“Then how was the kid paying for school?”

“Some cult he belonged to was footing the bill.” At Camry’s look of confusion, Megan tossed her hands up. “See what I mean? Wayne made it all up.”

“But why? If he doesn’t hunt runaways, then why was he in Canada on your study?”

“Who knows and who cares? I showed him the door the moment I realized what he was doing.”

“So what was he doing?” Cam asked. “Did he tell you why he’s here?”

Megan flushed. “I didn’t give him the chance,” she admitted. “I kicked him out before dinner was over.”

Camry gaped at her. “But that was the whole point of this evening! He was supposed to beg you to take him back, and you were supposed to throw his offer in his face. Come on,” she said, grabbing Megan’s hand and walking to the door.

Megan took the coat she shoved at her. “Where are we going?”

“To town. Let’s go see what your boyfriend is doing.”

“Are you nuts?” Megan said, hanging her coat back on the peg. “Jack Stone is not my boyfriend, and we are not chasing after him.”

“Okay,” Cam said, handing her back her coat. “Then we’ll go check on Winter’s shop, just to make sure nobody broke into it.”

“You need to go back to work, Cam,” Megan muttered as her sister led her outside. “Before I strangle you.”

“Oh, come on, loosen up,” Camry said as she opened the driver’s door. “When was the last time we snuck out of the house on an adventure together?”

“It’s not sneaking out if I own the house.” Megan climbed in the passenger seat and fastened her seat belt. “And spying on an ex-boyfriend is not an adventure. What if we mess up his police work?”

“We’ll park on the edge of town and sneak down to Winter’s fart gallery on foot. We’ll watch from inside, out of the way.”

“Winter will strangle you if she ever hears you refer to her shop as the fart gallery. She was not amused by that prank.”

Camry started the car and headed toward town. “So what are you going to do if Jack stays on as our police chief?” she asked. “You are carrying his child.”

“If he stays, and if he wants to be part of my baby’s life, then we’ll come up with some sort of arrangement.”

“He’ll want visitation rights, Meg. Are you willing to let him take your baby for the day?”

Megan looked down at her belly. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there, if it comes to that. But once he realizes it’s over between us, he’ll give up and leave.”

Camry reached over and patted Megan’s knee. “And if he doesn’t, we’ll just have Winter turn him into a toad.”

Being careful not to let his feet crunch on the snow, Jack crept along the edge of the buildings on the lake side of Main Street, using the shadows to conceal his progress. He slowly made his way toward the bakery at the end of the street, his ears tuned to sounds of activity and his eyes alert for movement. He was just passing Dolan’s Outfitter Store when a muffled crash came from inside.

He pressed against the side of the building, his eyes locked on the slightly ajar door as he pulled his billy club from his belt. Another crash sounded, followed by an angry growl of surprise, then an even louder crash, as if a shelf of heavy pots and pans had been cleaned off in one swipe.

Dammit, the little bastards were trashing the place.

Jack scanned the lakefront park to make sure no one else was lurking about, then quietly walked up the steps and used his billy club to push open the broken door—only to rear back from the stench.

Their stinky doughnut thief was at it again.

Another violent crash came from inside, sounding as if an entire shelving unit fell over. Jack froze with his foot on the threshold when a deep, wounded scream unlike anything he’d ever heard before reverberated off the interior walls. The entire building began to shake as whatever had made that sound started toward him at a run.

Jack turned to scramble down the steps just as it burst through the door. Realizing he was about to be trampled, he dived to the side and rolled out of the way. He immediately started to rise, but froze when a huge, dark, screaming shadow went tearing past him toward the lake.

What the hell?

Jack jumped up to get a better look but was suddenly grabbed from behind by a large arm of solid muscle wrapping around his throat. He lashed back with his billy club, making his attacker grunt and the arm around his neck tighten. He reared up to butt the guy in the head, but the man simply fell backward to the ground, pulling Jack with him. Powerful legs wrapped around his thighs, effectively keeping him still long enough for his attacker to squeeze the breath right out of him.

As the world went black, Jack’s last thought was that little bastards was a misnomer—because the apparition flying out over the lake had to be seven feet tall, and the guy choking him to death weighed at least two hundred pounds.

Jack woke to whispered conversation but didn’t open his eyes when he realized he not only knew one of the speakers, but that he was equally familiar with the lap his head was resting on—though it was a little rounder than the last time he’d been in this position. Since he no longer seemed to be in imminent danger, he decided to play possum and learn what in hell all these people were doing at the scene of his crime. Besides, the concern in Megan’s voice gave him hope.

“I don’t know why you insisted we bring him to the gallery, Robbie. We need to take him to Aunt Libby, so she can check him over,” Megan whispered urgently, feeling Jack’s head for lumps. “He should be awake by now. He might have a concussion.”

“He’s only had the wind knocked out of him,” said a rich-timbered voice that Jack recognized as Robbie MacBain’s. “He’ll come around soon.”

A feminine snort sounded nearby. “He really is a nerd, isn’t he?” a familiar voice said far too cheerily. “He didn’t put up much of a fight when that guy attacked him, and now I see what you mean about his size, Meg. Robbie tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of grain.”

So the pie-hurling sister was here, too. Wonderful.

Megan gently patted his face. “Come on, Wayne, wake up,” she petitioned, patting a bit harder.

“Wayne?” Robbie repeated, his tone suspicious.

“Wayne Ferris,” Camry chirped, again much too cheerily. “The bastard who broke Megan’s heart. Only now he’s calling himself Jack Stone and pretending to be our chief of police.”

Megan clutched him protectively against her. By God, she did still love him. Jack slit open his eyes and saw MacBain looking at Megan, obviously not pleased.

“Jack Stone is Wayne Ferris? Your biologist from Canada?” the towering Scot asked.

“Sort of,” Megan said. “But he’s not a biologist, and he’s not mine anymore.”

Camry snorted again. “You’re acting like he’s still yours.”

Damn skippy, he was hers. And the protruding belly he was nestled against proved it.

“So who the hell is he?” Robbie asked impatiently.

“He told me his real name is Jack Stone, that he hunts down runaway kids, and that he was posing as a biologist because he was after one of the students on the study,” Megan explained.

“But Meg decided that’s probably a lie,” Camry added. “And I’m beginning to agree with her. He’s not a very competent hunter, is he? He can’t even catch a bunch of brats.”

Not liking the direction the conversation was taking, Jack was about to fake a miraculous recovery when MacBain said, “That was no kid who brought him down. The man was my size.”

“Did you recognize him?” Megan asked, her hand lightly rubbing Jack’s chest, making him feel warm and fuzzy and a little bit dizzy.

“No, he ran into the woods when I shouted. Who else knows that Stone is Wayne Ferris?”

“Just Cam and Winter, and now you.”

“You haven’t told Greylen?”

Megan cuddled Jack closer. “I’m afraid of what Daddy might do.”