Targeted. Lori L. Harris

a lot of things, including isolation, that he didn’t want to. Perhaps that was why he’d impulsively asked Katie Carroll out.

      “How did you find out about that?”

      “I heard it from one of the deputies who heard it from one of Katie’s coworkers.”

      Katie waited tables at Alligator Café where he had breakfast most mornings. She had a quick smile, but he’d recently learned that she wasn’t quite the open book that she wanted people to believe she was. In addition to waiting tables, she was a well-known Miami artist.

      Jack lowered his weapon. “Of course, with the way you’ve been watching her all these weeks, it doesn’t really come as a surprise.”

      “It isn’t really a date,” Alec said.

      Jack grinned. “If you ask a woman out and it involves food, it’s a date.”

      “Doesn’t matter what you call it because my flight leaves at nine thirty tonight, so I have to cancel.”

      The smile fading, Jack placed the gun on the rest again. “A morning flight wouldn’t have done just as well? Hell, even one a few hours later tonight?”

      “It’s just pizza and conversation. She’s new in town. I’m new in town. No big deal.” Alec wondered why he felt compelled to tell his brother anything. Next time he’d just leave a message on his voice mail.

      “Wrong. It’s the first time you’ve made any attempt to join the living.” Jack’s mouth flattened. “I was happy for you. You were actually going to share the twentieth of the month with a live woman instead of a dead one.”

      Controlling his irritation this time wasn’t nearly as easy, but Alec managed.

      When he remained silent, Jack’s expression turned more troubled. “I’m sorry if that sounds cruel or cold. I don’t mean it that way. You know how I felt about Jill. But the interview’s not until tomorrow. Change your flight. Go out with Katie tonight. Get on with your life.”

      Alec took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Let’s not do this, okay?”

      Turning away, he headed for the door, feeling dissatisfied. Not just with his brother and their relationship, but with everything. He’d made a career out of hunting down the worst kind of men. Human predators that killed for the sheer sport of it. But when it came to tracking down his own wife’s killer, he couldn’t get the job done. He’d failed Jill while she was alive. And he was failing her now.

      “Jill loved you, Alec. She’d want you to move on.”

      Alec paused and looked back. “Let’s not pretend we have any inkling what the other one needs. Maybe if you had been where I’ve been…”

      “You’ve forgotten where I’ve been, haven’t you?” Jack immediately went back to firing his weapon. As if Alec was already gone.

      Jack had spent five years undercover in Atlanta. A hard life where you were cut off from everything and everyone. It was their single shared characteristic. Their inability to achieve any kind of real intimacy with another human being. Alec recognized it in himself, but he suspected his brother was still in denial.

      Bottom line, though, they were brothers. And they were all the family either one of them had. As adults, they should be able to find some middle ground.

      Instead of leaving, Alec waited until Jack had emptied the gun. “I’ll call you when I get back. Maybe we can get a beer.”

      Jack hesitated as if he debated saying more, but then settled for a simple, “Sure. A beer.” Jack tucked his weapon into his shoulder holster. “Since you’re not interested in Katie, I think I’ll give her a call while you’re gone. She’s a good-looking woman. And she has the air of mystery about her that I find appealing.”

      Alec knew what Jack was trying to do. He gave his brother a wry grin that said it wasn’t going to work. “Jealousy is a pointless emotion based on insecurities.”

      Jack didn’t return the grin. “Yes. But at least it is an emotion.”

      KATIE CARROLL opened her front door just after six forty-five. She did her nightly battle with the door lock—a task made that much more difficult because she was carrying dry cleaning on one arm and a bag of groceries on the other. Of course, it didn’t help that she was in a hurry and had less than thirty minutes to wash and dry her hair and straighten the place before her date arrived.

      Even though Alec Blade had been drawing her into more and more conversations over the past few weeks, she’d still been surprised this morning when he’d asked her out.

      When she’d finally wrestled the key free, she turned and clicked on the porch and foyer lights, and then closed the door behind her.

      But as soon as she turned the dead bolt, she felt her pulse accelerate, felt the sharp tingling sensation climb her spine. Please, not again. It had been weeks since she’d had an anxiety attack. Long enough that she’d thought she was over them.

      The familiar tightness in her chest intensified, until it felt as if she was trapped inside a burning room, and the searing, thick air had been robbed of oxygen. Sweat trailed down her rib cage. She held the plastic dry-cleaning bag and grocery sack in front of her like armor.

      Closing her eyes, she fell back on the mantra the psychologist had helped her create at her last appointment. “I am safe.” She paused, focusing on what she’d just said before moving on to the next affirmation. “Nothing’s going to happen to me.” She concentrated on drawing air into her lungs, too, this time. “Because I won’t allow it to happen. Because I am in control.”

      Logically, Katie recognized that she had nothing to fear. That there was no one out to get her. But panic attacks weren’t based in logic.

      “I am safe. Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she repeated until slowly, her breathing returned to normal, and she managed to release her hold on the sack. It took nearly another minute before she could make herself move from in front of the door.

      As she did, she glanced into the living room and immediately froze. The front drapes were drawn. Had she left this morning without opening them? Had the fact that they were closed registered subconsciously? Was that all it had taken to set off the attack?

      Then she spotted the envelope propped on the mantel. Her landlord. She should have known he’d show up when she wasn’t around. He’d done the same with the bad plug in the bathroom. He’d come while she was at work. When she’d come home that night, she’d found his pliers on her unmade bed.

      The next day she’d purchased and installed chains on all the doors. She couldn’t keep him out when she wasn’t here, but she damn well wasn’t going to have to worry about him walking in on her.

      She ripped the envelope down and removed the note inside.

      YOUR LEASE REQUIRES YOU TO GET WRITTEN APPROVAL BEFORE MAKING ANY CHANGES TO THE PROPERTY!!

      KITCHEN LEAK WILL REQUIRE A FEW PARTS. BE BACK NEXT WEEK. PLEASE KEEP DRAPES DRAWN DURING DAY AND THERMOSTAT OFF UNLESS YOU’RE HOME.

      ELECTRICITY IS EXPENSIVE!

      Irritated, she tossed it down. Did he really consider the door chains a change to the property? That was one thing she wouldn’t miss when she moved. Her landlord. He really creeped her out at times.

      When she turned on the lamp at the end of the sofa, she noticed just how dusty the table was. After using her hand to clear the worst of it, she examined the other pieces of furniture. Two equally hideous reproduction side chairs from different Louis eras flanked the drab olive sofa, one end of which had become the depository for her collection of art catalogues.

      She hadn’t had anyone over since she’d moved in, so hadn’t given much thought to how ugly the room was.

      Either she could straighten up the room, or she could take a quick shower. Suspecting her date would be more impressed with a female who