Claire brushed a tear from under her eye. It was even better than she had imagined.

There was thunderous applause, and the marching band broke into song. The neighbors in the upstairs window lit sparklers. Claire cued the fireworks technician, who sent a burst of red, white, and blue sparks into the sky. Ericka’s parents clapped and wept behind them.

Ericka jumped when the fireworks started, and the bottom dropped out of Claire’s stomach for a split second. Tyler had suggested them, since the Fourth of July was the first holiday they had celebrated together. Could fireworks trigger PTSD? Ericka and Tyler both had combat experience. How could Claire have been so careless?

But in a millisecond, they were back together again, hugging and celebrating. Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Neither seemed any worse for the wear.

As the fireworks fizzled out, the marching band filed out around either side of the house. Servers passed hors d’oeuvres while the chefs prepared the Korean barbecue. Champagne flutes were making the rounds. Family had descended on the couple.

Claire took a last look around to make sure unattended candles had been extinguished, and that the final handrails had been securely attached to the wall in the kitchen.

She turned to sneak out and let the happy couple celebrate, but Tyler’s voice called out to her.

“Claire!”

She spun back around, smiling.

“Ericka, this is Claire. She made it all happen.”

“It was nothing,” she said, shaking Ericka’s hand.

Ericka had a very firm grip, and the emerald-cut diamond on her ring finger sparkled when she smoothed a hair back into her tight bun.

She pulled Claire aggressively into a half hug. “Thank you. You’ve given us so much.”

“You deserve it. Thank you both for your service. Now go, enjoy your new home and each other.”

Claire turned and walked away, feeling lighter and yet heavier than she had in weeks. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. For the first time since Paris, there weren’t any messages from Luke. It had been less than a week since her escape from the Seine, and he had grown tired of her already. Why did that make her feel so strange? She shouldn’t have been surprised. He had a reputation for being a ladies’ man. When he couldn’t get her to do the interview, he cut ties. Simple as that.

The bridal party field day loomed on the horizon. In fourteen short hours, she would be face-to-face with Luke, and there was nothing she could do about it. It was going to take every ounce of strength she had not to nail him in the nuts with a perfect football spiral. But it was for Kyle and Nicole, and Claire couldn’t ruin their day. No matter how asinine Luke was.

She collected Rosie from her helper, Emily, and crawled into her car a block away. Her back seat and trunk were free of murderers. There weren’t even any threatening notes stuffed under her wipers. The serial killers must have had a more pressing engagement that evening.

Jack’s words about future victims popped into her head again. A tingle ran down her spine. There was no guarantee that he was correct. People went missing every day. Her stalker could just be a bored high school kid copying a killer.

Maybe she should make that binder. Just in case.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

To Do:

- Don’t stab Luke at field day

- Email Torrance for T & E engagement pic sneak peek

Claire waved to Officer Schiccitano as she locked her car door and stepped onto the park path. He had finally been put back on full-time Claire watching duty, and his girthy mustache hadn’t changed a bit. As nice as it was to have a dedicated guardian angel, his presence was a constant reminder of the unseen danger that followed her.

Other than the police, she hadn’t told anyone about the latest threat. She had shoved it to the back of her mind while she was putting together Tyler’s proposal, but now it was starting to resurface. Now was as good a time as any to practice her situational awareness. Any one of these creeps could be the note-leaver. She tightened her grip on Rosie’s leash and ignored her compulsion to pull out her phone and check her emails. Instead, she focused on surveying the other people in the park.

“Lady in a red bandana. Gentleman in a bowler hat carrying a tan briefcase. Creepy twin girls with pigtails screaming about ice cream. Guy with cute butt reading woodworking magazine,” she whispered to herself.

The sun beat down even though it was barely ten a.m. It was going to be a scorcher. She really should have used her heavy-duty primer and setting spray. The metal playground slide on her right looked like it would sear the flesh off the legs of anyone brave enough to get on it. The city should really do something about it.

Nicole had refused Claire’s offer to help with the field day. She was going in blind and about to come face-to-face with Luke for the first time since their blowout. And she needed to fight her natural clumsiness and mercilessly beat him at whatever sporting events Nicole had cooked up. It was sure to be a disaster. But at least she wouldn’t have to speak to him for long.

She crossed the baseball field, searching for her friends and keeping a wary eye on the other people in the park. Officer Shiccitano stayed fifty yards behind her. She really should have brought him a breakfast sandwich. If her memory served her, he had a penchant for pastrami and fried egg.

Oh shit. Was that Luke’s car by the football field? Nausea twisted her stomach,