My skin bristled at the action, as if each step she took grated against my flesh. “If people don’t return your inquiries, take the damn hint. I’m not saying a word to you other than to get the hell off my property. After this, I think I’m going to have a damn good case for harassment. Possibly a restraining order, too.”

The woman, who I assumed was the Marcy Roberts who’d been filling my spam folder, froze. A hardness slipped over her features as her true nature came out. “That would be a mistake, Mr. Lockwood.”

The sound of another vehicle filtered through the air. I glanced down the drive, muttering a slew of curses. Caelyn’s SUV crested the hill, and my muscles stiffened. She didn’t know how to handle reporters. Hell, she might let something slip without even realizing it. Her vehicle came to a stop behind the rental, and she slid out. Her brown hair was in two braids tied with colorful bands. I couldn’t help the flicker of a smile, knowing that Mia must have demanded as much.

Caelyn grabbed a basket from the SUV, her gaze going from me to Marcy and back again, uncertainty filling her features. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to drop these muffins by.”

Marcy’s expression morphed into one of welcome in the blink of an eye. Gone were the shrewd offers and conniving threats. “You’re not interrupting. I’m Marcy Roberts. And you are?”

I could see story ideas, ones full of lies and conjecture, brewing in her head. “Don’t answer her,” I barked.

Caelyn jumped, and Marcy’s head snapped back to me. “That’s not very nice. It would be unfortunate if I had to write an article about how abusive you were to guests in your home. Want to rethink that statement?” She turned to Caelyn. “Maybe you’d like to share your story about Mr. Lockwood? We pay well for exclusives.”

The muscles in my back and shoulders tensed. All the lies that had been printed about me over the years. All the gossip and speculation. These vultures never wanted to just let my family rest in peace. Let me rest in peace.

Caelyn’s jaw went slack, her gaze jumping from Marcy to me and back again. As all the pieces came together, she strode forward and stepped between Marcy and me, her face going red. The picture she made was both hilarious and adorable. She looked as if she would defend me against any attack, a basket of baked goods on her arm. “You need to leave.”

“Interesting.” Marcy pulled a notebook from her pocket and began scribbling.

Caelyn stepped forward. “If you don’t leave on the count of three, I’m going to bean you with this basket. You’re on private property and acting in a threatening manner. I’d be well within my rights.”