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Two reader-favorite Guardians of Coral Cove stories.
Obsession

FBI Agent Colin Roarke vows to protect former crush Michelle Girard from the “Reunion Killer.” Staying one step ahead is Colin’s specialty, but as his frustration intensifies, so do the complications of long-buried feelings. When Michelle is kidnapped, clues lead Colin to an abandoned mansion where dark secrets are concealed—and dangerous desires hidden.

Eyewitness

Four years in an Afghan prison couldn’t erase beautiful Devon Reese from Kieran Roarke’s damaged memory. So when they meet on a beach back in Coral Cove and she begs for help, he doesn’t hesitate. Especially when he learns Devon’s little boy—a son he hadn’t known existed—witnessed a murder. Kieran is desperate to keep his new family safe. He lost them once—he won’t lose them again.

Praise for author Carol Ericson

“Small towns hold the best secrets, and Ericson slowly unravels each one until the final climax.”

—RT Reviews on Obsession

“Elise Duran…is my favorite type of heroine—strong yet vulnerable… I highly recommend this for fans of mystery and intrigue.”

—HarlequinJunkie.com on The Bridge

“A fantastic read from first page to last. Be sure to take in The Stranger and I, Carol Ericson’s debut Harlequin Intrigue, and keep a look out for more. Carol Ericson will quickly become a favorite…”

—CataRomance.com

“From the first page, Ericson’s story will grab readers and cannon them through the adventure, tears and terrors of a homecoming that doesn’t go as planned.”

—RT Reviews on Eyewitness

CAROL ERICSON

lives with her husband and two sons in Southern California, home of state-of-the-art cosmetic surgery, wild freeway chases, palm trees bending in the Santa Ana winds and a million amazing stories. These stories, along with hordes of sexy men and feisty women, clamor for release from Carol’s head. It makes for some interesting headaches until she sets them free to fulfill their destinies and her readers’ fantasies. To find out more about Carol and her current books, visit her website, carolericson.com, “where romance flirts with danger.”

Books by Carol Ericson

Harlequin Intrigue

Run, Hide

Conceal, Protect

Trap, Secure

Catch, Release

The Bridge

The District

The Wharf

The Hill

Under Fire

Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

Obsession & Eyewitness

Carol Ericson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

OBSESSION

EYEWITNESS

Obsession

Carol Ericson

For my dad,

who loved the central coast of California.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

CHAPTER ONE

NO, I DO not need a lifetime supply of Viagra. Michelle Girard snorted as she deleted the unopened email, sending it to the black hole of cyberspace. Maybe Alec Wright, the computer teacher at school, could suggest a better spam filter, one that didn’t allow this garbage to slip through to her inbox.

As her cursor hovered over the next message, a breath of apprehension puffed against the nape of her neck and her hand trembled. The words in the subject line punched her in the gut. Like mother, like daughter?

Different unknown sender from last month, same message. And just like last month, she deleted the email without opening it or reading it and then cleared her delete folder. She didn’t know if the message contained more content than the insidious question, and she didn’t want to find out.

She jumped at the sharp rap on her front door and slammed her laptop shut, as if that could banish the disturbing email from her mind. She dropped the math quizzes she had to grade on top of the computer and crept to the door. Twitching back the curtain on the window, she blew out a deep breath and waved at Amanda, her best friend.

Amanda banged on the door and yelled, “Don’t just stand there gawking. Let me in, already.”

Michelle swung open the door, and Amanda charged across the threshold, gripping her upper arms, a sweater draped around her shoulders. She gave an exaggerated shiver. “This June gloom sucks.”

Michelle peered outside at the once-sunny day now shrouded in a slow-moving fog rolling in from the beach. June days in the little coastal town of Coral Cove usually started out overcast and ended that way.

She snapped the door shut and turned to survey her friend. “What are you doing here, and why are you all dressed up?”

“This old thing?” Amanda glanced down at her shimmering summer dress and plucked at the floral skirt as her sweater slipped to the floor.

“Since you usually work at home in sweats and a T-shirt, there must be some special occasion.” Michelle crossed her arms, waiting for news of Amanda’s next harebrained scheme. She adored her friend, but she was as flighty as a butterfly in a gust of wind.

“You have to point that out, don’t you?” She adjusted the bodice of her dress and spread her arms out, pausing theatrically. “Colin Roarke is back in town.”

Michelle raised one brow. “Colin Roarke?”

“Oh, please. Even you with your bookish ways and band of nerds must’ve heard of the Roarke brothers in high school.” She tousled her blond-streaked hair and took a twirl around the room. “Colin was four years ahead of us and Kieran was six years ahead.”

“Of course I’ve heard of them.” Michelle dipped to scoop up Amanda’s sweater from the floor, her hair sweeping across her suddenly flushed cheeks. She hadn’t given Colin Roarke much thought since she’d had a mad, useless, crazy crush on him in high school.

“I know they both got football scholarships to college. The family lived down the road from here.” Michelle tilted her head. “Didn’t the parents retire to Hawaii or something? The dad made a killing in the dot-com industry and pulled out before it all went bust.”

Amanda’s mouth hung open. “Who cares about their parents? Colin is back in town, and he’s hotter and hunkier than ever, or so I’ve heard. I haven’t had a peek at him yet, but we’re about to remedy that.”

“You’re going to check out Colin Roarke?” Michelle laughed. Amanda and her husband had separated exactly two months ago, and she spent all her time trying to make him jealous.

“And you’re coming with me, so I don’t look too obvious.”

Michelle smirked. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to look too obvious. Where is this rare specimen of hunky manhood and what’s he doing back in town? We’re the ones with the ten-year reunion this summer.”

Amanda formed a pout with her lipsticked mouth. “Too bad Colin wasn’t in our class. Maybe I could’ve snagged him instead of that loser Ryan.”

Michelle clicked her tongue feeling like a schoolmarm. “Ryan is not a loser. He’s a good cop and he loves you.”

“He cheated on me.”

“Not exactly. He sent some inappropriate emails to a woman in another state.” Michelle’s gaze darted to her closed-up laptop. Those inappropriate emails seemed to be contagious.

Amanda brushed her hands together. “Whatever. Are you coming with me or not? Colin’s at Burgers and Brews, but we’ll miss him if you dawdle.”

“Early dinner?” Michelle dropped Amanda’s sweater across the arm of a chair and checked her watch.

She really had to get those quizzes graded so she could enjoy the rest of her weekend, but she welcomed Amanda’s interruption. That email, the second in two months, had spooked her, and she didn’t relish the thought of hunkering down in her beach cottage alone as the fog pressed in on her.

“Sure. That’s a good excuse.” Amanda grabbed Michelle’s purse from the table by the window and tossed it to her.

A short drive later in Amanda’s Mercedes, they rolled into the center of town. Michelle rubbed a circle in the condensation on the window and peered outside. “You can actually see more than ten feet in front of you here, but that’s not going to last long. The fog’s on its way.”

“And I’m on my way to meet Colin.” Amanda threw her car into Park and cut the engine.

Michelle struggled into her sweater as she climbed from the car. “You never did tell me what he’s doing back in town. Visiting old friends?”

“That’s what he’s doing at Bryan’s restaurant.” Hunching forward, Amanda dabbed at her lipstick in the side mirror. “He was good friends with Bryan Sotelo, but I think he’s here on a case.”

“A case?” Michelle hugged the sweater around her body against the cool, moist air seeping into her skin. From the town grapevine, she’d heard that Colin had become an FBI agent after returning from Afghanistan to a hero’s welcome. There had been some tragedy over there involving his older brother.

“Something about Tiffany Gunderson’s accident.”

Michelle wrinkled her nose. “The FBI doesn’t investigate accidents. She fell down an elevator shaft and broke her neck. It didn’t even happen here in Coral Cove. Do they suspect foul play?”

“How am I supposed to know that? You sound exactly like my husband.” Amanda grabbed Michelle’s arm. “Let’s go before Colin leaves.”

“Hi, Ms. Girard.”

Michelle turned toward the two voices, the greeting spoken in unison. Four of her students lounged on the bench outside the local pizza place. The two girls waved, their long, skinny legs encased in short shorts and furry boots. The two boys perched on the arms of the bench, their hoods pulled up over their heads, matching teenaged smirks on their faces.

Michelle’s heart lurched for a moment before she waved and pasted on a smile. “Enjoy your weekend.”

Could one of her students be behind the annoying emails? They probably wouldn’t know her history, but their parents might. She hadn’t thought of reporting the emails to the police, but a third one might constitute harassment.

Amanda sighed. “Sorry. I forgot it was dollar night at Vinnie’s, and some of your snot-nosed students would be hanging around. Just didn’t think they’d be here this early.”

“Sydney and Maddie are nice girls. I don’t mind running into my students as long as I’m not doing something stupid.”

“You never do anything stupid, Michelle. Remember dollar nights at Vinnie’s? We just used it as an excuse to hook up with guys in the back parking lot.” Amanda clapped a hand over her mouth.

Michelle shrugged. “Yeah, I never spent a lot of time at Vinnie’s in high school.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Amanda pulled her close in a one-armed hug. “Teenagers can be so cruel.”

Cruel enough to send hurtful emails?

Laughing, Michelle returned the hug. Amanda had been one of the girls who’d shunned her in high school, but they’d become good friends since Michelle had helped Amanda set up an accounting system for her home business a few years ago.

“Nothing much has changed. Here you are hoping to hook up with Colin Roarke, except this time it’s in a restaurant, not behind it.”

As they pushed through the front door of Burgers and Brews, Amanda pinched her. “Shh.”

Not that anyone in the restaurant could hear Michelle’s comment. The chatter from the group of people in the far corner of the room drowned out the music, and the hostess had to shout above the noise.

“Table for two?”

Michelle nodded and jerked her thumb toward the noisy crowd. “What’s going on over there?”

The young hostess shrugged. “Word got out that Colin Roarke was back in town, which created a ministampede of his high school buds.”

As Michelle pulled out her chair, she glanced at the clutch of people. A tall man at its center, oddly detached amid the furor, met her gaze. For whatever reason, an electric current zapped between them, and Michelle felt it down to her toes.

She averted her gaze and dropped into her chair. Must be those football-star good looks—the broad shoulders, the square jaw. She hadn’t been immune to those attractions in high school, and now the man’s appeal hit her like a sledgehammer all over again.

After the waitress took their drink orders, Amanda propped up her menu and peeped over the top. “They’re having their own class reunion over there. Mmm-mmm, Colin looks better than ever. A few more lines on his face, but the body still looks rock hard. He’s probably older, wiser…and more experienced.”

“He looks…sad.” Michelle shot a few glances at the group, bubbling with laughter and conversation. Colin contributed a word or a smile here and there, but he seemed aloof, separate from the people around him.

“Are you crazy? That’s Colin Roarke you’re talking about—football star, war hero, FBI stud.”

The waitress delivered their drinks and Michelle blew on her hot tea. “Why was he a war hero? What did he do?”

Amanda wrapped her lips around the straw from her soda, staring unabashedly at Colin across the room. “I think you were in Europe on that sabbatical when all the news came through. Taliban forces captured Colin in Afghanistan. He escaped, but…”

Ducking behind her menu, Amanda hissed. “He’s coming.”

Colin strode past their table, a frown creasing his brow. He waved to someone behind the bar and then turned the corner to the restrooms.

“I think he noticed us.” Amanda slapped the menu against the table. “Or at least you. He kept staring over here.”

Michelle scoffed even though she’d felt a jolt when her eyes had met Colin’s. Had he felt it, too? “Aren’t you going to follow him into the bathroom?”

Amanda’s eyes narrowed and she clicked her long fingernails on the side of her glass. “That’s not a bad idea. I could stumble in there and pretend I thought it was the ladies’ room.”

The waitress took their order and apologized for the slow service. “I’m a little overwhelmed tonight.”

When she walked away, Amanda shot a quick glance at herself in the mirror over the bar. “She’s not the only one who’s overwhelmed. I almost swooned when Colin walked past our table.”

Michelle smiled into her tea. Her friend desperately wanted to feel an attraction for anyone other than her estranged husband, but Michelle could see right through her. She nodded toward the tall man striding back into the dining room. “If you were planning on following him, you’re too late.”

Colin crossed the room, running a hand through his short, dark hair. His gait slowed as he approached their table, and Michelle held her breath for some absurd reason. Amanda had infected her with her silliness.

He stalled at their table, and Michelle’s heart jumped. “Excuse me, ladies. Did you both graduate the same year as Tiffany Gunderson?”

Nothing personal, just business. Michelle blew out a breath and answered, since Amanda seemed uncharacteristically tongue-tied. “Yes, we did.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Michelle Girard and this is Amanda Stewart.”

As he clasped her hand in a warm embrace, she noticed scars crisscrossing his wrist. Had the sadness she’d sensed led him to try something crazy?

“Of course I remember you—the girl down the block. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m Colin Roarke.” He released her hand and Michelle had an acute feeling of loss.

He remembered her?

He turned to Amanda. “Stewart? Are you related to Sergeant Ryan Stewart of the Coral Cove P.D.?”

“Married to him.” A soft pink brushed Amanda’s cheeks. “Sort of.”

Colin raised his brows and a crooked smile claimed his mouth. “He’s a good man.”

That smile set into motion a chain of events across Michelle’s body, ending in butterfly wings in her belly. Her unrequited schoolgirl crush had sneaked up on her sensible adult self.

Colin reached into the front pocket of his denim shirt and pulled out two business cards. He slid them onto the table. “I’d like to talk to you about Tiffany while I’m in town. Give me a call.”

Michelle traced the edge of the card with her fingertip. “So Tiffany’s death wasn’t an accident? If not, why aren’t the San Francisco police handling the investigation?”

A spark of interest ignited Colin’s dark blue eyes. “I’d rather not discuss that here. Call me.”

“Hey, Colin. Come over here and set Jeff straight on how that game with Costa ended.”

Colin pinned Michelle with his dusky blue gaze and rolled his eyes. “Nice to…see you again.”

Michelle chewed her bottom lip as Colin ambled back to his high school classmates, their bubbling memories sweeping him back into their circle. The favorite hometown son didn’t wear the label with ease.

“We haven’t been in the joint fifteen minutes and we have his card.” Amanda scooped up the prize and pressed it to her breast.

“Because he wants to ask us questions about Tiffany.” Michelle rubbed her thumb against the embossed letters proclaiming Colin Roarke an FBI agent. “Why do you think the FBI’s involved in an investigation of Tiffany’s death?”

Amanda lifted a bare shoulder. “It happened in the big city. Anything can happen there. At least we have an excuse to call him.”

“How did he know we were in Tiffany’s class and what would we know about her life in San Francisco?”

“Why do you have to analyze everything to death? Just sit back and enjoy, because I swear the man had his eye on you. He even remembered you from the neighborhood.”

Michelle pressed her lips together as the waitress delivered their food. So Amanda had noticed that, too. Michelle hadn’t had much contact with the popular Roarke boys growing up, even though the family had lived down the road. But one scene shifted into focus, and Michelle’s cheeks burned with the memory.

She must’ve been fifteen because it happened shortly after her mother left. Michelle had retreated to her special place on the beach, a semicircle of boulders against the bluff, her own private hideaway. She hadn’t cried about her mother since she’d left, but that day the tears flowed like a river of sadness.

Suddenly, her world grew darker. She’d glanced up at Colin Roarke’s large form hovering at the entrance to her secret fort, blocking out the sun. He must’ve been home from college. He’d been surfing and his wet suit dangled around his hips. He’d asked her if she was okay, and Michelle was pretty sure she’d told him to buzz off.

Colin probably didn’t remember that. Why would he?

“Told you so.” Amanda tapped her fork against Michelle’s water glass. “You have a very satisfied smile on your lips right now. The man is hot and he noticed you.”

Michelle responded by taking a big bite of her burger.

Amanda stabbed a tomato with her fork. “I think I’d better find another friend for cruising—one who’s not tall, thin and gorgeous.”

“Moi?” Michelle choked down her food.

“Don’t moi me. Ever since you got back from Paris, you look more like a fashion model than a high school math teacher.”

Michelle dabbed her lips, hiding the lower half of her face behind her napkin. After Dad died a few years ago and Michelle fled Coral Cove for a summer in Paris, she had stepped up her game a little. She’d even gone out on a few dates, but she’d hardly describe herself as a femme fatale. She’d always shied away from that image because of Mom.

As they ate dinner and chatted around mouthfuls of food, Amanda sent fewer and fewer flirty glances toward the lively group in the corner. She pushed the last bits of lettuce around her plate and dropped her lashes. “So you think I should give Ryan another chance?”

“What’s wrong? Being on the prowl isn’t as exciting as you imagined? You’ve given up on the hometown hero already?” Michelle shoved her plate forward and planted her elbows on the table.

Amanda shook her head. “Colin’s hot, but he’s not my type. He’s not the life of the party like I expected.”

“Like Ryan.”

“Yeah.” Amanda managed a tremulous smile.

“Then get home and call him.” Michelle waved to the waitress. As she fumbled in her wallet for money, Michelle slid a glance toward the reunion crowd, but Colin had disappeared. He must’ve slipped out the back, escaping from his own party.

They stepped onto the sidewalk and Michelle blinked. The fog had rolled in from the ocean, blanketing Coral Cove’s main street in thick cotton. It would be even denser at her house.

“You okay to drive in this pea soup? It might be safer to walk.”

“Yeah, but you live in one direction and I live in the other, so we’d have to part company here.” Amanda dug her keys out of her purse. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to walk by myself in this wet blanket. Gives me the creeps.”

“Just drive safely.” Michelle took Amanda’s arm and they stepped into the street, peering both ways.

As Michelle grabbed the car door handle, two dark figures emerged from the fog, appearing almost next to her. She gasped, pressing her body against the car.

The two teenaged boys laughed and pushed each other. “I bet the girls are hiding in the parking lot.”

Michelle yanked open the door and dropped onto the seat. “Those kids scared the spit out of me.”

“The girls could be hiding right in front of them, and they’d have a hard time seeing them.” Amanda cranked on the engine. “Can’t wait until June is over and we get some summer sunshine.”

Amanda’s car crawled down the street and she edged around the next turn, hunching forward in her seat. “I hope you know where your house is because I can’t see a thing.”

“The Vincents’ house is on the right, the one with the big spotlight on their driveway. They left for a few weeks in Europe this morning.” Michelle pointed to a glow, diffused by the fog. “Then there should be two streetlights on the left, and my house is at the second streetlight. Across from the streetlights, there’s a long stretch of darkness where Columbella House is.”

“I see the first light.” Amanda eased off the accelerator. “And there’s the second one.”

Amanda made an abrupt illegal U-turn in the middle of the street. “Sorry to give you whiplash, but I don’t want to go anywhere near Columbella House. Now that place gives me the creeps.”

“Thanks for the ride, Amanda.” Michelle grabbed the door handle and glanced back at her friend. “You left your sweater at my house. I can bring it to you later.”

Amanda cut the engine. “I’d better get it now…just in case I don’t go straight home tonight.”

They both slid from the car, Amanda leaving her headlights on and the driver’s-side door open to the street.

The headlights created a glow, spilling light on the beginning of Michelle’s walkway beyond her little fence. She unlatched the gate and Amanda trailed after her.

“You really think I should call Ryan tonight?”

“Absolutely. Give him a chance to do the mea culpa. A few emails do not constitute a full-blown affair.”

“I’m surprised you’re so…forgiving, Michelle.”

Michelle shrugged. “It’s the opposite. You should be surprised if I weren’t.”

Amanda walked with Michelle to the front door and out of reach of the headlights. Luckily Michelle had turned on her porch light before she’d left, so she could actually put her key in the lock.

Thrusting open the door, she ducked inside and snagged Amanda’s sweater from the chair. She handed it to her friend and gave her a hug. “Call him.”

She watched as Amanda floated down the walkway, the fog sucking her into its embrace. Michelle waited, listening for the slam of the car door and the growl of the engine. Instead she heard…a soft thud. Fog this thick muted noise, but that didn’t sound like a car door.

“Amanda?” Michelle squinted into the white wisps swirling around her. The lights from Amanda’s car created a dull illumination on the sidewalk, but Michelle couldn’t focus on anything beyond that. Maybe Amanda couldn’t wait to get home and decided to call Ryan on her cell phone.

Michelle descended one step, her hand clutching the banister beside her. “Amanda?”

Scuffling sounds broke the eerie silence, causing the hair on the back of Michelle’s neck to quiver. Her clammy hand slipped from the banister. Had Amanda tripped and fallen on the ground?

Clasping her sweater to her chest, Michelle inched down the walkway to the gate Amanda had latched behind her. Across the sidewalk, still parked in the street, Amanda’s Mercedes loomed in the fog.

“Amanda, where are you?” Michelle pushed open the gate and stumbled onto the sidewalk. She walked in front of the car toward the driver’s side, the door still open to the street. As she scuffed her feet along the asphalt, hands held in front of her like a blind person, her toe plowed into something soft and giving on the ground.

Michelle’s heart skittered in her chest as she crouched down next to the inert form. Amanda must’ve fallen and injured herself. The lights from the car’s interior cast a waxy glow on Amanda’s pale cheek. Michelle wedged a hand beneath her friend’s head and turned it toward her.

Amanda’s wide, staring eyes sent a river of chills down Michelle’s spine. Then she became aware of the sticky wetness oozing through her fingers.

As Michelle drew away her hand, Amanda’s head lolled back revealing a dark slash across her neck.

Michelle fell backward, as a high, keening wail pierced the blanket of fog. It wasn’t until she stopped to breathe that she realized the sound was coming from her own mouth.

CHAPTER TWO

THE CRY, LIKE an animal in extreme pain, shot through the fog and pierced his gut. But Colin knew human suffering when he heard it. He was intimately familiar with human suffering.

He dropped the rocks he’d been chucking into the water and lurched toward the sound. After a few seconds’ break, the wail began again and he glommed onto the sound of misery like a homing device. He stumbled from the sand onto the dirt path leading to the road.

Through the veil of white mist, he discerned a car parked on the street, its headlights on and the driver’s-side door open. As he jogged closer, the fog parted to reveal two figures, both on the ground next to the open door. Had there been an accident?

He heaved to a stop, his chest tight, adrenaline pumping through his system. One person lay crumpled on the ground and the other, a woman, leaned back on her arms, her head thrown back, her face twisted with anguish.

He squatted beside the nonresponsive person and jerked back. Someone had slit her throat. He’d seen her face before…at the restaurant.

He scrambled toward the other woman, Michelle Girard, and grabbed her shoulders. “What happened? Who did this?”

Her wide, glassy eyes skimmed his face as she dragged in another breath. He shook her to dispel the shock, and the oncoming scream gurgled in her throat.

Then her gaze darted back and forth and she clutched his shirt, popping off two buttons with the strength of her grip. “He’s here.”

She scrambled to her feet, dragging him with her. Her body shook convulsively and her knees gave way. Before she could fall to the ground, Colin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away from the body of her friend.

“Did you see him?”

Her head whipped around, dislodging the droplets of moisture clinging to her hair and showering his face. “No. He must still be here. I didn’t hear a car. I didn’t see anything.”

Colin reached between their bodies and unzipped his gun bag, hanging around his waist. He withdrew his weapon and pulled Michelle toward the house with the white picket fence. “This is your house, right?”

She glanced at his Glock, and a tremble rolled through her slim frame.

“I’m Colin Roarke.” He rubbed a circle on her stiff back. “Do you remember me from the restaurant a few hours ago?”

She nodded, and he propelled her toward the front door. He halted on the porch. “Did you leave your door open?”

Again she nodded, and Colin pushed over the threshold, clutching his gun. Michelle clung to his arm with her blood-stained hands as he checked the other rooms in the small house.

He grabbed her phone and called 9-1-1, and then tried to get Michelle to sit down. Shivers racked her body, and Colin knew if he released her she’d plunge to the floor.

Finally she bent her knees and perched on the edge of her couch. “It just happened. She was leaving my house. I heard noises, but I couldn’t see anything. Oh, my God, he murdered her right in front of me and I didn’t see a thing.”

As she buried her face in her hands, Colin put his arm around her heaving shoulders. She’d been lucky the killer hadn’t come after her. His muscles ached with tension. He wanted to run out there and find the SOB who had done this, but he couldn’t leave Michelle.

He wouldn’t leave her like he did that time when she was a kid.

Sirens blared through the night and they both jumped. Michelle jerked her head up, a shaky hand covering her mouth. “I hope Ryan’s not working tonight. He can’t see Amanda like that.”

Colin pushed off the sofa and headed for the door. Michelle trailed after him. “You can wait inside, Michelle. Someone will come in to question you.”

She twisted her hands, still smudged with traces of her friend’s blood. “I can’t stay inside, especially if Ryan’s out there.”

Colin dragged the collar of Michelle’s sweater up to her pale face. “You don’t need to see Amanda again. Stay in the yard.”

He stepped onto the porch, tucking Michelle behind him. Three police cars and an ambulance squealed to a stop in the street. Must’ve emptied out the entire P.D. of Coral Cove. Did they even have a homicide detective? Colin strode forward, holding his FBI badge in front of him as the red-and-blue lights filtered through the fog.

Colin scanned the faces of the cops swarming out of their cars and didn’t see Sergeant Stewart among them. But like any small-town cop off duty, he’d pick up the call on his scanner. He’d know his wife had been with Michelle Girard tonight.

The officer in charge peeled away from the surge of cops and barreled toward Colin. “What happened?”

“Mrs. Stewart dropped off Ms. Girard and somebody attacked Mrs. Stewart before she got into her car.”

Michelle hovered behind Colin, hooking a finger in his belt loop. She didn’t seem to be able to stand on her own without wobbling, but Colin didn’t mind being her rock.

The cop smacked a hand to his forward. “Stewart? Amanda Stewart, Sarge’s wife?”

“That’s right, Clark. It happened in front of me, but I couldn’t see a thing.” Michelle had stepped forward, pulling back her shoulders, still clutching Colin’s arm for support.

Another pair of headlights plowed through the fog, and tires screeched on the damp asphalt. A man’s voice, frantic and hollow, echoed in the night. Sergeant Stewart stumbled into the crime scene, now illuminated with spotlights and casting an eerie yellow light on all the grim faces. He dropped onto his knees next to his wife’s body and groaned.

Michelle broke away from Colin, her stride strong and purposeful. Two uniformed officers prevented her from approaching Stewart, but she called to him.

From his doubled over position, Stewart raised his head. He staggered to his feet and tripped toward Michelle. She held out her arms and Ryan crushed her body to his, burying his face in her shoulder.

His muffled voice repeated, “What happened? What happened?”

“Officer—” Colin peered at the cop’s badge “—Trammell? Maybe you should question Ms. Girard inside and get Sergeant Stewart away from the crime scene.”

Trammell nodded. “It’s Lieutenant Trammell. You’re that FBI agent, Roarke, in town to investigate Tiffany Gunderson’s death, right?”

“I am.”

Trammell swiped a hand across his brow. “Looks like death is following you around, Agent Roarke.”

Colin clenched his teeth. You have no idea, Lieutenant.

Trammell yelled to one of the gawking officers. “Get County on the line now. Tell them we need a homicide detective and a CSI team.” Trammell tapped Michelle on the back while he clapped his hand on Sergeant Stewart’s shoulder. “Go inside, Sarge.”

With her arm clasped around Stewart’s waist, Michelle led him through the gate and up the brick walkway to her house.

She’d been falling apart just a few minutes ago. Now she was supporting her friend’s husband with the strength of an Amazon woman. Michelle settled Stewart on the sofa and retrieved a box of tissues from the bathroom.

“Do you want some water, Ryan? Something stronger?” She shoved the tissues toward him.

“No. Nothing. What happened, Michelle?”

Stewart asked the question, but Trammell pulled out his notebook.

While Stewart alternately sobbed and cursed, Michelle recounted how Amanda had driven her home and walked to the front door to get her sweater. She grabbed one of the tissues and dabbed her nose. “She disappeared into the fog and I kept waiting for her car to start but I didn’t hear it. I heard some noises and when I went out to investigate…I found her on the ground.”

“Where’d you go tonight, Michelle?” Lieutenant Trammell looked up from scribbling in his notebook.

She glanced at Colin and then shifted her gaze back to Trammell. “We went to Burgers and Brews for an early dinner.”

“Why there? Why tonight?” Stewart practically barked his questions, and Trammell’s jaw tightened.

The tension in the air stretched as tight as a new string on a guitar. Jealous husband? Colin would’ve gone in for the kill with Stewart on edge. Trammell hadn’t even asked Sergeant Stewart for an alibi, but local cops handled their own differently. The homicide detective on his way from County would take care of business.

Trammell cleared his throat. “What were you doing outside, Agent Roarke?”

“My parents have a house down the street from Ms. Girard’s on the other side of Columbella. I walked there after dinner in town and was chucking rocks on the beach when I heard Ms. Girard scream.”

“Did anyone else come out of their house? The Vincents? Did you see anything?”

“There was nobody on the street. I saw the parked car and the two women. I didn’t want to leave Ms. Girard alone to do a search of the area. Can’t see two feet in front of you in this fog, anyway.”

“The Vincents are out of town.” Michelle shot Colin a grateful look from beneath her dark lashes.

Taking care of Sergeant Stewart had put the soft color back into her cheeks. Being needed had given her purpose and direction. Stewart knew he could lean on her, since he’d been clutching her hand ever since they’d sat down.

Just as Michelle had leaned on him after the murder. And he’d liked someone counting on him for the first time since…

As Trammell continued his questioning of Michelle and took a sample of the blood from her hands, Colin kept his lips sealed. He had his own notions about Amanda’s death, but he had more digging to do before trampling all over the local P.D.’s investigation. He’d need a closer look at the crime scene before jumping to any conclusions, and if he found the telltale sign that this murder was connected to Tiffany’s and Belinda’s, he could make a case to his supervisors to take over the investigation.

Because even though he’d led the CCPD to believe he was here on official business, he was actually on vacation. They didn’t need to know that just yet.

Tucking his notepad back into his shirt pocket, Trammell pushed up from the sofa. “Are you going to be okay, Michelle? The team’s probably going to be in front of your house for most the night, so this is the safest place to be right now.”

“I’ll be fine, but what about Ryan?” She squeezed the sergeant’s knee and tears flooded his eyes again.

Colin tracked every detail of the sergeant’s demeanor. The man had skipped right past shock into grief. How had he gotten to Michelle’s house so quickly when he was off duty? He’d asked earlier why Michelle and his wife had gone to Burgers and Brews. That implied they weren’t living together or Mrs. Stewart hadn’t bothered to tell her husband where she was going.

Trammell studied the toes of his shiny black shoes. “Sergeant Stewart is coming to the station for some questions.”

Another fat tear rolled down Stewart’s cheek. Either he didn’t catch the significance of Trammell’s statement or he didn’t care because he had nothing to hide.

A Detective Marsh from the county appeared and assured Trammell that his CSI guys were gathering evidence while the Coral Cove cops were canvassing the neighborhood.

Before taking off with Trammell to question Sergeant Stewart, Detective Marsh had a few more questions for Colin and Michelle.

Michelle told him she hadn’t heard a car’s engine or footsteps or any other noises after finding her friend’s body. And Colin had heard only Michelle’s wail. That’s all he’d needed to hear to block out every other sound and sensation except for an urgent desire to trample out the source of Michelle’s pain.

Colin had his own question for Detective Marsh. “Did you find anything unusual on the body? Flowers? Petals?”

“If the crime scene investigators found anything, they’d have it bagged and tagged by now, Agent Roarke. This isn’t your case yet, is it?”

Colin rolled his eyes. He hated the petty politics of jurisdiction and one-upsmanship that dominated some law enforcement agencies. “Not yet, Detective Marsh.”

Marsh lifted a brawny shoulder. “Then I guess you won’t find out until it is yours.”

Trammell and Marsh accompanied Stewart to the police department, but the coroner’s van had arrived and the cops were still traversing the area. Michelle would hardly be alone, but Colin found it difficult to abandon her.

She dragged in a shaky breath and closed her eyes. “Thank you for coming when you did. H-he could’ve attacked again. I honestly don’t think I could have moved from that spot if you hadn’t come along.”

“I’m glad I was outside.” Colin unlatched his gun bag and settled it, heavy with his weapon, on Michelle’s coffee table. “It’s strange that neither one of us heard a car or footsteps running.”

Her eyelids flew open and she hugged herself, her fingertips burrowing into her sweater. “Even if a Mack truck had driven by, I don’t think I would’ve noticed.”

“But I would have, and I didn’t hear anything.”

“By the time I found Amanda and screamed the killer had probably already run away.” She hunched her shoulders. “You wouldn’t have heard anything once you reached us…me.”

Colin jumped from the couch and crossed the room to the front window. He twitched back the curtain. The back doors of the coroner’s van yawned open, ready for its cargo.

“Columbella House still empty?”

“Ever since… Yeah, still empty.” Michelle shivered and rubbed her arms through her thick sweater.

Colin pressed his hand against the cool glass. “Maybe the killer ran for cover over there and then took off amid the noise and excitement of the police arrival.”

“You mean you think he could’ve been at Columbella all the time we were inside waiting for the police?” Her eyes widened and she pulled her sweater tighter around her body.

Good job, Roarke, scare the lady even more.

“I don’t know.” Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turned to the side and wedged his shoulder against the window. “I’m just guessing.”

“Oh, God.” Michelle spread her hands in front of her face. “I still have Amanda’s blood on my hands.”

She scrambled from the couch and ran into the kitchen. At the sink, she squeezed copious amounts of dishwashing liquid into her palm and rubbed her hands together so hard Colin expected sparks.

As the operation went on and on, Colin approached her from behind and peeked over her shoulder. Lady MacBeth-like, she continued to scour her hands under the hot water, silent tears streaming down her face and dripping off her chin.

Colin grabbed a dish towel, cranked off the water and gently clasped Michelle’s shoulders, turning her toward him. He wrapped the towel around her hands, pulling her close. Then he rested his chin on top of her soft, light brown hair.

“I’m sorry about your friend. I’m sorry you found her.”

She nodded beneath his chin and sniffled. “We hadn’t been friends that long. We went to high school together, but we really didn’t know each other until several years after we graduated. We became best friends pretty fast after that.”

“And you have your ten-year reunion this summer.”

“Yeah.” She brought the towel to her face and used it to wipe her nose. “I don’t feel much like going now.”

Colin patted her back awkwardly. Her warmth and the sweet scent of her hair made him want to take her in his arms, and in her condition she just might go there willingly.

“Sit down, Michelle.” He grabbed the handle of her refrigerator. “Do you want something to drink? Do you have any wine? Beer? Something to take the edge off?”

“I—I don’t drink.” She slid a glass from the dish drainer on the counter and filled it with tap water. Then she floated back to the couch and sank to the cushion.

“Lieutenant Trammell didn’t ask you many pertinent questions. I guess because this is a small town, and he figures he knows all the answers. That homicide detective will probably call you in for more questioning.” Colin dropped to the chair across from Michelle and hunched forward. “Did Amanda have any enemies? Marital problems?”

Michele took a gulp of water, and then cupped the glass between her hands. “Yeah, well, Clark Trammell already knows Amanda and Ryan are…were…separated. I’m sure he’s already told Detective Marsh and they’re questioning Ryan more thoroughly, but there’s no way he had anything to do with Amanda’s murder.”

“Why were they separated?”

“Ryan sent some suggestive emails to another woman.” She splayed her hands on her thighs and studied her long fingers. “The other woman lived in Colorado and I think Ryan was just flirting, but Amanda didn’t see it that way.”

Colin rubbed his knuckles along his jaw. “Did he ever meet this other woman, start an affair?”

“Oh, no.” Michelle shook her head and her silky hair spilled over one shoulder. “Ryan loves Amanda, but she took him for granted and I think he just needed a little validation from another woman. He had no intention of cheating.”

“Sounds like you were on Ryan’s side.”

“I tried not to take sides, but I think a couple should try to work things out, don’t you?” Michelle kept her eyes downcast, her dark lashes crescents on her cheeks.

A muscle ticked Colin’s jaw as he lifted one shoulder. Not if your fiancée cheats on you while you’re overseas serving your country.

“So maybe not the husband, but we know the killer didn’t do it for money. He didn’t steal her fancy car and didn’t snatch her purse.” Colin strolled back toward the window and parted the curtains. The coroner had left and now a tow truck had Amanda’s Mercedes latched behind it.

Michelle joined him at the window, still clutching her sweater around her tall, slender frame. “I can’t believe this is just some random killing. Not in Coral Cove.”

“I don’t believe it is random.”

Turning toward him, she tilted her head. “Why are you here investigating Tiffany Gunderson’s death? She died in an elevator shaft in a hotel in San Francisco. Shouldn’t that be a job for the SFPD?”

Colin took a deep breath and held it. Officially, the FBI had no idea he was here in Coral Cove investigating a murder. Should he tell Michelle that Tiffany hadn’t been the first Coral Cove High alumna to die a violent death? That Tiffany hadn’t been the first body found with a strange yet touching calling card? Should he tell her two, now three women from her graduating class all had their lives snuffed out in an instant?

He searched her wide, dark eyes, still glassy from shock and tears. Easing out a breath, he brushed his thumb across her damp cheek, dislodging a strand of hair. “Tiffany’s death involved some special circumstances. That’s why I’m looking into it.”

Her nostrils flared as she narrowed her eyes, no longer cloudy and unfocused. His vague explanation hadn’t fooled her one bit.

She tightened her jaw and then shrugged, returning her gaze to the formless shapes scurrying back and forth in the street. “You’re not at liberty to tell me anything, but I don’t believe for a minute Tiffany’s death was an accident. Not after tonight.”

Colin ran a hand across his mouth. He’d have to watch what he said in front of Michelle because right now she didn’t have to know she might be on this killer’s short list of victims.

She gasped, and her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “Did you see that?”

No, I was watching you.

While Michelle dug her nails into his flesh, he cupped his hand around his face and peered out the glass. “I don’t see anything except the cops out there wandering around.”

She tapped on the windowpane and whispered. “A light at Columbella.”

CHAPTER THREE

“I DON’T SEE ANYTHING.” Colin’s broad shoulder pressed against hers as he leaned forward to squint into the fog-shrouded night.

Could he feel her shivering? Would he realize it had as much to do with his masculine scent and the feel of him next to her as it did with the flickering light she’d seen at Columbella House?

She clenched her teeth and released her grip on Colin’s wrist. Amanda’s blood hadn’t even dried on the street and here she was getting giddy over a man’s touch. Maybe that email had it right: Like mother, like daughter?

Jerking away from the window, Michelle swiped her keys from the table and scooped up a flashlight from a basket by the door. “I’m going to check it out.”

“Are you crazy?” Colin grabbed her hand. “Someone just murdered your friend, and he’s still out there.”

“That’s right. Someone just murdered my friend, practically on my doorstep, and I’m not going to sit here and do nothing.” She wrestled from his grasp and jingled her house keys in her palm. “I won’t be walking over to Columbella House by myself, anyway. The cops and the county CSI guy are still out there.”

Now that she’d blurted out her brash statement, more from guilt than anything else, Michelle dragged her feet to the front door. She didn’t really want to cross the street to Columbella House. She didn’t want to go anywhere near that gloomy old Victorian, so out of place among the bungalows and beach cottages of Coral Cove.

Colin yanked his gun bag from the coffee table by its strap and hitched it around his waist. “If you saw a light at the house, I believe you. But the cops probably already canvassed that area. They might not be so anxious to cover that ground again.”

Michelle released a pent-up breath. Now she could save face and actually follow through with her bold plan. She’d feel a lot safer with Colin and his gun by her side.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged and stepped onto the porch.

The spotlight still illuminated the area where Amanda had parked her car, although the car itself had been towed. The two remaining Coral Cove officers and the crime scene investigator from the county looked like they were doing more talking than investigating. A murder like this in Coral Cove would tax the resources of the small-town cops. The P.D. would have to work with the county sheriffs and if Amanda’s murder had anything to do with Tiffany’s murder, they’d have to call in the FBI… Good thing they wouldn’t have to go far to find an agent.

Shoving his hands in the pockets of his windbreaker, Colin approached the two police officers crouching next to the dark stain on the asphalt. Michelle followed him but allowed his broad back to block her view of the crime scene.

“Are you guys finished out here?” Colin swept his arm across the damp crime scene tape hanging limply in the fog.

Jerry Donnelly, one of the Coral Cove P.D. officers answered, “Yeah, we’re done. Nobody else even heard Michelle’s scream.”

Colin faced the guy from the county. “Did you collect all the evidence?”

The guy patted the bag hanging from his shoulder. “Fingernails, hair, blood, a cigarette butt and assorted bits and pieces. Hopefully, we’ll get more from the body before the autopsy is performed.”

Michelle’s stomach rolled and she ground her teeth together.

Colin bent down and plucked something from the ground. “You missed something.”

The investigator snorted. “That’s a petal. The murder occurred outside on a street. I don’t know about you Fibbies, but we don’t collect every twig and every speck of dirt as evidence.”

“It’s a rose petal. It’s not a twig or a speck of dirt.”

The other man pointed to the rosebushes lining Michelle’s fence. “Yeah, it’s a rose petal. Just like all those other rose petals on those bushes.”

“It’s your case…for now.” Colin slipped the petal inside his pocket. “Michelle saw a light over at Columbella House. Did you guys already check over there, Officer Donnelly?”

Jerry straightened his shoulders and gave a brisk nod. “We already canvassed the yard. Nothing.”

The CSI investigator shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other. “I have to go to the police department to meet with Detective Marsh. You coming?”

Jerry brushed his hands together. “We’ll come with you. Michelle, are you going to be okay? You can come and stay at our place tonight.”

Michelle glanced at her watch and then shifted her gaze toward Columbella. Not much night left. “I’ll be fine. I have good, sturdy locks on my door and a phone by my bed.”

“We’ll send a patrol car by a few times before dawn.” Jerry turned to his partner, a wide-eyed new recruit, and jerked his thumb toward the patrol car.

Michelle watched as the fog gobbled up their taillights. “I guess they weren’t interested in another look at Columbella House.”

“Are you?” Colin raised his eyebrows in question.

“Sure.” Michelle licked her lips. “Are you and your gun going with me?”

“Absolutely.” Colin unzipped his gun bag and slid his Glock into his pocket. “Do you have that flashlight handy?”

Michelle flicked on the flashlight and waved it in front of her. They crossed the street together, and she clenched her hand at her side to keep from hooking on to Colin’s arm.

He unlatched the gate and pushed it open, the rusty hinges squeaking in protest. The abandoned house peered at them through windows streaked with dirt and grime.

With his hand in his pocket, Colin crept toward the sagging porch. He pointed down and Michelle followed with the flashlight, which illuminated steps of splintered wood. “Nobody’s been through this entrance for quite a while.”

“I didn’t see the light from inside the house. It was somewhere in the side yard.”

They shuffled through the dead leaves toward the side of the house, the shaky beam of the flashlight lighting the way.

Colin tugged at the gate leading to the backyard of the sprawling house. “It’s locked, Michelle. This is probably as far as the police got. And if you saw a light, it couldn’t have come from the backyard. You never would’ve seen a light from back there.”

Michelle rolled her stiff shoulders. “Maybe the light did come from the house.”

“If it did, I’m not up to breaking and entering.”

“Neither am I.” She slumped against the gate. “Maybe I imagined the light. Maybe it was just a reflection from the police lights on the street. Columbella House has been giving me the creeps for years.”

“It’s a blight on the town. I wish some member of the St. Regis family would either sell the place or raze it.”

“Were you still here when Kylie Grant’s mother hung herself from the balcony?” Michelle shivered and pushed off the cold chain link of the gate.

“No, I wasn’t. She’d copied a previous suicide. When Mia St. Regis’s sister, Marissa, took off before her wedding, some said she’d killed herself, too.”

“Yeah, but then both Mia and Marissa’s fiancé got those letters from Marissa explaining that she and Mia’s boyfriend had taken off together. I suppose the house is Mia’s now. Can’t blame her for not wanting to deal with it.” Michelle tugged at the sleeves of her sweater. “I felt sorry for her even though she’s not the type of woman who inspires pity. I guess Coral Cove Drive has seen its share of scandal.”

Colin wedged a finger beneath her chin. “You had it tough in high school when your mom ran off with that senior at Coral Cove High.”

Michelle blinked, afraid to meet the sympathy in his eyes. “I had it tough before that, since I was tall and skinny and wore glasses and braces.”

He pinched her chin and grinned. “It didn’t help that you were a bookworm and as smart as all get-out—a total bully magnet. I’m surprised you didn’t escape Coral Cove like the St. Regis twins did.”

“I had to take care of my dad. When Mom left with that boy, Dad collapsed.”

“Do the kids still think this place is haunted?”

“Not just the kids. In fact, it makes me uneasy just standing here even if you do have a gun in your pocket.” Michelle shifted away from Colin’s warm touch and the toe of her shoe lodged against a stepping stone buried beneath the mulch. She tripped and sprawled onto her hands and knees, the flashlight bouncing out of her hand.

Colin dropped beside her. “Are you all right?”

“I banged my knee on a cement stepping stone. I didn’t even see those before.” She sat back and rubbed her throbbing knee. You could dress up a klutz but she’d still be a klutz.

Leaning across her body, Colin reached for the flashlight and cursed.

“What’s wrong? Is it broken?”

He stepped across her and kneeled on the ground, one hand now grasping the flashlight and the other picking through the dirt and leaves. He cursed again, his body tensing.

“What did you find, Colin?” Michelle’s heart banged in her chest, her breath coming out in short spurts.

He extended his hand toward her, cupping several rose petals in his palm.

Michelle swallowed. He’d seemed unusually interested in a petal he’d picked up near Amanda’s body. What significance did a few rose petals have?

“They’re rose petals.” Her words sounded stupid hanging between them. “L-like the one at the crime scene?”

Colin jerked the beam from the flashlight across the tangled bushes bordering Columbella House. “Do you see any roses here, live ones?”

Michelle squinted into the darkness. “No, but I’m sure the Vincents have some. Dorothy Vincent is always giving me tips on mine. Couldn’t the wind have blown the petals over here? What’s with the petals?”

Colin hooked his arm beneath hers and pulled her up. “Let’s get out of here.”

Colin charged through the front yard and this time Michelle clung unabashedly to his arm until they were through the rusty front gate.

Opening his hand, Colin aimed the light at the delicate yellow petals. “Do the Vincents have yellow roses in their yard?”

“I think so.”

“And what about you? Are your roses yellow? The petal I found near the body was pink.”

“I have both pink and yellow. Do you think the killer left the petals near Amanda’s body? Then what? He ran across the street to Columbella House and showered more petals there?”

Michelle didn’t know a thing about murder investigations, but she was a mathematician and she knew logic. And this didn’t seem logical.

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