder peered through the gloom of the Dew Drop.

Cal turned, looking over the top of the booth. Erik sat at the far side of the bar, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. He had a glass of something on the table in front of him.

“Is he drinking?” Pete’s voice sounded heavy.

“Probably not. Looks like soda to me, although I suppose he could have something in it. He’s been pretty straight about the whole twelve-step thing, though.”

Wonder sucked in a breath. “Holy shit.”

Cal turned again. Someone else had sat at Erik’s table, but he couldn’t quite see who it was in the middle of the shifting crowd.

“Geez, look at that!” Pete breathed.

Two bodies moved out of the way so that Cal could get a better view of the table. Dahlia the barmaid sat opposite Erik, sipping from her own glass. In the dim light of the bar it was hard to tell, but Cal could swear she had more studs in her ears than usual.

He fought to keep from grinning. He didn’t want Erik to think he was laughing at him—their relationship was already shaky enough. After a moment, he turned back to Pete.

“Okay, now you’ve got your solution. Tell Janie about this. Trust me, it’ll take her mind straight off Lars and Jess Carroll.”

Chapter Ten

Sweetie was elaborately grateful to be free of his pen. He was elaborately grateful for his cardboard box bed in the utility room near the back door. He was elaborately grateful to be served his dinner of kibble, after which he took up residence beneath Jack’s high chair, busily cleaning off the bits of Jack’s food that reached the floor. Sweetie was elaborate, period.

Jack whooped and chortled, delighted with the dog. When Sweetie barked at a passing grackle, he stared wide-eyed for a moment, and then decided that was delightful too, beating his hands on his high chair in appreciation.

After dinner, Jess took them both outside for Sweetie’s evening cavort, holding Jack’s hands so that he could stand and watch. Sweetie obediently took care of his business, and she offered up a silent prayer of thanks to Armando, the night man with too much time on his hands and a gift for toilet training. Maybe she’d try to get him to work with Jack when he hit two.

Assuming they were still in Konigsburg when Jack hit two and not running for cover somewhere else.

She settled the dog into his towel-lined box in the utility room, between the dryer and the back door. “You’re sleeping here, Sweetie,” she explained, hoping he’d buy in. Sweetie thumped his tail on the floor, chewing on a rawhide toy Lars had bought him.

After both Sweetie and Jack seemed to have settled down, Jess dragged her sleeping bag and foam pad into Jack’s room, placing herself between the door and the crib. She’d made sure all the windows were latched, with nail stops pounded into the sashes to hold them closed. The doors were bolted and Sweetie was bedded down at the back.

But still. She drifted off to sleep listening to Jack’s gentle breathing.

She spent most of the next day keeping Daisy and Jack from overwhelming Sweetie with love, and keeping Sweetie from licking Daisy and Jack over every inch of exposed skin. She left the dog in the back yard when they went to clean the cabin, even though Daisy and Jack both raised beseeching gazes as Sweetie set up a mournful howl.

“He’s all right,” Jess explained. “We’ll only be gone for an hour or so.”

When they returned, Sweetie greeted them as if he’d been abandoned for weeks. His tail wagged so hard Jess wondered how he could walk. He whimpered at Jess, snuffled Daisy and licked the remains of Cheerios off Jack.

She herded the three of them inside for lunch. Apparently, she’d just acquired a third child.

When Lars arrived to pick up Daisy that night, she wanted to bring Sweetie home for a sleepover. Lars discouraged her gently but quite firmly.

“Everything okay?” he asked from the doorway.

Jess nodded. “We’re doing fine. Sweetie was a great idea.”

“All right then. I guess we’ll take off.” His gaze darted around the room once more, as if he were looking for threats. Then he gathered Daisy into his arms and headed for his SUV.

The evening was a repeat of the night before, except that Sweetie dozed next to the rocking chair while Jess nursed Jack, apparently exhausted from his long day of being a blue tick pup. He seemed perfectly happy to settle into his box in the utility room afterward, leaving Jess to totter off to her own bed an hour later.

Sweetie’s barking woke her at three a.m. She knew the time because she looked at the clock in the dining room as she headed for the back of the house.

“C’mon, dog,” she muttered. “You were okay last night. Don’t start this now.”

Sweetie’s baying and whining sounded like hounds on the scent. Jess wondered if he’d cornered a mouse or if there was a possum in the backyard. If Sweetie got this excited over wildlife, they were in for a long winter.

“Sweetie,” she called softly. “Knock it off. You’ll wake Jack.” She stepped into the utility room, flipping on the light switch.

Sweetie stood with his paws braced on the back door below the knob. His head was thrown back as he bayed a long string of ululations, sounding like he’d treed a family of raccoons.

“Sweetie,” she called again. “Stop it now. Be quiet.” She reached for the dog’s collar to drag him back from the door, then stopped, staring.

In the backdoor’s screened glass window, directly above the deadbolt, was a neat round hole, about four inches across. Just enough room for a hand to slide through soundlessly.

The breath left Jess’s chest as if she’d been punched. She staggered backward, putting out a hand to steady herself.

Sweetie dropped to the floor again and clicked toward her, whimpering.

She tried to pull her breath back into her lungs, her gaze fastened on the black circle of night in the glass. Then she fumbled for the switch beside the door, sending light pouring into the back yard.

The empty back yard.

She stared into the darkness, trying to see if anyone was there beyond the outer edge of the yard light. She closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her lips together tight to stop the trembling. Trying to make herself think.

Call Lars. No . It was three a.m. He’d be asleep. Call Erik. He might be asleep, too. Call the police. Call someone. Tell them…what?

Someone wants my baby. Lydia Moreland wants my baby.

No one would believe in a random burglary now. She’d have to tell them the whole story. But they probably wouldn’t believe that one either. She hardly believed it herself. And they’d probably call the Morelands to check her out.

But if she was right, it wouldn’t be a surprise. If she was right, Lydia already knew where she and Jack were living.

For a moment she thought again of throwing her things into the car, grabbing Jack and Sweetie, heading down the road to… Where?

Colorado? New Mexico? Louisiana? Oklahoma? Was there anywhere in the country where Lydia couldn’t find them, now that she’d picked up their scent?

Sweetie whimpered again, pushing his head against Jess’s hand.

“It’s okay,” she mumbled mechanically. “We’ll be okay.”

She turned and walked back into the dining room, Sweetie at her heels. The baseball bat still rested beside the china cabinet, where she’d put it after the last time the intruder had shown up.

Jess sank into one of the dining room chairs, pulling the bat between her knees. What was she going to do? What should she do? Run away? Stand and fight? How the hell did she stand and fight with a baby and a hound dog pup depending on her?

She closed her eyes for a moment, sucking in a breath. Someone wanted her baby. Lydia Moreland wanted her baby.

Suddenly, she felt a jolt of pure rage in her gut. Damn Lydia and all the Morelands, back to the first shifty-eyed Moreland pilgrim who’d set his greasy foot on American soil. All of them, every one, except for Barry.

“C’mon, Lydia,” she whispered. “C’mon, goddamn you. Just you and me. I’m ready for you this time.”

Sweetie circled three times, dropped at her feet, and promptly fell asleep.

Lars was running late that morning, but Daisy was raring to go. Apparently, the combination of Sweetie and Jack was well-nigh irresistible.

“C’mon Daddy,” she called. “Hurry up.”

Lars blew out a breath. They needed to have breakfast, but he had the feeling Daisy would never sit still that long. Sighing, he handed Daisy a granola bar and sent up a silent prayer that Jess would have some extra breakfast food on hand, along with Jack’s Cheerios.

At the cabin, Daisy rushed through the door the moment it was opened. “Sweetie,” she called, “Sweetie, I’m back.”

“Sorry about that,” Lars sighed. “You wouldn’t happen to have some breakfast…”

He stopped, staring. Jess Carroll looked like she’d gone three rounds with a rabid raccoon and lost. Her face was pale with exhaustion. Her eyes looked like ragged holes torn in paper.

“What happened?” he gasped.

She stared back at him for a moment, her eyes like stormy seas again. Then she motioned for him to follow her. He walked through the kitchen, into what looked like a utility room. Sweetie’s bed was pushed against one wall.

Jess pointed at the door. Lars’s hands clenched into fists. A perfectly round hole had been cut through the corner of the backdoor glass, a few inches above the lock.

“Probably a glass cutter.” She sighed. “Sweetie started barking and woke me up. He was gone before I got out here.”

She rubbed a hand across her face, blinking.

Lars swallowed hard. “How long have you been up?”

“It happened at three. So since then, I guess. I couldn’t go back to sleep after that.” Jess stared at the door, her face blank. He wasn’t sure she even saw it. She pressed her hand against her mouth, stifling a yawn.

“Jess,” he said quietly. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”

She shrugged. “Somebody’s trying to get in. I guess they want something from me.”

“Who, Jess?” Lars took hold of her arm, turning her so that she had to look at him. “Who’s after you? What do they want?” He had an overwhelming urge to shake her.

Until he looked at her more closely. Her lips trembled. She pressed her hand to her mouth again, as tears streaked down her cheeks. Her breath caught in a sob.

“Daddy?”

Daisy stood in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide. Lars wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a grown-up cry before.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He started back toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s make some breakfast for Mrs. Carroll and Jack.”

Jess choked back another sob. “I can make breakfast. You need to go to work.”

Lars shook his head. “Go to bed, Jess. You’re dead on your feet. I’ll watch everything until you wake up.”

“But Jack…”

“Go to bed.” He pushed her gently toward the hall. “It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen.”

“Daddy?” Daisy stared up at him. “Are you staying?”

He nodded. “I’m staying. I’ll call Mrs. Suarez and tell her to forward any calls and reschedule my appointments.”

Four hours later, Lars had developed a new appreciation for Jess’s normal routine. He’d underestimated how often babies needed changing and how short a two-year-old’s attention span could be and how much chaos a rambunctious puppy could create in under five minutes.

Mrs. Suarez had agreed to reschedule as many appointments as she could. Fortunately, he hadn’t had any new clients coming in today and the others he could probably fit into the rest of the week.

By noon he was ready to take the whole crew to McDonald’s, except he didn’t know if Jack could eat anything on their menu. He made soup for Daisy instead and fed Jack some strained turkey that he didn’t seem too enthusiastic about. Now all he had to do was get through the rest of the afternoon.

And wait for Jess to wake up.

The questions he needed to ask her prickled at the back of his mind. Who are you? What are you doing here? What did you do before you came to Konigsburg that’s following you and Jack around now?

Do I need to be afraid for my daughter?

After lunch he bundled Jack and Daisy into Jack’s room, lowering the baby into his crib and getting Daisy into a sleeping bag he’d found on the floor of the room.

Had Jess been sleeping there? Why was she sleeping in her baby’s room?

He read them a story from a picture book of fairy tales. Jack drifted off, and Daisy’s eyes were drooping.

“Where’s Sweetie?” she mumbled.

“He’ll take his nap while you do,” Lars murmured in her ear. “You’ll all be fit and ready to go in an hour.” He just hoped he was too.

When he stumbled back into the dining room, he found Jess sitting at the table, a pile of papers spread out in front of her.

“Are they asleep?” she asked.

He nodded, dropping into the chair beside her. “We’ve got an hour or so.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath, then let it out in a gusty sigh. “I guess you need my life story. Or part of it, anyway. I’ll tell you what I can.”

Lars swallowed, ignoring the tightness in his chest. “Go for it.”

“My husband’s name was Barry. Barrett Moreland. That’s our wedding license.” She handed him an official-looking sheet of paper with a state seal in one corner. “And that’s Jack’s birth certificate. I figured by now you might be wondering if I was a kidnapper or worse.”

He blinked at her. “I didn’t…” But of course he had. At least it had crossed his mind.

Jess shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I can find the card from Barry’s funeral too, if you need it. I really am a widow. I didn’t want to drag you into this, but it looks like I may have to. At least for some of it.” She sighed again, rubbing a hand across her face. “I’m not sure what all to tell you about us.”

“Where are you from?”

“Most recently, Belle View, Pennsylvania. Before that Indiana.”

“Was your husband from there, too?”

“Yes. His family lives there.” Her expression was guarded suddenly.

“How did you meet him?” Lars settled back in his chair.

“In a bar.” She gave him a rueful grin. “Barry loved to tell people that. He was a recovering alcoholic, so it made an impression. I’m a Web developer, but I had a friend who owned a restaurant. I used to tend bar for him sometimes. Barry came in one night, drinking soda since he wasn’t doing booze anymore.”

Lars tried to remember all the things he was going to ask. Suddenly, his mind was a blank. “Was this in Pennsylvania?”

“Right. Belle View. I worked for an ISP there.”

“ISP?”

“Internet Service Provider. I was one of their techies.” She sorted through the papers on the table in front of her. “That’s Barry.”

Lars stared at the picture of the two of them. Barry looked older by a few years, or maybe just more worn out. But his smile was warm, and the affection in his expression as he looked at his wife seemed genuine. “You made a nice-looking couple.”

“Thanks.” She took the picture back again, staring at it for a moment. “He wasn’t drinking when we met. He’d already quit. But the drinking had hurt him—a lot.” She tucked the picture back in the stack of papers. “He had heart problems. I think he’d always had them, but being an alcoholic didn’t help. He told me when I married him I was getting a wreck, but I didn’t care. He was such a sweet man.”

She raised her gaze to Lars again. “I didn’t know who he was when we first met. The name Moreland didn’t mean much to me. I knew the Moreland family was a big deal in Belle View, but I figured Barry must be some poor relation. He didn’t look like a millionaire.”

Lars raised his eyebrows. “Was he?”

Jess shrugged. “Once upon a time, he may have been, but he’d burned through most of it. The Morelands own a large part of Belle View. Plus they’ve got a company that employs a lot of people in town. They’re a very powerful family, at least in Belle View, Pennsylvania. Of course, it’s a fairly small town.”

“But your husband wasn’t powerful himself?”

Jess shook her head. “The family tied up the rest of his money in trusts when he was drinking to keep him from blowing it all. Barry never bothered trying to get the money back. He said his mother would want him to move in with the family again, and that would have killed him within a year. He got a job as a counselor in a rehab facility, so he had the salary and health benefits there. And I had my salary and benefits at NewTech.”

“Wait.” Lars raised his hand. “You’re telling me that your husband was a wealthy man on paper, but the two of you lived on your combined salaries?”

She nodded. “He’d walked out on his family for good. His mother controlled his trusts, but he wouldn’t let her use it to control him. It didn’t bother me. Like I said, I thought he was some distant Moreland relation. By the time I found out who he really was, I was already in love with him. I would have married him regardless.”

“How long were you married before he died?”

Jess nudged the papers with her index finger. “Two years, more or less. Barry didn’t even get to see Jack—I was eight months pregnant when he died. He left what money he had to Jack and me, but all the family money was tied up in those trusts and I couldn’t have touched it without going to court, which I couldn’t afford. Other than that, he only had a few thousand he’d managed to squirrel away, plus a little insurance. Before he died, he warned me not to get involved with anyone connected to the Moreland family.”

He frowned. “Why not? You were a new mother. You needed help.”

“Not from them.” Her voice was tight. “Barry found a lawyer before he went into the hospital the last time. And he tried to protect me and Jack in his will, but nobody fights off the Morelands for long. At least not in Belle View.”

“Did they know about you and Jack? That your husband had a wife and son?”

One corner of Jess’s mouth edged up. “They found out. Barry’s big brother came to the funeral. When he saw me in my maternity dress, he turned purple. Two days later I had lawyers knocking on my door.”

“Offering you what?”

“A deal I wasn’t supposed to refuse. I was supposed to move to the Moreland family ‘compound’. In return they’d take over the care and feeding of my child-to-be-named-later, assuming, of course, that the child’s DNA matched the Moreland bloodline.”

“He wanted a paternity test? Even though you’d been married to his brother?” Lars forced his hands to unclench.

“Of course.” Jess’s voice was dry. “Money was at stake. They couldn’t take the chance I’d try to pass off some bastard child as pure Moreland stock. I told them to shove it. A few weeks later I went into labor.”

“And I’m guessing they showed up at the hospital.”

“Right again. Only this time it wasn’t the lawyers. This time it was Lydia Moreland herself. Barry’s mother. The Ice Queen.”

Jess pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “I had Jack in the room with me, sleeping in his crib. She looked at him like he was an alien species. Then she told me that he was a Moreland, even though I clearly wasn’t, and Morelands should be raised as they’d always been raised, by Morelands to be Morelands. She told me she’d send a car to collect us when I was released from the hospital, so that we could go straight to the compound. So that we wouldn’t set foot in the townhouse where I’d lived with Barry. She didn’t even bother asking me what I wanted. That was a given.”

“And you told her to shove it, too.” The corners of Lars’s mouth edged up.

“That I did. Maybe I should have been more diplomatic, but I had hormonal issues. Besides, I’d just lost my husband and had a baby. I was entitled.”

Lars took a deep breath. “So what did they do to you? I assume they didn’t just let it go.”

“Allow a non-Moreland to go one-up on the Moreland family?” Jess shook her head. “Not on your life. First they got me fired.”

“How did they do that?”

“Like I said, they’ve got a lot of influence in Belle View. Plus they were major investors in NewTech, the company where I worked. I didn’t know that when I married Barry—chances are he didn’t either. But they didn’t stop there. They also got two of my best friends fired.”

Lars stared at her. “Why? What good would that do them?”

“It showed everybody at NewTech I was poison.” Jess stopped, staring down at her hands. “It showed them that being friends with me was a dangerous choice. I never heard from most of the people I knew there again. I didn’t blame them.”

Lars closed his eyes for a moment. Sherice apparently had nothing on the Moreland family. “Okay. Then what?”

“There was this guy—Lee. I knew him from work. He came over a couple of times with pizza, commiserating with me. He was basically the only person who was still talking to me at that point, and I appreciated it. Then one night he showed up drunk and I wouldn’t let him in. He stood outside yelling until the neighbors called the cops.”

“Was he related to the Morelands?”

“Not exactly. The next day, a woman from Child Welfare showed up at my door. She said they’d had reports that I was endangering my child through my associations. She interviewed me for over an hour and she inspected the house. She even sat and watched me with Jack, just to make sure I wasn’t some kind of abusive parent.” She closed her eyes. “It scared me more than anything else they did—the idea that they could take Jack away from me.”

“So the guy wasn’t a random jerk?”

She shook her head. “He called me a couple of days later and apologized. He said he’d been paid to make trouble, but he was sorry about it. I guess even thugs have their limits. Someone from the Morelands’ security division had hired him. The same guy also called Child Welfare on me.”

Lars massaged the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. “Was that when you left?”

“No, I still thought I could wait them out, plus I was pissed. But then they got me thrown out of my townhouse.” She sighed. “I should have seen that one coming, but I didn’t. The manager said there was a clause in the lease that gave them the right to terminate if my behavior disturbed other tenants, and Lee banging on the door was enough to justify them. I asked for some time so I could find another place. They gave me two days to vacate.”

Lars’s shoulder muscles began to cramp. He flexed his hands again, trying to relax them. “So you’re telling me your in-laws deliberately put a mother with a new baby out on the street with no source of income.”

Her lips formed a thin line. “Now you’re getting a sense of the full Moreland treatment. I was supposed to come to them. Chastened. Ready to be a good, dutiful daughter-in-law. Ready to turn Jack over to them.”

“What did you do instead?”

Jess shrugged. “I took off.”

Lars fought down the impulse to grin. Totally inappropriate. “Of course you did. How?”

“I went to the bank and withdrew all the money from my checking account. Also the savings account that had the money Barry had saved. He’d managed to get the account changed to my name before he went into the hospital.”

Lars glanced down at the photograph again, Barry Moreland’s care-worn face. “Sounds like Barry knew what was coming.”

“Barry knew his family. After a few weeks, I did, too.” She squared the papers again, frowning slightly. “I figured they might have somebody watching the house, so I parked the car in the garage the night before my final two days were up and loaded everything I wanted to keep—which wasn’t much, believe me. At two in the morning, I put Jack in his car seat and drove south. Nobody followed us.”

“Did you think they would?”

“Absolutely. I’d already seen what their security guys could do. Plus they’ve got lawyers out the wazoo. Getting somebody to watch the house and me would be no problem at all. They probably caught hell when they found out we were gone.”

“Why did you come down here to Konigsburg?”

She smiled. “My dad was from Marble Falls and he talked about the Hill Country all the time. He liked Konigsburg. I figured it would be a good place to head for. But I didn’t come straight down.”

“Why not?”

“I wanted to make sure anyone who tried to trace me would have a tough time. I traded in my car in Tennessee and got that Accord I’m driving now. I deposited most of the money in Dallas and opened a checking account at the same bank, only I pay for everything with cash that I withdraw on my debit card. I take care of bills online and the address I gave the bank is a P.O. box in San Antonio. A couple of times a month Jack and I take a trip and withdraw some money from an ATM somewhere in Texas. If they try to trace me through the bank account, I figure they’ll have a hard time.”

Lars felt slightly dizzy. It was all making a strange kind of sense. “But now you think they’ve found you?”

Jess’s eyes turned bleak. “Yeah, I’m betting on it. Somehow they managed to trace me here. One break-in might be random, but nobody else would keep trying to break in repeatedly once they saw how little I have worth stealing. They’re after Jack. Nothing else here is worth anything. Barrymore or whatever his name is must be working for Lydia Moreland.”

“But she’s got no right to Jack. If she kidnapped him, you could go to the police. She wouldn’t be able to keep him.”

“Don’t bank on it.” Jess ran her fingers through her hair. Even tousled, it looked like old gold. “I don’t know how she’ll do it, but I know she’ll try. And like I said, lawyers out the wazoo.”

He stared at her. The prickle at the back of his neck had become full-blown ice down his spine. “You can’t stay out here, then. Neither of you.”

She sighed. “Lars, we’ve been through this before. I have a job here. I can’t do it anywhere else. And I can’t afford to live anywhere else. I’m rent-free here, and Mrs. Carmody throws in some salary.” Her jaw hardened. “And I’ll be goddamned if I’ll let Lydia Moreland drive me out of another town.”

Silence stretched between them for a moment, but he was the one who blinked. “Okay. Let’s call Erik, for now. He needs to see the hole in the window before we board it up.”

Chapter Eleven

Erik stared at the hole in the glass panel for a good five minutes before he said anything. What he finally said was “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” Lars tried not to grind his teeth. He’d been hoping for something more like an offer to call in the Texas Rangers.

Erik nodded. “He took the glass with him—must have used a suction cup to keep it from falling through. Standard burglar stuff. Wonder how he got back here?”

Lars followed him out into the fenced back yard, fending off Sweetie as the dog danced around their feet. “There’s a gate.”

“Locked with a padlock and chain,” Erik pointed out. “Looks like it hasn’t been opened in a while.”

“So he climbed the fence?”

“Probably. It’s not too tall. Looks around six feet.” Erik walked along the perimeter of the yard, studying the wire mesh of the cyclone fence. “Looks like he didn’t leave anything behind, though.”

“You expected him to?”

Erik shrugged. “Not really. Cool customer. Got away clean even with this blue tick baying at him.”

Sweetie bounced enthusiastically at Erik’s side, then galloped around the fence sniffing at the base.

Lars watched him, hoping against hope he might find something. “They’ll be back.”

Erik leaned back against the trunk of a backyard pecan. “You know something you’re not telling me, Lars?”

Lars nodded. “It’s a long story, and Jess is the one who should tell you, but it’s nothing illegal. At least not on her part. She’s got some shitty people after her, though.”

Erik narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you give me the short version and then I’ll pick up the details from her when she finishes with the kids.”

Jess was inside giving Daisy and Jack their post-nap snacks. She seemed happy not to have to follow Erik’s investigation of her yard.

Lars stared down at his feet, then back up again. “She’s a widow. Her husband’s family is hot stuff in Pennsylvania. They’re trying to kidnap her son.”

Erik blinked at him. “Well, that was short, all right. But not exactly what I was expecting to hear. Someone’s trying to kidnap her baby?”

“That’s what Jess thinks, and I’m inclined to agree with her. Not much here worth stealing, and Haggedorn kept asking all those questions about children.” Lars gazed around the fence one more time, wishing Lorne Haggedorn had at least left the seat of his pants on the jagged wire at the top.

“Well, shitfire.” Erik sighed. “You just exceeded what little the Konigsburg Police Department can do for you. We can handle burglary. Kidnapping goes to the Rangers. Or the Feds. Thing is, though, you don’t have enough to call them in yet.”

“I know. All we’ve got now is suspicion and two attempted break-ins. I guess the Rangers couldn’t help us much unless somebody were to actually grab Jack. Which I’m trying to keep from happening.”

“You talked to Pete yet?”

Lars shook his head. “I just found out all about it this afternoon.”

“Talk to him, then. He may have some ideas about what else you could do. I’ll write up another report on this as an attempted burglary and suggest we send patrol cars by here on a regular basis.” He shrugged. “Who knows? Olema might listen to me for once.”

Claude Olema was the current Konigsburg chief of police. Apparently, Erik didn’t think much of his competence. Neither did Lars.

“I want her out of here, Erik, but she won’t go. You think she’s safe? You think Daisy is?”

Erik stared off at the far side of the yard. “During the daytime she’s probably okay. This place isn’t all that isolated. There’s a lot of traffic on the highway, and guests coming and going. Night’s another story. There’s a lot of trees and brush around here. Tell her to put the blue tick outside in the back yard at night. At least he might keep anybody from climbing over the fence again.”

Lars nodded slowly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The back door burst open and Daisy galloped toward them. “Sweetie! Did you miss us?”

Lars sighed. “Looks like discussion time is over.”

“Board up her utility room window. Call Pete. And keep your eyes open.” Erik tipped his Stetson. “Afternoon, Miss Daisy.”

Daisy glanced at him briefly, then continued her gallop.

Lars hated to break it to him, but to Daisy, the blue tick was more interesting than either of them at the moment.

Jess wasn’t sure who Lars was calling on his cell while she went searching for something she could use to cover the window in the utility room door. Daisy had promised to stay close to the house with Sweetie, and Jack was bouncing happily in his jumper seat under Lars’s semi-watchful eye.

She found a piece of pine plywood in the garage that looked big enough, then picked up a hammer and nails from the workbench. Lars walked in as she started to hammer the first nail into the corner.

“Here,” he said, “let me do that. You can take over kid duty for a while.”

He took the hammer from her hand, positioning a nail in the other corner. “I called my brother Pete,” he explained between hammer blows. “Erik thought we should talk to him, and I think it’s a good idea. Pete can at least give us some idea of the legal options. He’s an assistant county attorney.”

“What legal options?” She glanced out the open door, watching Daisy and Sweetie chase each other back and forth across the yard. “All I’ve got are suspicions. Well-founded, maybe, but nothing more than that.”

Lars shrugged. “You’ve also got what happened to you in Pennsylvania. If nothing else, I’d say you’ve got a pattern. Anyway, it won’t hurt to talk to Pete. The more people who hear your story, the better.”

“You’re right, I guess.” She sighed. “I’ve spent the last few months trying to stay under the radar, but it looks like the Morelands found me anyway.”

He gave the plywood one last tap. “Erik also said you should put Sweetie out in the yard at night. If you really mean to stay out here, that is.”

Jess stared at him. “Well…”

“Well, what? You want to move into town? You can take my house. The offer’s still open.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t want to take your house. But I’ve been thinking about options. Maybe I should reconsider the whole idea of staying in Konigsburg. It might be easier for everybody if Jack and I just went somewhere else. I mean somewhere away from Texas.”

Lars took his hands away from the plywood and stood watching her. She could hear the sound of Daisy’s laughter from the yard. It had taken a couple of hours for her rage at Lydia Moreland to wear off. A couple of hours to recognize how few resources she had for fighting back against the Morelands and their hired guns.

“We could head for another state, somewhere with no family connections. I mean, maybe they found me because my father was from around this area.”

“And if that wasn’t it?” His voice sounded tight. “If they actually found you some other way, some way they could use again? You’d be somewhere where nobody could help you. Where nobody knew what was going on. If they grabbed Jack, it might take you days to convince anyone. By then he could be somewhere in Pennsylvania—or maybe even somewhere outside the country.”

Her throat constricted. For a moment, she worked on breathing. “I wouldn’t let them do that. I’d be careful.”

“You mean you weren’t careful this time?” He shook his head. “C’mon, Jess, let us help you. You need people on your side.”

She took another deep breath, fighting back the tears that stung her eyes. “You don’t know the Morelands. You don’t know what they’re capable of.”

He shrugged. “No, I don’t. But I know the Toleffsons pretty well. And, trust me, we’re capable of a lot on our own. Come on—let’s get the kids ready to go to town.”

These days, going anywhere took a lot of organization, not to mention discussion. Jess finally convinced Daisy that Sweetie would be much happier staying in the back yard than riding in the car. Jack wasn’t pleased about cutting short his jumper chair session, but he finally stopped fussing when Jess had him changed and supplied with Cheerios. They piled into Lars’s SUV, Daisy and Jack in their matching car seats in the back, Jess up front with Lars.

“Is there a place for the kids to play while we talk to your brother?”

He gave her a dry grin. “Yeah. The bookstore. Janie can park Daisy in the children’s book section and Docia can look after Jack.”

“Did they agree to that?”

He shrugged. “They will.”

Jess managed not to groan. She had a feeling the other Toleffsons might not be as eager as Lars to sign on to all of this.

Janie Toleffson turned out to be a petite brunette with a wicked grin. She smiled at Jess, tickled Daisy and let Jack grab a lock of her hair.

“I’ve heard about you, kiddo,” she cooed. “You’ve got a thing for hair, right?”

Jack giggled, kicking his feet in his baby seat.

“We need to talk to Pete. Can we leave them here for a little while?” Lars asked.

Janie frowned slightly. “To Pete?”

“It’s okay, Janie. Nothing serious.”

Jess hoped Janie didn’t recognize the tightness in his voice.

“We can take care of them.” Docia leaned forward, lifting Jack from his seat. “Take as long as you need. We can get acquainted.”