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nodded and turned for the back of the house. “Can do, boss man. Get s-some sh-shut-eye.”
    Chad laid on the couch that night prepared to jump up at the slightest noise, but all was quiet. He debated taking his leg off to let it breathe, then decided against it. Toward dawn, he finally let himself slip away.

Chapter Three

    L ora grimaced at the sun beaming in the window behind them, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Her face throbbed, and as she shifted she realized her hip did too. She hadn’t moved all night; that was why. She’d slept like the dead. Mercy sprawled like an angel beside her, sheets pushed away. Her long, blond eyelashes left little crescent moon shadows on her round cheeks, and her soft little mouth hung open as she breathed.
    Moving slowly, she brushed a finger down her daughter’s ivory cheek. The long restless day and semi-sleepless night had given her some perspective over the situation. Derek wasn’t going to stop trying to get Mercy. Neither was his mother. Unless something truly drastic happened, her ex was going to be an albatross around her neck for a long time to come.
    The thought made her want to cry.
    She forced herself out of bed, groaning. Every damn muscle in her body ached. Her head throbbed and her sprained arm pulsed with pain. Advil and coffee were at the top of her to-do list. Pausing at the bedroom door, she leaned her ear close but couldn’t hear anything.
    Was the investigator still here?
    His misguided guilt seemed genuine, so he probably was.
    She tiptoed out into the hallway, her heart pounding, straining to listen. She thought she might have heard cloth rustle in the living room, but she wasn’t sure. Padding down the hallway, sticking to the wall, she peered into the room.
    Morning sunlight shafted into the room, trying to chase away the darkness. The tall, brown haired investigator had sprawled on her couch, making it look tiny. His cowboy boots were still on, legs hanging over the arm, and he had a frown on his face, so he didn’t seem comfortable. She tamped down her concern. A few years ago, she’d have gone out of her way to make sure a guest in her home had everything they needed, but the fact that he was even in her house right now was as far as she was willing to go. Yes, he’d been hired to do a job. That didn’t mean it didn’t chafe.
    As she turned for the kitchen, she held her breath to move quietly.
    “Ma’am?”
    Lora screamed and jumped back from the monstrous form in the kitchen doorway, tripping over a pair of shoes as she backed away. Her feet tangled and she smacked against the wall, but miraculously kept her feet. She held up her injured hand as her left scrabbled for a weapon, knowing he was too close to her to get away.
    But the monster didn’t move.
    “Lora, hey, it’s okay.”
    Chad had lurched to his feet and now approached her slowly, hands held out, blinking sleep from his eyes. “This is Zeke Foster. He’s one of our investigators. My night relief.”
    Lora panted as her eyes flicked in the semi-darkness of the room. The shape in the doorway hadn’t moved. As she watched, his hands raised as well.
    Gulping air, she tried to ease her racing heart, but she’d been on a hair-trigger for too long. She leaned against the wall, quivering, and fought angry, frantic tears.
    “He got here after you fell asleep. I stayed last night to try to talk to you first, but I didn’t hear you come down the hallway. I’m sorry.”
    She shook her head. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “I just overreacted.”
    The investigator stepped closer and she fought not to tense.
    “I can’t be here twenty-four hours a day. Zeke will probably be my relief on most days.”
    The man in the kitchen doorway took one small step forward into the light and Lora had her second shock. His face was a map of scars and at first she had to wonder if it was a trick of the fickle light. But the longer she looked, the more clear he became, and the bigger he seemed.