“OK.” Bill grabbed the broom from the pantry and went out onto the back porch. Mandy filled a watering can and joined him. She gave both pots of pansies a thorough drink. “Thank you for the flowers.”

Bill paused midsweep, his face crinkling in confusion. “You already thanked me when I gave them to you.”

“For the first ones, but not these.” Mandy tilted the can over the new container.

Bill shook his head. “I wouldn’t give you anything like that. The flowers are pretty, but the pot is ugly and kind of scary.”

Mandy pointed to the branch tied over the door. “Have you ever seen that?”

“Nope.” Bill imitated Danny’s voice. The broom whisked across the floorboards.

Mandy scanned the yard. The bright sunshine contrasted with the darkness of her thoughts. Who had been on her porch last night? She set the watering can on the painted gray boards and squatted to examine the flowerpot. It was about a foot high and maybe a foot and a half across. The metal was dull silver in color. In addition to the repeated image of a man’s face in circle of flames, the pot was adorned with spirals and horses and interlocking triangles. The overall effect was primitive—and intimidating. It didn’t look like anything available at a garden center.

Mandy leaned closer. A small tag on a green stem nestled amid the blossoms. A floral arrangement gift tag? She reached for it, turning the cardboard around to read the front. Tiny roses and hearts decorated the face. In the center, a message was typed in fancy script. A leftover Valentine’s Day card?

Be Mine.

Mandy flinched away from it. Straightening wobbly knees, she backed away. Her heartbeat amplified until the echo of blood rushing in her ears drowned out the tweeting of birds and the faint scrape of straw sweeping across wood. She scanned the yard, her gaze burrowing into every shadow. No one was there.

The other threats had been direct, point-blank instructions. The flowers that had been pretty two minutes ago now gave her the creeps. This was different. This wasn’t blackmail. This had a whole different feel. This was personal. Someone who knew her favorite flowers. Could she have more than one stalker?

You’re mine, Nathan had said, but it couldn’t be him.

Bill’s broom stopped moving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She gave her brother a fake smile. “Let’s go inside. It’s almost lunchtime.”

“But I’m not done,” he protested.

“You can finish later.”

Bill’s jaw clenched. “Danny says it’s important to finish what you start.”

Mandy caved. “All right. You finish up the sweeping, then I’ll make us both lunch. How’s that sound?”

“Great.”