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me in that way only mothers could.
    One of the uniformed officers called Kevin away. I watched him go for a second. I tried to ignore that ache in my chest. Despite my hectic schedule, I was actually grateful I was too busy to dwell on the end of my marriage. "He could have attacked me," Maria was saying, running her hands over her body as if checking for injuries, and looking like she enjoyed it.
    I held a pissy comment in check. She was right—she could have been hurt . . . or worse. Letting that thought simmer, I felt my anger slowly fade. Besides, it was impossible to stay mad at Maria. She had that way about her. "Why don't you pack a bag?" I suggested. "I can bring you over to your new house. You can't stay here tonight." She pouted. "All right."
    Inside, her condo looked like it was moving day. All the furniture had already been moved to the other house, and boxes, both full and empty, filled the living and dining rooms in neat stacks. Nothing looked disturbed. One of the French doors leading onto the back patio was ajar, the wood around the handle splintered. "Is that how he got in?" I asked.
    Maria nodded. "Kevin said it looked like he used a crowbar. I need to get someone to come fix it before I leave." She laughed, and there was a slightly hysterical edge to the sound. "Don't want anyone to break in."
    A yawn threatened to escape, and I clamped my lips closed. "You go pack. I'll call Kit and see if he can help us out."
    Tears brimmed along her eyelashes. "Thanks, Nina."
    "Hey, everything will be okay." I shook fake pom-poms. "Rah. Rah."
    There was a reason I never made Saint Valentine's cheerleading squad.
    She smiled at me, wiped her eyes, and headed for the stairs, looking a little lost and forlorn. I wasn't used to having our roles reversed. She'd always been the cheery one. Using my cell, I called Kit, who promised to be over in no time after a quick stop at the local home supply store. I poked around Maria's place as I called to check on Riley. He should have gotten home over an hour ago, and with his late night disappearing acts, I wanted to make sure he was where he was supposed to be.
    He answered on the third ring, sounding a little breathless. "H'lo?"
"Ry? You just getting in?"
    "Uh, yeah. Stopped at McDonald's after work."
    At least he'd eaten. My dinner with Ana had gone right out the window, and my stomach was starting to yell at me. "I'm going to be a little late," I told him.
    He didn't ask for details, and I didn't fill him in.
    "I'll probably be in bed, so keep it down," he said, a hint of teasing in his deepening voice.
    Squatting, I looked closer at Maria's damaged door. It was a little scary to think that a simple crowbar could make locks so useless. "Don't forget to lock the doors—use the dead bolts too—and set the alarm."
    Our neighborhood burglar hadn't been caught yet, and as I glanced around Maria's place, I wondered if maybe he was marking other territories.
    I said good-night to Riley and began snooping around. Cardboard boxes of various sizes lined the walls of her dining and living rooms. All but a few things remained in her kitchen cupboards and drawers. Just the basic necessities to get through life for the few days before the wedding. I moseyed my way into Nate and Maria's study, absently wondering what was taking her so long. How much could she possibly need for one night?
    I stopped short just inside the study's door. Boxes marked office had been sliced open and dumped onto the floor. Papers, file folders, pens, and other desk clutter covered the gleaming hardwood.
    I bent down, scooped up a pile of papers and leafed through them. Pages and pages of Maria's Phineus Frye letterhead were mixed in with Nate's Kalypso memos and reports. "He was looking for something," a voice said.
    I let out a small "eek" and jumped, my breath sharply lodging somewhere between my ribs and my collarbone. Kevin leaned against the doorway, arms folded, his triceps straining against his T-shirt. His