They’d be here soon. So think, dammit. Be prepared.

“You,” he said to the woman who stood trembling before him wearing Minnie Mouse pajamas and a robe. “What’s your name?”

“Evelyn,” she whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I said I wouldn’t, as long as you don’t scream. Are you here alone?”

She nodded, but her eyes flicked to the left. Cade followed her line of vision and smiled. Perfect. He limped through the kitchen to the living room, where a baby lay in a playpen, gurgling happily at the toys dangling over its head.

Shouldering the strap to his rifle, Cade scooped the baby up. The kid was cute. Maybe a year old. He didn’t know much about babies. “Where’s your husband?”

“I don’t have one,” Evelyn rasped.

Her ring finger was bare, so she might have been telling the truth. “Come with me.”

She was wringing her hands as tears rolled down her face. “Don’t hurt my baby. Please.”

He wheeled on her, giving her a glare that made her whimper. “I will not hurt your baby unless you scream or say or do anything that pisses me off. Give me your phone. Now.” Supporting the baby with one hand, he held out his other. “Now.”

Evelyn dug into the pocket of her robe and handed it to him, her hand shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. He pocketed the phone and motioned her to the stairs. “You first. And do not try anything.”

She obeyed, whimpering all the while. But she obeyed.

Her bedroom was nicely furnished, as were the two spare rooms—one as a bedroom and one as a study. No sign of a husband. He checked the closets for suits and wingtip shoes and found nothing but women’s clothes. And aprons. Lots of aprons that were made from heavy plastic, decorated with a dog driving a big van.

“What do you do for a living, Evelyn?”

“I’m . . . I’m a groomer. Dogs and cats.”

“When do you leave for work?” He could respect the fear causing her hesitation. But he had places to go. Like anywhere but here. “When, Evelyn?” he repeated, lifting the rifle just enough to press his point.

She exhaled, squaring her shoulders. “At six thirty. My first appointment is at eight, but I have to drop Jimmy at day care first.”

Six thirty could work. Assuming he could hide from the door-to-door searches until then. “We’ll figure that out. What do you drive?”

She frowned again. “A-a-a car?”

He fought for patience and lost. “What kind of car?” he snarled, and she flinched. Good. I want her to be afraid of me.

“A Civic.”