“How could you doubt that? You’re the best flower girl this town has ever seen.”

“Oh, jeez, what am I going to do?” Grace said. “I have weddings in April! I can’t shut down! I can’t run! You know brides—they’re all on such a weak string to start with. Every small thing that goes wrong turns them insane. Their flowers have to be on time and perfect.”

“You don’t have to shut down. I can’t explain how this would be possible but I bet this note is some kind of ugly prank. Seth will find out. He’s not only very good at this sort of thing, he’s committed. He’s a good cop.”

* * *

Grace and Troy took a swing by his apartment so he could gather up some clothes, his backpack and laptop so he wouldn’t have to go home in the morning before work. Grace was restless through the night, even with Troy beside her. She tossed and slept little and had one terrible dream, but it was not about Bruno. She was skating but her costume wasn’t covering her body and her legs wouldn’t move. She couldn’t see the audience but she could hear them laughing. There was one face—her biggest rival, Fiona, laughing at her, pointing, howling.

In the dream, Grace worked harder. She tried relaxing and focusing and her legs began to move, but something about what she was doing was horribly difficult. She realized she was trying to skate uphill; the ice was slanted sharply upward. Her heart was pounding and her stomach ached, but she strove for poise. She looked down at her feet and the skates were gone, replaced by her Ugg boots. All the pressure of performance crippled her; all the fear of failure brought that lump back to her throat and she knew she couldn’t do it, that it would be a disaster. Worse than that, she looked like a fool. She tried to skate in boots while covering her breasts where the costume had fallen away. And what costume was that? Some purple tulle thing that looked ridiculous!

Her heart raced and she woke up with a sob, gasping.

“Hey now,” Troy whispered. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

She curled into him and tried to slow her pulse. She wanted to tell him she hadn’t been afraid—she’d been back in that stressed place, the weight of performance anxiety bearing down on her.

Troy’s arms were around her and she came back to her senses—it was just a silly dream. Nothing like that had ever happened to her. But she had felt those feelings before—the fear that she’d biff it and go slamming into the ice. Her mother would harp on it for ages, pointing out every flaw. In fact, even her best skating seemed not to be good enough.

She had so loved skating, yet every day of her life had been filled with the burden of anxiety and desperation.

Troy’s lips were on her neck and she turned in his arms to meet his mouth with a kiss so hungry she all but consumed him. He growled deep in his throat and his hands were urgently moving. She parted her legs for him and with a deep groan he rolled her onto her back. He reached for a condom and then he reached for her. His fingers massaged her roughly; she was slick with desire. She pulled him to her, her hands on his butt. He was quickly inside her, pumping expertly. She couldn’t be quiet. Her sighs turned to soft moans as she met him thrust for thrust.

This is the only place I want to be, she thought with a mixture of gratitude and despair. Her orgasm was so tight and hard Troy stopped breathing for a second. Then he slammed into her and pulsed with incredible power, making her come all over again.

They lay panting, clinging to each other. They were silent for a long time before Troy spoke. “That should help you sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she said, gently stroking his back. “I just want this.”

“Do you now?” he asked with a chuckle. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her again. “Sometimes you make me wonder if I have any control at all.”

“It seemed like you had plenty.”

“No, sweetheart. I definitely lost my head. Gracie, if we’re going to get ahead of this thing with the note, you’re going to have to be very brave. You’re going to have to get back some of that feisty girl. Like the little witch I met on Halloween night—full of attitude. You’re going to have to trust some people to help you.”

She was quiet for a moment. He had no idea how strong she’d had to be! Since she was just a little girl.

But then she remembered she had won the gold by being pissed off and single-minded. She had decided to give it everything she had. “You really haven’t seen me in action yet,” she finally said.

In the morning, they proceeded as planned. After showering and eating a light breakfast, Troy made sure she was secure in the shop behind locked doors. At midmorning, Seth rang the bell and she let him in.

“Well?” she asked.

“I hope you consider this good news because I do. Your stalker, Bruno, is safely monitored in a group home in Hillsboro County, Florida. He takes his meds and visits his sister regularly and has not been out of contact with his sponsors for even twenty-four hours since entering the group home. According to his sister, he has not had delusions about you for over a dozen years, thanks to his medication.”

“And that’s good news?” she asked. “Then who’s trying to drive me insane?”

“Easy, Grace. It’s a mean prank. But there was no threat.”

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked.

Seth frowned, she couldn’t miss it. “I’m going to be vigilant. I’m going to tell Gina, Carrie, Waylan and Dr. Grant that someone left an anonymous note that frightened you and we don’t know who or why. I’m going to ask them to watch for strange or suspicious persons. That’s about all I can do.”

“Can’t you do something more? Like check it for fingerprints or something?”

“No, Grace,” he said. “I know you feel vulnerable and I’m going to keep my eyes open for this joker, but there hasn’t been a crime. Your shop or residence hasn’t been broken into, no one has threatened you. I have no reason to think you’re in danger. I think you should be cautious and alert—definitely let me know if there’s further contact—but even though it’s suspicious and suggests a link to an old, resolved crime, at this point it’s nothing more than an innocuous note. In itself, the note isn’t even malicious. In fact, it could be a coincidence that the wording is the same.”