Page 178 of Secrets Along the Shore

I stop, call Bilbo to me, and scan the area, my hand resting on my holstered weapon. The area is deserted—no other cars, motorcycles, people…nothing. A sensation like a spider crawling trickles over my bare neck as I peer into the woods along the dirt drive, straining to detect anyone hiding there.

Bilbo’s stance is rigid. He senses something isn’t right.

We stay like that for at least a minute. If there is someone here, I can’t see them, and Bilbo hasn’t located them either.

I reach the Jeep and snatch the message from the windshield. It’s exactly like the one left for me in the courthouse parking lot on the day Fogerty’s trial ended.

ANOTHER JOB WELL DONE. HE DIDN’T DESERVE YOU.

YOU DODGED A BULLET. SO PROUD OF YOU.

“Who are you?”I whisper, glancing around one more time.

There’s no response. After several seconds of silence—with even the birds holding their tongues as if helping me to hear—I help Bilbo into the passenger seat, then climb behind the wheel. We drive off withDon’t Stop Believin’blasting from the radio.

I don’t like this note business. The first one…I just thought that was from a well-meaning friend. Now it’s weird and invasive and more than a little creepy. I also have the distinct feeling this isn’t the last note I’ll get.

It’s an unsolved mystery, and I’m not a fan of those. Letting them sit is not in my nature—I hit them hard from the start, full throttle.

Usually.

This, however, is not a usual time. These notes and whoever’s behind them—whatever their intentions—will keep, at least long enough for me to catch my breath. For now, I’m going to focus on putting my world back together.

It’s time to start my life over.

Again.