They sat on Adirondack chairs on the front porch of the cottage. The street was quiet, and the waves of Lake Superior thundered out of sight behind them. He flicked away a hungry mosquito.

‘One minute she’s sweet and innocent,’ he said, ‘and the next she’s the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.’

‘Teenager,’ Serena said again.

‘I know, but she’s so intent on keeping the baby. And she’s not ready for it.’

‘No. Not at all.’

‘I can’t help but think . . .’ he began, but he cut off his words. He didn’t believe in anyone else making decisions for a woman. Even a woman who was really just a girl. He continued to believe that Cat should give up the child for adoption, but she kept insisting that she wanted to be a mother.

‘You can go through bad times as a teenager and come out okay,’ Serena pointed out. ‘I did.’

‘Yeah, but a lot of girls don’t.’

‘That’s true.’

He felt like a father to Cat, which made him feel old. Plenty of other things made him aware of his age, too. In the eight years since he’d lost Cindy, gray had begun to win the battle over black in his hair. The leg he’d broken last summer had healed, but in the dead of winter, he sometimes found himself limping. In a few months, he’d turn fifty. There was something about the change in decade that made it harder to pretend you were young.

Life had reminded him over and over that he wasn’t bulletproof. It wasn’t such a bad thing. He’d begun to accept his mistakes and imperfections. He didn’t bang his head against every wall. He and Serena, both wounded, both alone, had found a measure of peace with each other. If they could keep it.

And Cat.

He hadn’t realized how much he needed someone like Cat in his life until he found her shivering in his bedroom closet three months earlier, on the run from a killer. Now he couldn’t imagine being without her. Which was what made her behavior so frustrating. He couldn’t protect her from everything. Not even herself.

Serena took his hand. ‘I should have trusted my instincts at the bar.’

‘How so?’

‘I knew Kelly Hauswirth didn’t belong there. I should have talked to her.’

‘You couldn’t possibly have known she was in danger, and talking to her wouldn’t necessarily have changed a thing.’

Serena shrugged. She didn’t always take her own advice about living without regrets. ‘What about the murder weapon?’ she asked.

‘The BCA is running prints and ballistics. We don’t have a report yet.’

‘And the Grand Am?’

‘Stolen from a parking lot at the convention center. No one saw anything. No prints inside. It’s a dead end.’

‘I wish I’d seen his face.’