The wind howled.

She used the bathroom and fell back in bed. For the next hour she pretended to sleep. Finally she gave up and padded out of bed and into the kitchen.

Parker started a pot of coffee while looking at the weather app on her phone. When it rang, she jumped.

It was Erin.

“Are you awake? I thought I saw the lights go on.”

“Yeah, the wind is awful.”

“I know . . . I couldn’t sleep.” Her voice was strained.

Parker woke up faster. “Are you okay? You sound scared.”

“The lights went on outside. I, ah . . .”

“Come up . . . have some coffee with me. I’ll turn on the floodlights.”

“You sure?”

She was freaked out. Parker could hear it in her voice.

“If it’s okay.”

Parker walked over to the switch for the floodlights and turned them on. Light shot on and illuminated the entire lawn area of the property. Most nights when the coyotes were restless, the lights alone would scare them away. She opened the sliding glass door, shivered, and walked to the edge of the patio where she could see the guesthouse. With the phone in her hand, she waved. “I’m here.”

“I’m on my way.”

She almost turned to go into the house and decided to wait.

Bundled in a big coat, Erin ran around the pool and up to the house on the steep path connecting the two. Once she climbed the final steps, they both jogged into the house.

“Damn, it’s cold out there.”

Erin was white as a sheet.

Parker went over to the thermostat and turned it up two degrees. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of this crap.”

“Yeah . . .” Erin stood by the window looking over the property.

“I told you the lights would go on when the wind blew.”

“I thought I heard something, then the lights popped on and didn’t go off.”

Parker filled the coffee maker with water. “The wind is nasty without a storm.”

“Yeah . . .” Still Erin stared outside.

Erin had cracked the door open into her past enough for Parker to give it a little push. “You really are frightened that your ex is going to come here, aren’t you?”

Erin looked over her shoulder. Ever so slowly, she started to nod. “He said he’d find me.” Her voice was flat.

The only noise in the room was the coffee maker percolating and the sound of the wind and rain that pelted the windows.

When Erin didn’t elaborate, Parker offered the only solutions she had.

“When things calm down around here, you and I are going to the range. Not that I think I could ever actually shoot someone, but it’s empowering. Maybe we can take a self-defense course together. And on nights like this, you can take Scout down to the guesthouse with you. He may not bite a stranger, but he will bark and let you know if it’s the wind or a person. Or you can come up here and sleep in the guest room. Your call.”

“It doesn’t scare you?”

“That your ex is scaring the hell out of you based on something he threatened? No. It pisses me off. I don’t know enough to be scared. Maybe when you trust me enough for the whole story I’ll feel your fear, but for right now, I want to punch him.”

Erin blinked several times. “Some men punch back.”

Parker walked over and put an arm around her friend.

The coffee maker beeped.

As Parker poured two cups, Erin said, “I trust you. It’s him I don’t trust.”

“Answer me this . . . Does this ex live anywhere around here?”

“No. Oh, no . . . he lives really far from here.”

“Washington?” Where she said she lived before her move.

“I-I’d rather not say.”

“Not in California.”

She shook her head.

“Okay, then.” That was good enough for her.

She turned on the faucet to rinse off the spoon she used for her creamer, and all that came was a trickle of water.

“Son of a bitch.”

All Colin could do was watch while Mother Nature raged.

Parker had called him at first light and told him his water-main fix had failed. She couldn’t be bothered with emotions. All he heard was defeat in her voice. When he got on-site, he saw why. One-ton boulders were being tossed around like popcorn.

Only a few of his crew were on-site. No need for anyone else to come in until the rain stopped. The structures were holding and the cleanouts up and down the street had given room for this storm to dump more mud downstream.

He stood on the opposite side of the wash from Parker, and yelled over the rain.

“How does it look at the neighbors’?” she asked.

“So far so good. The channels are working. How are you guys?”

“We have everything we need.”

“I doubled the amount of trucks coming tomorrow. We’ll be starting at first light. They’re predicting the next storm as a category four.”

Parker lifted her arms to the sky. “What the hell does that mean? Sounds like a hurricane.”

“It means my guys are working overtime to get as much crap out of here tomorrow.”

Rain splashed the side of her face, her hair was plastered to her cheeks. “I’m going to need a month in Cabo instead of a week once this is over.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

There it was . . . the smile that kept him warm when she wasn’t with him.

“Go inside. There’s nothing you can do out here.”

She blew him a kiss and turned to walk up the muddy span of her driveway.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

They named the storm Lucifer.

They either had a sick sense of humor, or were trying to send a message to anyone listening.

Parker wanted to know who they were.

By the time she emerged from the house the next morning, the sky was blue with only a few scattering white clouds. The whole lot of emergency vehicles was once again on the property. It was hard hats and vests and no time for donuts and pizza.

Colin had cleared in front of her culverts enough for some of the water to flow under.

“I’m surprised my crossing is still here.”

“Me too,” he told her.

“Do you know who those people are?” she asked, pointing to a man and a woman who looked like they could work for the city. There had been times on days like this where office staff came in to check things out.

“No idea.”

The couple stopped on the side of the wash to watch.

“I got them. You go back to work.”

Colin kissed her. “Bossy woman.”

She winked and walked over to the trespassers. She played dumb this time. “Hello?”

The woman was all smiles. “Hi.”

“This is something else,” the man said.

“Are you with the city?” Parker asked.

“Oh, no. We’re neighbors.”

She didn’t have the energy to yell.

“Great. Do you have a phone?”

The man looked at her. “Yeah.”

“Pull it out, take a picture, and move along. These trucks and this crew don’t need to work around lookie-loos while they’re desperately trying to save all the houses downstream from flooding with tomorrow’s storm. Every minute counts.”