“Then we’ve got the same imagination.” He cleared enough ivy to peer through the gate. “Okay, that’s weird. We have a fenced yard of nothing.”

He took hold of the gate and yanked. The ivy fell away easily. Too easily.

“Someone’s opened this for us,” he said.

“Yep.” I took the gun from my pocket. “I think we’ve found our trap.”

“Then it’s a very strange one.” He threw open the gate. “Because if someone’s hiding, I don’t know where.”

It really was a “yard of nothing”—unless you counted weeds. The wrought-iron fence encircled a patch about two hundred feet square. And there was nothing inside except grass and weeds.

Before he let the gate swing shut behind us, Ricky examined the fence. He knocked his boot into a space between the slats and heaved himself up.

“Yep,” I said. “Even if the gate mysteriously locks behind us, it’s a six-foot, climbable fence. At worst, you could boost me up and over.”

“Weird.”

“Uh-huh. So maybe not a trap?”

He grunted, meaning he wasn’t going to be so quick to dismiss the possibility. “We’ll have a look around, in case there’s something we’re supposed to see here, but don’t take a step without clearing it first.”

“In case we walk into a literal trap.”

He nodded. We each moved forward, testing the way as we went. I got about three paces before my sneaker nudged something unyielding. I started to bend.

“Hold up.” Ricky came over and prodded it with his boot. “Go stand by the gate.”

“Um, so if it blows up, you’ll be the one who loses fingers? Very chivalrous, but I found it. You go stand by the gate.”

He rubbed his mouth. “Sorry. This place . . . I didn’t like it the last time and it’s worse now. There’s something that makes me want to sling you over my shoulder and carry you out, and it’s bad enough that I’d almost be tempted if I didn’t know you’d kick the hell out of me.”

I moved closer and rubbed between his shoulders. The tension there was rock-hard. His face was just as tight, pupils constricted despite the darkness.

“What do you want to do?” I asked.

“Honestly? Leave.”

“If you feel strongly about that—”

“Nah. I’m not the one with psychic powers. I’m just . . .” Another look around. “Uneasy.”

“Check whatever I found, then. I’ll stand by the gate.”

A light kiss, and some of that tension fell from his face. “Thank you. Next time, the dangerous part is yours. I promise.”

“You’re so sweet.”

I backed up to the gate. Ricky knelt and prodded whatever was buried. His brows pinched. He grabbed a handful of undergrowth and ripped it off. Then he kept going, clearing it and sweeping away the dirt.