“What’s wrong, Kate? Who was on the phone?”

Kate sank onto her sofa and dropped her head into her hands. She looked so upset that Riggs wanted to take her in his arms and hold her.

“He said, ‘Back off, Kate, or next time your fireman boyfriend won’t be able to save you.’”

Riggs went cold inside. The caller was watching Kate. Now.

Through the window, he scanned the yard and street, searching for movement, a car, a match striking or a cigarette glowing in the dark.

“Do you see anyone?”

The hair on the nape of Riggs’s neck stood on end. “No. But he’s out there somewhere.”

Kate ran her fingers through her hair, sighing wearily.

Riggs’s heart stuttered with tenderness for her, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t worry, Kate. He’s not going to get to you.”