of Jakeâs secretary.
He immediately straightened, smoothing his tie and his hair as though he was a teenager about to see the girl he worshipped, instead of the woman whoâd broken his heart. He leaned back in his chair, adopting a more carefree position, and forced himself to remember what sheâd said that terrible night ten years before. He needed his heart and mind on red alert against her, or he could get himself into very big trouble.
His intercom beeped again. âJake? Shall I have her wait?â
âYes, Sally,â he responded. âFor just a moment. Iâm just finishing up some paperwork.â
Holly Morrow was here to see him.
Surprise, surprise , he thought. Sheâd managed to shock him twice in one day. He hadnât expected her to come seek him out.
âSally, send Miss Morrow in, please,â he said, then took a deep breath.
Hollyâs perfume, a light, clean floral scent that sheâd worn since she was fifteen, preceded her into the room. He breathed it in, and for a moment, he was his fifteen-year-old self again. His sixteen-year-old self. His seventeen-year-old self. A boy deeply in love. With a girl who had no interest in the likes of him. Only he hadnât realized it was disdain that had kept Holly from him.
His entire body jerked in response to seeing her. There was no hiding her curves, despite the conservative beige jacket and matching pants she wore. Tasteful was the second word that popped into Jakeâs head. That was what Holly had always wanted to be. Tasteful. Her family had been too poor to afford stylish clothes, let alone new ones, so Holly had done her best at sales with her babysitting money and thrift shops and dressed as well but plainly as she could.
As she sat down in the guest chair opposite his desk and looked everywhere but at him, Jake studied her. Sheâs still living in the past , he realized, his investigative instincts kicking in. He could see it in how guarded she was, how carefully dressed she was, how âproperâ she looked. She was trying to overcome who she used to be.
But who she used to be was absolutely wonderful. Until Jake realized heâd been wrong about her.
âI heard from Lizzie that youâre a private investigator,â she said. âAnd Iâm here about a case.â
He nodded. âI assume itâs about Lizzie and whatâs been happening to her and her friends lately.â
Her eyes widened. âYou know about that?â
âIâve been on the case since Dylan told me about the first of the anonymous notes in Lizzieâs mailbox,â Jake explained.
She nodded again. âDid you find out anything?â
He shook his head. âIt was impossible to know if the so-called pranks were connected to the notes or just a coincidence. Felicia being locked in the back room of her shop, the stink bomb thrown into Lizzieâs bedroom window, Gayleâs car being keyed. I couldnât ascertain whether those incidents were connected to the threatening notes in Lizzieâs mailbox.â
âThere were two, right?â she asked.
âYes. Computer typed and printed and impossible to trace.â
âDo you think the incidents and the notes are linked?â she asked. âDo you think the same person is responsible?â
âMy gut says yes,â Jake responded. âThe timing gives it away. The first incident and the first note happened on the same dayâFlea being locked in her shop and the note in Lizzieâs mailbox saying: Lay Me Lizzie will never marry Dylan. Itâs possible it was coincidenceâsomeone playing a mean trick on Felicia and someone being spiteful to Lizzie, but both happened the day the wedding invitations were received. The next day, Gayleâs car was keyed. The third day, there was the stink bomb and the second note.â
âGayle and Flea are in Lizzieâs weddingâtheyâre going to be