“Strange guy.” Zack sipped his beer. “You see him up here, you think he’s a hillbilly, right? But he’s a salesman during the week. Pharmaceuticals. He walks naked in the woods, glares at everyone he meets, then takes off to the city and pushes his company’s pills on anyone who’ll listen. It’s no wonder his wife left him.”
“Was she the woman I used to hear shouting in Spanish?”
“Portuguese. Her name’s Vivianne. Meliana knew her. She was half English, half Brazilian. They watched Wheel of Fortune sometimes over at Tim’s place when Mel came up for the weekend. She took off about a year ago.”
“Back to Brazil?”
“Miami, I heard. Tim doesn’t talk about her, and most of us are too weirded out by the guy to press. Man, I tell you, I like it here, but I won’t be sorry to lose this place. Small-town dynamics and all. You’re lucky you’re FBI. People hesitate before poking their nose into a federal agent’s business.” Zack regarded his watch. “Ten-thirty. If I want out, I’d better hit the books.”
“Are you on duty tomorrow?”
“Four hours’ worth. Phil and I are pulling part-time shifts right now. Sheriff Frank got back from his Shriner’s convention in Gary today. I’ll catch you later, Johnny. Keep an eye out for Tim.”
Just what he needed, Johnny reflected, a nudist neighbor who liked to walk in the woods. A man who no longer lived with his wife. A guy with two different and distinct sides to his personality.
Disgusted with himself, Johnny got off the sofa and made a circle of the room. He shouldn’t be here. He’d given in to a moment of panic and flown. He could handle city life—he’d done it for years. Meliana had urged him to go, he’d felt the pressure building in his head, he’d caved and fled. What a wuss he’d turned into.
He gnawed on the side of his lip, glanced at his jacket, then released a breath and snatched it off the hook. Keys. Where? He searched the room twice, felt his pockets. There was nothing except an old shopping list inside.
He checked the top of the fridge, then his computer desk. He had e-mail, he noticed and gave the mouse a tap.
It wouldn’t be Mel. She preferred the phone. And his supervisors in Chicago weren’t likely to…
The thought dried up, simply vanished when the message appeared on screen. His blood turned to ice as he read it.
MELIANA’S MINE.
YOU TOUCH HER, YOU DIE.
MELIANA WAS UPSTAIRS in her home office, reviewing the file of a patient scheduled for surgery the next day, when she heard the commotion outside. Her brows went up as she checked her desk clock. Twelve minutes past midnight?
The men’s voices grew louder. She recognized them, and for a moment rolled closer to the window to listen.
“Fat lot of help you’ve been, Grand. You hang around for less than a day, then rush back up to your lakeside retreat so you can bury your head in the sand. If that’s your plan of action, you should stay there and leave the dirty work to those of us who can handle it. Man, do you think about anyone but yourself these days? Some creep waltzes in here, plants a flower in your ex’s lingerie drawer and steals some of her stuff. The cops shrug their shoulders, you take off and, meanwhile, some sicko’s running around with only his crazy brain cells functioning. It’s depraved.”
“Done yet?” Johnny asked when he ran out of breath. Meliana recognized the tone. She closed her eyes as she heard Chris’s muffled “Oomph.”
However, knowing Chris as she did, she imagined he’d given Johnny a hard shove or two to punctuate his earlier points.
No matter what he’d been through, Johnny wouldn’t use his fists unless he was pushed right to the wall. In the case of Chris Blackburn, that wall might be mere inches from Johnny’s back, but he still wouldn’t have precipitated a physical fight.
Shannon reached the front door ahead of her. Lokie, who’d been returned to her that evening, lagged behind.
“Coward,” she accused, and gave the dog’s head a scratch.
Lokie barked and sniffed her hand for a treat as she opened the door.
“Who do you think you are?” Chris demanded, red faced.
He was broader than Johnny and taller by about three inches, yet somehow Johnny’s presence always managed to dwarf him. Still, Chris outweighed Johnny by a good forty pounds. In an all-out fight, that could present a problem.
Motioning for the dogs to stay back, Meliana leaned on the doorjamb and regarded the pair of them.
“This is my house, and you’re trespassing.” Johnny pitched his voice lower than Chris. He wouldn’t shout unless it was absolutely necessary. “Go home, Blackburn.”
Chris responded by shoving him again. “This is Mel’s house. You moved out, remember? She lives here, I live two doors down and you have no business being here.”
Meliana caught the gleam in Johnny’s dark eyes and cleared her throat. “Don’t like to spoil your fun, guys, but you’re making a lot of noise for this time of night.”
“Andy wears earplugs.” Chris shot Johnny a hostile look. “He’s the only neighbor within range, and anyone in the park at this time of night doesn’t care what we’re doing.”
“I care.”
“Yeah, well, I caught your ex skulking in the bushes.”
“He’s not my ex,” Meliana reminded him. “Johnny has every right to be here, Chris.”
Johnny rested his butt on the iron rail. “Nice try, though. Now tell her what you were doing.”
Chris’s fingers twitched. “I was checking the place for perverts.”
“By sitting in the backyard and staring up at her bedroom window? He was waiting for you to go to bed, Mel,” Johnny said with contempt.
Meliana hooked his arm and drew him toward the door. “You’re like two kids fighting over a toy. Thanks for the thought, Chris, but I’m fine. You can take off.”
The look he sent Johnny smoldered. “I’ll hear if she screams.”
Meliana held fast to Johnny’s arm while Chris stalked away. “Let it go, okay? You copped an assignment he wanted. He resents you for it. Maybe it even scares him a little, seeing how it affected you. He could have been the one who almost got swept under. The outcome might have been worse if it had.”
“Blackburn’s got a granite skull. He’d have come out of it just fine.”
“Now you’re flattering him?” Meliana urged the dogs inside and closed the door. “This balled-fist stuff you guys do totally baffles me. Are you friends or not?”
“Not. One guy wants another guy’s wife, he’s no friend.”
“Remove me from the picture. Closer then?”
“Unlikely.” Johnny scowled. “Maybe. I don’t know. Are you all right?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No more roses?”
Guilt and a trace of renewed fear trickled in, replacing amusement. “Not so far.” She rubbed her palm on the leg of her jeans. “Do you want coffee?”
He hesitated. “You were working, weren’t you?”
“Homework for an op tomorrow. I’m clear on the details. Why did you come back?”
“Because I felt like a wimp for leaving.”
“You plowed a fist into Chris Blackburn’s stomach. I wouldn’t call that wimpy.”
In