Delaney nodded.

Adelaide disappeared back into whatever dimension of perfection she’d come out of.

Delaney grabbed a brochure from the stack on the filing cabinet next to her.

Eternamate. Specializing in unique and exceptional arrangements.

Arrangements? There wasn’t a flower in the joint. She opened the brochure.

While Eternamate caters to the particular gentleman, we pride ourselves on providing only the most capable and understanding partners in our arranged matches.

Oh. Those kinds of arrangements.

Many of our couples even fall in love…blah, blah, blah.

Delaney put the brochure back. She needed to call the cops, not find a man. Benny might be dead. She had to tell the police what she’d seen. It was the right thing to do.

Even if she ended up dead too.

Her stomach knotted. She pulled her phone out and stared at the dark screen. How was she going to testify when she couldn’t even find the courage to dial?

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Okay, calm down. Anthony Rastinelli didn’t even know she’d been there. How could he? She’d call in the shooting anonymously, then send the video in from some random library computer that couldn’t be traced back to her, and that would be that. She tapped the screen to bring it to life.

Two text messages waiting. She brought them up and almost peed. The first one, the one she’d ignored on the walk home, was from Anthony Rastinelli. But wait…that was well before the shooting. The second one was from her phone company, no doubt telling her the bill was due.

She opened the first message.

D, you left your apron.

Her throat squeezed shut, making it impossible to breathe. When he saw that her apron was gone after he’d texted her about it, how would he not assume she was the one who’d been there? He’d know without a doubt she’d been present for the shooting.

Twenty-seven was too damn young to die. She closed her eyes and tipped her head against the wall. Think. There had to be a way out of this.

Adelaide’s phone conversation carried from the back office. “I have the files together and the women have their matches, but I haven’t sent any of them the travel information yet.”

Travel information? Delaney opened her eyes and straightened. Her gaze went right to the files. Were those the files the woman was talking about? She glanced toward the back. She could hear Adelaide, but not see her, which meant Adelaide couldn’t see Delaney either.

Delaney stuck her phone back into her pocket, snatched the first file off the top of the stack and flipped it open. No picture, just a name. Beatrice Mackenzie, age thirty-three, dog lover, so on and so forth. Delaney skimmed Beatrice’s info until she came to a box near the bottom labeled Matched. In that box was scribbled a man’s name and address. The guy Beatrice had been fixed up with was in Scotland, and she was supposed to meet him in two weeks. Good for her, not so much for Delaney.

She grabbed the next file. No picture in this one either. Maybe they didn’t do pictures? At any rate, this woman, Annabelle Givens, age twenty-eight, had been matched with a guy in Nocturne Falls, Georgia.

Georgia was about thirteen hours away. Maybe more like fourteen with stops for gas and the added factor of traveling with Captain. A long drive however it worked out, but very doable. She could be there by tomorrow afternoon.

A tingle of something shot through Delaney’s spine. Fear? Hope? Stupidity? Probably all three. There was no time to think about this. Anthony Rastinelli and his greasy son could be headed to her apartment at this very moment. Her breath stuck in her throat. Captain was there! If they hurt him, she would make sure they went to prison. Then she would send them poisoned cakes.

She paused. Except they’d be going to her old address. She’d moved a month ago and had yet to give Rastinelli her new info. There was hope yet.

She looked at the info in the file again. Annabelle wasn’t expected for another week. A phone call from Adelaide’s new assistant and Annabelle would have to understand this match just wasn’t going to happen.

Delaney would make that call on the way. Right now, she had to get Captain Underpants and herself packed for a trip.

She jammed the file under her arm and raced toward home.

“How are you, Grandmamma?” Hugh kissed his grandmother’s barely wrinkled cheek, catching the fragrance of violet water even though it competed with the arrangement of fresh flowers that adorned the top of the piano. He braced himself for the worst. She wore violets only when she was in an obstinate mood.

Come to think of it, Elenora Ellingham wore violets often.

“Not well.” She held a lacy handkerchief to her nose and looked toward the marble fireplace. She might have been turned in her sixties but she’d been a handsome woman even then. Becoming a vampire had only made her more beautiful.

He stifled a snort as he settled into the velvet Louis chair across from her. “I’m sorry to hear that. You’re not thinking about facing the dawn, are you?”

She dropped her hand to her lap and glowered at him. “I like you least of my grandsons.”

He nodded dutifully, suppressing the grin that would only get him into more trouble. “I know.”

She shook her head at him. “You hardly visit me anymore.”

“We went out to lunch two days ago, and three days before that we were all together for Sunday supper.”

She took a deep breath and stared toward the window. The crescent moon was just visible in the night sky. “I’ve decided enough is enough.”

“What is?” Oh, this had the makings of something epic. He waited to see what he’d done now.




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