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why. He hoped it had no ties whatsoever to her father’s murder and the two latest killings, but no way in hell was he taking a chance. Not when Carly’s life might depend on it.

* * *

Carly called Micha’s police friend as soon as she got inside. She knew if she waited until she started her shift, she probably wouldn’t have a chance.

The officer picked up on the second ring. “Charlie Crenshaw.”

As soon as she identified herself, his casual tone became more professional. When she told him she’d had the feeling someone had been watching her for the last six weeks, he asked her several pointed questions.

“No, I haven’t actually seen anyone. No, no one has sent me weird emails or written messages. No vandalism or anything like that.” She thought of last night, calling 911 because of the strange noises she’d heard, but figured that would already be on record. And after all, the sound had turned out to be a stray dog.

Listening to herself, even she began to have doubts.

To his credit, when she’d started to feel like she might have been imagining the feeling of being watched, Officer Crenshaw promised to file a report.

“What does that mean?” she asked. “Where do we go from here?”

“We’ll start by having officers patrol your street more often,” he replied. “More frequent drive-bys might help.”

“Thank you.” Relieved that he hadn’t said she’d be put under constant surveillance, she ended the call. Since she wasn’t even positive about being watched, she would have been extremely uncomfortable losing that much privacy. Hearing about the two new murders gave her pause, though. She wondered who would be notifying her and when. Most likely, her eldest brother, Heath, would be tasked with that chore. As president of Colton Connections, he’d become unofficial head of the family with the two eldest Coltons’ deaths.

Expecting his call, she debated whether or not to give him the news about Micha over the phone. It might be easier to do that in person.

Instead of a call, Heath sent her a text. Sunday, cookout in Oak Park at one. Can you make it?

Since she was always off Sundays unless she switched shifts with someone, she texted back in the affirmative. Apparently, Heath wanted to give his news in person, as well.

Things were pretty quiet in the NICU, relatively speaking. Carly loved working with infants and had a soft spot for the vulnerable preemies. She was grateful for days like this, when she could take care of her charges without rushing from one incident to another. She even had time to chat with a few of the parents, many of whom she’d gotten to know well.

When her lunchtime arrived, she smiled at the nurse who’d come to relieve her so she could eat. They all knew better than to comment on the calm day—to do so practically guaranteed it would end.

She headed down to the cafeteria, planning to grab a salad and her personal weakness, a diet ginger ale. The cafeteria always made sure to keep some in stock for her. As she rounded the corner, she stopped short, stunned at the sight of Micha sitting on a bench just outside the cafeteria entrance.

After the first initial rush of seeing him, she frowned. “Now I’m really beginning to feel like you’re stalking me,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

He stood. “I thought you might want to have lunch.” He held up a bag. Fontano’s Subs. Her favorite.

“You remembered.” Touched, despite herself, she let her gaze search his face.

“Yep. Homemade meatball with red sauce.” He grinned. “And corned beef for me.”

For just an instant, the force of his smile took her back. Micha had used to meet her for lunch all the time when they’d first gotten engaged. Sometimes he’d bring her a treat, sometimes they’d eat cafeteria food. What had been important was spending the time together. She’d missed their lunches a lot once he’d gone back to active duty.

Now, though, two years had passed. She’d grown used to eating her lunch alone. She wasn’t sure her heart could withstand taking a giant step back into the past.

Noticing her hesitation, his warm smile dimmed. “I can go,” he said. “If you want me to.”

Eyeing the paper sack, she relented. “I’m sorry. You can stay. You just caught me off guard. Let me go get us a couple of drinks and we’ll grab a table.”

“In the courtyard?” He nodded toward the outside eating area. With the warm weather, a lot of people took advantage of the chance to get out.

She shrugged. “Sure, if you can find a table. If not, inside’s fine.”

Inside, she grabbed her diet ginger ale and a cola for him. After paying, she made her way outside, spotting Micha at a two-seat table under a small umbrella.

“Wow,” she commented, handing him his drink and taking a seat. “You really lucked out.”

Smiling again, he opened the paper bag. She inhaled deeply, her mouth beginning to water at the wonderful scents that escaped. Around them, she saw a couple of her coworkers giving her curious looks, but she ignored them.

As soon as he handed her the meatball sub, she unwrapped it and took a huge bite. The flavor had her humming low in her throat with pleasure. She looked up to find him staring at her, his warm gaze making her face heat.

“I haven’t had one of these in a long time,” she said, going for a second bite. “So good.” She rolled her eyes.

Laughing, he unwrapped his own sub. “I love your gusto,” he murmured, before digging into his corned beef.

Love. She pretended not to notice his choice of words. “I talked to Officer Crenshaw,” she told him. “He’s promised to make sure there are extra patrols on my street.”

He nodded. “Any word from your family? I’m assuming by now someone will have notified them about the new set of murders.”

“Heath has called a family meeting on Sunday,” she replied. “I’m guessing he wants to let us know in person.”

“Are

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