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twisted. Energy stirred inside. A faint zap crackled between them. She puzzled on it as he fell into step behind Stan. The two appeared opposites. Stan had wizened into a small gnome of a man, while the larger man resonated health and purpose.

    Stan gave her a quick hug. "I called an old friend for help. This is Grant Summers."

    Kali welcomed them both inside. She'd known Stan a long time and couldn't remember hearing the name before. Nudging the door shut, she led the way through to the deck. "Can I get anyone coffee? It's fresh."

    "Always, thanks." Stan beamed.

    Grant shook his head. As she walked into the kitchen to find another mug, she glanced back. Grant watched her, an odd look on his face. Kali flushed. She'd seen him before, yet more than that, her energy knew him. Did he sense it too? From where? When? Her stomach pulsed. Which was crazy - she didn't knowhim, yet she knew him.

    The two men had taken seats at the outside table. "Here you go." Kali placed the mug in Stan's waiting hand. "Careful, it's hot."

    "Thanks, Kali."

    "No problem. I was ready for another cup myself." She motioned to the letter on the table at Stan's side where she’d placed it earlier. "There it is."

    Stan reached for it, when Grant interrupted, "Read without touching it - just in case."

    Glancing over at Kali apologetically, Stan read the letter aloud.

    When he stopped, Kali spoke, her tone wry. "It's covered in my fingerprints. Honestly, I never considered that issue."

    Grant moved over to study the envelope beside the letter. "Is this the envelope it came in?"

    "Yes. It has no markings either."

    He gave a short nod, a muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched like he had a twitch.

    Under lowered lashes, she studied his lean face and narrowed gaze. Jet black hair matched by imposing brows, squared high cheek bones led to a chin that said capable and strong-minded. This was not someone to cross. So still, so stern, she couldn't read him. And if she'd seen him before, surely she'd have remembered that air about him.

    Yet his energy synced with hers. She didn't really know what that meant. Her energy and Stan's were comfy together. She'd always figured it was because he'd treated her as the daughter he'd never had, giving her the opening to treat him as the father she'd lost.

    Grant's energy was different. Warmer. Hot. Sexual, maybe. Except it was more than that - almost an instinctive knowing. She couldn't really explain of what or how. She'd never seen this with anyone else.

    He glanced up and his deep brown eyes locked onto hers. Time stopped. Energy leapt, pulsed between them. She forgot to breathe.

    "Is there something wrong?"

    She blinked. Heat washed over her neck and face. "Oh no, sorry. I didn't mean to stare. I thought I recognized you from somewhere." Stan looked over at her curiously. Kali averted her face and moved to the red cedar railing where she took several bracing gulps of air. She was an idiot.

    The men's conversation droned on in the background, helping her to refocus on the more important issue - the letter.

    Still, why had Stan brought Grant here? She spun around to study the two men. Her narrowed gaze logged the inner strength and confident air of the bigger man, then remembered his comments on fingerprints.

    "You're a Fed."

    Stan and Grant both stared at her.

    "What makes you think I'm FBI?" Grant asked, studying her face.

    She snorted but managed to meet his gaze calmly. "Everything. It's written all over you."

    Stan jumped in. "You're right. He is. After we spoke, I called him to get his take on this. We rarely get a chance to visit, so I suggested he come with me to see the letter. He's not here in any official capacity."

    Pursing her lips, she leaned against the railing, her gaze traveling between the two of them. "So, what do you think?"

    Glancing from the letter to her, he gave a small shrug. "Definitely personal. This could be serious - or it could be a prank."

    Kali widened her gaze.