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“Can you give me a look at the inside?”

“Sure.” She told herself her case of nerves was unjustified and unlocked the back door. The heat of the day had settled into the house, leaving it sweltering. As she reached for the latch of the window, she said, “I have a few repairs that will be made before anyone moves in. I plan to paint, clean the carpets, wax the floors and—”

She heard him walk in behind her, close the door and turn the lock. “Don’t bother with the window.” His voice was low, the command sharp.

She froze. “But it’s beastly in here, and there’s a good cross breeze—” Turning, she found him leaning against the door, blocking her way out, and his expression had turned from friendly to hard and calculating.

“I have a confession to make,” he said.

But she already understood as she mentally scraped off his beard and removed his hat. She swallowed back her fear as she recognized him. Her blood turned to ice.

“I’m not Ben Francis.”

“I know.”

His eyes glinted with a malevolent light. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“We didn’t have to,” she said, fighting a feeling damned close to terror climbing up her spine. “I know who you are, Ray Dean. I just don’t understand what you want from me.”

* * *

Luke yanked a clean pair of jeans on to his wet body. His muscles ached, and his mind thundered with the accusations that Katie had thrown his way. She was right. Though he hadn’t set out to use her, he hadn’t been completely honest about his intentions.

“Damn.” He snapped his jeans closed and silently cursed himself to as many levels of hell as there were, then added a few more for good measure.

If only Ralph had held his patience in check; if only he’d let Luke talk to Katie himself, explain what he’d been doing, try to let her understand his position. “And what good would that have done?” he wondered aloud. Angry at the world in general and specifically at himself, he jerked a towel from the rack and wiped away the condensation that fogged the mirror.

His reflection glowered back at him through the tiny droplets, and he felt as if he were about to explode. He didn’t bother combing his hair, just raked his fingers through the wet strands. Muttering under his breath about hardheaded women and the stupid men involved with them, he threw on a pair of old sneakers and a T-shirt that had seen better days, then buckled the worn leather strap of his watch.

He was outside and down the stairs before the door slammed shut behind him. Crossing the yard in swift, ground-eating strides that led him straight to the back door, he ignored the low rumble of a growl old Blue gave him.

Banging loudly with his fist, he waited until Katie’s kid, eyeing him with unmasked suspicion, stood on the other side of the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Your mom here?” He knew better. The Jeep was still missing in action, but he thought he’d start at the beginning with Josh.

“Naw.”

A wealth of information, this kid. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

Josh’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “Yeah.”

Luke’s patience was wearing thin. “And when is that?”

“Later.” He gave a lift of one shoulder. “She said about an hour.”

Luke calculated that she’d already been gone twenty minutes or so. He was going to ask Josh where she’d gone even if it wasn’t any of his business, but at that moment Tiffany’s car pulled into the drive. She was out of the car in a second. Her son, Stephen, who’d been in the passenger seat, was right behind her.

“Is Katie here?” Tiffany asked, climbing the steps.

“At the other house.”

Bingo.

Josh opened the door for his aunt and cousin. “Someone’s looking at it.”

“Good. I need to talk to her, so Stephen and I’ll wait if that’s okay.”

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