Eden gingerly sat her stereo on the coffee table and then reached for the suitcases she’d tossed on the couch. She couldn’t wait to get in the shower. Her head hurt; her hair—stuffed under an Orioles baseball cap—was in desperate need of shampoo, and the secret that was strong enough for a man but made for a woman was about to become public news. Oh, I’m funky, she thought as she used the sleeve of her long-sleeved Bison Blue T-shirt to wipe her face. As she did so, her earring caught on the sleeve and came out of her ear. She’d planned to replace the clasp on her favorite hoops before leaving DC, but like many other plans she’d made in the past two weeks, these, too, had changed. Ever since resigning her job on Capitol Hill, her life had been a series of unexpected interruptions. Part of what she was hoping for with this move back home was a life without surprises.

“Freeze! Don’t move!” Jansen eased off the last step onto the floor, assumed a strong, wide-legged stance, and pointed his gun at the back of the scrawny, ball-capped thief who’d been wreaking havoc on the neighborhood. “Get your hands up and slowly turn around.”

Eden stood frozen, unable to speak or move. What’s going on? Where’s Michael? After hearing the music, and the water running, Eden had assumed it was Michael upstairs. But these strong, authoritative commands had definitely not been uttered from her brother’s lips, and her womanly intuition, along with a rapidly beating heart, told her this was not a joke.

“Do it now!” Jansen took another step toward his suspect.

Eden began to shake as she slowly turned around. She took one look at the huge man whose face was hidden in the darkness, noted the gun that—unlike his countenance—was clearly visible from his outstretched hands, and did what any normal, law-abiding citizen would do under such dire circumstances. She fainted.

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