Identity

“It means everything.”

“And busy doesn’t,” he added. “When they tell you anything about this son of a bitch, I know about it. Not after busy. I know about it. No wait time allowed. Just like you text me every night you’re not with me when you get home. Like that, this isn’t negotiable.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care about sorry.”

“No, you don’t.” Smiling, she laid a hand on his cheek. “But I’m sorry anyway.”

“You could move in with me now.”

“I wouldn’t feel right or easy leaving the ladies alone, not when it really does look like he’s coming.”

“I can move in with you.”

He would, she thought. He’d hate it, but he would.

“The house is as secure as it can get. And tomorrow I’m going to ask Jen to give me some self-defense refreshers. Listen to me, okay? Because I’ve thought a lot about this. Maybe he could have killed me before. I wasn’t prepared—and still, maybe not. He killed Nina, but he took her by surprise, and she was sick, and she was tiny, Miles. But now I am prepared, and he won’t surprise me. And I’m stronger than I was. More? I’m pissed.”

“All of that’s good, Morgan. And still.”

“The police are patrolling the street. I’ve got a deputy following me home from work every night. I expect we’ll have a cop or a fed camped in the living room if he gets as far as the Vermont border.”

“If he gets that far, I’m camped there with them.”

“Deal. And don’t be mad, but I need him to come. I need this over and done. I want to look at wedding dresses and bouquets, decide on what song we want for our first dance, and pick just the right shade of lilac for your morning coat.”

“You’re going to do all of— What? No.”

“I was saving the lilac to throw you off. This seemed like a good time. Now let’s close Rozwell away, and go home.”

“Fine. No lilac.”

“Well, if I go with peonies with lilacs, maybe just a little one for a boutonniere. Then I start thinking about delphinium and sweet peas or tulips and spirea. Don’t get me started.”

“Of things I want to do, getting you started on bouquets comes close to dead last.”

Outside, he took her hand again, and thought he could smell the first real hint of fall in the air. “How about ‘Stand by Me’?”

“You want to watch a movie tonight?”

“Not the movie. The song. First dance. Because I will, and you damn well better do the same.”

Her stress dropped to make way for the gooey she felt inside. “You have been thinking about wedding stuff.”

“The stuff occasionally crosses my mind.”

“I accept your song nomination—it’s a really good one—if you’ll accept the lilac sprig if I go there.”

“Just a sprig?”

She held up her thumb and index finger to indicate small.

“I can sign on to that.”

She turned into him, wrapped around him. “I love you, Miles.”

“Another thing you damn well better.”



* * *



Later, while they slept, Rozwell crossed into Wisconsin driving a Dodge pickup he’d bought for cash off a used car lot in St. Paul.

He’d made some plans.



* * *



Morgan dealt with the packages that came, the charges to her account, reported them. And kept her own log of them.

As September arrived, she sat down with her ladies.

“I know this worries you, but that’s what he’s trying to do. Worry us, get under my skin. But what all this says to me is he’s desperate.”

“Desperate’s dangerous,” Olivia pointed out.

“Yes, and I won’t be reckless or careless. He’s been driving for days, barely stopping. They know what he’s in now because he bought a pickup for cash in St. Paul. The FBI’s working with the credit card company. I’m not using the card, for anything. And they reported a new charge yesterday.”

“For what?” Audrey demanded. “What now?”

“He must’ve heard about the wedding. He ordered two dozen black roses.”

“With a card? Don’t sugarcoat it, Morgan.”

“I’m not, Gram. I’m not. It just said ‘No Wedding, One Funeral.’ It’s not smart,” she hurried on, because her mother went pale. “Just not smart. All these digs. Every one’s a warning when he should be keeping it quiet.

“There’s more.”

“Let’s have it. All at once,” Olivia told her.

“They’ve got security feed of him on the car ferry crossing to Michigan. He must’ve had the truck professionally painted, changed the tags, but they caught him on it. He’s blond again, no beard. Still carrying the weight.”

“It’s like he’s leaving them a trail again,” Audrey murmured. “Like he did before.”

“It does, and they’re considering that because they’ve tracked him heading south and into Indiana.”

“Why do that?” Now Olivia rose, paced around the kitchen. “Why not cut over to Ohio, skirt the lakes, and keep going toward Vermont?”

“I don’t know, Gram. I talked to Agent Beck for a long time. They have theories. He’s trying to throw them off again. He’s looking for a place where he could hide for a few days, catch up on sleep, wait them out. Wait me out. Clean himself up, because they say he looks rough. What they know is he drove at least two hundred miles out of his way—if he’s coming here. And I know they’re practically on top of him.”

“Not good enough.”

“They agree. I can hear Agent Beck’s frustration. I didn’t want to leave for work without telling you. Right now he’s over a thousand miles away, and possibly taking another time-out. I have to ask you to shift gears because I have to leave for work in a couple minutes. I want to show you the dress I found.”

She pulled up her phone, swiped for the site.

“Oh, Morgan, it’s beautiful! Simple, sleek.”

Morgan felt her muscles relax at her mother’s approval. Audrey knew what worked.

“I wanted simple. Gorgeous but simple.”

“And you found simply gorgeous. I love the lines with just the subtle flair of the skirt. But you’re not buying a wedding dress online.”

“But you said—”

“The style’s very you, and very spring garden wedding, but you’re not going online for your wedding dress. We’ll make an appointment at the bridal shop in Westridge next week. It’s a lovely place. You need to ask Miles’s mother, grandmother, sister—and Jen.”

“Oh, but—”

“A lot of people, a lot of opinions, yes.” Audrey patted her hand. “But it’s an important rite. And you need to touch the dress, try it on, be sure.”

“I can always send it back if—”

“How about this?” When she wanted to steamroll, Audrey mowed them down. “If you can’t find what you love, what you want, what makes you glow, you can order the one online without a peep from me. And I’m buying the dress.”

“Mom.”

“Please let me.” Now her eyes filled. “I want to, so much. I want to give you that.”