Harlan’s phone pinged, sharp in the quiet, and he glanced down at the screen. “We have a visitor,” he said.
Laney’s heart jumped right back into overdrive, not with anger this time but with concern. She was already reaching for her sidearm, and Harlan mirrored her, his gun in hand. They stepped into the hall, her voice carrying just enough to reach her mother without spooking Evie.
“Keep Evie in the bathroom for a while, Mom,” she called out.
She and Harlan moved together down the stairs, boots thudding lightly against the wood. Halfway down, Harlan’s phone pinged again. He checked the screen and angled it toward her.
It was footage from the security feed, and it showed a vehicle approaching. A white Honda that she instantly recognized.
Laney’s pulse eased a fraction. “That car belongs to my neighbor, Sherry Dalton,” she said, lowering her weapon but not holstering it just yet. “She used to be a cop. And she was David’s partner. She’s probably heard about the bomb and maybe the lab results.”
Laney moved with Harlan to the front door, her holster settling back against her hip as she slid her gun into it. Beside her, Harlan kept his weapon low at his side, his eyes scanning the porch and yard through the window.
“I don’t want to risk anyone sneaking in directly behind your neighbor,” he muttered.
The words sent a prickle of alarm down her spine. Yes. She could see Billy doing something exactly like that. He could be watching the house, and with the sensors already tripped, he might see this as his chance to make a move. A move for what exactly she didn’t know, but she didn’t want to take any risks with Evie in the house.
She tightened her grip on the doorknob and eased it open. Cool late-October air drifted in, smelling faintly of dry leaves and woodsmoke. Only a week from Halloween, and Sherry Dalton stood on the porch with a small, round pumpkin cradled in her arms.
Like Laney, Harlan, and David, Sherry was in her late thirties. She had the lean, wiry build of someone who stayed active, with sharp blue eyes that missed little and a jaw that hinted at stubbornness. Her sandy hair was pulled back in ano-nonsense ponytail, but the fine lines at the corners of her eyes spoke of long shifts, hard calls, and the kind of wear that lingered even after she’d resigned as a full time cop four years ago, not long after David’s death. Sherry was still a reserve deputy though and was called in during emergencies and such.
“Picked the pumpkin from my garden,” Sherry greeted, not exactly smiling. In fact, she was chewing on her bottom lip. “For Evie, in case she wants to make a jack-o-lantern.”
“Thanks,” Laney replied, taking the pumpkin from her. She set it just inside the door, her free hand resting lightly on it for a moment before she stepped back.
She motioned for Sherry to come in, but the woman stayed put. Her gaze swept over the yard and the quiet stretch of road beyond. Nothing moved out there, yet Sherry’s quick, tight movements carried a nervous edge. Laney caught it and felt her own unease stir.
Laney dropped back another step, once again a silent offer for Sherry to come up. This time, the woman did, and Laney motioned toward the living room. But Sherry stayed planted in the foyer.
“I won’t stay long,” Sherry said, her voice low. Her gaze flicked to Harlan. “You might not remember me.”
“I do,” Harlan said without hesitation. “You were David’s partner. We met at a barbecue here at the ranch.”
Sherry gave a small nod but didn’t relax. She shifted her weight, one hand slipping into the pocket of her jeans. When it came back out, she was holding a folded note sealed inside a plastic zipper bag.
“I found this under my windshield wiper when I left the grocery store about a half hour ago,” she said.
Laney took it, and Harlan leaned close so they could read it together. The message was scrawled in blocky black ink, and they could read it through the plastic.
Ask too many questions and you’ll join David.
Sherry’s mouth tightened. “I’ve been asking questions since I heard about the bomb left in the culvert this morning. I’m telling you, Curtis Brannigan is behind it. He made similar threats back when David and I were investigating his blasting operation.”
Laney frowned. She remembered the investigation into Brannigan well enough, but she couldn’t recall any direct threats like that. Her gaze slid to Harlan. His expression was unreadable, his jaw set and eyes giving nothing away.
Was that because he didn’t believe Brannigan was involved? Or maybe he was thinking the same thing she was—that Billy might have left this note. Or that someone was using it to try to set Brannigan or Billy up.
Sherry tucked the note back into her jacket pocket. “I’ll take this to the sheriff,” she said, her voice firm, “but I wanted you to see it first.” Her gaze softened just a fraction. “Be careful, Laney.”
Then her eyes shifted to Harlan, lingering on him for a moment. Something in her expression said she’d just put two and two together, that his presence here was not a coincidence.
“Guess you’re already taking precautions,” Sherry added under her breath.
Laney didn’t answer, and neither did Harlan.
Sherry gave a short nod. “Goodnight. Make sure Evie gets the pumpkin.” She stepped out onto the porch, moving quickly to her car.
Laney closed the door and slid the deadbolt into place. Harlan locked the knob, then checked the window beside it before following her back into the house.
