Melanie ran a hand through her hair. “How do I fight it?”

William tapped the marriage certificate. “We stop it here. If we can prove this is fraud, that Nathan is lying from this point forward, the rest will be easy.”

“How do we do that?”

William’s smile flattened to a straight line and a shiver went up her spine.

“You want me to talk to him.”

“Confessions are best obtained by those who know the truth.”

“Recordings without the other person’s approval aren’t admissible in court,” Wyatt said.

“Glad you’ve been paying attention. You’re right. But once the jury hears of a confession and are told to ‘forget’ about it . . . do they? No. That’s why lawyers let things slip from time to time.”

The last person she wanted to talk to was Nathan. “So when do we schedule this little meeting?”

“The sooner the better.”

That’s what she was afraid he was going to say.

Clouds were starting to roll in, and according to the forecast the rain would come and go for the better part of the week. The weather fit Wyatt’s mood.

Hope, Miss Gina, and Melanie were playing with Sir Knight in the thick of the lawn, while he and his father continued to chat.

“Has Jo had any luck with the investigation?”

“She’s been quiet lately. The Feds have a couple of things they’re following up on.”

“Anything you can share?” his father asked.

“The ink on Lewis’s arm came back. An Englishman . . . aristocrat kind of guy who served some time when he was younger but has evaded prison ever since.” Wyatt wasn’t convinced he was the same man they were searching for.

“Did Lewis have an accent?”

“No. Not that I heard. But he did seem to have a superiority about him. And according to Melanie his table manners stuck out as strangely elite.”

“You mean he had them?” his father asked with a half grin.

“Yeah.”

“So what was the man’s crime of choice?”

Funny how his father had a way of making a criminal sound like he was picking candy from a counter.

Wyatt closed his eyes briefly. “An early accusation of messing with his young niece had his hand slapped. Another incident had him booked but the charges were dropped.”

“Damn, son.” William glanced again at Hope. “You don’t think . . .”

“No. Hope remembers him pushing her down the hill in great detail but has said nothing about anything more.” As if trying to kill her wasn’t enough.

His father stared at her for a few minutes before asking, “Why are you staying here?”

“Threats against both Melanie and Hope,” Wyatt said. “Luke is here when I need to leave. The girls are going a little stir-crazy. I wish they’d just find this guy already.”

His father didn’t look too excited. “Problem with that is what follows. Charges, court . . . it won’t be over for a while. And with everything else on her plate . . .”

“Much as she’s gonna hate cleaning up after that thing, the dog was a really good idea.”

“I didn’t do it alone.”

“Oh?”

William nodded across the lawn. “Miss Gina suggested a four-legged playmate for a sad little girl.”

About then, Hope let out a contagious giggle.

“I’d say Sir Knight was a good call.”

“Labs are known to find one favorite owner and stick by them. The more time Hope spends with him, the higher the chances are he’ll stick by her. Not sure how much of a guard dog he’ll be, but you’ll always know where she is.”

Wyatt smiled. “I like how you think, Dad.”

“She’s brave, you know.”

“Hope is a smart girl.”

“I didn’t mean Hope,” his father said.

Wyatt watched his girls run around the yard, playing tag with a puppy that was sure to grow into those big paws. His girls . . . since when did he look at them and think that?

“You’re going to win this case, right?”

“Don’t I always?”

Wyatt glanced at him, then moved his gaze back. “I don’t know, do you?”

“I’m going to win. And even if she has to go through a divorce, this should all be tied up by the holidays.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m pushing for action now. No guarantees. Chances are Nathan wants to move fast, too. My guess is he’ll only push for custody for so long. It’s the divorce he wants and the illusion that he isn’t a shit.”

“He is a shit.”

“Yeah, I got that the first time we met.”

The phone rang from inside the house and Melanie ran toward the back door. “I’ll get you for that dog later,” she warned, smiling as she passed to get the phone.

Wyatt heard her answer the inn’s phone with a pleasant voice, then she went silent. “Yes, I did.”

His radar went on and he turned to watch her from the back door. “I’d like to talk, Nathan.”

She’d left a message at his office shortly after Wyatt’s father had arrived, and apparently the call went through even on the weekend.

“You know I can’t do that right now. Hope needs me here.”

Wyatt saw her clenching the phone as she paced. “I don’t want to fight. We need to talk. This doesn’t have to get ugly.”

“No lawyers. No police . . . no, he won’t.”

Wyatt tried to figure out what the ass was saying on the other side of the line and only caught half.