"You're hovering."

"Can't help it, sis. You're bringing out a protective streak in me. Up next, plumping pillows."

"Florence Nightingale and Vin Diesel all rolled into one."

"That's me. Kick their a.s.ses, then nurse them back to health."

Jane glanced in the direction of her bedroom, a feeling of dread moving over her.

As if reading her thoughts, Stacy touched her arm. "I took care of it," she said softly. "Mattress cleaned

and turned, fresh bedding."

She looked at her sister, a lump forming in her throat, vision blurring with tears of grat.i.tude. How did she thank her? And what would she do without her? Stacy squeezed her fingers. "That's what sisters are for, silly. I tell you what. You climb into bed, I'll take care of Ranger and check your answering machine. But-" She wagged a finger at her. "You'd better be in that bed when I come back. The doctor said-" "To stay off my feet. I know. I know." She waved her sister off and headed cautiously for the master suite. She visited the bath-room, then kicked off her shoes and started toward the bed.

Stacy had not only changed the bedding, but turned down the bed as well.

A beautifully wrapped box waited on the pillow. It was about the size of a shoe box, the wrapping paper

a pastel print, the bow yellow. A gift from Stacy? she wondered. Or maybe Ted?

Jane neared the bed. Baby-shower paper, she saw. Little ducks carrying umbrellas.

In light of recent events, cruel.

Not from her sister or Ted, she realized. From him.

She glanced over her shoulder, opening her mouth to call Stacy. She heard the sound of the back door

opening and closing. Her sister had taken Ranger outside.

Heart thundering, she returned her gaze to the box. Taking a step forward, she reached for it. Picked it up. Gave it a shake. Its contents thumped against the sides.

Should she open it? Or wait for Stacy?

Ignoring the wisdom of the latter, she unwrapped the box, removed the lid and peered inside.

There, nestled in a bed of dead white roses, lay a mutilated baby doll. Its ivory plastic body was chewed

and torn, as if it had been put into a garbage disposal. Its neck had almost been severed, the doll's one good eye gazed vacantly up at her.

Was it meant to represent her? Or the baby she had just lost?

Jane stared at the doll, bile rising in her throat. He knew. That she had been in the hospital. That she'd lost her baby.

Maybe he was watching her now? If so, did her sorrow amuse him? Was he laughing? Or waiting to hear her scream?

Fury came upon her so suddenly, it took her breath. He wanted her terrified. The son of a b.i.t.c.h fed on it.

She would die before she gave him the satisfaction. If he fed on her terror, he was about to starve to death.

"Jane? Are you all right?"

Wordlessly, she turned. Her sister stood in the doorway, the dog's leash dangling from her hand. Jane held out the box.

Stacy dropped her gaze to it. "What is that?" she asked.

"A baby gift. From my sick friend. Where's Ranger?"

"With Ted. I thought you'd rest better if-" As if realizing it didn't matter, she bit the words back. "Put it

down, Jane. On the bed. Step back, please."

Jane did as her sister ordered. Her sister drew her weapon, c.o.c.ked it. Walton and Johnson to the rescue, Jane thought, a nervous laugh bubbling to her lips.

She watched as Stacy crossed to the closet, gun out. "Where did you find it?"

"On the pillow."

She opened the closet, checked it, then did the same with the bathroom, then under the bed.

"Stay put. I'm going to check the rest of the loft."

Several minutes later, she returned. "Nothing. n.o.body here but you and me. No signs of a forced entry.

The front door was locked. And so was the back."

Jane looked at her sister. "What about the studio entrance?"

"Open."

Stacy reholstered her weapon, crossed to the bed. She plucked a tissue from the box on the night stand

beside the bed and, using it to prevent contaminating possible evidence, examined the doll and box.

From underneath the doll's mangled body, she extracted a small card, the size of a gift enclosure. Jane watched as her sister opened and read it.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Holding it with the tissue, Stacy held it out.

It read, simply: Sorry for your loss.

Jane grabbed the bedpost for support, holding tight to both it and her anger. She would not allow this

b.a.s.t.a.r.d to beat her.

"It wasn't here an hour and a half ago," Stacy said.

Someone had broken in after Stacy had come by and changed the bedding. After she had kenneled

Ranger.

Ranger would have gone nuts caged, with a stranger in the loft. Without a word, Jane headed to the

kitchen. Stacy followed. They stopped in front of the dog's kennel. Sure enough, Ranger's bedding was in disarray and claw marks on the dark green plastic tray in the bottom looked fresh.

She looked at her sister. "Ted might have heard."

Stacy nodded, brow furrowed slightly with concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Mad as h.e.l.l." She motioned to the foyer and the door to the studio. "Maybe we should talk to

Ted?"

"Not we," Stacy said. "Me. You're getting into bed."

"Like h.e.l.l."

When it looked as if Stacy was going to argue, Jane held up a hand. "This is my house a stranger invaded. My life being threatened. If need be, I'll lie on the couch downstairs."

Stacy acquiesced, though she didn't look happy about it.

When they entered the studio, Ted jumped to his feet and hurried to hug her. "Stacy told me about the

baby. I'm so upset for you."

She hugged him back, a knot of emotion in her throat. "Thank you, Ted."

"Are you okay?" He looked accusingly at Stacy. "I thought you were supposed to be in bed."

"Something's happened. We need to talk to you about it."

He shifted his gaze between the two of them, expression wary.

Stacy took over, telling him about the package left on the bed. "It wasn't there when I left this afternoon,

which leaves a window of opportunity of about an hour and a half. From roughly two to three-thirty this afternoon."

Jane jumped in. "The only unlocked entrance was the door from the studio to the loft."

"Were you in the loft today, Ted?" Stacy asked.

He looked at Jane, then back at Stacy. "No."

"Did you hear Ranger barking anytime during the past hour and a half? He would have been pretty riled up. Going crazy, I imagine."

He thought a moment, then shook his head. "Didn't hear a peep out of him after you left. Of course, I ran