“I think I’ll be okay without them,” Mercy said, and Rafe gave her hand another little squeeze before letting her go to open his car door.

“I hope you’re hungry,” he said. “I texted Mom that we were coming with guests. She’s cooking.”

“I’m starving,” Farrah said lightly. “What is she cooking?”

Sasha shrugged. “Something Russian. Whatever it is, it’ll be amazing. Farrah, can you take the other cat? I’ll get the litter boxes and food. You need your chair, Rafe?”

“No. I’m good.” He swung his legs from the SUV, leaning on his cane as his feet hit the pavement. “Better hustle, Mercy. Dinner is waiting and we are not very polite. You snooze, you lose around here.”

Holding Rory as tightly as the cat would allow, Mercy followed them in. Maybe it would be okay after all. And then the police cruiser pulled up behind them, blocking the driveway, reminding Mercy of the bitter truth.

Ephraim Burton was still out there and he would be back. Picking up her pace, she all but fled into the Sokolovs’ house. Where it was safe. For now.

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

SATURDAY, APRIL 15, 7:50 P.M.

“Welcome, welcome!” Irina Sokolov ushered them all into their family home, a smile on her face. “My goodness, you two girls must be exhausted after your trip.”

And your ordeal went unsaid. Diplomacy and hospitality were Rafe’s mother’s gifts and he loved her for them, especially at the moment when Mercy rushed into the house, looking over her shoulder at the cruiser parked across the driveway.

Her smile was gone and Rafe wanted it back. He’d managed to eke one out, there at the end, but he’d been watching her over his shoulder as she’d given the cruiser a long, hard stare, the pale haunted look returning to her face.

“Mercy. It is so good to see you again.” Irina started to give Mercy a hug, then hung back. “You’re bleeding.” She shot Rafe an outraged glare. “Why did you not tell me that she was injured?”

Rafe frowned at the red stain spreading on Mercy’s blouse. She’d changed in the restroom at the airport, giving the bloody blouse that Ephraim had sliced to the police for evidence. But this new blouse was now bloody as well. “She said she’d stopped bleeding.”

“And I didn’t want him to tell you, Mrs. Sokolov,” Mercy said. “I’m really okay. I must have bumped it when I was getting out of the SUV. I’ll just change again. Please start dinner without me. I don’t want to make everyone wait.”

“Nonsense,” Irina tutted. “I will have a quick look and bandage you myself.” She turned to Farrah, her smile wide. “You are Mercy’s friend from New Orleans, yes?”

“Yes. I’m Farrah Romero. Thank you for inviting us to dinner. I hope we haven’t intruded.”

“Dr. Farrah Romero,” Sasha inserted. “Mom, I’m going to set Mercy’s cats up in my room. Don’t let Rafe eat all the kavardak!” she called as she charged up the stairs, cat supplies in hand.