Crime and Passion. Marie Ferrarella

understand.”

      He didn’t have time to go over the particulars. There were things left to do. “Just leave it all to me.” He flashed her a smile. “Think of it as your tax dollars at work.”

      She dropped her hand from his wrist. Like an arrow with a homing device, the smile he’d flashed at her had gone right through her. She doubted that he knew the effect he still had on her, and there was no way in hell she was ever going to let him even guess. But having him in charge of the situation did make her feel better.

      “Why don’t you go and throw a few things together for you and the boy? Take some of his favorite toys so he doesn’t feel so uprooted,” he added.

      “I’m whisking him out of his bed in the middle of the night. How can’t he feel uprooted?” she challenged. She stared at the drawing he’d taken down from her window. Clay was right, even if this was just a warning, it had spooked her. And it could only escalate from here.

      “Because you’re whisking him away to another home. Trust me, he won’t be traumatized. My father’s very good with kids.”

      “Your father?”

      “I thought you and the boy could stay with him. Dad’s good with kids,” he repeated before he turned away to call his brother.

      Within a few minutes he had everything arranged.

      “Is this really necessary?”

      Ilene left the question open to anyone who wanted to answer it. Clay had just admitted two people into her house via the patio door. From what she could ascertain, the man and woman had entered via the backyard. Which meant that they had to climb over the fence, coming from one of her neighbor’s yards. How could they have done that without being detected?

      The same way whoever had left that warning had, she told herself. He’d been in her backyard before she’d heard him.

      Nothing seemed safe anymore.

      “This is all so cloak-and-dagger,” she protested when no one answered her question.

      The woman was the first to speak. Her eyes were kind and her smile looked as if it had been lifted directly from Clay’s face.

      “A lot more cloak, a lot less dagger,” she laughed. Extending her hand, she took Ilene’s in hers. “Hi, I’m Teri. Clay and I are twins,” she said in response to the quizzical look creasing Ilene’s brow. Then winked. “But I’m the pretty one.”