“Who’s there?” I called out, wondering if that was wise, but Marco’s only phone was in the kitchen and it would likely take a sheriff’s deputy a lot longer to get here than I had time to deal with the intruder.

The person didn’t answer, so I leveled the gun tip to point toward the living room and went out to confront them.

“Who’s there?” I called again in a harsher tone.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” a man said with a short laugh. “You can come on out. I’m only here to give you a message.”

His voice was coming from the kitchen and dining area, so I eased around the corner and saw a man I didn’t recognize. He’d made himself at home, tapping his cigarette ashes onto one of Marco’s plates while he sipped coffee from a mug. His hair was long and needed a trim, and his face was scruffy. He looked like he was in his forties, and most of those years had been a challenge.

“What do you want?” I asked pointing the gun at his chest.

“You know how to use that thing, little girl?” he asked as his eyes danced with amusement.

“Trust me, I do. Now what do you want?”

“I told you, I have a message.” His gaze drifted down to my bare legs sticking out of Marco’s shirt, which hit mid-thigh, as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Something sure smells good. You make your man some breakfast before he left? Want to whip some up for me?”

As if. “I’m going to ask you one more time, what do you want?”

His face turned hard. “You need to let this go, little girl.”

“I’m afraid you need to be more specific.”

He cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “I think it’s pretty clear.”

“And if I don’t?”

He stubbed the cigarette out on Marco’s tabletop, then left it mashed on the wood. “You may have noticed there are a whole lot of accidents around these parts.” He gave me a tight grin. “I’d hate to see something happen to someone you care about.”

I swallowed my fear and thrust out my hip, hating that his lecherous gaze followed the movement. “You think you can scare me? You’ve just wasted your time, so go back to whatever lowlife sent you and tell them I’m my own woman and I’ll do whatever I damn well please.”

He rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug as he set the mug down and scooted his chair back. “Your funeral.” He started around the table toward the front door. “Naw, the funerals will be for the people you care about.” He grinned. “I bet you look damn sexy in black. I might just off one of ’em myself to see those legs again.”

Standing in place, I kept the gun tip on him as he reached for the door. “Who sent you?”

“That part’s not important,” he said. “The important part is that you listen.” He tapped his temple with his fingertip, then opened the front door and strode down the steps toward an older black pickup truck parked on the street at the end of the long drive.

I stood on the porch with Marco’s gun, watching as he got into his truck and drove away.

I tried to read the license plate, but the distance was too great and it was smeared with mud. Part of me wanted to grab my keys and follow him, but one, I wasn’t wearing any underwear. Two, he had a head start on me. And three, if he realized I was following him, he might make me sorry I’d found him.

Instead, I went back inside and locked the door (which was pointless since I’d locked it before), set the gun on the table, and called Marco.

I wasn’t surprised when I got his voicemail. I left him a message, trying to sound calm so I didn’t freak him out.

“Marco. I’m still at your house, and I need you to call me as soon as you get this message. Just call me.” Then I added, “Please, please, please be careful.”

I hung up and immediately called Hank. It took him about ten rings to get to the phone, and he wasn’t happy when he answered. “What?” he barked, sounding out of breath.

“Hank, it’s me.”

He must have heard the panic in my voice because his tone changed. “What’s wrong? Is Marco okay?”

“Yeah, uh…” My adrenaline crashed and my body began to shake.

“Carly?”

“He’s okay,” I said, my voice breaking. I needed to get myself together. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. He’s okay.”

“Take a breath, girlie,” he said, his tone softening further. “Are you in danger?”

“No, not at the moment. But a man showed up and threatened to kill the people I love. You have to be careful, Hank. Get your gun and keep it with you.”

“First of all, who was he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize him. He said he was giving me a message. That I needed to let it go.”

“Let what go?”

“I’m not sure.” But I knew. If Emily had figured out what I was up to, then Bart had to know too.

“This must be connected to you lookin’ into Pam’s murder. Where’s Marco?”

“He left for work. I took a shower, and when I got out, the guy was sitting at Marco’s kitchen table, drinking his coffee and smoking a cigarette.”

“He was in the house?” Hank sounded murderous.

“The door was locked, but he got in somehow.”

“And he’s gone now?”

“Yeah. But he might be coming after you. I told him I wasn’t backing down, so he might try to hurt you to teach me a lesson.”

He released a chuckle. “You think someone’s comin’ after me? Girlie, you need to worry about you. You’ve seen what I do to people who dare to threaten me or mine.”

I couldn’t help smiling a bit. “Be careful anyway, okay?”

“Of course.”

The phone beeped with an incoming call. “Hank, I think Marco’s calling me. I’ll be home soon.”

“You be safe too.”

“I will.” I hung up and answered. “Hello?”

“Carly,” Marco said. “What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s important for you to know I’m okay.”

“Now I’m really worried. What happened?”

“Someone broke in after you left.”

“Into the house? Where were you?” He sounded furious, but I knew he wasn’t angry with me.

“In the shower.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Oh my God, Carly. Did he…?”

“No,” I said. “He didn’t come into the bathroom, but he was waiting for me when I got out.”

“Carly.”

“I’m okay. He didn’t even come near me. After I got out of the shower, I heard a noise and knew it wasn’t you, so I loaded your shotgun and went out to greet him. He was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee.”

“You should have crawled out the back window.” He cursed under his breath. “I knew I should have put a phone line in the bedroom.”

“I’m fine. He told me he had a message. That I needed to let it go, although he didn’t say what it was or who sent him.”

“It was Bart.”