alarm, and turned out the lights. Her heartbeat sped up, but she was accustomed to that reaction. She inhaled, exhaled and became hypervigilant to the world around her as she pushed out the door that led to an open parking lot used by the employees of the shops. Open and in sight of a half dozen businesses. Safe. The rational part of her brain overrode the irrational.
Addy walked to her blue Volkswagen Bug, parked against the curb, noting her car needed a wash. Maybe she could get the kids next door to wash it. She could pay Michael and Chris fifteen or twenty bucks.
Three steps from her car, she froze.
Tucked beneath the windshield wiper was a single brown-eyed Susan.
The shattering of the glass vase made Addy jump and stumble backward. She hadn’t realized she’d dropped the flower arrangement. Instinctively she pressed the alarm on her fob, and the chirping wails bounced around the near-empty lot.
Breathing hard, Addy rifled through her purse for her cell phone. The purse-size canister of pepper spray was already in her hand.
The owner of the monogramming shop stuck her head out the rear door with a questioning look, but Addy ignored her and instead focused on the innocent flower sitting bright against the blue of her car. Another reminder from a man who hated her, a sharp left hook of a message meant to do exactly what it had done—scare her.
Addy sat on the curb, clutching her cell phone, not bothering to stop the car alarm. The world tilted, and she concentrated on taking deep breaths, rather than the short panicked ones sounding in her ears.
Breathe, Addy.
Think, Addy.
Robbie Guidry still sat behind bars, but Addy sat in a safe area. No one was an immediate threat. She stood, and looked around the parking lot.
Safe.
Who could have left the flower on her car? Who, either knowingly or unknowingly, could be aiding such a horrible man? She doubted she would get answers, but she would report it...not that it did much good. Without proof Robbie Guidry instigated the gifts sent her way, she had no leg to stand on in prosecuting him for harassment. It had been almost six months since she’d received anything from him. She’d hoped her lack of response had done its job.
But two things within twenty-four hours?
She shivered despite the sun on her shoulders and turned off her alarm. The woman at the monogram shop closed her door and Addy took out her phone to photograph the flower, sending it immediately to Andre’s email along with the date and time of the incident. She’d long since ceased bothering to call the NOPD with the threats—the responding officers made her feel stupid for wasting their time.
Addy tore the flower from beneath the wiper and tossed it onto the pavement where it would wither and be crushed beneath the wheels of the vehicles going in and out of the lot.
If only she could toss her fear the same way.
She looked at the cell phone she still clutched and, for some crazy reason, she wished she had Lucas Finlay’s phone number.
Chapter Four
LUCAS LEARNED the hard way that taking three kids to Home Depot was living hell on earth. As soon as they waltzed under the orange sign, Charlotte had to go to the bathroom. At first Lucas panicked. How was he supposed to take a little girl to a public restroom? Thankfully he spied something called a “family bathroom” and sent Chris in with her. Of course, Michael disappeared before he could be nabbed.
After a full ten-minute wait while Charlotte did her business, Lucas met Chris’s demand—a sports drink as payment for taking care of his sister’s “business” in a place where “any of the hotties from my school could see.” The kid drank three sips then asked Lucas to carry it. Michael remained MIA while Lucas juggled locating the right wood screws with pushing Charlotte in a race-car cart. Charlotte insisted he make engine noises like her father. Lucas found the whole thing embarrassing, but if it kept her from climbing out and playing on the lawn furniture display then he’d gladly rumble like a NASCAR engine.
He needed a drink...and it was only nine-thirty.
Not the ideal way to spend a Saturday morning, especially after Addy had canceled their Wednesday dinner, sending over Aunt Flora’s gumbo without a word on why she couldn’t meet. Flora had taken Chris to karate on Thursday, and outside of catching a glimpse of Addy wrapping her orchids in what appeared to be wet newspaper, he hadn’t seen her.
So much for finding a haven in the chaos. He’d been in survival mode for the past five days and now only wanted to get the damn greenhouse repaired and then get on with keeping the plates spinning, balancing on sticks he knew little about.
At the truck, Michael finally appeared with earbuds in, frown on his face. “Where have you been?” Lucas asked, hefting the lumber into the back.
“I’ve been sitting on that bench.” Michael pointed toward the front of the store.
“With the smokers?”
“I wasn’t smoking.”
Charlotte skipped past the truck and climbed onto the cart return. “Jeez, Chris, pull your sister down. I told you to watch her. Chris?”
“He’s over there looking at lawn mowers.” Michael flung an arm toward the side of the store.
“Chris!”
The ten-year-old froze, looked around to make sure no one had witnessed then jogged toward them.
“Why did you yell at me across the parking lot?”
“Because you are supposed to be watching your sister while I load this lumber, and I’m pretty sure there aren’t any ‘hotties’ at Home Depot on a Saturday morning.”
Chris shot him a withering look. “Girls are prisoners just like me. We get dragged everywhere by our parents...even to Bed Bath & Beyond. No one cares what a kid wants. Besides, I’ve already seen Josie Dupont.”
“You’re wasting your breath, plague. She’s too hot for you,” Michael muttered.
Chris rolled his eyes. “This from the biggest social piranha at St. Mark’s.”
“Shut the hell up.” Michael reached for Chris, but Lucas caught his arm.
“Okay, I’ve had enough. Chris, fetch your sister and stop calling your brother an Amazonian fish.” Lucas heaved another load into the truck.
“What?” Chris asked.
“Look, stupid, if you’re going to insult me, at least use the correct terminology. It’s social pariah.” Michael’s voice dripped with venom...and a shade of hurt.
Lucas turned Chris toward where his sister dangled. “Go.”
Chris sighed and did as bid.
Lucas faced Michael who had fixed his gaze on the cars whizzing down Veterans Boulevard. “What did he mean by that? You having trouble at school?”
His oldest nephew stiffened. “What’s
