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wheelchair arrived. Then, he could investigate things on his own. “Grab the card,” he ordered, “but try not to touch it more than we have. Pick it up by the corner. If we can’t figure anything out after talking to the nurse, we’ll have to call the cops.”
    Cassie looked around the room, finally going toward the drink machine along the back wall. “I think there should be some sandwich bags over here that they use for snacks.” She dug through the cabinets and drawers before giving a triumphant squeal and standing upright, a gallon-sized zippered bag in her hand.
    She opened it as she walked toward him, stopping at the table. Touching the very corner of the envelope the card came in, she dropped it inside the plastic bag, doing the same with the card before sealing both things inside. “That should preserve anything we didn’t already destroy.”
    Frankie nodded, sticking his hand out to take the bag without thinking about it.
    She hesitated, then carefully set it on his lap. “Let’s go find out what the nurses saw. I’m sure this is nothing. I’d rather not bother the police while they’re in the middle of a murder investigation unless we have to.”

Chapter Four
    C assie pushed Frankie from the therapy room and headed for the front desk of the rehab center. While the letter had her heart racing and Frankie’s news of a killer on the loose served to frighten her further, she thought she had an idea who was behind the flowers. The question was whether she should share that information with Frankie.
    For the first time in months, Frankie had stood up under his own power with no coaxing or encouragement from her. The few times she’d had him on his feet lately, he always seemed as if the pain was too much and she’d relented and let him sit. Maybe she was too emotionally entangled in his care now. Frankie obviously could stand, he just needed the right motivation. She’d let her feelings for him cloud her judgment, not pushing him as hard in his rehabilitation as she should have.
    The threatening letter had him moving and acting like a complete man again, someone who had a future to look forward to. If she told him her suspicions about who sent it, would it deflate his enthusiasm? Frankie worked as a firefighter before, and if Cassie remembered correctly, he came from a line of firemen. It was his nature to protect and rescue people in danger. This was the most alive she’d seen him since first becoming his therapist.
    “Cassie?” He tipped his head upward, looking at her as she pushed the chair. “Are you okay? Maybe we should go to the police first and let them investigate.”
    She blew out a heavy breath, slowing her pace. It looked like she’d have to tell him about her suspicions. Glancing around the hallway to make sure it was empty, she stopped walking and set the brake on Frankie’s chair, circling to the front and crouching in front of him. “I think I might know who did this. If I’m right, I can’t go to the cops with it.”
    He squinted at her, disbelief clear in the hard set of his jaw. “If you know, we should definitely call and report it. What kind of psycho do you know that would send a letter like that?”
    “I went on a date about three years ago with a doctor over at Sayle Regional when I worked there. He seemed nice, charming, attentive, and definitely not shy with his money.”
    “Everything a girl wants.” Frankie tilted his head and made a circle motion with his bad hand. “Keep going. I know there’s more to the story than that.”
    She hoped she was doing the right thing. Maybe if Frankie understood why she couldn’t go to the police, he’d still want to investigate and help her—which in the process would help him as well.
    “He was nice for a few weeks, but something always seemed off to me.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness and decided to end things. I figured he was a great guy, just not the guy meant for me, and convinced