He couldn’t say Barney had gotten used to people by spending the day around them. Though he’d warmed up to Cecil, he’d cringed away from every human being they’d come to on the walk home.

And here, with only a hand held out, he’d gone to CiCi, wagging his tail as she bent down to pet him.

“Maybe you are a witch.”

“Of course I am, and I have an innate affinity for animals, especially canines as I was a she-wolf in an early life. Plus this sweetie and I recognize each other, don’t we, my handsome boy? We’ve danced, too, in yet another life.”

It wouldn’t have surprised Reed a bit.

“He’s Barney.”

“Acceptable,” Simone decreed, then picked up the remote to turn the music down a few notches. “Since we’ve all finished work for the day, I’m ready for some wine. Any takers?”

“Twist my arm,” said CiCi.

“Maybe we could sit outside with that. It’s warm enough. I’ve got some things to talk over with both of you.”

“Sounds serious.”

“It is.”

“You get the wine, Simone,” CiCi told her. “Let’s see how Barney likes the view from the patio.”

Deliberately, she led Reed and the dog out. “This is about Patricia Hobart.”

“Is that grapevine or psychic?”

“I’m going to say I felt a disturbance this morning.”

“In the Force?”

“I know what I know when I know it.” She tapped a finger to his chest. “Then Hildy called me this afternoon, after you met with her. Hildy’s no blabbermouth, but we go back. She wanted to talk this through with me. I haven’t said anything to Simone. She’s been working, and I didn’t want to distract her. And I thought you’d want to tell her yourself. I can take Barney for a walk on the beach, if you want privacy.”

“No, but thanks. I’d like to talk to both of you.”

“I believe strongly in the threefold rule. What you send out into the universe, good or bad, comes back at you threefold. But I’d risk whatever came at me to send out something that would drop that bitch like a stone down a bottomless well for trying to hurt you or my baby.”

“I won’t let her hurt Simone, or you.”

CiCi framed his face with her hands. “Add yourself to that.”

“I’ve … danced with her before. I know her moves.”

“And they’re at it again.” With an exaggerated eye roll, Simone brought out a bottle of wine and three glasses. After setting the wine and glasses on the table, she pulled a long, fat chew stick out of her back pocket. “Now everyone has a treat.”

She poured the wine as Barney settled down with his treat. “God, I had a really good day, and now it’s a gorgeous evening.”

“I’m sorry to have to put a hitch in that.”

Simone glanced at Reed. “Seriously serious then.”

“Let’s sit down.” He’d tried out several approaches in his head, hadn’t settled on any. So in the end, he went with straight ahead.

“I got a card in the morning mail. From Patricia Hobart.”

As she sat beside CiCi, Simone reached for her grandmother’s hand.

“What kind of card?”

“The kind that cost her three-ninety-nine, plus applicable tax and postage.” He described the card, then relayed the message.

“She’s threatening you. Has she ever done that sort of thing before?”

“No, not to me, and I confirmed with the FBI today, there’s no evidence she contacted or threatened anyone else. She’s pissed off she missed with me, and I shot her. I cost her the big house and a lot of money. Being pissed, she had to take another shot—metaphorically. And that break in pattern tells me she’s going to make more mistakes. That’s the good part.”

“There’s a ‘good part’ to getting a death threat?” Simone demanded.

“More than one. It tells me I shook her enough to get inside that twisted brain of hers. It tells me that fresh off killing Emily Devlon, she thought of me, sent the card. It had a lock of hair inside it. It’s going to be Emily Devlon’s hair.”

“Jesus, she’s a horrible, sick, vicious creature,” CiCi said. “Karma will make her its bitch, but until then…”

“The justice system will make her its bitch first,” Reed told her. “She mailed the card from Florida, and the FBI will track exactly where.”

“But she won’t be there,” Simone pointed out.

“No, but it tells us where she was. It tells us when she was there. Where is that in relation to the Devlons? They work on triangulating that and they’ll find where she lived while she stalked Emily. They’ll talk to people who talked to her, who saw her. Every piece of information counts. On top of it, she warned me. She did it to scare me, but she missed again. Warned, I take steps.”

“What steps?”

“I bring in the FBI for one of those steps.”

“The dickhead?” Simone reminded him.

“He’s no longer SAC—Special Agent in Charge. The new SAC is Special Agent Tonya Jacoby.”

“A woman.” CiCi gave a satisfied nod. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“After meeting her today, I can agree. She’s also not a dickhead. At this point, and very likely due to Hobart’s misstep, we’ll be sharing information. I’ll know more, and they’ll—including Xavier, who takes orders from her—listen more.”

“It takes a woman.” CiCi raised her glass.

“A lot of times it does. I’ve briefed my deputies and Donna. We’ve got Hobart’s photo front and center on the bullpen board. And we’re going to distribute her photo. I talked to the mayor about that, and about bringing on a couple of the summer deputies early. She’s good with it.”

“We’re an island,” Simone said. “She needs the ferry, a charter, or a private boat to get on or off. It’s harder to run.”

“You’re exactly right.”

“She could wait until you’re in Portland for something.”

“How would she know?” he countered, as much in truth as to soothe Simone. “I don’t do the social media thing, and that’s her main source. It’ll be here, and that’s an advantage for us.”

“You’re right.” Nodding, Simone sipped her wine. “You’re exactly right, too, but—”

“There are a lot of buts, and we’ll get to them. Another advantage for us is she’s trying to take on a cop, again. And a forewarned police force. I’ve studied her, and I’m going to bet I’ve studied her closer and longer than she’s studied me. Or you, Simone.”

Now CiCi reached for Simone’s hand. “We have to face that, don’t we? The fact that by coming here, she could try a two for one.”

“She has to get here first, and stay here long enough to observe routines and make a plan. That’s to our advantage, too—even in the summer, which is when she’ll come. Summer’s smarter. We’re crowded, lots of people, a lot going on, busy shops and restaurants. We’ll start watching for her now, but she’ll wait for summer. This year, maybe next. Now, to the buts.”

He leaned forward. “She’s smart and she’s cagey and she’s patient—though I think the patience is ripping under the anger and the crazy. She knows how to look like someone she’s not, and to act like someone she’s not. She knows how to go unnoticed, how to blend, and how to bullshit. On the other side of that? The two of you know faces. You’re going to study hers until you know every inch of it. I believe you’ll recognize her if you see her, no matter how she looks. You’ll know.”

“She won’t get by us.” CiCi gave Simone’s hand a squeeze. “Will she, baby?”

“No.”

“Here’s a list of rules,” Reed began.

“I hate rules. Too many stem from the patriarchal system designed to oppress the female.”

Reed aimed a long look at CiCi. “I’d like to see the patriarch or system that could oppress either one of you.”

CiCi smiled into her wine. “Many have tried and had their balls bruised in the attempt.”

“At the risk of my balls, these aren’t suggestions or guidelines. These are rules, like them or not. If you see her, you don’t approach or confront. You contact me or the nearest officer. If you see a strange car, bike, hiker going by the house more than once, you contact me. If you start getting hang ups or wrong numbers, you contact me. We’re going to do regular patrols.”

“What about your place?” Simone asked him.

“I’m a cop. It’s already patrolled. But if you’re there and I’m not, you lock up, and you don’t answer the door. Someone comes around, you contact me. If you’re driving into the village, or anywhere, and you see somebody broken down on the side of the road, you keep going.”

“And contact you,” CiCi figured.

“You get the idea. You take no chances. Those are simple precautions. I need you to vary your routines. Not that you have hard and fast ones anyway. But don’t shop on the same day of the week or the same time of day. Don’t take walks the same time and day. Whether or not you expect a delivery, if a truck pulls up, they leave the delivery outside. You don’t open the door, you don’t go out. Anything, anyone gives you an off feeling, you contact me. And no social media about plans.”

He sat back again. “You could put in an alarm system.”

“That,” CiCi said decisively, “isn’t going to happen.”

“I figured that, but you need to lock up, whether you’re here or out. Do that for me, okay?”