“But they started coming before the letter was published.. . .” Her voice faded away and she wondered how long this man had been watching her, following her. Her skin crawled at the thought of what he might have seen. “You . . . were watching me?” She thought she might be sick.

“I had to know what was going on.”

So Luke had been right. She’d dismissed his concerns as some kind of overprotective paranoia, but his sense of dread had been justified. “Look, if you want me to help you . . .” She let her voice drop off. “Is that it? You want me to do something?”

“I want you to level with me. I think you know where Isaac Wells is.”

“I don’t.” She shook her head. “I swear. The only contact I’ve had with him is the one letter.”

“My source said he was returning to town. Was gonna turn himself in, but first he would contact you.”

“Why?”

“Good question. I thought it was so that he could give you some more B.S. and lies that you’d publish in the paper.”

“No,” Katie insisted and heard the familiar sound of a pickup turning in at the drive.

Ray’s nostrils flared, as if he’d encountered a bad smell. “Who’s here?” he demanded.

“I don’t know.”

“Liar.”

“Really. No one knows I’m here.”

Ray’s face clouded. He reached into his pocket and Katie couldn’t help but back up a step. There was a horrid click; the sound of metal snapping. A switchblade flashed. “Oh, God,” she whispered.

At that moment, the sound of Luke’s boots hit the back porch. She looked through the window and shook her head as she spied his rugged face, twisted with concern. “Katie?” He knocked loudly as Ray stepped away from the door. “You in there?”

“Go away!” she yelled.

“Shh.” Ray reached forward, grabbing her arm, but she resisted, pulling away, kicking at him with her feet, hearing the sound of Luke swearing and banging on the door.

“Let go of me!” She yanked away, but he grabbed her again, forcing her close, the smell of grease from his uniform filling her nostrils. Hard muscles restrained her and the knife was ever-present in his left hand.

“Katie!” Luke’s voice thundered through the house.

“Who’s that?” Ray snarled.

“A friend.”

“Tell him to get the hell out.”

“Luke, go away!” she cried, as worried for him as she was for herself.

There was a split second of silence.

Crash! Glass splintered and sprayed. A body, huddled against the impact, burst into the room and rolled over the broken glass.

“Damn.” Ray twirled, lifting Katie off her feet as Luke, recovering, found his footing and, all muscles flexed, eyes glimmering with fire, advanced.

“Stop!” Ray commanded.

“Let her go,” Luke ordered through lips that barely moved.

Ray’s grip tightened. Katie could scarcely breathe. “Get out!” he shouted at Luke.