“Will do.”

Lee returned to her station, did the cleanup by rote, then sat in her chair and took a deep breath.

The shock of seeing Dave walk toward her station today could have registered as a major quake on the Richter scale. The day he’d told her he was never coming back, he’d meant it. Not once in all these years had he sought her out.

She’d sought him out, though—on the sly. Watched him from afar. Followed him. Knew his habits. It paid to be thoroughly briefed on your adversaries. To do your best to understand those who betrayed you.

And now Dave was worried. Up to his neck in a very messy business with criminal repercussions.

The question was, had he told anyone else about his dilemma?

Not Kimberly, certainly. And unless his pattern had changed, he didn’t have any close friends. Only clients. His wife had always been the center of his world.

Had he perhaps sought guidance from his pastor?

She studied her reflection as she pondered that question.

No. That wasn’t his style—and it would be too dangerous.

But if law enforcement had any suspicions about a death, they’d be looking into it. Had Dave found out that the death of one of the people he’d help bilk was under investigation? Was that what had prompted his visit?

Hmm.

It would be helpful to know if the cops had any concerns about Mavis or Fred.

She crossed her legs and jiggled her foot. Russ Franklin was one of her customers, and he was about due for a cut. And the sheriff in the next county came in on a regular basis. Both of them loved talking about their work, and while funeral homes and autopsies and crime scenes weren’t of much interest to her in general, it wouldn’t hurt to see if she could ferret out a few nuggets about investigations that involved Mavis or Fred.

Because forewarned was forearmed—not that she intended to share anything she discovered with Dave.

Oh no.

He deserved whatever he got.

Making him pay for his betrayal in every way she could think of without calling attention to herself or exposing her own secrets was her right.

It was called sweet revenge.

8

SO WHAT’S UP BETWEEN YOU AND BECKY?” Kathleen flipped the dish towel over her shoulder and skewered Nate with a don’t-try-to-snow-me stare.

Smothering a groan, he stowed the salt and pepper shakers, watching through the window as his sister-in-law’s fiancé drove away from the farm in a cloud of dust.

Too bad he couldn’t conjure up an excuse to escape too—like Luke’s dubious explanation about promising to help a neighbor mend a fence on this Sunday evening.

But his predicament was his own fault. He should have read the clues, realized there was an ulterior motive to Kathleen’s last-minute invitation after breakfast this morning at the Spotted Hen. His sister-in-law planned every social occasion in advance, and she always included Becky if he was involved. Her flimsy excuse about having farm business to discuss wouldn’t have precluded Becky from joining them.