Faith pointed to a mailbox in the distance. “My side of the road. Three-forty-nine.”

Will parked on the street in front of the neighbor’s house. Lena and her husband lived in a one-story, tan-and-white cottage that looked like every other cottage in the neighborhood. One spindly tree in the yard. One mailbox with flowers around the base. The driveway was steep. Jared Long, Lena’s husband, had parked his motorcycle across the sidewalk. He was in the process of rolling up the garden hose. He had clearly just finished washing the bike, which was one of the most beautiful machines Will had ever seen.

Faith drew out a, “Fuuuhhh …”

“That’s the Chief Vintage.” Will had no idea she was into motorcycles. “Six-speed, Power Plus 105ci, air-cooled V-twin, closed-loop sequential—”

“Shut up.”

Will saw where he’d gone wrong. Faith wasn’t ogling the bike. She was ogling Jared, who was wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts and the body of a twenty-five-year-old who spent three hours a day at the gym.

Will was secure enough in his masculinity to admit the kid was incredibly handsome. The insecurity came from the knowledge that Jared was a carbon-copy of his incredibly handsome biological father, who happened to be named Jeffrey Tolliver. Sara’s husband had died without ever learning that Jared was his son, which was a Jack and Rose type tragedy if you looked at it from a Westley, mostly dead perspective.

“Fucking Lena.” Faith flapped down the visor to look in the mirror. “How did that bitch get J.Lo’s life with Lizzie Borden’s personality?”

Will got out of the car. He checked his phone again as he walked toward Jared. Still no text message from Sara. No smiley face. No heart.

He powered off the phone.

Will had a job to do. He couldn’t stop every five minutes to check his phone like a lovesick schoolboy.

“Hey, man, long time.” Jared greeted Will with a wide grin. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for Lena.” Will straightened his shoulders. At least he was taller. “Is she around?”

“She’s in the house. Good to see you.” Jared gave him a firm handshake. And then he patted Will on the shoulder, because apparently, all the men from small Southern towns patted each other like dogs. “How’s Aunt Sara doing these days?”

“She’s—” Will’s mouth did something crazy. “We’re getting married.”

“Wow, that’s great, dude. Tell her I’m—” He winced. Faith had slingshotted back into the Mini. She had forgotten to take off her seatbelt. “When’s the date?”

“Soon.” Will broke out into a sweat. He prayed Faith had not heard him. “We’re not telling people, okay?”

“Sure.” Jared grinned at Faith as she slowly made her way over. “How’s it going? I’m Jared, Lena’s husband.”

“Mitchell. Faith. Just call me Faith.” To her credit, she didn’t swoon. “Nice to meet you. Jared.”

“You, too.” Jared crossed his arms. The muscles bulged in the wrong way. The kid was obviously skipping push-downs for his triceps. “Y’all are a long way from Atlanta. Do you have a case down here or what?”

Will glanced at Faith. Some of her cop brain broke through. She asked, “Lena didn’t get a call from the station?”

“I turned off her phone.” He nodded up at the house. Lena’s blue Toyota RAV4 was parked nose-out in front of the garage. “Poor thing’s been asleep for the last two hours. She’s, like, growing an entire new human being inside her belly. It’s awesome.”

“Awesome,” Faith echoed. The last of the handsome-man spell drained away. “We need to talk to her. Do you mind waking her up?”

Faith started up the steep driveway without waiting for an answer.

Jared gave Will a questioning look.

Will tried to smile. He felt his lips stretching like the plastic around a six-pack of Coke. He grabbed the empty bucket by the bike. He nodded up the drive to get Jared going.

Jared threw the hose over his shoulder as he followed Faith. He asked Will, “This about one of Lena’s cases?”

Will realized that Jared hadn’t said anything about turning off his own phone. He was a motorcycle patrolman stationed out of Lena’s squad. When Lena hadn’t answered her phone, the next call would’ve been to Jared.

“We need Lena’s perspective,” Will said. “I’m sure she’ll want to help.”

“Don’t get her riled up, okay? She’s delicate right now. With the baby and everything. The homestretch has been really hard on her.”

Will heard Faith let out a long, disgusted sigh.

He told Jared, “I promise I won’t say anything to upset her.”

“Thanks, dude.” The lie of omission earned Will another manly pat on the shoulder.

He saw Faith touch the rear quarter panel of Lena’s RAV4 as she passed by. Then he watched Jared do the same. Neither one of them probably realized what they had done. The muscle memory came from working patrol. They were trained to leave their DNA and fingerprints on the rear of any vehicle they stopped in case either was later needed to establish a chain of custody.

Lena worked at a police station. There were dozens of prints on the back panel.

“Lots of stairs,” Faith announced, making her way up to the front porch. Will assumed from her delighted tone that she was thinking about Lena dragging a baby stroller up the steep incline. Faith had many thoughts on strollers.

Will let Jared sprint ahead of him. He remembered these steps from a year ago. Will had been working undercover. He hadn’t known whose house he was entering. Then he’d heard a shotgun blast. Then he’d found Lena with blood on her hands.

Jared held open the front door. He took the bucket from Will and dropped it beside the hose, just inside the doorway. “I’ll tell Lee you’re here. If I don’t see you before I leave, have a good one. I need to hit the shower before work.”

“Thanks,” Faith said.

Will looked down at the hose, which had dragged grass clippings into the house. It was already coming uncoiled because Jared had not wrapped each end three times and screwed the connections together, which was the way a man was supposed to store a hose.

“Psst.” Faith’s eyebrows were near her hairline.

Will gathered she was judging every inch of Lena’s house. The public space was open floorplan, the living room at the front, the dining room and kitchen at the back, the entrance to the hall between them. Everything looked very tidy except the kitchen, which was frozen in the exact same stage of remodeling as it had been when Will was here before. The cabinets were still unpainted. Boxes of laminate flooring were still waiting to be installed. At least an actual sink had replaced the bucket under the faucet.

Will allowed himself a petty sense of satisfaction. He’d gathered that Jeffrey Tolliver had been the kind of man who didn’t quickly finish construction projects. By contrast, Will would not sleep until the last nail hole was puttied and the third coat of paint applied.

“Psst.” Faith was at it again. She nodded toward a photograph that looked like Lena was kissing another woman on the mouth.

Will said, “Sibyl, her twin sister. She died a few years ago.”

Faith looked mildly disappointed.

“Will?” Lena was making her way up the hallway. Her hands were pressed against the walls for balance. She was normally a very petite woman, but the pregnancy had rounded out her face and taken some of the luster from her dark brown hair. Jared was right about the difficult homestretch. Lena’s normally light brown skin was the color of a tube sock. Her eyes were bloodshot. She looked exhausted. Nothing glowed about her but misery. The swell in her belly reminded Will of a softball crammed inside of a straw.

“Wow,” Faith said. “You’re so huge! You must be due any day now.”

For some reason, Lena looked aghast. “It’s next month.”

“Oh.” Faith gave the word some space. “You’re carrying so low. Is it twins?”

“No, uh, just one.” Lena gave Will a panicked look that he didn’t quite understand. She was smoothing her hands over her belly the way you’d calm a frightened dog. She asked Faith, “Who are you?”

“I’m Faith Mitchell, Will’s partner.” Faith vigorously shook Lena’s hand. “Sorry I jumped straight in. I’ve got two of my own. I loved being pregnant.”

Okay, so, she was fucking with Lena.

“You said one more month?” Faith’s voice was filled with false exuberance. “That’s such a fractious time. Right before your whole life changes forever. My first one went two weeks past his due date. I thought I was going to explode. They say you forget the pain, but my God, it was like sitting on a table saw. I hope Jared likes cuddling.”

Faith laughed. Lena laughed. Only one of them meant it.

Will suggested, “Should we sit down?”

Lena looked relieved as she padded toward the couch.

Faith waited until the last second to ask, “Could I have a glass of water?”

Lena struggled between sitting and standing.

“I’ll get it.” Will hoped his expression conveyed to Faith that she needed to knock this off.

It did not.