Trevor slapped the siren on top of his car and let it wail, more to make himself feel better than to pressure other cars to move out of the way. At this hour, he’d passed only one car going in the opposite direction.

He refused to end up in the same situation as in New York.

You fuck with me and I’ll fuck with your fiancée. The gravelly voice from the past bore into his brain—William Alfredo’s voice, mob boss from New Jersey. Trevor swore the man was bluffing. Only he hadn’t been. The bastard had run Claire off the road. Her frightened words still echoed in his head. She was weak, pleading, and hurt. Before he or the paramedics could reach her, she’d bled out. If only he’d been able to read between the lines when interrogating Alfredo’s number two man, Claire might be alive today. Never again would he let some sick bastard hurt anyone he cared for.

A clap of thunder lit up the sky and drew his attention back to the road as the driving rain nearly obscured his windshield. He pressed the accelerator harder and cruised through red lights as if they didn’t exist. Lara’s frightened voice still rang in his ears. Her panicked cry gave him a punch in the gut. Each time she repeated her name and address, her voice rose. He’d shouted into the phone despite knowing she wouldn’t hear a thing.

Hurry. Lara needed him. She wouldn’t end up like Claire. That was a promise he wouldn’t break.

Wait a minute. When had Lara’s well being become so important to him? Was he transferring his grief from Claire to her? The two weren’t anything alike. Maybe it was because Lara lived in silence that drew him to her. He didn’t pity her—not even close. In fact, he respected her a lot. Living alone in a silent world much of the time would be sheer terror. True, she’d adapted well but with what scars? The way she always played with her hair to hide her implant proved she wasn’t comfortable in her skin. Someone had done a real number on her self-confidence about being hearing impaired.

He ran his hand along the top of the wheel trying to imagine what it would be like to hear nothing. Fear shut down his musing. He loved noise and couldn’t function without it. With five siblings and a loud parrot, not to mention his motorcycle that never had a muffler, he grew up with constant chatter, banter, and enough explosions to make firework technicians envious.

Focus. She’d called close to ten minutes ago. No telling what had happened in that time. He glanced at the GPS and turned right down a main thoroughfare. He had to lean over the wheel and squint to see through the pummeling squall. As he reached her street, he took the corner so fast his two right side wheels lifted up, causing the car to hydroplane a few feet. Shit. Slow down. He wouldn’t do her any good if he crashed.

Good thing Lara didn’t live at the end of a maze of streets, or he might not have found her place so fast, GPS or not. He cut the siren and slowed as he neared her address, praying he wasn’t too late. The porch lamp reflected off the large, gold street numbers, and the lights glowed in one room, making her house easy to find on the dark street.

He parked in front, killed the ignition, and surveyed the large home with the wrap-around porch. No one was outside banging on her door trying to get in. Good. Ignoring the deluge, he leapt over shrubs to gain access to the living room window and peered in. She stood frozen in the kitchen with a knife dangling by her side. Jaw clenched, eyes wide, she didn’t even glance his way.

He scanned the elegant living room, stately dining room, and when he ran his gaze back to the open kitchen and detected no intruder, he let out a breath.

She raised her face toward the kitchen overhead light. Crap. Was that blood on her cheek and chin? A bandage covered her forehead. A vision of assault sent him into overdrive. He vaulted back over the hedge, took the steps to the porch two at a time and tried the knob. Surprised she hadn’t locked the door, he charged in. Her eyes widened as he took in the rest of the room, gun drawn.

Lara stepped from behind the counter and threw herself in his arms. “You came!”

Her body trembled against his chest. He wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to say, but her warmth and sweet scent made his pulse race. With his left hand, he eased her away from him and stepped back to face her. “Stay here. I have to check the rest of the house.” He didn’t want to run into the intruder with Lara in tow. She wasn’t wearing her battery pack, so he stared straight at her and struggled to enunciate his words in his hurry to ensure her safety. “Put the knife back.”

Hadn’t she realized if an intruder had attacked her, the man could have wrestled the knife from her and used it against her? Thankfully, she placed the weapon in the drawer without arguing.

“Hurry,” she said.

He first checked the garage since that would be the most likely place to hide. Except for her Mercedes, some boxes and a table full of tools, the neat three-car garage held no hiding place. He returned inside and held up his finger. “I’ll be right back.”

Weapon poised, he headed toward the hallway off the living room and turned on every wall switch. Three doors on each side lined the hallway. He flipped on the light in the first room. It was an office—a very neat one. After searching both closets, nothing appeared out of place. He stepped back into the hall and ran into Lara. Her sweet face made him suck in a breath.

“I thought I asked—”

She grabbed his arm. “I didn’t want to be alone.” Her haunted face nearly ripped his heart in half.

Thank goodness she could read lips. “Okay, but stay close behind me.” He pulled a clean handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed blood from her face. “Here. Hold this against your cheek. It’s oozing.”

A brief smile flitted across her lips. “Yes, Doctor.” She pressed the cloth against her skin and color returned to her cheeks.

“What happened?”

“I went jogging and fell.”

Relieved the intruder hadn’t caused the harm, his pulse slowed. “Are you okay? Despite the obvious scrapes.”

“Yes.”

He’d make sure she tended to her injuries later. “As we walk through each room, tell me if anything is missing.”

Lara nodded.

As he methodically checked the rest of the house, he held her hand to make sure she didn’t trip. One of the rooms was actually a library, complete with leather chairs and a ladder against one wall of shelves. Considering she hadn’t been in the workforce very long, he hadn’t expected her to own a place so nice, nor have furniture that probably cost more than he made in a year. He was lucky if his folks bought a new chair every five years. He figured her family must have money.

“Nothing seems to be disturbed, so how do you know there was an intruder? Did you see him?”

“No, but he left a note.”

“A note? Where is it?” He’d been so focused on clearing the scene he hadn’t asked how she knew someone had entered her house.

She led him to the dining room table and pushed what looked like a card toward him.

He slipped on his latex gloves and read the note several times. “I don’t like any part of this, especially the reference to needing you alive.” The implication being that at some point the note writer expected her to die. “I’ve got to call for help. If they dust for prints, we might learn the identity of the intruder.”

She sniffled and shivered. “I thought I told you I called 9-1-1.”

“You probably did.” In his worry about her, he’d forgotten that part of her message.

The lights from the dining room backlit her see-through nightgown she’d tucked into sweat pants. “Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable? You don’t want to catch a cold. And put on your hearing aids for when the responders arrive.”

She stared at him for a moment as if he’d mumbled or spoken too fast. “The batteries are charging.” Her gaze shot to the ground. “I forgot to plug them in.”

“That’s okay.” He pulled out his phone and made the call to the department. While he waited for the staff to patch him through to the CSU techs, he covered the mouthpiece. “Go change.”

Only after he shot a glance at her chest did her face turn a pretty shade of pink. She wrapped her hands over her breasts and averted her gaze.

Sirens sounded outside, signaling the response to her emergency call. What did that say about their response time if he beat them? He stepped over to her and lifted her chin. “The police are here.”

“Oh.” Lara gimped back to her bedroom.

A loud knock sounded and Trevor answered the door. “Max?” He’d met him at a class they’d attended in downtown a few months ago. “Come in.”

The other officer, Thomas Diego, didn’t look old enough to have graduated from high school.

Max raised a brow, clearly annoyed he’d come all this way for nothing. “What are you doing here?”

“Lara wasn’t sure if the 9-1-1 call went through, so she called me.”

Max pulled out a pad. “What happened?”

Trevor showed him the note. “Nothing was taken and there was no evidence of a break-in.”

Max slipped the evidence into a paper bag. “We’ll send it off to our lab.”

Standard procedure required them to bring the evidence to the Florida Department of Law Enforcement Lab, which could take weeks or months to process. “The sheriff’s department can handle this. We have a case in which eight Native Americans are missing and this note refers to Lara as Native American.”

“Be my guest.” Max handed him back the evidence. “Is Lara Romano here? You know the rules. She was the one to call so we need to speak with her.”

“I’ll get her, but in case you weren’t told, she’s deaf. Unfortunately, her implant batteries are charging, but she does read lips if you speak slow enough and face her.”

Max speared Diego a look that said it all. Trevor wanted to explain that Lara was more competent than most hearing people, but he’d only be wasting his breath on these two.

He was half way down the hall when Lara stepped out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of jeans and an oversized flannel shirt. Much better.

With his help, Max took Lara’s statement, and Trevor assured them the intruder had gone.

“We’ll do a perimeter sweep to make sure,” Max said.

“Go for it.”

After she signed a report saying nothing had been stolen, the two cops left.

As Lara took a step toward the kitchen, she winced.

Trevor rushed next to her and gently turned her around. “Your ankle hurts?”

“That and my throbbing thigh.” She brushed away his helping hand. “I’m fine.” Her hands shook. “Do you want some coffee? I do.”

“Sure.” He wanted her calm before he questioned her again for details.

As she prepared the java, a low mewing came from behind the door to the garage.

“Is it okay to let the cat in?” She’d mentioned she had a pet, but he didn’t know if the cat lived inside or out. Ethan had bad allergies to all furry animals, so the family bought a bird.

With her back to him, she didn’t respond. Trevor moved to her side so as not to startle her. He repeated the question to her face about the cat.

“You found Butch?”

Butch? He guessed that name fit. “Yes.” He pointed to the garage door. He hadn’t seen the animal when he’d looked before, but cats were notorious for hiding.

Lara limped toward the door and tugged hard on the knob to open it. The cat shot inside and wrapped itself around her legs. She picked him up and practically smothered the poor animal. “I was afraid that mean intruder had killed you,” she said into the cat’s back.

The bell on the microwave dinged, and he removed both mugs. Lara set the cat down, dragged a bowl from the cupboard and filled the dish with milk.

With the cat seemingly happy, she fixed them their hot coffee.

“Tell me what happened, step by step.” He pried one of the steaming cups from her fingers. The rich coffee aroma gave him a much-needed wake up jolt.

He followed her to the kitchen bar where she set down her drink. “I’ll be right back.”

He was tempted to go with her, but he’d cleared the house. If the intruder had tried to jimmy a bedroom window, he would have heard. She returned a minute later and pointed to her hip battery pack. “I can hear you now, but the charge will only last a few hours.”

Relieved he could speak normally, he motioned she sit down. “So tell me about this intruder.”

She didn’t move, leaning heavily on one leg. “I already told those two officers everything I know.”

“Sometimes going over it again helps you remember. Small details can be important.” He slid onto the chair.

She took a long sip of her drink. “I went out running around seven and a car hit me.”

His body jerked. “You what? You said you tripped.”

“I did, but I landed in the road. As I was moving out of the way, a car drove by and clipped my hip.”

He slammed the cup on the counter and hot liquid sloshed on his hand. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or mention the accident to the two officers? Didn’t you think it important?” Any sensible woman would have included a near fatal experience when telling her story. The heat from the liquid finally registered, and he wiped his hand on his jeans.

“I was more worried about the guy who broke into my house. The accident stung, but I was able to walk home. I landed a little hard on my shoulder and hip, that’s all.”

And apparently on her face too. “Do you think the intruder drove the car?” His mind splintered into many directions.

She put her cup down again and her ankle nearly gave way. “The driver was female, no more than sixteen or seventeen. I have her insurance information in the bedroom.”

“Good. I’ll run her license when I return to the precinct.” He stood and took hold of her elbow. “You need some ice for that ankle.”

“I iced it when I came home.”

The woman sure did put up a show of bravery. While admirable, it wasn’t smart. “Sit at the table and prop your foot up on the chair while I fix a Kinsey special.” When she didn’t move, he lowered his chin and raised his brow. “I’ll carry you over there if I have to.”

That must have gotten to her, because she immediately did as he asked.

He fixed an ice pack and placed it on her ankle. “Keep it there for twenty minutes.” He pulled out a chair and sat opposite her. “Let’s start from the top. You said a girl hit you. Do you think it was on purpose? Perhaps a tag team effort of some sort?”

“Tag team?”

“Where one person knocks you over so that the other person can offer their sympathy—like send you a note saying to be careful.”

“No. I think she was on the phone and not paying attention.” She pointed to her chest. “I was the one in the wrong place at the wrong time. If I hadn’t fallen and landed in the road I wouldn’t have been hit.”

He wasn’t convinced there wasn’t some kind of setup.

She picked up her cup with both hands and took a sip. Her eyes closed for a second. “Whoever put this note here, knows where I live.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think he knows where I work too?”

She deserved the truth. “It’s possible, but there’s no mention of a skeleton or any other reference to what you do for a living.”

She pushed back her chair. “I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Would you like any sugar or cream?” She seemed to force normalcy.

Avoiding the issue meant she was deeply upset. If only he could explain away the reasons for the note and the car accident. “Neither. I’m good. You shouldn’t move around. You need to keep the ankle iced.”

She ignored his instructions and hobbled into the kitchen, grabbed a handful of pink sugar packets, and returned.

When she didn’t replace the ice pack, he did it for her.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

Her lips puckered as she stirred her drink. Her trembling hand told him all he needed to know. She was damned scared, and Trevor had no idea how to comfort her.

He waved a hand in front of her, and she glanced up. “I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone with some maniac on the loose.”

Her nostrils flared. “I’ll buy new locks, and I’ll make sure I’m ready for him if he does return.”

“You don’t understand. Even if you have a security system installed, the intruder could follow you up the porch steps and slip inside without you noticing, especially if your battery pack is turned off. And if he comes late at night, you won’t hear if he breaks in.”

“So?” She squared her shoulders.

“So? Are you nuts?” Trevor took a calming breath. Did she care so little about her safety? “How about getting a dog? He could alert you to a prowler and help protect you.”

She leaned forward. “You think because I can’t hear as well as you that I can’t live in the real world?”

Shit. He hadn’t wanted to hit another nerve, especially not tonight. They needed to work together and insulting her wouldn’t help. “You are very capable of living in the real world, but some sicko might come after you, and I don’t want you getting injured—or worse....killed.” He pushed aside the horrific thought. “I’ll pick up one of those alarm whistles that is enough to stun someone. It won’t warn you there’s someone nearby, but it might come in handy.”

With her lips pressed together, she studied him. “My parents didn’t raise me to rely on others. No telephone for the deaf, no note takers at school, no sign language to let people know I couldn’t hear. I have a cochlear implant so I wouldn’t have to wear ear buds.” She pulled off the transmitter from the back of her head and waved the quarter-sized disk before replacing it. “Unless you see the wire that runs under my shirt and down my back, people usually don’t know I can’t hear.”

“I wouldn’t have known if Phil hadn’t said anything.”

“Thank you. I didn’t lose my hearing until I was two and a half, so my speech was pretty good by then.” Her chin notched up. “However, my parents made me go to speech therapy three times a week until I went to college.”

“Your parents almost acted as if they were embarrassed you were deaf.”

“No. They did everything for me.”

But they wouldn’t let anyone else do anything for her. “Not giving you the necessary tools to protect yourself isn’t right.”

She ran a hand along the tabletop. “They wanted me to be normal. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

He refused to enter into a debate about independence. He leaned back in the chair, angry with himself for becoming so riled up. “Why don’t you pack a few things?”

Her forehead pinched. “Pack?”

He bit back his sarcastic lack-of-sleep response. “Yes.”

She looked up at him. “Why?”

“You can’t stay here.”

Her chest caved as her shoulders slumped, and her eyes lost their focus. “You think he’ll come back?” Her voice came out faint and wobbly.

“It’s possible.”

She finally lifted her head, but her gaze latched onto the floor. “I’m still not agreeing I need those precautions, but until I get the locks fixed, I’ll do what you’re suggesting for a day or two.”

“Good.” He appreciated she was willing to see reason.

She lifted her gaze. “Where would I go? My parents are in New York, and I don’t want to stay at their house since it’s so far out of town.”

“How about staying with a friend? I know it’s late, but you have to go somewhere.”

She shook her head. “I’ve been too busy at school to make any close friends.” Pain radiated from her eyes.

He tunneled a hand through his hair. “I’ve got it.”