She got up, pulled off her boots, and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Looking out the window, she saw her next-door neighbor striding across her back lawn. Knowing he’d be on his way to the back door, she went to greet him. She realized she hadn’t turned on the alarm the night before.

Don Holmes knocked a moment later, rattling the blinds, a manic grin spread across his features. To say Don was more of a morning person than she was would be an exercise in understatement. She opened the door, prepared herself for the torrent she knew was coming.

“Morning, Don. How are you?”

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“I’m okay, Taylor. Beautiful morning, isn’t it? Just wanted to let you know, you had a dead rabbit in the backyard, I took care of it. Someone had killed it, then put a flowerpot over it. Crazy. The dogs were barking at it, so I cleaned everything up, disposed of the carcass. You know it had a wire across its neck? How do you think that happened? Probably some kids playing back in the woods. Anyway, just wanted you to know. I’m in a bit of a rush, need to get to work. Have a good day!”

And he was gone. Her neighbors were very nice, but sometimes a little nutty. Well, that explained that. Getting forensics off a rabbit carcass was a long shot anyway. At least now she knew she hadn’t imagined the whole thing.

She went upstairs to shower. Jeans, cowboy boots and a black T-shirt on, she came back to the kitchen, strapped her weapon to her belt, made a cup of tea. Don should be gone by now. She decided to brave the morning outdoors and drink it on the deck. She took the phone with her. She needed to know what had happened with Baldwin while she slept her life away. She knew they needed to clear the air.

Sitting in her favorite Adirondack chair, she returned Don’s wave—he was pulling out of his garage. She had all the privacy she’d need.

Baldwin answered on the first ring.

“Good morning,” she said, wanting something neutral, not sure how it was going to go.

“Hi.” He was short, and said nothing further.

“You can’t seriously still be mad at me?”

“Who says I’m mad?” he said.

“You sound pretty pissy. It’s not like I asked for this.”

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She heard him sigh. “Truce, okay? I reacted badly. I wanted to rush to your aid, and I couldn’t. And I’m not used to hearing your snappy side.”

She thought about that for a moment. He’d wanted to come to her, to help. He was right, she had been snappy. Though she still felt justified in that.

“All right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“What about hanging up on me? Are you sorry for that?”

She squirmed. Being repentant was not in her nature. “Yes. I was being childish. Fair enough?”

He was quiet for a second, and she knew she’d been forgiven. “Fair enough. Why do you sound so chipper, anyway?”

“You’ll never believe this. I just woke up. I completely crashed last night. All this shit aside, I feel great.”

“Maybe we should invest in some sleeping pills, get you rested like this more often.” He was teasing her, and her mood lightened. Everything would be okay.

“Don the motormouth was over here…” She trailed off. She hadn’t told Baldwin about the rabbit, or the stalking, or the overwhelming creepiness she’d felt for the past few days. Time to change the subject. She took a sip of tea. “So, any progress on your end?”

“Yes, actually. We—”

She didn’t hear him. Over top of the railing, she saw a man standing in the forest that edged the back of their property. Her heart skipped two beats, then came back with a vengeance, showering her body with adrenaline. Her vision became pinpoint, every detail stood out. She knew immediately, without a doubt. It was him. 250

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The man who left the rabbit, who’d been calling, who stalked her dreams. He saw her looking at him and smiled, then turned and disappeared into the woods. She looked wildly to the east. Don was long gone, disappeared out of his drive into the neighborhood, his garage door just finishing closing behind him. She was alone. And either hallucinating or in danger.

“Baldwin, I…I need to call you back.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Obviously she hadn’t disguised her concern when she spoke—she could hear the alarm in his voice.

“It’s nothing. I’ve got some wacko hanging around, making obscene phone calls, that kind of crap. I’m pretty sure he just came to the edge of the lawn, stared right at me. I’m going to—”

“Are you armed?”

Baldwin sounded distant, a voice she didn’t recognize, and the note of menace sent a chill down her spine. She froze, then slipped her hand to her waist, unlocking the flap to her holster and unsheathing her Glock. She palmed the gun and set her finger along the trigger.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Listen to me very carefully. I want you to go inside the house, hit the alarm, then get on your cell phone and call for backup. Do not hang up the phone, Taylor, do you understand me?”

She didn’t argue. Stepping inside, she locked the door behind her, went to the panel in the kitchen and pressed the button that would send a silent alarm to the security monitoring system. The call would let them know that she was in imminent danger, needed cops rolling her way immediately with lights and sirens off. Judas Kiss

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She’d never had cause to use it before, simply pushing the button made the hair raise on the back of her neck. When she and Baldwin had the system put in, he’d insisted on the feature. She wondered now if this was the reason why. He knew something.

“Baldwin. I’ve tripped the silent alarm. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I can’t, not entirely. This person you saw, describe him to me.”

“Hey. Tell me what is going on.”

“Taylor, please, I’m asking you to trust me. Just tell me what he looked like.”

Taylor conjured the man, feeling her pulse race as he reappeared in her mind’s eye.

“Tall, at least six-two. Brown hair, longish, falling over his right eye. Tan slacks, a cream sweater under a blue windbreaker. I couldn’t see any more than that.”

“If I faxed you a picture, could you ID him?”

“You know who this is? What the hell?”

“Just…go grab this fax. I’m sending it now. I think I might know who it is. And if it’s him, you’re in danger.”

“I can take care of myself, Baldwin. Unless he can stop bullets—”

“Not from him. No one is safe from him, gun or no. Just go look at the fax, Taylor.”

His voice was strained and coupled with a note she’d never heard before. Fear. It scared her. She climbed the stairs two at a time and went into Baldwin’s office on the second floor. The paper was printing out of the fax machine. She picked it up and glanced at it.

“Yes, Baldwin. It’s the same guy.”

“Oh, God.” Baldwin was breathing heavily into the phone. “Where the hell are the cops?”

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“Uh, babe? I am a cop, unless you forgot.” Her doorbell rang. “Hear that? They’re here.”

“Check before you open the door.” She started down the stairs, listening to Baldwin screaming at someone in the background. Wow, she’d never heard him get this rattled before. This character must be quite the creep. The doorbell rang again, and she saw movement through the glass insert. She reached for the knob. It felt slightly hot, but she knew that was her imagination. She turned the lock and swung open the door. The vision before her looked like something out of the apocalypse. Surreal. B-movie cinematic. Two burly men, one blond, one redhead, both crumpled in a bloody pool at the top of her steps. She could see an early-model generic gray Ford Taurus parked on the street in front of the house, knew they were the undercover unit the alarm company had sent. Their throats gaped at her, slit wide from a sharp blade. The redhead was still alive, barely. She could see him mouthing the word sorry over and over, his eyes blank, emptying. His mouth stopped moving as she watched.