Page 5 of Three Steps Behind

“Andi, why don’t you get Harper some cider to warm her up. It’s freezing out there,” Deck said, already looking out for her. Protecting was what he did best, and why she was here, risking the questions that would come. He would keep her safe. She trusted that with all her might, despite how her traitorous body might protest otherwise.

Riley rounded the corner, followed by Greyson—Deckard’s most trusted friend and a fellow PI in their firm. He’d been the one to sell the practice to Deck, though she didn’t know why. Riley stopped short as her gaze shifted to Harp’s swollen eye. Grey held behind Riley, resting his hands on her shoulders.

Hmm. An unusual personal touch from Grey. He and Riley were close but not that level of close . . . unless she’d missed something.

Riley schooled her features from concern to softness. “Harper, I’m so glad to see you.”

Of course Riley would read the room and react accordingly.

“Let’s get you something warm to drink,” she repeated Deck’s suggestion. “Cider or cocoa?”

Her hollow stomach flipped. Comfort from food and drink, other than water, had alluded her—pounds dropping off—but she craved warmth. “Cocoa, please.”

“You got it.” Riley smiled. “Why don’t you come into the kitchen? I’ve got a whole cocoa bar set up, and we can make it the way you like it.”

Of course Riley did. She was the Christmas elf, according to her brothers. All things merry and festive, they’d said.

“I’m so glad you came,” Deck said, keeping a comfortable distance between them. All the MacLeods, Grey, and Andi kindly did as well.

She placed her order for dark chocolate and whipped cream from Riley’s plethora of offerings.

“Thanks,” she said when Riley handed her the red mug dotted with white snowflakes. She cupped it, hoping it would infuse some heat into her bones.

Deckard’s gaze flashed to the duffel bag she’d set off to the side as they’d entered the kitchen. “I hope you plan on staying awhile.”

She would thank God for Deck’s kindness, but God had abandoned her on that scrubbed hill of death.

Two

NEEDING SOME AIR, Harper excused herself from the Christmas movie marathon the following night.

“Where you headed?” Deck asked, stepping out of the living room after her.

She grabbed her coat off the white—had to be Pottery Barn—hall tree. “At the Christmas Eve service today, Mrs. Watkins mentioned that Kreger’s is open tonight. According to her, going to Kreger’s on Christmas Eve is tradition.” But the truth was she needed air, needed the cold to slap away the fear churning inside of her.

“Let me guess.” He smiled. “Peppermint milkshake?”

He remembered. There was that hint of warmth raking through her again. “Yep.”

“Give me a sec and I’ll go with you.”

Just what she’d hoped he’d say.

“Let me just tell the gang. We may have takeout orders.” He chuckled.

“I’m going to grab my gloves.” She’d started down the hallway to the guest bedroom when the doorbell rang. It wasn’t a fearful sound usually, but her muscles tensed.

“I wonder who it is this time?” Deck asked.

“I’ll get it,” Riley called, but Deck’s footsteps echoed across the foyer over the movie soundtrack.

Curiosity and trepidation shifted through her. Who was there?

The door creaked.

“Dad?” Disbelief radiated in Deckard’s holler.

“No time for chitchat,” the man said. “Your sister is in grave danger.”