Книга - Dream Weaver

Dream Weaver
Jenna Ryan


SOMEONE WAS WATCHING DR. MELIANA MAYNARD'S EVERY MOVE…First, there were the single white roses. In her home, her office, her car. Then, the notes came…. And the nightmare began. The skillful surgeon was in trouble–and now the only man who could protect her from a madman was her estranged husband, ex-FBI agent Johnny Grand.But uncovering the identity of a shadowy stalker seemed less frightening than facing the feelings provoked by the one man she'd never stopped loving. Meliana would stand strong against her twisted pursuer, but with Johnny…she'd surely buckle the minute he held her in his arms.









Someone was lurking in the bushes…


Meliana heard a movement to her left. She crouched, breathed carefully, concentrated. She should have brought a knife, she realized. She kept still and forced herself to remain calm. Her heart was slamming so hard she felt certain whoever was there would hear it. She searched the darkened ground for a weapon. A stone was the best she could find, but she needed something to defend herself in a struggle.

What if it was him?

It had to be him…waiting to pounce. Had he followed her? It was possible. He’d done a number of other bizarre things. Like stealing her underwear.

She waited a full thirty seconds. The frogs seemed to grow louder with each second that passed. The sound of rustling bushes reached her again. Someone was directly behind her. Still in a crouch, Meliana spun. As she did, a man’s arm wrapped itself around her shoulders and a hand came over her mouth….




Dream Weaver

Jenna Ryan







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Jenna Ryan loves creating dark-haired heroes, heroines with strength and good murder mysteries. Ever since she was young, she has had an extremely active imagination. She considered various careers over the years and dabbled in several of them, until the day her sister Kathy suggested she put her imagination to work and write a book. She enjoys working with intriguing characters and feels she is at her best writing romantic suspense. When people ask her how she writes, she tells them by instinct. Clearly it’s worked, since she’s received numerous awards from Romantic Times BOOKclub. She lives in Canada and travels as much as she can when she’s not writing.




CAST OF CHARACTERS


Meliana Maynard—A stalker is sending this gifted Chicago surgeon white roses.

Johnny Grand—Meliana’s estranged husband. Two years undercover for the FBI damaged his mind and his marriage.

Julie Denton—Meliana’s best friend and a Chicago police officer. She predicts the stalker will become murderous.

Sam Robbins—Julie’s awkward stepbrother. He has a strange mental gift, and a big crush on Meliana.

Charlie Lightfoot—Meliana’s friend is a psychologist with powers of his own. He predicts great danger for Meliana.

Zack Crawford—Deputy sheriff in Blue Lake, where Johnny lives and Meliana used to spend her vacations.

Nick Hohlman—A surgical nurse who fought hard to become part of Meliana’s team.

Chris Blackburn—An FBI agent. Once Johnny’s friend and partner, he admits to being in love with Meliana.

Tim Carrick—Johnny’s phantom neighbor in Blue Lake. His wife simply vanished one day.

Sheriff Owen Frank—He enforces the law in Blue Lake, but only when necessary.




Contents


Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty




Prologue


I am not crazy!

There, that’s out of the way. Sometimes people tell me I am, and it makes me furious. But I don’t want to think about that, or I might do something unpleasant.

I’ll think about Meliana Maynard instead. Beautiful, exotic Meliana. I’ve been watching her for a very long time now. I know her routine, her habits, even some of her quirks.

I’ve watched her jog on the shore of Lake Michigan and in the park. I’ve seen her at the hospital where she works. She wears blue scrubs when she’s operating and a white lab coat when she isn’t.

She has black magic hair—that’s dark, dark brown with just a hint of red—but it’s her eyes that are the real magic. They’re silver-gray, like the lake on a rainy day when the sun pokes through and shines on it.

I love her. I don’t care that she married another man. I would if they were still together, but she left him six months ago, so it’s okay. Sort of. She came to her senses and did the smart thing, the right thing. We can be together now. Or—well, soon.

She has an amazing body. I took some of her lingerie. Six pieces, and every piece as lovely as she is. I think she wears sexy lingerie all the time. There was a lot of silk and lace in her drawer.

There were a lot of photographs, too, pictures of Meliana on her wedding day. I wanted to tear the man beside her to shreds.

It’s odd, but I find myself staring at a scalpel she used once. I see it covered in blood. I’m starting to shake. She has a mind of her own, my Meliana. She’s very strong.

The shaking is getting worse. All I can see is blood.

I’ve been spinning dreams about her for many long months. I’ve woven the threads of them back and forth in my mind until now, finally, I’ve created the perfect picture of Meliana and me.

And yet I worry. I see blood. I shake. What if she doesn’t want me? What if she thinks I’m crazy? What if she doesn’t love me?

What if the blood is hers?




Chapter One


It was going to rain. At the moment, the air was warm and sultry as late summer stroked lingering fingers over the Chicago area, but there were black clouds suspended above the lake and strong traces of red and gold on the leaves.

Labor Day had come and gone. Children were back in school, the tourists older now, couples for the most part, looking for both excitement and nostalgia as their vacation time wound down.

Meliana Maynard wasn’t looking so much as listening to her neighbor Chris Blackburn’s thumbnail account of the attempted break-in on her midcentury town house.

“Your alarm went off when the guy tried to jimmy the back door.” Chris cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “He must have burned rubber across your lawn. Cops showed within four minutes.” He grinned. “That’s gotta be a first, right? I flashed my ID and went inside with them, but I don’t think whoever it was made it past the back stoop.” His grin widened as he rested both arms on her shoulders and set his face close to hers. “So how was your day, sweet cheeks? Did you cut into anyone worth mentioning?”

“A cute sixteen-year-old with a ruptured spleen and a guy with a gunshot wound to his right leg. Sorry, no gory details on that one.” Meliana looked past Chris at the pair of approaching detectives. “Hey, Julie.”

The female of the pair smiled. She had straight, chin-length blond hair, a squarish jaw and bright haze-green eyes. “Are you going to check your place with me, Mel, or hang out all day with that fed?”

“He’s being supportive,” Meliana said, but she tapped Chris’s arms with her index fingers and got him to drop them. “What do you think—did he get inside?”

“I doubt it.” With a nod to her partner and another head motion at Meliana, Julie started up the rear stairs. “I always think it’s weird when people try to break and enter town houses—them being so close together and all. But you’re on an end, so I suppose he figured he could pull it off. What are you doing, Blackburn?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Supporting a friend, Detective Denton.” He quirked a brow. “You got a problem with that?”

“I’ve got a problem with most feds, and you in particular. If Mel needed the FBI, which she doesn’t, her husband, your former partner, would pull rank on you in a minute. Go home and watch the Sox get their tails whipped.”

Chris’s brow went higher. “Aren’t you in Homicide these days? I don’t see any dead bodies around here.”

“It’s called looking out for a friend, Blackburn. Although you seem familiar with the concept, this isn’t your turf. Go away.”

Despite the situation, Meliana’s amusement rose. Julie and Chris had dated once, and it hadn’t gone well. They’d butted heads, tossed a little too much alcohol into an already volatile mix and very nearly wound up having their own private kickboxing match.

“That’s enough, you two. Do you have any idea who it was?”

“Not a clue. This neighborhood’s been pretty clean lately.”

“Except for the car thieves,” Chris remarked from behind.

“She still has her car, doesn’t she? I’ll go through the house with you, Mel, but it looks like the guy bolted when he heard the alarm.”

“Which is exactly what I said earlier,” Chris countered with a smug air.

Meliana jabbed his ribs. “Stop needling her, Blackburn, or I’ll think you’ve been spending time with Johnny.”

Chris snorted. “No one’s been spending time with your hubby—sorry, ex-hubby, Mel. He lives like a hermit up at Blue Lake. Last time I saw him he had one beer, two eggs and a few scary-looking slices of white bread in his fridge.”

They were separated, not divorced, Meliana reflected, but she let it go. “Eileen Crawford cleans house for him. She’ll stock his fridge. Did anyone look in my cookie jar? For money,” she added when Chris opened his mouth. “I keep extra cash inside for emergency pizzas.”

“God, you eat as bad as Johnny.” Julie pushed the door open. “It’s a miracle you two lived long enough to get married.”

“She dug a slug out of his chest is why they got married,” Chris said.

“Nice try, but how we met isn’t why we got married.” Meliana scanned the living room. “Seems fine here.”

It was the same in the bedrooms, the dining room, the bathrooms and the kitchen. Even her cookie jar rattled with loose change.

“A twenty, two tens and a chewed five-dollar bill. My neighbor’s new puppy’s teething,” Meliana explained, screwing the lid back on. “The only drugs I have are run-of-the-mill aspirin, and my wine cooler still has seventeen bottles inside. I’d say he took off.”

“Good.” Julie closed her notebook. “I can write my report and be home by seven. Hot date.” She grunted in Chris’s direction. “Thankfully, not with a fed. You know, the only one of their kind I’ve ever been able to tolerate is Johnny, and even then there were times when I wanted to shove his ID up his—nose. Shut up,” she said before Chris could speak. “I’m leaving, Mel. If you find anything missing, call me on my cell.”

Through the kitchen window Meliana watched the storm clouds creep inland from the lake. The premature darkness reminded her of her wedding day when thunder had rumbled in the background of the outdoor ceremony and lightning had ultimately struck one of the three trees on the perimeter. She had to admit, no matter how it had ended, her relationship with Johnny Grand had been anything but dull.

“What are you smiling at?” Chris lounged against the counter and threw a tangerine into the air. A shrewd brow went up. “Johnny?”

She laughed. “I swear that lightning bolt was an omen.”

“You think it was funny?”

“In retrospect. Come on, Chris, we were amazing for a while.”

“And then Johnny went undercover.”

“Yes.” She sighed. “He did.” Tossing her purse onto a chair, she headed for the stairs. “I need to change. I’m having dinner with the head of surgery and his wife tonight.”

Chris followed her up. “All by your lonesome?” He clucked his tongue. “Not good, angel face. But no fear, I happen to be free.”

“I’m not. I have a date.”

He caught up with her and handed the tangerine over her shoulder. “That’s not very nice, is it? Choosing a stranger over a friend and neighbor who’s been there for you through thick and thicker?”

“If that’s an offer of help, I accept.” Amusement danced in her eyes as she turned. “It’s a blind date, with the head of surgery’s wife’s nephew. You go in my place, tell the geek you like men who giggle and I’ll go for a nice long run on the beach.”

“On second thought, I might be getting a migraine.”

“Yeah, I figured.” She started for the bathroom, then paused and backtracked.

“What?”

She regarded her top dresser drawer. It was open almost a full three inches. She always closed her drawers, not because she was a neat freak but because she’d gotten a puppy recently and he’d chewed several pieces of her clothing to shreds. On the other hand, the puppy had pretty much grown into a dog at this point.

“Mel?”

She tipped her head to the side. “That drawer was closed when I left this morning.”

Chris followed her gaze. “You think some crook bypassed your video equipment and laptop to poke through your drawers?”

“Not really. I’m sure it’s…” She opened the drawer, froze, closed it. “Nothing.”

“That nothing sounded like a whole lot of something to me.” Chris pulled on the handle, peered inside. Then he looked at her. “You keep roses in with your underwear?”

“One rose,” she corrected. “Long stemmed, white, with a sprig of baby’s breath.” She picked it up and stared. “It’s the fifth one I’ve gotten in the past month.”



“I WHIPPED UP A BIG BATCH of chili and a pot of spaghetti sauce, divided them into servings and labeled the containers.” Eileen Crawford drew air pictures as she spoke. “They’re in the freezer. You can cook pasta, right? Of course you can. There’s fresh milk in the fridge, bread, vegetables and two big packages of cold cuts. Vacuum-sealed, so don’t open the second until the first one’s gone. I’ll be back on Tuesday to tidy up the bathrooms and such. Will you be all right until then?”

Sometimes Johnny swore the woman was beamed from Mars to his doorstep twice a week as a test of earthling patience. Eileen had been cleaning houses for the residents of Blue Lake for twenty years. She was a heavyset woman with a faded Maine accent, curly blond hair and more nerve than anyone Johnny knew. And he knew or had known a great number of nervy people.

But that was in another lifetime, another world, one he didn’t care to visit these days.

He tried to ease the woman politely out the door. “Thanks, Eileen. I appreciate the food and the clean sheets.”

She shifted her handbag to her other shoulder. “You’re just like my Zack when it comes to keeping house. Where clothing lands is where it stays. Has he been around to see you lately?”

Johnny fixed a smile on his face and kept it there as he nudged her forward. “Not for a week or so.”

“Well, Sheriff Frank’s been out of town. He belongs to some order of brethren or other and they convene every year at a big hotel, so Zack’s been pushed a bit more than usual. I think there was some function he had to attend in Woodstock today. It’s all go with you law enforcement types. Constantly busy.”

How busy could one of two deputies be in a town with less than fifteen hundred year-round residents and the tourist traffic down to boaters, backpackers and fifty-five-plus couples?

“I’m sure he’ll get some time off soon.”

“When he does, you two should go bowling, or head over to the grill for a game of pool.” Eileen set a hand on her hip. “You’re so practical, the pair of you. All I want is one grandchild before I retire, and what does Zack do? He dates a tourist for two weeks, then drives her down to O’Hare and says goodbye. Doesn’t get her address, home or e-mail. I bet he never even thought to ask for her phone number.”

“Maybe she wasn’t the right one.” They were almost at the door. “Move, Shannon,” he said to his curious Irish setter. “Eileen wants to leave.”

The big dog barked and began sniffing the woman’s leg. She halted and rolled her eyes. “Doggie treats! I never gave them a thought. I’ll run some out here first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Shannon likes soda crackers. She can snack on those instead.”

“Crackers? My God, Johnny Grand, did you treat your wife like this?”

Now it was Johnny’s turn to stare. “Excuse me?”

She strengthened her grip on her shoulder strap. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I just can’t help wondering why a couple as lovely as you and Meliana broke apart. Your wife’s a skilled surgeon, and yet she bandaged more knees and treated more stings and bites whenever she came up here than Dr. Fell—rest his soul—did in all his time on the lake. The woman’s an angel.”

Wanna bet? Johnny thought with equal parts humor and regret. “She has her moments,” he agreed.

“How did you meet?”

Oh, no, she was settling in. “It’s a long story, really long. I’ll tell you about it another time. Right now…” The phone rang behind him.

“I’m expecting a call,” he lied. “An important one.”

She patted his arm. “You take it, then, and I’ll let myself out.”

“Walk her to her car,” Johnny ordered Shannon in a low voice. He picked up. “Yeah, Grand here.”

“I know you’re there, Grand, but you should be here.”

Johnny waited until Eileen was out of earshot before turning away. “Julie? Why the hell are you calling me at—” he squinted at the burled wall clock that had come with the house “—eight at night?”

“Your wife got a rose.”

He watched as Eileen’s ’81 Taurus sedan rolled off. “What?”

“Actually, she’s gotten five roses in four weeks. Long stemmed, white, from a—ha-ha—secret admirer. And those weren’t funny ha-ha’s.”

Johnny sat on the arm of the sofa. “What were they?”

“Worried. I take it your good buddy Chris didn’t call?”

“About roses? No.”

“Okay, here’s the deal. Someone tried to break in to your—her town house today around five. We thought the alarm scared the guy off. Everything looked okay inside. But later, after we’d left, Mel found a white rose in her lingerie drawer. It isn’t the first one she’s received. It is the first one that’s really violated her space. The other four didn’t involve a break-in. Also…” She took a breath and Johnny heard the faint shudder beneath it. “Some of her lingerie’s missing. She figures five or six pieces. One of them is that bustier thing she wore under her wedding dress—you know, the strapless bra slash corset slash garter belt number.”

Johnny swore. “Did she call you?”

“Yeah, but only this time. She didn’t mention the other four flowers until today. Blackburn was with her when she opened the drawer, but I figured—and I was right—he’d be as likely to contact you as cut off his foot.”

Johnny searched the low tables for his car keys. “What are you doing about it?”

“There’s not much we can do. We dusted for prints, but you know as well as I do we won’t find anything. We’ll also talk to her neighbors. So far, though, it seems like you bought into a complex where people mind their own business. Are you coming down?”

“Yeah.” He checked under the sofa cushions for the keys. “Don’t tell Mel, okay?”

“You know, I really hate it when people say that to me. She’s my friend, Johnny. She kept me from getting hysterical when I thought my mother was having a heart attack. Then she very calmly ran the tests and removed her gall bladder. I’ll give you two hours before I blab.”

“You’re all heart, Jules.”

He spotted his keys in a ceramic bowl beside the door, grabbed them along with his jacket and whistled for Shannon. “Do me another favor, okay?”

“What is it?”

“Ask Mel if she’s gotten anything else with those roses.”



IT WAS NINE O’CLOCK when Julie reappeared at her door. Meliana greeted her with a canny “You called him, didn’t you?”

Julie reddened just enough for her to see. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“Yeah, right, because I don’t know you at all, do I? We only got arrested together in Mindanao and had to spend ten days in a sinkless hellhole shouting at anyone who’d listen to us that, no, we weren’t soliciting and we certainly hadn’t been using the act as a cover to deal drugs.”

“That’s what you get for carrying white powder in your purse.”

“It was a free sample of Oscar after-bath.”

“Which we couldn’t make them understand, because they didn’t bother to run any tests and we didn’t speak the language—which I thought you said you did.”

“I speak Hawaiian, Julie. That’s a big linguistic step from the Philippines.” Because she really wasn’t annoyed, Meliana let the door swing open. “Is he coming down?”

“Unless he forgets to gas up. Always a possibility.”

“Hey, he’s my husband—I’ll make the nasty cracks.” Linking her fingers loosely behind her back, she watched her friend stride along the short corridor, pause, then glance from side to side. “Chris isn’t here, Julie. I sent him out with patrolman Dick—”

“Dirk.”

Meliana smiled. “They’re talking to Mrs. Feldman. She’s the only bona fide snoop in the area.”

“Everyone I know lives with curtain twitchers. What makes your neighbors so special?”

“Not special, professional. Most of the people around here don’t get home until six or later.”

“No latchkey kids?”

“Busy on their computers. Chris made the rounds, Jules. No one saw a thing.”

“Mmm, well, as I see it, there wasn’t enough time for the guy to have hauled butt up to your bedroom, planted the rose, swiped your lacies and hightailed it back out before we got here. That means he either did the deed while you were home and occupied, in which case he’d have had fairly free access, or he knows your security code.”

“Which he rearmed, then set off on the way out?”

Julie started for the stairs. “He stole your underwear, Mel. You can’t expect rational behavior.” She glanced up. “Is that thunder?”

“There’s a storm on the lake. Perfect backdrop for a murder mystery.”

“You need to date again,” Julie decided.

“I had a blind date lined up for tonight. That’s why I’m not as upset as I probably should be about the break-in.”

“You’re as sick as your underwear thief. Is this the dresser?”

“Top drawer. White rose lying on a folded black slip. Patrolman Dirk bagged it.”

“Was it hothouse?”

“I saw a few spots on the petals. I’d guess garden grown.”

“Thorns?”

“Shaved off.” Which unsettled her and had her rubbing her bare arms. “God, I hope he’s not spying on me.”

“They often do.”

“It’s creepy.” Meliana drew her fingers across her throat and fought a chill. “I don’t want to be a bug under a microscope.”

“It’s a burden, I’ll admit.” Julie sat on the bed and let herself sink back into the padded headboard. “Tell me the truth, Mel—are roses the only thing this guy’s left for you?”

“That I’m sure of, yes.”

“Of course, this could just be the beginning of a more frightening agenda.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“I’m a cop. I deal in facts.”

“So do I, but I don’t tend to approach patients’ families and tell them I’ll be gutting their sons and daughters.” She heard wind howling around the eaves. “Andy McRae says it’s going to be a brisk fall.”

“And he knows that because…?”

“He maintains the lawns and gardens in the complex. Means nothing, Julie. Your mother knows as much about flowers as he does.”

“Whereas you and I know nothing.” A wry expression invaded her features. “I wonder what Johnny knows?”

“More than me and less than your mom.” She heard the door slam open and bang off the wall downstairs. “Ah, good, a looming confrontation. I should have gone ahead with that date.”

Johnny rushed in as if he expected the intruder to still be there. He had his keys in his left hand and a big red dog at his heels.

Delighted, Meliana went to her knees. Shannon barked and jumped on her. “I didn’t think you’d bring her.”

When he realized there were only the two women in the room, Johnny regrouped and shot Julie a dark look. “That was a short two hours.”

“Hey, don’t blame me.” Julie stabbed a finger at Meliana. “She guessed. Count yourself lucky Blackburn didn’t find out. He’d have been a wall in your face before you got up the stairs.”

“He’d have been flat on his ass in the downstairs hallway.”

Meliana ruffled Shannon’s silky ears. “I love it when men do the testosterone thing. Johnny, do you even try putting your clothes together?”

He frowned, glanced down at his jeans, T-shirt and jacket. “What’s wrong with them?”

The brown jacket looked as if he’d slept in it, the red T was torn and frayed at the hem and his jeans were the oldest pair he owned. Meliana hid her amusement. “Nothing, I guess. Kneejerk reaction. I see Shannon swallowed your last hairbrush.”

He moved his lips in a perfunctory smile. “I wasn’t thinking personal aesthetics when I jumped in my truck and raced down here. Is the rose gone?”

“Off to the police lab to be mutilated. Are you limping?”

“Eileen Crawford cleaned today. I tripped over the magazine rack.”

“Which she undoubtedly put back in its proper place. This isn’t a big deal, Johnny.” Meliana was going to repeat that until she believed it. “Some pervert likes roses and underwear. He left one and stole the other. Maybe he just wanted something pretty to wear.”

“Or maybe he’d rather you wore it for him.”

“You’re not going to be nice and let me delude myself for a few hours, are you?”

Instead of answering, he looked around the room. “You painted.”

“Julie and I did.”

“It’s called coconut cream,” Julie told him. “We thought it was more soothing than the scary harvest gold that came with the place and Mel let you keep because you apparently grew up in a time-warp bungalow with parents who still aren’t aware that several decades have passed since the mid-seventies.”

“She means the walls looked dated.” Meliana stopped an excited Shannon from hopping onto the bed. “That’s a white-on-white quilt, handmade by Johnny’s grandmother, Shan. You didn’t have to come all the way to Chicago, Johnny. I’m having the security code changed tomorrow. And I have a dog here most of the time.”

His frown deepened. “Where is Lokie?”

“Visiting my cousin in Joliet.”

He made a disgusted sound. “The kids’ll rip her ears off.”

“If they do, I’ll kick Joey’s butt from here to Honolulu. She’ll be fine. I taught her how and when to bite.”

Julie chuckled. Then she sobered and craned her neck. “Damn. Blackburn’s coming back.”

“With his sidekick Dick?” Meliana teased.

“Dirk.”

“Trying to lighten the mood here, Jules.” Climbing to her feet, she ran her fingers through Johnny’s rumpled hair. “You look like you lost the battle with a wind machine.” When his eyes—rather stunning eyes, she acknowledged—narrowed, she let her hand fall. “I don’t think I mentioned this, and I’m not sure if it’s relevant or not, but white’s my favorite color.”

“Yes, we know that,” Johnny said.

“Lokie’s a Samoyed, also white. I found her tied up on the front porch right after you moved to Blue Lake six months ago. The vet figured she was maybe five months old.”

“I thought you said she was a gift.”

“She was. There was a ribbon around her neck with a card attached to it. It said: ‘A beautiful puppy for a beautiful woman. She’s called Lokelani.’ I thought the Raymonds left her for me when they moved. There were always new dogs popping up over there. But then the roses started coming, and I started to wonder.”

“You think the rose guy gave you a dog?”

She regarded them both, her husband the FBI agent and her friend the cop. “White dog, white rose.” She drew a deep breath. “The white dog already had a name and, FYI, Lokelani just happens to be Hawaiian for ‘heavenly rose.’”




Chapter Two


They had a brief and mildly unpleasant run-in with Chris in the downstairs hallway. Johnny and Chris had been friends of a sort once. Then Johnny had gone undercover for two years and a great many things had changed.

“He was hitting on you at our wedding,” Johnny said as he helped Meliana into his SUV. “And he jumped on the first town house that came up for sale in our complex after we moved in.”

“He likes vaulted ceilings.”

“He likes you.”

“I like him back. But like isn’t love, and I’ve told him that at least a dozen times.”

“Chris Blackburn has the ability to be selectively blind and deaf when it suits his purpose.”

Meliana grinned. “Unlike another person in this vehicle, right? Will Shannon be okay while we’re gone?”

“I gave her food, water and a big plate of soda crackers.”

“You’re corrupting her, Johnny.” Propping her foot up, she retied the lace of her sneaker. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Where, yes. Why, no. Charlie Lightfoot’s a nutcase.”

“Wrong. In actual fact, he solves nutcases.”

“By picking up psychic vibes from objects, then translating them into emotions and, occasionally, physical traits.”

“Hey, it’s highly unlikely the cops will get anywhere with this. There were no prints and no help forthcoming from Mrs. Feldman or anyone else. I want to know who stole my lingerie and why, beyond the obvious, the color white seems to be significant. I know.” She cut off his protest. “White denotes purity, innocence, virtue.”

“Virginity.”

“Uh-huh, well, he missed the boat on that one years ago. And I was never pure, innocent or especially virtuous.”

“You were a navy brat.”

“Base life had its moments, Grand. My mom made captain before she turned thirty-five. I thought it was pretty cool growing up with a parent who flew jets and got to order a lot of other people around.”

“You’re a chip off the old navy block, Mel.”

“Did you know she’s a commander now?”

“Does she know you’re a top-notch surgeon?”

“A noble and worthy profession, but not the one she wanted for me. Unfortunately, I’m not as fond of flying or of the navy as my mother is.”

“How’s your nui kaikunane, Maleko?”

“Very good,” she congratulated. “My big brother Mark’s fine. He’s doing some kind of undercover work in Honolulu. Last time I saw him he looked like a cross between a Gypsy and a pirate. Big gold earring, long hair, slick clothes.”

“Is your mom okay with that?”

“She wasn’t especially happy when he left the navy after only four years, but he’s a great cop.”

“He has the right instincts. My division leader says any time Mark wants a job, it’s there for him.”

“He’d appreciate that. Turn left here.”

“I remember where Lightfoot lives, Mel. My brain didn’t burn out totally on that assignment.”

But more damage had been done than could be easily repaired, Meliana thought with a pang. She changed the subject. “Charlie’s become a fixture on the South Side scene. He broke up with a woman last year because she wanted him to move away from there. He loves his apartment.”

“And his Deadhead music and his incense. He tried to analyze Mark’s captain’s dreams at our wedding, Mel. He’s lucky the guy was so drunk he didn’t give a damn.”

“You’re such a stickler. Charlie’s brilliant. Okay, maybe he did a few too many psychedelic drugs in the early seventies, but you like harvest gold and avocado green.”

“I grew up with them.”

“I grew up with a father who embezzled money from a pineapple factory, but I manage to keep my fingers out of the hospital funding pot. Honest to God, Johnny, you’re so by-the-book in some ways and so fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants in others. It’s like there’s two people living inside your head.”

“One head, Mel, two sides to my brain.” He turned on the radio.

Meliana studied her husband’s profile. He was gorgeous, always had been, through good times and bad. His hair, somewhere between brown and dark blond, was unkempt and far too long to be considered FBI standard. He had an incredible face, all lines, planes and angles, a devastating mouth and eyes the color of smoked charcoal. Friends used to tease them that if their kids didn’t have some form of gray eyes, it would be absolute proof that Meliana had been unfaithful.

Never could have happened, she reflected on a wistful note. She’d loved Johnny Grand with everything she had inside her—and that had been a considerable amount. Johnny said Chris had been hitting on her at their wedding. She believed him, but hadn’t noticed. She still didn’t, even in retrospect. All she remembered about that day was being deliriously happy and grateful that her father, on parole after having served six years of his ten-year sentence, had been permitted to attend.

“Summer’s heading south,” Johnny commented over the rain and music. “There was a bite in the air at Blue Lake, and a lot of the birds are gone.”

She continued to study him. “Do you get bored up there?”

“Sometimes. Then I remind myself that being there’s essential to my mental rehab, and I replace a shingle or two.”

“Does it work?”

“As rehab?” He moved a shoulder. “You tell me. Do I seem less stressed than before?”

“At the moment, yes. But not when you flew into the bedroom earlier. I’m not going to get paranoid about what happened, Johnny. I’ll talk to Charlie, get Lokie back, change my alarm code and leave the rest to Julie.”

“What about the card that came on Lokie’s collar?”

“I have it somewhere. I’ll dig it out. Turn here.”

She indicated a narrow street that read more like a downtown alley. Rusty fire-escape ladders hung from dilapidated brick and concrete buildings. Many of the windows were blacked out and the darkness and rain only reinforced the sinister atmosphere.

“It’s great here,” Meliana remarked. “Like Al Capone meets West Side Story.”

“In Dracula’s dungeon.”

“This is an old part of the city. You should see Los Angeles after sunset.”

“I have.”

And New York and Miami and Cartagena and Mexico City. “I’ll call ahead.” She punched her colleague’s number on her cell. “Heads up, Lightfoot,” she warned. “We’re here.” She slid her gaze to Johnny. “Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him.”

Johnny stared straight ahead. “I don’t want to know.”

“He says for you not to use the bathroom, and no matter how suspicious the tea smells, it’s only a Chinese herb blend.”

“You believe that?”

“I’m due in the O.R. at 11:00 a.m. I need to believe.”

Johnny, who’d had more than a few strange conversations with Charlie Lightfoot since the separation, cast dubious eyes over the ravaged balcony railings. “Babe, I hope you know what you’re doing.”



“THIS IS PRETTY.” Charlie held Meliana’s black slip up by the straps and grinned like a fool. “Where’d you get it?”

“New York City.” Meliana sat cross-legged on his sofa—at least, Johnny assumed there was a sofa under the massive Native American blanket. “Do you feel anything, Charlie?” Her eyes sparkled. “Other than hot and bothered?”

“That’s top of the list, Mel.” He ran a ringed hand over the silky fabric. “I see you at a swanky cocktail party. Nope, sorry, wedding reception.”

Johnny frowned. “Who got married?”

“One of the surgical nurses, last July. That slip’s been washed half a dozen times since then. How long do vibes linger?”

Charlie drank his tea laced with God knew what and winked at them. “Depends on the strength of the memory. Did you have fun?”

“No.”

“Ah, well, bad’s as weighty as good.” Eyes closed, he fingered the lace trim. “Relax, Johnny,” he advised. “This isn’t black magic. It’s just a little tap I sometimes have into a part of the brain most of us don’t use.”

What could he say to that? Johnny watched Meliana sip her tea while she in turn watched Charlie psychoanalyze her slip.

To be truthful, he didn’t dislike Charlie Lightfoot. He just felt a little edgy around the guy. But then, he felt edgy around most people these days. Thus his requested leave from active duty and a solo retreat to Blue Lake.

Charlie pressed three fingers to the headband he habitually wore. If he started humming, Johnny thought he’d have to leave the room. He might have to get out anyway. The air in the cramped apartment was ripe with the smells of simmering herbs, strawberry incense and two grizzled old terriers.

Charlie sat barefoot on a faded Persian carpet, across from Meliana. He wore a cotton T-shirt with a peace symbol on the chest, worn jeans and three earrings in his left lobe. His hair was as long as Johnny’s, although there wasn’t quite as much of it, and it was much darker—almost the same color as Meliana’s, in fact.

Different heritage, though. Johnny drank the beer Charlie had given him and slid his gaze to his wife. Charlie Lightfoot was half Blackfoot, half French. Meliana was one quarter Hawaiian on her mother’s side and 100 percent drop-dead gorgeous. Johnny had fantasized about her hair while he’d been undercover. It was very nearly black, extremely thick and just the slightest bit wavy. It skimmed her collarbone these days, though when he’d met her five and half years ago it had actually been several inches longer.

“Calhoun,” Charlie said clearly.

“That was the groom’s name.” Reaching out, Meliana gave the slip a tug. “Forget weddings.”

“Maybe you need to be in it for the vibe thing to work,” Johnny suggested.

“Always a possibility.” Charlie stared unblinking at the fabric. Johnny had no idea how he did it. His head was throbbing, and his eyes stung from the herbs and incense. And Jethro Tull on scratchy vinyl in the background wasn’t helping.

He massaged his temples. “Do you need the rose?”

“Could be.” Charlie bunched the slip and breathed in. “Sounds lunatic, I know, but this really does work sometimes. Tell me about the other roses, Mel.”

Johnny moved his lips into a smile. “Yes, tell both of us.”

She set her cup aside. “They appeared in different places each time. I found the first one four weeks ago on the driver’s seat of my car. The second showed up ten days later on my desk at the hospital. The third was in my locker, which wasn’t locked—yes, I know, Johnny, not smart—and the fourth found its way into my lab coat pocket. He must have slipped it to me while I was making my rounds. It could happen,” she said with a shrug. “You bump into people all the time in hospital corridors.”

“Nurses, orderlies, patients?” Charlie assumed.

“Other doctors, maintenance workers, visitors.” Meliana sighed. “Sorry. Unless I’m in the O.R., I interact with a lot of people on a daily basis.”

“No surprise there. Hey, can we put this on hold for a few minutes? I need the bathroom, and mine’s out of commission. Lucky for me, I’ve got an obliging neighbor downstairs.”

Johnny’s head was beginning to buzz. It was a bad sign. He blocked the images that wanted to creep in and focused on Meliana.

She wore jeans tonight, faded blue with a leaf embroidered on the hem of her flared left leg. Her T-shirt was pale yellow and short. Though he hadn’t gotten a good look at it yet, he could envision the tiny gold ring she wore in her navel.

She’d had it pierced on their honeymoon. He’d had his left earlobe done. The rings had been engraved with the same design as their wedding bands.

God, it felt like years ago that they’d been lounging on that beach in Papeete. They’d eaten dinner at an outdoor restaurant, watched Polynesian dancers, then returned to their cabana where it had been his turn to watch her do a hula just for him.

She’d been good, damned good.

He rolled the cold bottle of beer across his forehead and decided it might be wise to block that memory, as well. They were separated now, a nightmarish fallout from his last assignment. He’d changed, he knew it, and so did Meliana. He’d been coiled up inside when he’d returned, prone to fits of inexplicable rage. He’d feared becoming violent. He’d feared hurting Meliana.

The nightmare was over, yet, oddly, much of what had happened in the two-year interim was still available to him only in fuzzy snippets.

What the hell, he wondered in exasperation, had he been thinking, accepting a two-year undercover stint on the street?

He swore, then looked around as two pairs of eyes landed on him. Charlie had returned without him noticing it. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m bummed about the flowers.” Not a total lie. “Come on, Lightfoot, what sort of guy does stuff like this?”

Charlie resumed his modified lotus position. “Your basic pervert’ll indulge himself from time to time, but it isn’t always that drastic a scenario. Could be someone who’s lonely, a teenager with a crush. The lingerie, though, that goes deeper. Now we’re probably talking obsession, deviant thoughts.”

“How deviant?”

“I can’t…” He halted, raised his head. He had Meliana’s slip in his hands again. “Razor blade,” he said. “I see a flat razor blade being used to slice off the thorns.”

Meliana glanced at Johnny. “The thorns were removed from all the roses.”

“Who’s using the blade?” Johnny wanted to know.

“I don’t know, but he’s doing it on an old plank board, like barn wood.”

Johnny’s lashes lowered in suspicion. “Are you sure you’ve only got herbs boiling in those pots?”

Charlie laughed. “Positive. And they’re the kind you can consume without seeing pink elephants. I’m blank now, Mel. I think that’s it for tonight.”

“I’m impressed.” She braved one of the cookies he’d set out, and with it between her teeth reached for her slip. “Grateful, too.” She took a bite. “I know you get tired of the quack stigma. These are good, by the way.”

“Demerara sugar’s the secret. You can unwind now, Johnny,” he said without looking over. “Black magic’s done.”

Johnny tipped back his beer to finish it. “Chris Blackburn uses a flat-blade razor to shave.”

“So does your father,” Meliana pointed out.

“My father lives in Indianapolis.”

“Chris didn’t steal my lingerie, Johnny.”

“He knows your alarm code.”

“He’s FBI.”

“Doesn’t mean he isn’t twisted.”

The look she sent him told him clearly what her thoughts on that subject were.

A delighted Charlie shifted his gaze from one to the other. “Really cool, guys. Don’t keep anything bottled up inside.”

“Yeah, well, that’s only one bottle opened.” Johnny pushed out of his chair. “We have several more.”

“And apparently the number’s growing.” Standing, Meliana kissed Charlie’s cheek. “Thanks for the magic. Are you at the hospital tomorrow?”

“Day after. I’m holding a clinic on suppressed aggression, if anyone here’s interested.”

Johnny ignored the remark and located his keys. “You should let him touch Lokie while you’re at it.”

Charlie adjusted his headband. “Your dog? Why?”

“He was a gift,” Meliana explained. “Possibly from the rose guy.”

“A live gift, huh?” Charlie’s brow furrowed. “I’m not sure I like that.”

“Like it or not, she’s mine, and I’m keeping her. Thanks again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Johnny echoed.

Charlie caught his arm as he started to follow Meliana out. “Keep an eye on her, man. I don’t like some of those last vibes I got.”

Better and better, Johnny thought.

He took the rickety stairs to the front door. If you could call it a door. It looked more like a piece of dented metal with a faulty latch. It was a miracle the guy lived to hold clinics.

The rain had stopped. He caught up with Meliana in the parking lot. “I wasn’t looking for a fight, Mel. I just have trouble believing in psychic power.”

“Uh-huh…” She was standing dead still.

His brows came together as he regarded her. “Problem?”

“I’d say so.” Taking his wrist, she turned him so he was facing his SUV. There, written in bold white block letters across the front windshield were the words LEAVE HER ALONE!



HER 11:00 A.M. OPERATION was postponed, first by a gunshot wound, then by an acute appendix in an overtaxed E.R. Meliana didn’t mind the extra work. It kept her from thinking about roses, underwear and warnings written on the windshield of an SUV.

What if this wasn’t a harmless crush? The question whispered repeatedly in her head. It had already followed her into her dreams and haunted her through an early-morning breakfast.

Johnny had been adamant. He intended to spend the night in Chicago. Meliana had told him he could stay with her, but he’d negated the idea before she’d even gotten the words out.

It stung a little, but she understood his reasons well enough not to argue. There’d been a suppressed sort of violence about him when he’d finished his assignment, one that neither Meliana nor Johnny had been able to deal with.

After their visit to Charlie, Johnny had left Shannon with her and gone next door to sleep at Andy McRae’s house.

In his prime, Andy had managed a large garden shop in the city. Now a nimble eighty-two, he was paid by the people in Meliana’s complex to maintain the grounds. He loved his current job and did it very well. He was short and paunchy, had knobby knees and wore soda-bottle glasses. Meliana loved him. His fuzzy white hair and sweet grin reminded her of a handmade teddy bear she’d had as a child.

Johnny had told her to scream if she saw or heard anything suspicious. That included Chris Blackburn, should he happen to show up unannounced.

Times changed, Meliana reflected as she took a final stitch to close the appendix patient’s incision. One day Johnny and Chris had been allies, the next enemies.

“That’s it, Nick,” she said to the nurse beside her. “This guy’s lucky. Ten more minutes and that appendix would have ruptured.”

“Luckier than he knows,” Nick Hohlman replied. “Ten minutes sooner, and Welcher would have been the one to cut him open.”

“Welcher’s strictly day surgery, isn’t he?”

“In a perfect world, yes, but we’ve got two residents off sick, and two other surgeons on vacation.”

Meliana watched her patient’s breathing as the mask was removed. “Who scheduled that?”

“One’s on emergency leave. Dead grandmother, I think. The E.R.’s been backlogged for days. How about some coffee when we’re finished?”

She checked the monitors. “Looks good from here.” She thanked her assist and the rest of the team. “I love it when an operation goes well.”

“You love that Nick remembered to bring your Ella Fitzgerald disk down.” One of the other nurses wheeled the instrument tray aside. She grinned under her mask. “Not that I’m complaining. I had two surgeries with Dr. Bergen yesterday. He likes opera. If we hadn’t been so understaffed, I’d have developed a stomach bug and gone home to my squabbling kids.”

Nick retrieved the disk while Meliana made one last check of the patient. “This guy won’t be in recovery long,” she predicted. “He looks like a fitness freak to me.”

“If he gets a look at you,” Nick predicted, “he’ll rip his stitches out so you have to do it again.”

“You men are so superficial.” She removed her gloves and followed the gurney through the swinging door. “I never fell in love with any of the doctors I knew growing up, and two of them were incredibly hot. My mom’s chiropractor looked like a soap star.”

Nick preened. “I’ve been told I could model.”

“I have some charts to update, Nick. Let’s do the coffee thing later, okay?”

“No problem.”

He pulled off his cap. White-blond hair spiked up as if by magic. He was what Julie would call a pretty boy. At twenty-eight, he had more peach fuzz on his face than whiskers. His eyes were lake-blue, his features verging on soft, his spiky hair, minus a serious amount of gel, baby fine.

“Mel?”

She turned at the sound of her name, spotted Johnny and felt her amusement kindle. He still had clothes at their town house. He’d dug out fresh jeans and a blue T-shirt that was faded almost to white. His sneakers actually matched today, though she had no idea how he’d managed that.

“I see you found a hairbrush,” she said by way of a greeting. “Johnny, have you met Nick? He’s one of our best surgical nurses.”

“Best nurse works with best doctor. I’m here until seven tonight if you change your mind about that coffee. Nice to meet you, Mr. Maynard.”

Neither Meliana nor Johnny corrected him, but Johnny did send the man a speculative look as he walked off. “Does every guy you know have a thing for you, Mel?”

“I doubt if Nick has a thing for any female, Johnny. Rumor is he’s gay.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, darling. Why is it so cold on this floor?”

“Because the AC system’s been acting up, and until yesterday it was eighty-two degrees outside.”

“It’s sixty-two now and dropping. Did I hear your nurse friend mention coffee?”

Meliana removed her cap. “There’s usually a pot in the doctor’s lounge. Five’s warm, we can go up there.” She started for the elevator. “Did you talk to the people in Charlie’s apartment block?”

“Running the list, that would be a cat lady named Summer, a guy who makes his own vitamins, a bus driver, a stripper and two old women who’ve lived in the building since they were twenty.”

“Isn’t there a man who studies reptiles?”

“He’s in New Mexico until Thanksgiving. No sublet. Only the cat lady had anything to tell me, and it wasn’t about the writing on my windshield.”

“Please don’t say one of her cats got run over.”

“Went missing.” Johnny offered her a smile. “I’m under strict orders as an agent of the government to whom she pays her taxes to keep an eye out for a fur ball named Fluff.”

“Did you get a description?”

“I got the hell out of there. She has twenty-seven felines, Mel, in a one-bedroom apartment. Eight of them were abused by their previous owners. They don’t like men, and five of them have claws like grizzly bears.”

“At least Summer’s heart’s in the right place.” Meliana glanced back along the corridor as the elevator door slid open. “I think Nick took my disk.”

“Ella?”

“Her greatest hits.”

“Maybe he’s planning to return it to you tonight, at home.”

“And maybe you’re looking for ulterior motives where none exist. Nick’s more likely to want you than me.”

“Thanks for that.”

She pushed five, then patted his cheek. “Take it as a compliment.”

“I took the card that was attached to Lokie’s collar to the police today, but I’m not holding my breath they’ll be able to make anything of it.”

“It looked computer generated. Obviously this guy wants to remain anonymous. Would you rather go to my office for coffee?”

“Why? Do I seem uncomfortable here?”

She laughed. “You act in hospitals the way I act around open heights.”

“White-knuckled.”

She pressed seven. “I want this to be nothing, Johnny. I could’ve convinced myself it was if I hadn’t seen the writing on your windshield last night. He followed us to Charlie’s place.”

Johnny leaned against the wall while the large elevator worked its way upward. “He was warning me last night, Mel, not you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better. And don’t say you’re trained to deal with stuff like this. No one’s ever really equipped to handle an unstable person. It’s like playing dodgeball with a bottle of nitro.”

The doors opened. Warm air flooded in and with it the smell of lavender.

“Better than disinfectant,” Johnny remarked. “How do you stand it? All the death and sickness and open wounds.”

She turned left. “You put it into perspective and remind yourself you’re here to help people feel better, to make sure they live instead of die.”

“And when they die anyway?”

“Then you try and remember the ones who didn’t.”

“Sounds like a tall order to me.” His brows came together. “Did you change offices?”

“I got a window when Dr. Morrison retired. He left his coffeemaker. It usually works.” She regarded him in mild concern as he scanned the desk, the filing cabinet and her new lake view. “I think you should go back to Blue Lake, Johnny. Today. This guy, whoever he is, probably won’t do any more than he’s already done.” She hoped.

“In other words, you think I’ll flip out if I stay in Chicago much longer.”

“The unofficial recommendation was for you to avoid work-related stress for a while.”

“It’s been six months, Mel.”

“You were undercover for two years.” And the eight brief times she’d seen him during that period had shown a marked deterioration, both in his attitude and his demeanor. He’d been less and less Johnny Grand and more and more John Garcia, cold, hard and abusive. Not to her, at least not physically, but in every other way.

“I was…” Johnny began, but Meliana set a finger on his lips and glanced at her pager.

“I have to go to the nurses’ station. Coffee’s in the cabinet under the machine. I might be a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait.”

He had that stubborn look on his face. She’d seen it too many times to bother arguing. There were other, more effective ways to get around Johnny when he dug in.

“Oh, good, Dr. Maynard, you’re here.” The desk nurse came to the counter. “Mrs. Lund’s been rescheduled for three o’clock. There’s a cyst on two that Dr. Hilton wants to go over with you, and this came up an hour ago from Main Reception.”

She handed over a padded brown envelope.

“No return address,” Meliana noted.

“At least you can figure you’re not being sued. Law firms make sure their names are front and center. Anyway, I think this was hand delivered.”

Meliana glanced toward her office. Then she thanked the nurse and took the envelope along the hall to the solarium.

There were two patients in wheelchairs enjoying the plants and filtered sunshine. Meliana kept her hand steady as she opened the flap. There was no street name on the mailing label, no stamp or express post tag. Had it come from inside the hospital or out?

Mood music played softly in the background. Several more jarring sounds thrummed in her head.

Her stomach clenched as she removed a pair of silver-white stockings, tied with a white ribbon and topped with a white bow. Attached to the bow was a small white card.

“I’m going to change my favorite color,” she murmured, and drew a curious stare from one of the patients.

She turned toward the window, breathed in and read the message.

Accept this token of my love, Meliana

Accept my love.

Accept me.

We are meant to be.




Chapter Three


Johnny returned to Blue Lake late that afternoon. He’d felt something black and ugly pressing in on him, a stream of memories and reactions he was neither prepared to handle nor capable of offsetting.

He needed to breathe, to recenter himself and find his focus. It wasn’t so much that he’d lost it—his world since he’d met her had been Meliana—but having been immersed in a seductively evil role for so long, he tended to stray into rather unpleasant areas from time to time.

He phoned Julie as he drove north.

“She’s holding something back,” he said. “She’s a good actress, but I could see it in her body language, in the way she was moving and walking.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Julie promised. “You’re only an hour away, Johnny.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow. I just need a little time to chill and think.”

He ended the call and ordered himself to be steady. He could chill out over the past while he thought about the present.

What did this rose guy want from Meliana? How far would he go to get it? Was Meliana in danger?

Johnny frowned, glanced in his rearview mirror. He should have stayed in Chicago, should have taken his wife out for dinner. He could have worked on her until she’d agreed to come to Blue Lake with him.

Easily said in retrospect, not so easily done with Meliana. When she was on call or the hospital was short staffed, a bulldozer couldn’t budge her from the city.

The lakeside house was dark when he arrived. He unlocked the door, went in and switched on the first lamp that came to hand. He was heading for the fridge and a cold beer when a pair of headlights slashed across the front window.

Johnny recognized the shape of the cruiser, made it two cans and dropped onto the sofa.

“Door’s open, Zack,” he said through the screen.

“I took a chance and swung past on my way back from Woodstock.” Deputy Zack Crawford caught the beer Johnny tossed him. He looked around the tidier-than-usual main room. “Either Meliana’s back, or my mother’s been here. I’m guessing my mother.”

Johnny rested his head on the cushions. “I’m in trouble. She’s started making dinners and freezing them for me.”

“She needs someone to fuss over, and I’ve been out of town a lot lately.”

“Business?”

Zack sat on the ottoman and popped his beer. “You could say that. I’m taking a course—paramedic training. I signed up in late spring and still have a fair distance to go, but when I’m done, I’ll be able to get out of here and down to the city.”

“Why not train to be a cop?”

“Being a deputy’s what I fell into, Johnny, not what I wanted. It’s all about saving people’s lives, right? I’m tired of slapping kids’ wrists in the summer and making sure old Harry Riley gets home from the bar in the winter. Just do me a favor, and don’t tell my mother.”

“She doesn’t know?” Johnny took a long drink. “How’d you manage that?”

“I lied.”

“Good a way as any, I guess.”

Standing, Zack crossed the floor to the large side window. He had a build similar to Johnny’s, lean and rangy, with long legs and blond-brown hair. That’s where the resemblance ended. Zack’s eyes were green and his nose was slightly skewed from a bad break in high school. He brushed his hair back from a cleanly sculpted face, had a quick grin, a bad knee and a small scar on the left side of his jaw.

“What are you looking at?” Johnny asked when Zack peered around the blind.

“Just wondering if you can see Tim Carrick’s place from here. Mrs. Wilmot at the post office swears she saw him walking naked in the woods last week.”

“Tim’s the hairy guy with the beer gut, right?”

“Have you seen him around?”

“Not naked, but yeah, I see him all the time on weekends. He was loading his pickup with old crates last Sunday.”

“Strange guy.” Zack sipped his beer. “You see him up here, you think he’s a hillbilly, right? But he’s a salesman during the week. Pharmaceuticals. He walks naked in the woods, glares at everyone he meets, then takes off to the city and pushes his company’s pills on anyone who’ll listen. It’s no wonder his wife left him.”

“Was she the woman I used to hear shouting in Spanish?”

“Portuguese. Her name’s Vivianne. Meliana knew her. She was half English, half Brazilian. They watched Wheel of Fortune sometimes over at Tim’s place when Mel came up for the weekend. She took off about a year ago.”

“Back to Brazil?”

“Miami, I heard. Tim doesn’t talk about her, and most of us are too weirded out by the guy to press. Man, I tell you, I like it here, but I won’t be sorry to lose this place. Small-town dynamics and all. You’re lucky you’re FBI. People hesitate before poking their nose into a federal agent’s business.” Zack regarded his watch. “Ten-thirty. If I want out, I’d better hit the books.”

“Are you on duty tomorrow?”

“Four hours’ worth. Phil and I are pulling part-time shifts right now. Sheriff Frank got back from his Shriner’s convention in Gary today. I’ll catch you later, Johnny. Keep an eye out for Tim.”

Just what he needed, Johnny reflected, a nudist neighbor who liked to walk in the woods. A man who no longer lived with his wife. A guy with two different and distinct sides to his personality.

Disgusted with himself, Johnny got off the sofa and made a circle of the room. He shouldn’t be here. He’d given in to a moment of panic and flown. He could handle city life—he’d done it for years. Meliana had urged him to go, he’d felt the pressure building in his head, he’d caved and fled. What a wuss he’d turned into.

He gnawed on the side of his lip, glanced at his jacket, then released a breath and snatched it off the hook. Keys. Where? He searched the room twice, felt his pockets. There was nothing except an old shopping list inside.

He checked the top of the fridge, then his computer desk. He had e-mail, he noticed and gave the mouse a tap.

It wouldn’t be Mel. She preferred the phone. And his supervisors in Chicago weren’t likely to…

The thought dried up, simply vanished when the message appeared on screen. His blood turned to ice as he read it.

MELIANA’S MINE.

YOU TOUCH HER, YOU DIE.

MELIANA WAS UPSTAIRS in her home office, reviewing the file of a patient scheduled for surgery the next day, when she heard the commotion outside. Her brows went up as she checked her desk clock. Twelve minutes past midnight?

The men’s voices grew louder. She recognized them, and for a moment rolled closer to the window to listen.

“Fat lot of help you’ve been, Grand. You hang around for less than a day, then rush back up to your lakeside retreat so you can bury your head in the sand. If that’s your plan of action, you should stay there and leave the dirty work to those of us who can handle it. Man, do you think about anyone but yourself these days? Some creep waltzes in here, plants a flower in your ex’s lingerie drawer and steals some of her stuff. The cops shrug their shoulders, you take off and, meanwhile, some sicko’s running around with only his crazy brain cells functioning. It’s depraved.”

“Done yet?” Johnny asked when he ran out of breath. Meliana recognized the tone. She closed her eyes as she heard Chris’s muffled “Oomph.”

However, knowing Chris as she did, she imagined he’d given Johnny a hard shove or two to punctuate his earlier points.

No matter what he’d been through, Johnny wouldn’t use his fists unless he was pushed right to the wall. In the case of Chris Blackburn, that wall might be mere inches from Johnny’s back, but he still wouldn’t have precipitated a physical fight.

Shannon reached the front door ahead of her. Lokie, who’d been returned to her that evening, lagged behind.

“Coward,” she accused, and gave the dog’s head a scratch.

Lokie barked and sniffed her hand for a treat as she opened the door.

“Who do you think you are?” Chris demanded, red faced.

He was broader than Johnny and taller by about three inches, yet somehow Johnny’s presence always managed to dwarf him. Still, Chris outweighed Johnny by a good forty pounds. In an all-out fight, that could present a problem.

Motioning for the dogs to stay back, Meliana leaned on the doorjamb and regarded the pair of them.

“This is my house, and you’re trespassing.” Johnny pitched his voice lower than Chris. He wouldn’t shout unless it was absolutely necessary. “Go home, Blackburn.”

Chris responded by shoving him again. “This is Mel’s house. You moved out, remember? She lives here, I live two doors down and you have no business being here.”

Meliana caught the gleam in Johnny’s dark eyes and cleared her throat. “Don’t like to spoil your fun, guys, but you’re making a lot of noise for this time of night.”

“Andy wears earplugs.” Chris shot Johnny a hostile look. “He’s the only neighbor within range, and anyone in the park at this time of night doesn’t care what we’re doing.”

“I care.”

“Yeah, well, I caught your ex skulking in the bushes.”

“He’s not my ex,” Meliana reminded him. “Johnny has every right to be here, Chris.”

Johnny rested his butt on the iron rail. “Nice try, though. Now tell her what you were doing.”

Chris’s fingers twitched. “I was checking the place for perverts.”

“By sitting in the backyard and staring up at her bedroom window? He was waiting for you to go to bed, Mel,” Johnny said with contempt.

Meliana hooked his arm and drew him toward the door. “You’re like two kids fighting over a toy. Thanks for the thought, Chris, but I’m fine. You can take off.”

The look he sent Johnny smoldered. “I’ll hear if she screams.”

Meliana held fast to Johnny’s arm while Chris stalked away. “Let it go, okay? You copped an assignment he wanted. He resents you for it. Maybe it even scares him a little, seeing how it affected you. He could have been the one who almost got swept under. The outcome might have been worse if it had.”

“Blackburn’s got a granite skull. He’d have come out of it just fine.”

“Now you’re flattering him?” Meliana urged the dogs inside and closed the door. “This balled-fist stuff you guys do totally baffles me. Are you friends or not?”

“Not. One guy wants another guy’s wife, he’s no friend.”

“Remove me from the picture. Closer then?”

“Unlikely.” Johnny scowled. “Maybe. I don’t know. Are you all right?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“No more roses?”

Guilt and a trace of renewed fear trickled in, replacing amusement. “Not so far.” She rubbed her palm on the leg of her jeans. “Do you want coffee?”

He hesitated. “You were working, weren’t you?”

“Homework for an op tomorrow. I’m clear on the details. Why did you come back?”

“Because I felt like a wimp for leaving.”

“You plowed a fist into Chris Blackburn’s stomach. I wouldn’t call that wimpy.”

In the kitchen doorway he stopped, brows raised. “You changed the appliances.”

“They were my grandmother’s.”

“Were?”

Meliana opened the stainless steel fridge. “She died fourteen months ago, Johnny. I was going to tell you when your assignment was done, but—well, I didn’t.”

Johnny swore, raked a hand through his hair and began to pace. “I liked her.”

“I know. There was no funeral, only a memorial service on Maui. She wanted me to have her appliances. They were brand-new, and she knew how much I love to cook.”

“Hell.” Johnny dropped onto a tall counter stool. “I should have been there.”

She pushed two plates, a knife and half a coconut cake into his hands. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you can’t change. No one expected you to come, least of all me. I knew you were FBI when I married you. Anyway—” she ran a teasing finger along the line of his jaw “—I wasn’t alone.” His expression went from blank to suspicious so quickly that she laughed. “My brother was there, and Julie flew over with me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You want me to tell you what I’m thinking right now?”

“No.” Because he wasn’t doing it, she picked up the knife and sliced into the cake. “But I think I should tell you something.”

“Good or bad?”

“You decide.” She licked frosting from her thumb. “The rose guy sent me a pair of white stockings, tied with a white ribbon and bow.”

Johnny trapped her chin. “It was this afternoon, wasn’t it? When you left your office.”

“The package was hand delivered, or at least hand placed. No one downstairs remembers receiving it. Reception said it just appeared. Probably true.”

His eyes held steady on hers. “Did you give it to Julie?”

“Not yet. I handled everything carefully—not that I think there’ll be prints.”

“Where’s the stuff?”

“Upstairs in my office.” She waited a beat, then added. “There was a card.”

“Damn it, Mel.”

She raised the cake knife. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not being stupid, and I’m not taking this lightly. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell you first or Julie.”

“What did the card say?”

She sighed. “‘Accept this token of my love, Meliana. Accept my love. Accept me. We are meant to be.’”

Anger sparked in his eyes. “And you sat on this?”

One thing Johnny Grand had never been able to do was browbeat her. She leaned forward on her elbows and said clearly, “Yes, I did. Make a fuss, and I’ll take my cake and leave you here in the dark.”

Johnny regarded her for several long seconds, then made a sound in his throat and reached into his back pocket. “This came for me today while I was here in Chicago. I sourced it to a South Side Internet Café.”

Meliana scanned the brief message. It was more malevolent than hers and, as a result, far more frightening.

“He threatened your life.” She glanced at the living-room window, visible across the open island. “Why do I think he’s serious?”

“Because people like this exist, Mel. Always have, always will.”

“Why choose me? And you?”

“Because you’re beautiful, bright and talented. And he figures I might be in the way….” He paused, looked away. “I think.”

She was quick enough to follow his sudden shift of thought. “This has nothing to do with your work, Johnny. Anyone who might want to hurt you the way you’re thinking would simply put a bullet through my head.”

“Not everyone uses a simple approach, Mel. One guy I was involved with prefers torture to a shot in the head. His name’s Enrique Jago. If something’s illegal, he’ll take it on. He pimps his own wife to business associates. My contact thought he might have made me near the end.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t think so, but I could be wrong.”

She quashed the tendrils of uneasiness in her stomach. “Why would he send me roses? It’s a form of torture, I’ll admit, but there are much nastier versions if he’s really into it.”

“He’s different with women.”

“In what way?”

Johnny leaned forward, trapped a strand of her hair and brought it to his lips. His lashes shielded his eyes as he replied in flawless Spanish, “To invoke terror in the heart of a woman is to be granted power over her. Total power. The power to choose whether she lives…” Using her hair, Johnny tugged her forward until their lips touched. “Or whether,” he whispered against her mouth, “she dies.”

The last thing Meliana wanted to do was kiss him. It would get her all tangled up again, and she still wasn’t untangled from their separation. But she let herself tumble in because that’s how it had always been between them. A quick fall followed by a fiery meltdown.

She opened herself to him, let him explore while she touched him, tasted him, inhaled him—and tried very hard not to let reason sneak in.

He slid a hand into her hair, cupped her head and held her in place while he quite literally ravaged her mouth.

Deep kisses, she thought in a daze. They numbed her mind and sent her emotions spinning out of control. Only Johnny could do this to her. Only Johnny had ever really done anything to her. Only he had ever hurt her.

She wanted to push against his chest, but she didn’t rush it. The heat of him made her want to slide in deep and stay there. It wouldn’t be a safe or secure place, but it would be exciting. And Meliana lived for excitement. Or she had once.

She pressed her palm to his heart, felt it beating hard and fast against his ribs. “Johnny, stop,” she managed, and drew back. “Just—stop.”

He did, with an effort that was visible even to her blurred mind.

He closed those stunning eyes of his and let his head fall forward. “Sorry,” he said, then gave a soft laugh and breathed out, “No, I’m not.”

In his real life he’d never been much of a liar. Meliana collected what composure she could and stepped away. When she saw the dogs staring at them with lolling tongues, she found her sense of humor and felt a smile work its way across her lips.

“We had to go and complicate a perfectly workable situation, didn’t we?”

“I did it, Mel. You just…”

“Tripped and fell against your mouth?”

“If it keeps things level, yeah.”

She hesitated a moment, then brushed the hair from his face. “Nothing’s ever been level for us, Johnny. Not then or now.”

“And we’re doing our utmost to see that it stays that way.” He flicked a finger between them. “This is why I slept at Andy’s last night and will again tonight.”

She glanced next door. “He’ll love you for waking him at this hour. Andy’s sleeping habits tend to follow the sun.”

“He got a parking ticket last week. I’ll ask Julie to fix it. That’ll square us. Can I take the cake?”

She nodded, but stopped him before he could leave. “It wasn’t your fault, Johnny.”

From the doorway, he regarded her. “Tonight or overall?”

“Both. I don’t need to blame you for anything.”

“You never did.” He sent her a miserable look and wrapped his fingers briefly around the door frame. “But I do.”



SHE WOULD KEEP HER BALANCE, Meliana promised herself. She repeated that every time her thoughts strayed into dangerous territory for the next three days.

Johnny hadn’t meant to mess with her head, or her emotions, but how could he not when she’d loved him so much it hurt. Still did love him, if she was honest with herself. Always would, no matter how divergent their life patterns became.

He’d worried that she would grow to fear him. Although she never had, she’d glimpsed the violence inside him. They’d fought, bitterly, when he’d returned. Over what, Meliana couldn’t say, but at the root of it had been both a lifestyle and an alter ego he’d embraced just a little too fully for a little too long.

Determined not to dwell on that now, she went about her business as usual at the hospital.

She made her rounds, turned the envelope, stockings and card over to Julie, covered the overload in the E.R. and even sat in on one of Charlie’s clinics for twenty minutes during an afternoon break.

The man was amazing. She knew serious skeptics who were willing to give his methods a try.

“He’s a whacko genius.” Julie came up behind Meliana, who’d paused in the doorway to observe Charlie’s newest group. “Do you think he does hypnotism?”

“I doubt it.” Meliana swiveled her head. “Are you looking to get hypnotized?”

“No, I’m looking first for you, whom I’ve found, and second for Sam, who’s been complaining of headaches again.”

Sam Robbins was Julie’s stepbrother, a quiet young man with a talent much more freakish to Meliana’s mind than Charlie Lightfoot’s. He was one of those rare people who could scan a page in a phone book and memorize it instantly, names and numbers.

“Sam’s probably downstairs unloading food trays.” Meliana gave Charlie a quick wave before closing the door. “I’ll talk to Elizabeth Truman in Neurology. Maybe she can schedule a round of tests. It could be that Sam’s brain takes too much in at one time and can’t cope with the overload of information. Tell him to stop reading for a while.”

“Maybe I’ll send him fishing with Johnny up at Blue Lake. No praise intended, and no idea why, but Johnny’s really good with Sam. Must be a big-brother thing.”

“You’re worried about him, aren’t you?”

“A little. Don’t forget, his father died of a brain aneurysm.”

“I’ll talk to Liz,” Meliana promised. “So what’s the deal with the stockings?”

“Zip so far. Whoever this guy is, he’s taking all the necessary precautions. Is Johnny still around?”

“He went back to Blue Lake. Broken pipe in the downstairs bathroom. Eileen Crawford found it when she came to clean.” She nodded forward. “There’s Sam now.”

“With an overstuffed cart as usual.”

“It’s a long way down to Food Services.” Meliana grinned. “He’s saving himself a trip.”

“Sam!” Julie called.

He halted so abruptly he almost rolled the cart into a housekeeping trolley.

“Head in the clouds,” Julie muttered.

“Hi, Sam,” Meliana greeted. She saw him press his temple under a messy cap of dark curls. “Headache?”

“They come and go.” He sent her an affable grin. “Julie says it’s all the junk food I eat.” The smile faded and he stared at her lab coat. “Your pager’s going off.”

“It is?” Surprised, Meliana felt her pocket. “I don’t hear it.”

He regarded her with innocent brown eyes. “That’s because it hasn’t…”

When the device began to beep, Meliana and Julie both frowned at him.

“It just—came to me,” he said and checked the cart for slippage. “I need to get this downstairs. Later, okay?”

Meliana started for the nurses’ station. “This is a new thing, right?”

“I have no idea.” Julie strode along beside her. “Do you think—He couldn’t be, like, psychic or something, could he? I mean, we use psychics from time to time on impossible cases. My captain half believes they’re for real.”

“That seemed pretty for real to me,” Meliana said. “Problem?” she asked the duty nurse.

“You’re needed in Emergency, Dr. Maynard. We’ve got a four-car pileup with injuries.”

“On my way. Try not to see it as a burden,” she said to Julie as they took the elevator down. “Call it a gift, and let Neurology check him out.”

“Yeah, sure. Mel.” Julie caught her wrist as the door opened. “I’m only a little spooked about Sam. I’m worried about you. This rose guy could be totally deluded. At the very least he’s got a big problem. And you’re sitting right at the heart of it.”



I’M ANGRY. I’ve been that way for days now. It’s not Meliana’s fault, it’s her ex-husband’s. Except he isn’t her ex yet, which is partly why I’m angry.

I warned him to stay away from her. He didn’t listen. I’m going to make him listen.

Meliana will understand. She has to. I don’t know why she lets him into her house. It’s her house, not his, not anymore. They’re finished. Meliana’s mine now. My dream will come true.

I won’t let him come back into her life. I hope she understands that. I can’t believe she’d want him back.

I think I might have to hurt him.




Chapter Four


“I’ve heard about Blue Lake.” Nick followed Meliana out of the O.R., whipped off his cap and held her Ella Fitzgerald disk up between two fingers. “I burned this a couple nights ago, along with Coldplay and Janice Joplin.”

“That’s quite the combo, Nick.”

“I have eclectic taste. But actually, I did Janice for Dr. Lightfoot. That’s why I mentioned Blue Lake. Word is, he’s thinking of buying a retreat outside the city, and he knows you have one there.”

“Bit of a story attached to that, but yes, I do.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” She slid her gaze sideways. “I might not answer it, though.”

“Are you and your husband together or separated?”

It hurt more than it should by now. “We’re not together, Nick.”

He beamed. “That’s twenty bucks to me.”

Meliana wasn’t surprised. Bets based on gossip flowed more freely around the hospital than tap water. “Who’s the loser?”

“A guy in Administration. So—I’m having a wine-tasting party next weekend. You’re invited. I plan to cover California, France, Italy and Australia.”

“If I’m off the duty roster, I’ll think about it.” She paused outside her office. “Do you know Sam Robbins?”

“Only through you.”

“Have you ever sat and talked to him?”

“Once or twice. He seems a bit Forrest Gump–like to me, but I know he shot through business administration in college.”

“He’ll be running Food Services in a few years,” Meliana predicted, “whether officially or not.”

“Do you want me to invite him to my party?”

“I want to know what it is about him that makes his memory so instantaneous and so incredible.”

“Ah, you’d like me to ask my grandfather what the deal is with someone like him.” Nick tugged on his spiky hair to straighten it. “No problem, but I’m not sure, even with all the studies he’s done on the human brain, that Granddad will have an answer for you. Sometimes life just throws people a weird curve. Like Dr. Lightfoot and his touchy-feely stuff. Granddad thinks Lightfoot’s a quack. But I’ll ask about the memory thing for you. Next Saturday night, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.”

They parted company at the elevator. Inside, Meliana checked her watch. It was after seven. She’d been working steadily since 9:00 a.m. She could handle that. However, she hadn’t been able to reach Johnny at Blue Lake since yesterday, and that was a worry.

She could call Eileen or Zack or even the sheriff, but if he was simply looking for down time, Johnny wouldn’t appreciate being monitored.

She mulled it over and decided to try one more time. In her office she picked up the phone and punched his number. Twenty rings later, she stared at the handset and sighed. “Where the hell are you, Grand?” Vexed with herself more than him, she skirted her desk. “Why do you care, Meliana? Separated, remember? Time to let go.”

Her chair was rolled partway out, angled toward her computer. She swung it around, then hissed in a breath and took a quick backward step.

A single white rose lay crosswise on the seat.



SHE MADE IT TO THE HOUSE at Blue Lake before 9:00 p.m. Only one light burned inside, a lamp on a table next to the front door. Meliana considered, then knocked. “Johnny?”

There was no answer. At her side, Lokie and Shannon barked.

She tried again, louder. “Johnny, are you here?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

His voice came from behind her, and she spun. Whatever she’d planned to say dissolved in her throat. He was covered with mud and grease, he had a rag wrapped around his right hand and he looked thoroughly out of sorts.

It had to be the expression on his face that caused her lips to twitch. “Problem?” she asked in her most ingenuous tone.

The look he sent her had a decided bite. “Where do you want me to start? With my truck, the gusher in the toilet, or the fire?”

“Fire?” She grabbed the dogs’ collars to keep them from jumping on him. She sniffed, but smelled nothing except trees and lake water. “Where?”

“In the shed.”

She glanced around his arm. “It looks fine from here.”

“Check out the far side, Mel. It’s toast.”

She kept a firm hold on the dogs. “How did it start?”

“Local fire chief’s gonna let me know that when he figures it out, which should be by next Easter. Until then, I’m guessing arson.”

Something twisted in her stomach. “Arson’s a pretty drastic conclusion, Johnny. It could’ve been someone smoking in the woods.”

“It could also have been a gas bomb.”

“Right.” Meliana gave up. “What happened to your truck?”

“Two flat tires, with only one spare to replace them. And it wouldn’t start.”

“Someone got under the hood.”

“Unless a squirrel made off with three of my spark plugs and disabled the carburetor.”

Meliana pushed both dogs to a sitting position. They wanted to hunt the bullfrogs that were croaking in the reeds by the lake. “Stay,” she ordered and had to trust that Lokie would follow Shannon’s lead. “This day’s really not improving. What about the gushing toilet?”

Johnny blew at the hair in his eyes. “That could have happened on its own. The plumber who fixed the broken water pipe Eileen discovered also runs Eddy’s Spaghetti House. He had a party of twenty booked in for dinner last night. I sensed his mind was on his meat sauce while he was here. He capped the geyser and told me to use the upstairs bathroom until he can get a better look at the problem.”

“Right. Fire, spark plugs, toilet. Now tell me why your answering machine and cell are turned off? I’ve been calling since last night. I even e-mailed you this afternoon.”

He rubbed his grimy hands in distaste. “My cell’s dead, Eileen moved the answering machine so I walked through the cord and tore it out of the wall, and you never use e-mail to contact me so I tend not to check it. I called you twice at the hospital today. Despite the usual runaround, I got the impression you were in surgery pretty much nonstop. That meant you were okay, so I didn’t leave a message.” Concern crept in as he cocked his head to survey her. “Did something happen after my last call? Has Chris…?”

She waved him off. “Nothing like that. Chris is out of town until Monday.”

“Some hero.”

“I don’t need a hero, Johnny.”

He took a step toward her, a dangerous step, to her way of thinking.

“I got another rose,” she told him. “At the hospital, in my office. Sometime between four and seven this evening.”

His head fell back, and he gave a humorless laugh. “Not in tune with the cosmos at all, are we?”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that sort of thing.”

“What I don’t believe is how easily this guy slips in and out of your world. Home, office, car. No one sees him….” He stopped. “No one saw him, right?”

“I asked all around the seventh floor. No one noticed anything unusual.”

“So either he’s ridiculously lucky or he sees all and knows exactly when to leave his goodies. Or steal them, as the case may be.”

For the first time, Meliana detected the smell of scorched wood. Her gaze traveled around the open yard to the shed. “You think the rose guy burned the shed and disabled your truck, don’t you?”

“I think it’s very likely.”

“So do I.” The knots in her stomach tightened. “He’s watching me, Johnny, and he doesn’t like you. You need to stay here, and let Julie do what she can in Chicago.”

“I know cops, Mel.” He closed in on her, but was thankfully too dirty to touch. “Julie’s a cog in a big regulation wheel. She won’t be able to do much, no matter how good her intentions. Flowers and petty theft don’t amount to a great deal in the eyes of the police.”

“Julie’s a friend.”

“I’m your husband.”

She lifted her hair from her neck so the lake air could reach her skin. “We’re separated, Johnny, and you’re not supposed to be involved in any kind of investigation right now. On a more dangerous note, you’re also supposed to be discreet about any action you undertake, in case someone you were involved with as John Garcia did happen to make you.”

He used a knuckle to tip her chin up. “You’ve been talking to Blackburn, haven’t you?”

“Not about you.” She let her hair fall. “I watched you change over time, from the man I married to a man I stopped recognizing as my husband. I didn’t grow up in a bubble, Johnny. I’ve seen people get sucked into bad situations. With you, I saw an evolution. It wasn’t healthy, and it certainly wasn’t pretty. You seem so much better these days. I don’t want you to slide backward.”

“I won’t.”

“You could. John Garcia’s a part of you now. You created a persona, and for two years it became your reality. You lived it, breathed it, worked it. When they pulled you out, the FBI considered putting you in a witness protection program. They would have if you hadn’t been so adamant that your cover hadn’t been blown.”

“I didn’t think it had.”

“But now you’re not sure. Enrique Jago might be out there looking for revenge. And what would he do? He’d stalk me. He’d distract you. He’d make you look in my direction when really it’s you he wants.”

Johnny lowered his lashes. He was silent for a moment. Then, with his mouth mere inches from hers, he said, “This stuff’s coming off the top of your head, isn’t it?”

Absurd amusement rose in her throat. It had to be his delivery coupled with his speculative expression. He’d always been able to make her laugh at the most inappropriate moments.

“This isn’t funny, Johnny.” Although she had invented most of what she’d said on the fly. Suddenly, though, she couldn’t remember why or think of anything other than the fact that she wanted to jump him.

The knuckle under her chin slid along her jaw until all of Johnny’s fingers were wrapped around her neck. “Tell me again how I get sucked into bad situations.”

She felt a shiver work its way upward from her belly. “You’re the worst possible situation for me, Johnny. We agreed on that six months ago.”

His lips grazed hers. “And your point is?”

Impulse kicked in. Knocking reason aside, Meliana grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him against her. “I hate you, Johnny Grand.”

“Me, too,” he said and, angling his mouth over hers, began to devour.



SHE WOULD HAVE GONE UP to the loft bedroom with him, and he would have taken her there in a second, but both dogs began to bark, and the headlights that swept over them preceded the blast of a horn.

“Okay, you two, knock it off,” Julie called out the car window. “You’ve got visitors, and one of them had her most recent date interrupted by a friend whose underwear got scoffed.”

Johnny hated to think what he’d have done at that moment had his other persona been in place. But he was Johnny Grand, making out with his wife in the front yard of their summer home. A snarl was the nastiest reaction he could manage, and only Meliana heard it.

He saw her silvery eyes twinkle as she whacked his hands away. “He got me all dirty,” she said to Julie, then added a softer “Though I could have handled getting a lot dirtier” for him.

Johnny ground his teeth. He was grateful he’d worn loose-fitting pants. He swung to face the car, saw two doors open and scowled. “What are you doing here, Lightfoot?”

“Don’t sweat it. I bumped into Julie at the hospital after Mel left. We got to talking about roses, silk stockings and e-mail threats, so I tagged along.”

Meliana gave Charlie’s cheek a peck. “Are you going to feel out Johnny’s computer?”

“It’d be a first. As it happens, I’m also on the lookout for somewhere to hold a series of clinics I’m having, examining the effects of a tranquil environment on the super-stressed mind.”

“Already been done a hundred times,” Johnny said.

Charlie tapped his temple. “Not my way, it hasn’t. Any ideas for a group of, say, fifteen, Mel?”

“There’s the Blue Lake Inn or Reddings on the Lake—that’s a motel. Or you could rent a house. Lots of people here own large properties that they rent out in the off-season. That’d be about now, actually.”

“Sounds good.” Charlie nodded past her. “Why’s Johnny all dirty?”

Julie lifted her head. “I smell burned wood.”

Johnny started forward. “It’s been a long day. I’ll close up my truck. Mel can explain.”

“Mel can tell them what happened,” Meliana agreed. “She can’t really explain.” She pushed the dogs toward the house. “I’ll make coffee, Charlie, and show you the computer while Johnny cleans up.”

“I’ll make coffee,” Johnny mimicked, heading for his truck. “We’ll have a party. Charlie can feel up Johnny’s computer. Oh, hell,” he swore as another set of headlights bounced along the road toward him. “Why not invite everyone we know.”

Zack braked and climbed out. “You look as ticked as I feel.” He wiped his hands on an old towel.

“You look dirtier than me,” Johnny countered. He slammed the hood of his truck. “Is there a problem in town?”

“Five vehicles got rolled into Stokes’ Bog last night. Phil and I have been there since dawn helping to haul them out. We managed four, the fifth’s stuck on something. And you wonder why I’d rather be a paramedic. How’s your busted pipe?”

“Capped.” Because he didn’t feel like picking them up and it wasn’t supposed to rain, Johnny kicked his tools under the SUV.

Zack leaned on the top of his car door. “Sounds like you’ve had a lousy day, too. I was hoping for a beer.”

Johnny had been hoping for a whole lot more than that. “Mel’s here.” He searched his pockets for his keys. “And some friends from the city.”

“Rain check, then.” Zack raised a hand at Meliana, who’d come onto the porch. “How are things?” he called out.

“Busy,” she called back.

Julie appeared behind her. Johnny saw the poke she gave Meliana, and the action eased his foul mood. “You might as well come in, Zack, and save Mel the trouble of persuading you.”

“Hey, I don’t mind being persuaded. Who’s the blonde?”

“Julie Denton. City cop. Not married.”

“My mother’ll be pleased to hear it.” Zack whipped down the towel he’d draped over one grimy shoulder and tossed it into the cruiser. “I figured this day had to improve at some point.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Johnny agreed. Then groaned as the house, indeed the entire lakefront yard, went black.



THE POWER FAILURE LASTED fifteen minutes. Meliana and Charlie sat cross-legged on the sofa and by candlelight watched the other three argue about the source of the problem.

Johnny assumed it was the breaker box, the obvious choice. Zack figured the outage might involve the whole lakefront area, and Julie mentioned the word sabotage.

Fortunately, a minute after that word left Julie’s mouth, the lights popped on. The music Meliana had been playing resumed and the ceiling fan began to grind.

“You like blackouts, don’t you?” Charlie asked while the mini-hubbub continued around them. “I bet you’re a fan of old horror movies.”

“I like suspense,” Meliana agreed. “Psychological terror as opposed to blood and gore.”

“Yeah, she sees guts being spilled every day,” Johnny put in from the kitchen.

“He’d have passed out if we hadn’t tranquilized him when he was shot.” Meliana spoke just loud enough for Johnny to hear.

“That’s right, you operated on him, didn’t you?” Charlie shed his jacket as the heater kicked in again.

Meliana’s eyes sparkled. “I was a resident, overworked and exhausted. It was 2:00 a.m. We heard a cop—sorry, FBI agent—had been shot. No one knew how bad it was. I’d just finished stitching up a knife wound, so I was it.”

“I wouldn’t have passed out.” Johnny handed Charlie and Zack a beer, Julie a hard lemonade and Meliana the soft one she’d requested. Someone had to drive the others home—apparently.

“He threatened to faint like a girl.” Meliana moved her glass in a triangle between Zack, Julie and Charlie. “Have you all met?”

Julie hit the sexy button, smiled and shook her hair. “Zack and I introduced ourselves.”

“And I met Zack last year,” Charlie said. “I followed your neighbor up here one day after Christmas. Read him the riot act over doling out samples of his company’s pills to anyone who stuck out his or her hand.”

“Tim Carrick gives sample medications to patients?” Meliana swirled her lemonade while she digested that. “I should be surprised, but I’m not. I imagine he figures if they like what he’s offering, they’ll ask their doctors to prescribe it. Or is he looking to make private deals?”

“He’s not that stupid,” Zack said. “He doesn’t give out samples as such. According to Tim, some thief lifted a bunch of boxes and other containers from his case one time when he was in Chicago.”

“A generous thief, who distributed the packets to anyone he felt needed them.” Charlie shook his head. “Carrick did the deed anonymously, knowing his company’s name was on the label, but my guess is the order to do it came from a higher source within said company. Either that or he’s an out-and-out dealer.”

“Did you mention any of this to the chief of staff?” Meliana asked.

Charlie chuckled. “Every time I see him, although lately I’ve noticed he tends to dart down side corridors whenever our paths threaten to converge.”

Zack perched on the arm of Julie’s chair. “What got Charlie hot was that some poor woman wound up taking an unprescribed handful of antidepressants.”

“They were far stronger than anything she needed.” Charlie made circles in front of his headband. “She was in la-la land for three days. Her husband thought I’d set the dosage, so he called me. It took ninety minutes of questioning for me to figure out that she got the pills from the source—that being good old Tim. I tracked Carrick to his home, couldn’t find him, went to the sheriff’s office.” Charlie chuckled. “The sheriff was having ants exterminated from the jail cells, so he told Zack to deal with it.”

“Sounds like Sheriff Frank. He likes to delegate,” Meliana added in a stage whisper to Julie.

“He’s retiring next year.” Zack arched a brow in Julie’s direction. “If you’re looking to get out of the rat race, Blue Lake’s going to need a new sheriff, and neither Phil nor I are in the running.”

Meliana rested her head on the sofa cushions. “Why not?”

“Because Phil’s too lazy, and I want out.”





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