“I don’t know,” she lied. “I’m on leave from work-” When he raised a speculative eyebrow, she explained, “I was wounded in the line of duty and won’t be going back to active duty for another month. As I said, I’m on leave and Kristen and Lindsay wanted me to come to the reunion, and Uncle Charlie and Aunt Laraine insisted I stay-”

“Cut the crap,” he said. “This is Dean, remember. You can’t lie to me. You couldn’t when we were kids and you still can’t.”

“What I remember when we were kids and teenagers is your tormenting me to death.”

He leaned forward, just enough to put them face-to-face, less than a foot separating them. “Ever ask yourself why I picked on you the way I did?”

“Because we couldn’t stand each other. You were such a little shit. Pulling my hair, stealing my purse, calling me names, laughing at me, making fun of me for having a crush on Jake.”

“You were too good for a guy like Jake,” Dean said as he got up off the desk. “Want some coffee before I give you a tour and we find you an empty desk somewhere?”

“Coffee’s fine.” She followed behind Dean, the act reminiscent of when they’d been preteens and had lived next door to each other. Even then she’d wanted to do everything the boys did and hated being told she couldn’t do something because “you’re just a girl.” How many times had she heard Dean say those fighting words?

He stopped at the coffeemaker, poured the strong dark brew into two disposable cups, and handed one to her. “Black okay?”

She nodded. “What did you mean when you said I was too good for Jake?” As she recalled, Dean and Jake had been buddies.

“There was a lot more to Jake Marcott than you knew. He had a dark side, believe me.”

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead?”

“You aren’t still hung up on Jake, are you?”

Rachel took a sip of coffee. God, it was awful. Way too strong. And bitter. “Jake hasn’t been a blip on my radar for most of the past twenty years. Do I remember him? Yes. Do I occasionally think of him? Yes. Do I remember what it felt like to have a major teenage crush on him? Of course I do. But there was never anything more than friendship between Jake and me. And there have been several men in my life since then, including a former husband.”

“Divorced?”

“Yeah.”

“Me, too.”

“Kids?” she asked.

“Nope. But we did fight for custody of Brighton, our cocker spaniel. She won custody.”

When he grinned, Rachel’s stomach flip-flopped. God, what was wrong with her? Why was she reacting this way? For pity’s sake, this was Dean. Dean McMichaels.

“What about you?” he asked. “Got any little rug rats?”

“No children.” I lost a baby four months into my pregnancy. Six years ago.

“Guess that means we’re both footloose and fancy free.”

“I guess it does.”

“How about dinner tonight?”

“What?” Her eyes widened in absolute shock. Had Dean McMichaels just asked her for a date?

“I’m not a guy who wastes time with subtleties,” he told her. “I’ve been divorced four years, been through two semi-serious relationships since then, and have been free as a bird for the past six months. Unless you’ve got a jealous boyfriend back home in Alabama, I’m putting my hat in the ring.”

She stared at him, still in a state of shock, still not quite comprehending that this drop-dead gorgeous police detective who was putting the moves on her was Dean McMichaels. “Dinner, huh? Okay.” Why not? He was right-they were both footloose and fancy free. And it wasn’t as if she had to worry about the thirty-eight-year-old Dean pulling her hair, teasing her unmercifully, or telling her that she couldn’t play with the boys.

“You’re staying with the chief and Mrs. Young, right?”

Rachel nodded.

“I’ll pick you up at seven this evening.”

His grin widened, showing off his perfect white teeth.

“Seven’s fine.” She swallowed hard, wondering if she’d lost her mind. The last thing she had expected when showing up with Charlie this morning was finding out Dean McMichaels was now a detective with the Portland Police Bureau. And right up there running a close second of unexpected happenings was agreeing to go out on a date with him. “About the records on the Marcott murder case…”

“Are you going to come clean and tell me why you’re really going through the records of the Cupid Killer cold case file?”

“Maybe. When we get better acquainted and I know I can trust you.”

Kristen Delmonico couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. A few months ago, she would have thought herself paranoid, but not now. Not since someone had invaded her privacy, forcing her to leave her own home and flee into the arms of her almost-ex-husband. A great deal had changed since she and their daughter Lissa had moved in with Ross, the least of which was the impending divorce. After admitting that they still loved each other, she and Ross had agreed to give their marriage a second chance. So far, so good. Ross showered her with attention and had become a diligent father, keeping close tabs on their only offspring. The unseen, unknown stalker who had been plaguing Kristen for a couple of months now had brought out all the protective instincts in Ross, and she had to admit that she didn’t mind having a big, strong man around, no matter how independent and self-reliant she had always been.

No one is going to attack you in the middle of the day at a downtown restaurant. It’s broad daylight. There are dozens of people surrounding you.

Yeah, well, there had been dozens of people surrounding Aurora when she’d fallen beneath a subway train in New York City. You didn’t have to be alone in your home, the way Haylie had been, to become a murder victim.

A homeless man robbed and killed Haylie. Aurora accidentally fell into the path of a subway train.

Kristen hoped that if she told herself often enough, she would eventually begin to believe it. There was no lunatic methodically killing members of their old high-school gang, the bevy of little planets that had circled around the sun god, Jake Marcott.

Then what about the photos slashed with red?

Stop thinking crazy thoughts like that, she told herself. Unless someone followed you from your office, no one knows where you are or who you’re meeting.

Maybe some guy at the bar was looking at her or maybe someone at a nearby table thought they knew her and was staring at her. Any number of reasonable explanations came to mind as to why she felt she was being watched.

“Kris?” A female voice with just a hint of a Southern accent called her name.

She looked up to see Rachel Alsace walking toward her. She would have recognized Rach anywhere, anytime, and yet she was different. Not just older. There was a confident swagger to Rachel’s walk. A chin held high, shoulders back, I-am-a-force-to-be-reckoned-with attitude. Rachel had always been a bit of a tomboy, dressing casually, keeping her blond hair short, not wearing very much make-up or jewelry. This new and improved version still had short hair, but with soft curls that framed her face, and her make-up flattered her fair skin. A pair of small, fat gold hoops shimmered against her earlobes.

“Rachel.” Kristen shot up quickly and grabbed her friend’s hands. “Girl, you look fabulous.” She’d never have dreamed Rachel would turn out to be such a looker.

Rachel hugged Kristen, then the two sat down facing each other at the small table. “You haven’t changed a bit, Kris. You’re still as pretty as you were twenty years ago.”

“Flattery will get you the best meal in this place. The Serrano ham is to die for. I usually get a sampling of several of their specialities. Andina’s has scrumptious stuffed yucca. You’ve got to try it. I went ahead and ordered. I hope that’s okay. “

“Yes, of course, that’s fine with me.” Rachel stared at her. “It really is so good to see you again.”