Ryan opened the folder and revealed a stack of crinkled, worn notes in all shapes and sizes and colors.

At least half of the messages were written using letters and words cut from magazines and newspapers. Declan had only heard about notes like this in pop culture and in fiction. He’d never seen someone actually utilize the technique.

“Someone went old school,” Declan said.

“Yeah, I guess they did.”

Declan picked up the note on top. I’m watching you. Concern pulled taut across his back muscles.

“Any idea what this means?” he asked.

Ryan shook his head, his eyes flooded with worry. “I have no idea.”

Declan shuffled through some other notes until he reached a different set. Unlike the notes composed from cut letters, these were handwritten—scrawled in a primitive style, almost like someone uneducated had penned them. But the threats were pretty much the same.

I’ll get even. You’ll feel my pain. You’ll know the heartbreak I’ve felt.

“Where have these been left?” Declan asked, trying to paint a better picture of what was going on.

“All over. Sometimes on my door, on my car, in my mailbox, at the shop.”

“And I can only assume you never saw anyone leave them?”

“That’s correct.”

Why would someone change their methods of sending these letters? Why not continue with the notes with cutout letters? Interesting.

Maybe that method had grown too cumbersome and writing these notes by hand was easier. Maybe the sender had become braver. It was too early to say right now. He was just skimming the surface.

Declan decided to start with the most basic information and work his way up to the finer details. “You’re still a mechanic, right?”

“I am.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d change careers now that you’re married to Daleigh.” He’d been curious about Ryan’s life after his friend had married a well-known singer/songwriter who’d settled in this area. He assumed Ryan wouldn’t have to work anymore, but perhaps that wasn’t the case.

“I’ve always said you should do what you love. Why do you think I gave up my career as a stockbroker? It wasn’t for me.”

Declan admired his friend for following his passion, even as people had scorned Ryan for leaving behind his high-paying, respectable career for a blue-collar job. Ryan had told him that much when they’d spoken a few years ago.

Declan stared at the words on another note—this one handwritten. You’re going to pay. “I don’t suppose you’ve made someone with a broken-down car really mad lately, have you?”

Ryan shook his head. “I can’t say I have. If I make a mistake, I fix it on my dime. It’s just good business.”

“What about Daleigh? Did you steal her from another guy, who now wants revenge?”

Ryan clucked his tongue skeptically and slowly shook his head. “I don’t think this is about her, but I don’t know. I suppose it’s a possibility. Sure, she has fans who go over the top. I feel like this person could be targeting my sister, though.”

At the mention of Willa, he sucked in a quick breath. Seeing her today had been harder than he thought. It had been years, and he figured any attraction to her would be long gone.

But at the first glance of her luscious brown hair, her big brown eyes, and her slender body, he’d been taken back in time. Back to when they were in love. Back to when things had been simpler. Happier. Less confusing.

Sure, she was older now than when Declan had last seen her, but she’d only grown more beautiful. Her features were more refined. Her eyes contained more wisdom. Her smile seemed to be reserved for those who earned it—not quite as freely given.

When Ryan had called asking for his help, he mentioned that Willa might be the target. All the details were sketchy, though, especially when tangled with the fact that Ryan was the one receiving the threats.

“Why do you think Willa is the target?”

“For more than one reason, starting with the note at the bottom of that stack.”

Declan flipped to the end of the pile. I’ll make you pay for what you did to my brother.

Those words caused a cold chill to shoot down his spine. He could see where Ryan might think this person would go after a sibling. The thought kicked up his determination another notch.

Ryan ran a hand over his face before setting his coffee mug back down on the table. “I guess my wakeup call was when someone broke into my sister’s house last week and didn’t steal anything. Considering the fact that these notes mention a brother and that Willa is the only person around here who’s run into any trouble . . . I began to put the pieces together.”

Declan didn’t like the sound of this.

“Did you tell Willa about these notes?” Declan asked. Was that the reason she’d looked upset earlier? “Asked her if she could think of any possible connection?”

Ryan released a slow breath. “Kind of.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

“Willa . . . she has a lot on her plate. It’s not easy being a single mom, but it’s especially not easy being a single mom to a boy in a wheelchair. I didn’t want to add more burdens on her, not when she’s already overwhelmed most days.”

“So what did you tell her?” he clarified.

Ryan frowned. “That I’d gotten some notes that probably didn’t mean anything, but that I was warning everyone around me. I told her she should keep her eyes open for anyone suspicious.”

“So she has no idea that she could potentially be the target?”

Ryan shook his head, regret in his eyes. “Not yet. I didn’t want to tell her that until I knew something for sure. This is her one week to relax a little. Her son, Trevor, is at camp. He’s never gone away before, so I’m hoping she’ll take some time for herself.”

“But her safety has to be the number one priority.”

“That’s why I called you. You know how stubborn she can be.”

He smiled. “Yes, she is. Usually in a good way.”

“But every once in a while in a pain-in-the-behind kind of way.”

The Willa whom Declan had known had been determined, smart, and stubborn. Really stubborn. But usually it was for good. Like when she’d set her mind on rescuing stray cats or helping Farmer Miller sell his watermelons when he’d grown so many they’d started to rot.

“I’d like to say she hasn’t changed, but I think we both know that’s not true,” Ryan continued. “After going through everything she has, anyone would change.”

Declan’s smile faded. He’d heard about what had happened. A tragic car accident. “I can’t imagine.”

Ryan’s gaze darkened. “Matt was killed on the spot, and Trevor will be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. Willa wasn’t in the car, but she might as well have been. It injured her—just in other ways. They went from being the perfect family to living with so much brokenness.”

Those words caused Declan’s gut to twist. Willa deserved happiness, and instead she’d been met with strife—in the worst way. Watching people you loved suffer was one of the most painful things a person could experience. And now this.

Ryan was right—Willa didn’t need any more burdens to carry. The weight already on her shoulders was enough to bring anyone to her knees.

Declan wondered if Willa would view his presence here as one of those burdens.

As if he could read his mind, Ryan said, “I know it’s tricky having you next door. Maybe not ideal. But I didn’t know who else to call to help.”

“I’m glad to do what I can. I assume you’ve told the local police.”

“The police chief—Joshua Haven—knows I called you,” Ryan said. “He’s a great guy, and he wants to do everything he can. But they’re a small department, so they can’t constantly keep an eye on Willa.”

“This could be nothing,” Declan reminded him. “Some threats and a break-in don’t mean this person is actually on the prowl for blood. He could just be blowing off steam, though I do understand your need to be cautious.”

“Well, there’s one other thing I haven’t mentioned yet.”

“What’s that?”

Ryan picked up something else from the seat beside him. “Two days ago—right after I called you—I got these.”

Declan picked up the photos Ryan handed him, and his heart stuttered a beat.

These were pictures of Willa. Pictures taken when she was unaware. Walking in her neighborhood. Shopping at the grocery store. Pushing Trevor in his wheelchair down the sidewalk.

And each one had a big red X through her face.

These threats were undoubtably directed at Willa.

Unease churned in his gut at the thought of the woman he’d once loved being in danger.