Nolan sat in his truck outside the Goodlette home and tapped the steering wheel. What was he doing? He should be home and in bed. Only he couldn’t sleep because he kept thinking about Callie.

So, he’d sat up doing some research and found quite a bit of interesting information on Rick Goodlette and his children. Information that made him nervous for Callie, her sister, and their mother. Rick Goodlette had not been a nice guy. Before he’d married Callie’s mother five years ago, his ex-wife had filed charges for domestic abuse before dropping them and leaving him. He’d also been skirting along the bankruptcy border. It looked like he’d done some fancy financial shuffling to stay afloat long enough to land a rich widow.

Callie’s mother.

In his conversation with her, he’d learned that Rick’s children were just as bad. Except maybe the daughter. On the surface, it appeared she just went with the flow. But all three of them were having financial issues. And this was the first time they’d come to visit their father since he’d married Callie’s mother.

To attend his funeral and the reading of his will. Interesting. Telling. Bloodthirsty vultures.

“Here.”

He took the thermos cup of coffee from Jason and sipped the hot brew. “You didn’t have to come with me. I know you’re wiped out.”

“Yes, I am.” He leaned his head back against the seat. “That’s why I’m going to take a little nap while you realize your poor, bleeding heart is making you act like a lovesick teenager.”

“I’ve always loved her,” he said. And seeing her again had brought all the old feelings to the surface.

“I know. Even when you were dating her sister, you couldn’t take your eyes off Callie.”

He grimaced. “Which is why I had to break up with Megan.”

Jason chuckled. “Yeah. Your personalities never had a chance of meshing. She was way too controlling and high-maintenance for you.”

“Shut up and go to sleep. I’ll wake you if I need you.”

Callie opened the door for the third time since she’d heard the floorboard creak and still saw nothing in the hall. With a sigh, she shut it again and locked it. It must have been Megan coming in from her late-night date with Brian.

Tired, throat hurting, and still shaking from nearly dying, she crawled back under the covers and let herself drift.

The creak outside her door woke her. She glanced at the clock out of habit and saw she’d been asleep for close to three hours.

The wood floor gave another soft groan and Callie swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Heart thudding, she crossed the room to her carry-on and grabbed a pair of sweatpants. She threw a sweatshirt over the T-shirt she’d fallen asleep in and crept back to the door. Hearing nothing more, she unlocked it and cracked it open.

She peered out into the hall and saw nothing, but thought she heard noises coming from the kitchen. Which was weird. Someone would have to be talking really loud for her to hear them. Megan’s room was next to Callie’s. Maybe she’d caused the floor to creak on her way to get a snack? Megan had always been a night owl, preferring to sleep in whenever she could.

On bare feet, doing her best to be as quiet as possible, Callie slipped down the hall toward the kitchen.

As she got closer, she could hear voices. Loud voices.

Arguing?

Callie crept closer. “. . . don’t deserve to be here. You need to leave and go home.”

Megan?

“We have every right to be here,” Shelley said. “He’s our father, remember?”

“Oh please. You’re just after the money and we all know it. Well, it doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to my mother and your simpering isn’t going to get you one red cent.”

Callie flinched at the venom in her sister’s voice.

“You know”—now a male voice an intimidating tone—“someone tried to kill Callie tonight. You might want to be careful he doesn’t turn his attention to you.”

Megan gasped. “Are you threatening me?”

“Of course he’s not threatening you,” Shelley said. “I think he’s just saying things are tense around here and we’re all on edge. If someone would attack Callie, who else might he come after?”

A hand dropped on Callie’s shoulder and she gasped. Then spun to come face-to-face with her mother. “You scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep. I was walking around and heard voices.”

“Join the club,” Callie muttered.

“Who’s there?” Megan asked.

Her mother stepped forward. “It’s just us.” Callie followed her into the kitchen, weariness dogging her footsteps. She wasn’t up to a confrontation with her step-siblings.

Apparently, they felt the same as they filed past, one by one, to return their rooms. Megan crossed her arms and glared at her and their mother. “Why did you allow them to stay here?”

Callie’s mother swept a hand through her disheveled hair. “I don’t really know, Megan. I suppose I thought I should in honor of their father’s memory.”

“Well, see, that’s what I don’t get. There was nothing honorable about him. He was a bully and a jerk and those are the nicer things I can say about him. There’s no need to honor his memory by letting his brats stay in this house.”

Callie blinked at her sister’s venom. “Wow.”

Megan turned her glare to her. “And you. You leave and we hardly ever hear from you, but as soon as the money is up for grabs, you’re all about coming back.”

Callie’s jaw tightened. “I left because I was told to leave and I came back because I was asked to.”

“And you just naturally follow orders,” she snapped.

“Of course not—”

“Girls, stop.”

Callie snapped her lips shut and flinched when her mother turned weary eyes on her. “You did the right thing, Callie. I promise.”

Megan actually stomped a foot. “How can you—”

“Megan, shut up!”

Her sister’s mouth formed a perfect “O” at their mother’s sharp reprimand. Without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed back toward her bedroom.

Callie’s mother sighed. “I’m sorry. She’s angry.”

Callie thought about the argument she’d overheard. “Well, I suppose she has a right to be.”

“Yes. Yes, she does.”

“I thought Rick liked Megan. Why would she describe him like that? I never remember him being ugly to her.”

“He wasn’t at first. He treated her well. Doted on her, as a matter of fact.”

“What changed?”

“Megan did. At seventeen, when he first moved in, she was fine. They got along great. Then she started questioning his authority and bucking his heavy-handed parenting.”

“Sounds like normal teenage angst to me.”

Her mother shrugged. “I don’t know. There seemed to be more to it than that but neither one of them said so. In the last year or so Megan stayed gone most of the time. Working, college, or hanging out with friends, so things were less tense between them when she was around.” She sighed and kissed Callie’s cheek. “It’s complicated, I guess. And I’m too weary to think about it anymore. I’m going to go back to bed and try to sleep. You should, too.”

“I will in a few minutes.”

Callie waited until her mother disappeared down the hall, then walked to the refrigerator and removed a packet of ham, some cheese, mayo, and a bottle of orange juice. Carrying her loot to the counter, she started throwing together a sandwich.

Just like she used to do before being forced out of her own home by the man who’d so quickly become her stepfather. Her father hadn’t been buried three months before her mother married Rick. The memories were still raw even after all this time. At first, she’d simply been in shock at the hasty marriage. Then angry. She’d lashed out at Rick one too many times and he’d knocked her into a wall.

That had been it for her mother. “Go,” she’d said. “I’ve made a huge mistake, honey. Done things I’m not proud of, and now I’m paying for them. But you don’t deserve this.” She’d handed Callie ten thousand dollars in cash and Callie had driven away from the only home she’d ever known.

And away from the only man she’d ever loved.

Nolan had called and texted, but she hadn’t been able to explain why she’d left, to voice her shame that her stepfather hated her while he doted on her sister. That her own mother had sent her away because she was unlovable. Or that the man she’d dated for the past eight months had broken up with her two months before because “you’re just not right for me.”

Yeah. Her self-esteem was shot.

Callie bit into the sandwich, leaning over the napkin to catch anything that might drip out.

The window behind her shattered and a bullet planted itself in the cabinet above her head.