“Understood. I’ll speak to the chief.” Emily was gliding to a stop at the curb in front of her house. There was yellow crime scene tape strung across her porch and side yard.

  She shivered. “It feels ominous seeing all that tape.”

  “Yeah, it is off-putting. Is it okay for me to take my car since it’s parked on the outside?”

  “Sure. Have at it. Just drive carefully, okay?”

  “Always.” Pausing on the sidewalk, Noah waved with his good arm. “You be careful, too.”

  Emily didn’t break stride but she did call back, “Always.”

  * * *

  She had her house key ready to insert in the lock, reached out—and saw that the door was ajar.

  One second she was weary, the next on full alert. Remaining on the porch, she drew her sidearm and held it ready while phoning 911 and reporting a possible break-in.

  “That’s right. I normally lock up, but there’s been a lot of distraction here. Stand by while I check the scene.”

  Swiveling through the open door, she gripped her pistol in a shooter’s stance to scan the room. Nothing looked out of place. The kitchen was open to view from there and empty, so she headed for the hallway next. Bedroom doors were closed. She gave the first one a push and listened as it hit the rubber stopper on the wall, then gave the room a quick scan. Nothing. No one.

  Too soon to relax, Emily told herself. She checked the small bathroom. Unoccupied. One more room to go.

  The old house always creaked and groaned, especially during weather changes, and this day was no different. The trick was to separate normal sounds from strange ones. Was that a dull thud? Were there going to be more sounds in a cadence, like footsteps? What about that squeak the windows made when they were raised or lowered?

  Emily’s hand closed on the knob as she realized something vital. Living alone, she never closed her bedroom door, and it was presently shut tight.

  Taking a firm grip she tried to enter. The door didn’t budge. Someone must have locked it!

  Intent on drawing any prowler’s attention to the interior, she made a fist, banged on the door and shouted, “Open up! Police!” then spun on her heel and raced to the kitchen door because it was closest.

  Bursting into the yard, she followed the same path she’d used when pursuing the man who had knifed Noah and, again, hesitated before swinging around the blind corner.

  A dark shape whizzed past her in a blur.

  “Halt!”

  The figure half turned and lashed out. A blade flashed in the sunlight. Emily fell back, her gun raised. There was only a millisecond in which to decide whether or not to fire before the fleeing prowler kicked out and connected with one of her knees, dropping her in her tracks before disappearing over the neighbor’s board fence.

  Angry, frustrated and more than a little embarrassed, Emily stayed down, pressed her back to the wall so no one could get behind her, and started to call for more backup. Her phone was in her hand when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

  She whipped the gun into firing position. Aimed. And recognized Noah.

  He raised his hands, even the one hindered by the sling. “Don’t shoot!”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I looked in my mirror and saw you stop at your front door and pull your gun, so I backed up to see what was wrong. What happened this time?”

  “I surprised a prowler.”

  “Which way did he go?”

  “Never mind. You chased one perp for me, and look what it got you. Stay right here where I can see you while I report and get some backup.”

  Noah held out a hand of assistance.

  Emily considered not taking it but gave in. Her aching knee was probably going to swell, so the sooner she got herself up off the ground and iced it, the better.

  “You’re limping,” he remarked with a scowl.

  “Twisted my knee,” she alibied. Making sure her gear was in place and holstering the pistol, she finished phoning her station, explained what had happened since her initial standby call, and let Noah help her up the stairs into the kitchen.

  “Ice would be good,” Emily said, partly because she wanted it and partly to give him something useful to do.

  He wrapped some cubes in a kitchen towel, handed the bundle to her and stepped back. “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Go watch for the incoming units and be sure to look innocent when you let them in so they don’t cuff you.”

  “Very funny. They should be used to me by now. I’ve turned up on nearly everything you’ve been involved in for the last twenty-four.”

  Feeling throbbing pain and not wanting to show it, she shooed him off. “Let me process all this, will you? I know I’m going to be kidded something awful when my unit finds out.”

  “Why didn’t you shoot?” Noah asked.

  Suspecting that part of her hesitation stemmed from his influence, Emily just shrugged. “Happened too fast. She was on me before I had a chance to react.”

  Noah’s brow knit. “She?”

  That slip of the tongue had surprised Emily, too. “I did say she, didn’t I? I don’t know why. Maybe because the person who ran into me was small, wiry and very quick.”

  “Men can be like that, too.”

  Thinking, she pressed her lips together. “I know. There must have been something about the prowler that made me imagine a gender. The face was covered.” Closing her eyes, she pictured the event, beginning with the rush by the corner and the swish of the knife cutting the air right in front of her.

  Emily’s eyes popped open, and she stared into the distance, not focusing on reality but on memory. The hand. It was the hand. Those slim fingers. That pale skin.

  “The hand holding the knife looked female,” she told Noah, getting excited. “That’s what I recognized.”

  “No chance you’re mistaken?”

  She snorted a chuckle. “There is always a chance of that, as you like to remind me, but the more I think about it, the more positive I am.”

  “Okay.” Acting uneasy, he gestured toward the front of the house. “I’ll just go watch for backup, shall I?”

  “Please.”

  Readjusting the makeshift ice pack over her knee, Emily heard the approach of her fellow officers and listened to Noah telling them what had happened and where she was. It didn’t please her to see Calvin Dodge come running into the kitchen ahead of everyone else.

  “Simmer down, Cal. The perp is gone.” Emily smiled to try to calm him.

  “We can’t get one of the inside doors open,” he blurted. “Want us to break it down?”

  “No.” She pointed to a peg next to the back door. “The master key is up there on a hook. The old-fashioned-looking one. That’s it.”

  He was gone for barely half a minute when Noah appeared. “I think you should come with me,” he said soberly.

  “Now?”

  “Now, if you think it’s okay to walk.” He was eyeing the ice pack. “It’s important.”

  “Okay.” Emily levered herself to her feet and rested a hand on his arm for support.

  They worked their way through the cops bunched at her bedroom door and stopped. If she had been alone, she might have gasped when she recognized an object from her very own kitchen.

  The black handle of a large carving knife was protruding from the center of her pillow. Right where she laid her head every night.

  EIGHT

  Once Emily’s house had been processed for fingerprints and she was let back in, she quickly changed to a clean uniform. Noah figured she probably had an ulterior motive for accepting his offer to drive her to the hospital, but he didn’t care as long as she went along with his advice and had her knee checked while they were there.

  The local medical facility was larger than Paradise warranted because it served several adjoining counties as well. They entered via the emergency room doors.

  Noah took one whiff and wished he could hold his breath indefinitely. The air inside the hospital had a distinctive bite to it, tangy with disinfectant and carrying an undercurrent of illness and despair. A couple of empty gurneys were parked along one wall, and there was muted conversation coming from a cubicle halfway to the indoor access to the main hospital. Lack of excitement or rapid action suggested that his injured client wasn’t still there.

  Hoping she hadn’t already passed away, Noah asked at a nurse’s station while Emily spoke with a physician’s assistant about her knee.

  “Mrs. Bright is in surgery,” a nurse in green scrubs told him.

  “I know she lost a lot of blood. What’s the prognosis?”

  “Are you a relative?”

  He knew better than to claim he was, so he merely said, “I’m her attorney.”

  “Then I suggest you wait on the surgical floor.”

  “Thanks. Do you know if she’s being guarded?”

  The nurse started to shrug, then turned as the ambulance bay doors swung open to admit more emergency medics and a new patient. “Sorry. Gotta go. Third floor.”

  “Gotcha.” With a sigh, Noah sought out Emily and found her emerging from one of the exam cubicles. “Laura’s still in surgery but alive, so that’s good news. What about your knee?”

  “Ice and elevate it. I told you I didn’t need to come here.”

  “Yeah, well... We can wait for Laura on three.” He gestured toward a bank of elevators. “Shall we?”

  “What did they tell you?”

  “Nothing. You’ll have better results because you’re in uniform. I’m hoping we can talk to a doctor if we’re in the right place when one comes by. It may be a while before she’s out of the recovery room.”

  “You really did get the sense she’s expected to survive?”

  “I did.”

  Together they took an elevator. A uniformed Paradise police officer was waiting in the hallway when they got off. Noah greeted the man amiably and offered his hand while Emily merely nodded because she knew him.

  “Steve Anderson,” the young officer said to Noah before focusing on Emily. “What can you tell me about this case, Zwalt? All they said was to stick with Ms. Bright if she made it.”

  “We don’t know a lot,” Emily answered. “Witnesses said her husband was involved, but he’s in the wind. Until he’s picked up, it’s a good idea to keep watch on her room.” She paused. “Were you up here when they wheeled her to surgery?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did she say anything? Anything at all?”

  The younger cop fidgeted. “She was pretty out of it.”

  Noah lowered his voice to affect a calm he wasn’t feeling. “Tell us. Please. All we know is what was said on the original 911 call. Laura and her husband had been arguing, and it got physical.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” Anderson said. “Is the husband’s name Jim?”

  “Yes.” Noah let his breath out in a noisy whoosh when the young cop continued. “She said somebody else knifed her. It wasn’t Jim.”

  “You’re positive?”

  “Yes. She kept shaking her head when she spotted me and lifted the oxygen mask. She kept saying, ‘No. Jimmy.’”

  Emily sighed in disappointment. “And you think that meant he didn’t hurt her? Sounds more like a repeat of what she must have said when he was attacking.”

  “That’s what I thought at first, so I asked if he was the one who had hurt her.”

  “She actually said he wasn’t?”

  “Well, they pushed me away and put the mask back over her face, but it was clear plastic and she mouthed, No.”

  “Not enough,” Emily said flatly. “Maybe Mr. Bright can shed more light on the situation once we have him in custody.”

  Noah interrupted. “Assuming he comes quietly. I’d hate to see him hurt, or worse, if he resists arrest.”

  “There are maybe a few incidents where things got out of hand, but by and large, people like me are just trying to keep the peace,” Emily said. “When I took the oath to protect and serve the public, I meant it.”

  Noah held up a hand, palm toward both of the police officers. “I know that. I also know that fear or anger can make people do things they would never even consider under different circumstances. Take Jim Bright, for instance. When he took off, maybe he was just trying to distance himself from Laura to calm down, not running away because he’d harmed her. Have you thought of that?”

  “You never give up, do you?” Body braced, knee throbbing, Emily faced him boldly.

  “No more than you do,” Noah replied. “I suggest we table this discussion until we’ve had a chance to interview Laura.”

  “She may still try to protect Jim by denying he harmed her. That kind of wrong thinking occurs all the time.”

  “That’s where you and I come in,” Noah said flatly. “It’s up to us to separate the innocent from the guilty.”

  Emily set her jaw. “Wrong. It’s up to a judge and jury to do that. Our job is to provide the tools they need to bring justice.”

  “Only if we can do it without prejudice,” Noah argued. “That’s the real key.”

  “Do you mean to say you’re ready to forgive whoever is killing women you’ve come in contact with? What about the victims? Their grieving families?”

  Instead of the capitulation Emily apparently expected, Noah said, “I like to think I could,” endeavoring to leave her as convicted as she’d obviously intended him to be.

  Perhaps the day would never come when she’d be able to forgive anybody for stealing Jake from her, but it was Noah’s hope and prayer that she’d find enough peace to carry her through. To lift her up and comfort her when she relived that pain of loss, as she appeared to be doing right now.

  When her glance met his, it created a bond that touched him so deeply he wasn’t sure what to do. Part of him insisted he step back and give her more space while another part wanted to enfold her in a tender embrace.

  Emily put a hand to her temple and swayed slightly. That did it. Noah reached out. “Are you feeling that hit in the head you got at the park?”

  “No, I...”

  She didn’t resist when he slipped his good arm around her shoulders. The next thing he knew she was leaning into him, resting her cheek against his chest, and he could feel a sympathetic cadence of heartbeats.

  “Is it your knee? Too much pain?”

  “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

  “What you need is some sleep and a decent meal,” Noah said. “As soon as we find out when to expect Laura to be able to talk, I’m taking you down to the cafeteria.”

  Officer Anderson interrupted. “They told me at least two hours and that was—” he checked his watch “—less than an hour ago. You’ve got plenty of time. I’ll keep watch up here.”

  Stepping aside to speak to the young officer, Noah reminded him, “Whoever did this, whether it was the spouse or not, is still at large. Stay alert. This is already a big mess, and I’d hate to see you added to the casualties.”

  Although neither officer looked pleased to hear his advice, neither of them countered it. That’s because I’m right, Noah thought. Not only were young blonde women falling victim to a killer, something else was going on involving Emily and perhaps even himself. Logically, since the deceased women had ties to him, however tenuous, it might mean that he was the link, although why that should affect Emily, a brunette, didn’t compute.

  Neither did Buddy’s apparent attempt to frame him for one of the murders. That was assuming, of course, that the plea for help had actually come from that client. Destroying your pro bono attorney made no sense. So what were they missing? And why was some strange woman threatening Emily?

  Recalling the shots at the park when he’d found the Roskov body, Noah became more and more certain that he hadn’t been in the crosshairs. Emily had.

  And by the looks of her bed pillow after this last incident, she still was.

  * * *

  “Feeling better?” Noah asked as they sipped iced tea at the end of their cafeteria meal.

  Emily nodded. “I wasn’t that hungry.”

  He chuckled. “If this was an example of how you eat when you’re not hungry, I’d hate to see you when you’re starving.”

  “Okay, okay. So I did need food. You win. This time. Just don’t make it a habit.”

  “Has anybody ever told you you’re too competitive?” Noah asked.

  “A few times.” Like hundreds, she added to herself. She jerked and almost spilled her iced tea when her radio sounded off. “Zwalt, are you still at the hospital?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Copy. You’re wanted in the recovery room. The victim is conscious.”

  Noah was on his feet almost as quickly as she was, accompanied her to the elevator and stayed close. An excited Officer Anderson was waiting for them when they got off.

  “They’re about to move her to ICU, but they said you could talk to her,” he blurted. “The chief wants you to do it instead of me.”

  “I’m going in too,” Noah said.

  Emily raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t forbid it. Having someone with her who the woman knew might prove advantageous, and she figured she could always banish him if he got too pushy.

  Dry erase boards mounted on the wall above narrow beds identified each occupant at a glance. Several nurses were tending to machinery around a different recovering patient, leaving Laura Bright temporarily alone except for a woman in a long white coat at her bedside.

  Emily not only halted, she put out an arm to stop Noah. The pristine white physician’s coat fit into the scenario fine, but the person standing next to Laura was also wearing ragged jeans and dirty athletic shoes.

  “Who are you, and what are you doing?” Emily demanded, keeping her voice low yet firm.