The second house search was a bust. Gage said it looked as if someone had been through my father's desk, but it was impossible to tell when, or what they were looking for.

It would have been perfectly natural after he died for my uncle or aunt to have gone through his things looking for paperwork to settle the estate. That applied to pretty much everything in the house. If we'd been hoping they'd discover something concrete, we were all disappointed.

We were back playing the waiting game, and my nerves were stretched tight. I was used to feeling free. As free as anyone could be, that is. I'd always had a job, and rent to pay, but when I wasn't working, I hadn't had any obligations.

Living on the run had been lonely, but it also meant that the only one in charge of me was me. Now that I was home, I had a whole crew of people who loved me and were more than happy to tell me what I could and couldn't do. I loved them right back, but they were making me crazy.

My camera cradled in my hands, I snuck down the hall toward the french doors, hoping to sneak out across the terrace and into the gardens. I wasn't going far. Not even out of sight of the house. I just needed some air.

The peonies were almost gone, and I wanted to photograph them while I still could. I'd always loved their rich, sweet scent, the delicate pink of the blooms and the wild abundance of petals. They came and went so fast if you didn't catch them you'd have to wait a whole year until they bloomed again.

"Where are you going?" Riley asked from behind me.

I couldn't help my startled jerk, almost dropping my camera at the sound of his voice. "Just outside to take some pictures.”

"I'll come with you," he said.

"No, I just want some air and some quiet," I said.

Riley looked around the silent house and raised an eyebrow. Okay, it wasn't quiet I needed so much as to be away from him.

"You're not wearing your ring," he said in a low voice, his eyes on my left hand, on my bare ring finger.

"I forgot," I said.

We both knew I hadn't forgotten. I was doing my best to keep my emotions under control. To keep my head in the game and off Riley. Seeing that ring on my finger didn't help.

Riley's eyebrows pulled together, then relaxed as he said, “Take your pictures. In a few hours, we’ll leave to go shopping for the benefit. I made reservations for dinner. You'll want to dress up a little."

"Fine," I said. I could have asked where we were going, but I didn't care. The point was to get out and be seen together. Whatever restaurant Riley had chosen, it was guaranteed to be filled with people who would spread the word of our romantic dinner. My stomach turned at the thought.

"Lise—" Riley started before the ring of his phone interrupted him.

I knew that ring tone. The gate house. My stomach cranked tight. Here we go, I thought, bracing.

“What is it?” Riley asked, brusquely. "What are you doing at the gatehouse?" He was quiet for a beat then said, “Bring it up."

He shoved his phone in his back pocket and gave me a considering look.

"Another delivery?" I asked.

"Yes. But different. A small box. And it wasn't dropped off. The guard found it."

“Found it? Where was it?"

Different was good if it meant the stalker might make a mistake, but this was weird.

"Knox was in the guard house. He's bringing it up."

"Why was Knox at the guard house?" I asked.

Riley shook his head and turned for the front door. I followed him. Together, we watched Knox's black SUV come up the drive, through the courtyard gates, and pull to a stop in front of the door. His expression was unreadable as he got out of the car, carrying a clear plastic bag containing a small black box.

I stared at that box in expectant revulsion as if it was an explosive timed to go off any second.

I didn't want to see. Didn't want to know what was inside.

I had to. It would be all too easy to hand everything over to the men, to let them shut me out. This was my life, messed up as it was, and I had to know.

We stepped back to let Knox in, following him to the dining room. He took a seat, setting the plastic bag, and the black box inside, on the dining room table. Putting on a pair of protective gloves, he said, “Don't touch it. I need to get back to the office and have it checked for prints and trace."

Gripping the box at the corners, leaving as much surface area as possible untouched, Knox drew the box from the plastic bag and set it on top.

"Have you opened it?" I asked.

Knox shook his head. "Not yet. We scanned it. My guess is earrings or a necklace."

He opened the lid of the black velvet jeweler's box, and my knees turned to water. I sank into the chair beside Knox and let out a long breath.

The diamonds in the box shown like fire against the black velvet, small, perfectly shaped stones, set in platinum, arranged in the shape of lilies. Two of them. Knox had been right; it was a pair of earrings. The last Mother's Day present we'd given her before she died, chosen by Gage, Vance, Tate, and I, and paid for by my father.

My breath hitched in my chest, and I drove my fingernails into my palms. Old habits die hard, but the pinch of pain in my hands did the trick, driving back the tears that threatened to well in my eyes. Tears wouldn't do me any good.

"How did he get these?" I asked, my voice shaking only a little.

"You recognize them?" Riley asked, gently. His hand rubbed soothingly across my shoulders, settling on the back of my neck. I didn't answer aloud, only nodded.

My hand floated forward, fingertip almost touching one of the sparkling diamond petals before Riley took my wrist and drew it back.

"Don't touch them. We'll get them tested and give them back to you as soon as we can, but until then, don't touch them."

I nodded again. Stupid. I knew better, and Knox had reminded us not to touch them. I just… They were my mother’s. We'd seen them in the jewelry store and all four of us, for once, had immediately agreed she had to have them. Even Tate, only five years old, had pointed at the diamond lilies and said, “Those. Those are mama’s flowers.”

She'd worn them almost every day after we gave them to her. Now they were here, delivered by an unseen hand, stolen somehow. When? It looked like Riley had been right about our leaving the jewelry unsecured. What else was missing? Aunt Olivia might have known, but with her gone, there was no telling.

"The guard never saw who delivered them?" Riley asked.

"No. We've been having some trouble with the exterior cameras, the signals flickering, so I came by to take a look. A gift bag was sitting on a stone just off the drive, about twenty feet from the guard house."

"And the cameras didn't catch it?" I asked. Riley's hand squeezed the back of my neck in reassurance.

"No. The signal goes fuzzy, blinks, and when it comes back the bag is on the rock."

"How is that possible?" I asked, turning to look at Riley, and then at Knox.

"It's not," Knox said.

"Did you call Jackson?" Riley asked. To me, he said, “It's possible but unlikely. There are devices that can scramble the signal, but they're hard to get a hold of. If our stalker is using one, he or she has access to tech above and beyond what the average citizen can get his hands on. Even the average wealthy citizen. Lucas would know where we should look."

"I'll talk to him when I get back," Knox said, closing the black jeweler's box and sliding it back in the plastic bag. "He needs to take a look and tell us if someone is scrambling the signal, or if it's something else."

"What kind of something else?" I asked.

Knox leveled his dark gaze on Riley. "It's starting to look like an inside job," he said in an even, emotionless tone.

Riley went stiff. "Don't dance around it, Knox. Say what you're thinking."

"I think that you were in that house twice this week. You had plenty of opportunity to lift these earrings. You absolutely had the opportunity to plant them on the rock."

"And the cameras? I'm not a systems guy," Riley said. His hand dropped from the back of my neck and he stepped away from the table, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who knows?" Knox said, shrugging one shoulder. "We've got the equipment. Maybe we should do an inventory and see what's missing. Even if you didn't take it from the supply room, you know where to get it."

Riley looked from Knox to me. His eyes searched mine, waiting for something. I sat there, frozen, Knox’s accusation barely registering. It wasn’t possible that Riley was the stalker. Memories flashed through my mind; Riley in the hospital all those years ago, Riley holding me after a delivery of flowers.

I couldn’t believe Knox was right. But Riley had lied to me about who he was, lied about so many things. Was I just a fool who wanted to believe so much that she ignored the obvious?

Riley was done waiting for me to speak. Raising one eyebrow, he said, “What do you think? I don't hear you jumping to defend my honor, Lise."

I stared up at him, the accusation in his hazel eyes striking a blow to my heart. My gut shouted, No.

No way Riley had anything to do with this. He’d never hurt me intentionally. I wanted to tell Knox to go to hell. To stop wasting our time looking at Riley, when all Riley had ever done was defend me and try to keep me safe.

I opened my mouth to speak, and nothing came out. I wanted to believe Riley.

I had believed Riley. I'd fallen for everything he'd ever said to me right up until he'd admitted it had all been a lie. He'd been lying to me from the day we'd met.

When it came to Riley, my instincts were all wrong.

At my silence, pain flashed through Riley's eyes. With a hard nod of his head, he said, “Fine. I don't know why I'd be surprised. When have you ever believed in me? The first time we hit a rough spot, you sent your brother to dump me and took off. That's your M.O., isn't it? Things get hard, and you run. You shut down, lock me out."

"That's not fair," I protested.

"Who said any of this was fair? I lied to you at the beginning. I'm sorry for that. But we have a second chance. How many people ever get a second chance? And you're throwing it away because of a mistake I made over a decade ago. You don't have the guts to take a risk."

"That's not fair," I repeated, this time in a whisper. "You're twisting things. You didn't just lie once, a decade ago. You kept lying until I caught you a few days ago. Big difference. And I didn't run away because I was afraid of the risk, I ran to keep you safe, you asshole. Maybe it was wrong, but I did it because I loved you."

"If that's the story you want to tell yourself," Riley said. "From where I'm standing, this is the same thing all over again. You want to believe Knox? You want to think I'm the one doing this? Have at it. I'm not going to beg you to believe in me. I shouldn't have to. And when we catch this guy, and you have proof it's not me, don't come asking me to give you another chance."

He turned and left the dining room. His boots echoed through the entry hall, followed by the slam of the front door.

Knox picked up the plastic bag holding the black jeweler's box. “Stay inside. Set the alarm behind me. I don't like that this guy was so close to the house. Until Riley gets back, keep the alarm on, and don't go anywhere."

"Got it," I said.

So much for photographing the peonies. I wanted to ask him if he really believed his accusations against Riley. Before the question could fully form in my mind, I knew there was no point in asking.

What Knox thought didn't matter.

I was afraid to trust Riley. Afraid to trust myself. But I knew, down to my bones, that Riley would never hurt me. Not like this. He'd lied. A lot. But sending those flowers, my mother's earrings, fabricating his own accident and near overdose. There was no way.

I followed Knox to the door and watched him drive away, Riley in the passenger seat of the big black SUV. When Riley came back, I'd talk to him. We couldn't go on as we were, and he was right. If I wanted any kind of life, with or without him, I had to stop running. I had to stop being afraid to risk my heart.

Easier said than done. I locked the door and set the alarm, the quiet suddenly oppressive. Abel was at the market. Mrs. W was running errands. Sophie and Aunt Amelia were out with Charlie, but they’d said they’d be back for lunch in an hour or so. The house was big, but rarely empty, especially since Sophie and Aunt Amelia had moved in, even less so since Gage had come home.

Any other day I would have savored the quiet, but the specter of the stalker coming so close to the gatehouse to leave his gift of my mother’s earrings made me uneasy. The alarm system, with its cameras and motion sensors, was a safety blanket. What if he’d gotten to more than the cameras? What if he had a way around the door or window sensors? What if he was inside the house?

Panic had my heart racing. I took a deep breath, then another, and walked down the hall to my rooms in a measured, controlled pace. Knox would not have left if he thought the alarm was compromised. Sophie, Mrs. W, Abel, Amelia, and Charlie would all be home soon.

In the meantime, I had work to do. I sat at my desk and flipped open my laptop. Time slipped away as I flipped through the photographs I had stored there, evaluating each one, trying to decide what was worth a second look.

The stiffness in my neck felt as if I'd been sitting there for hours, but it couldn’t have been that long. When I heard the beep of the alarm being deactivated, I stood and stretched. I'd go help Mrs. W unload her purchases, maybe help Abel make lunch if he’d let me.

I'd barely cleared my bedroom door when an arm came up, closing around my neck, cranking tight against my windpipe and cutting off my air. My mouth gaping like a fish, I reached up to claw at my captor. A sharp sting flared behind my ear, growing, heating, spreading through my veins like fire, leaving me weak and dizzy.

My vision blurred and swooped as I was turned upside down, hanging over a shoulder, my hair swinging, almost dragging across the hardwood floor. Where were we going? Down the hall? Did I hear the door close?

My head spun. I thought I smelled freshly cut grass, flowers. The damp, loamy scent of the woods. Where was the sun? I couldn’t get my bearings, couldn’t force my mind to function.

I blinked, trying to clear my eyes, seeing only the blur of dark shoes below lighter pants, hearing only the shuffle of feet and the heavy sound of breathing. My vision faded to grey and my brain shut down before I could save myself.

Was I dying? I could be dying. I wasn’t ready. I wanted my second chance.

A second chance to save myself.

A second chance at everything.