28.

An immediate need to race through the rooms with a weapon in hand filled Ian. "What do you mean, someone's been in your house? I've been here. Your mom has." He misinterpreted on purpose.

Taylor's head moved side to side against his chest. "No, I mean, someone ... else."

Yeah, I know. "Do you have a cleaning service?"

"No."

d.a.m.n. "Anyone else got keys?"

"Just Mama and Daddy. And Riley-"

Riley.

"-but he only has them for emergencies."

Emergencies. Right. Ian held Taylor out so he could look into her eyes. "You need to call him."

"And do what? Ask him if he's been in my house and stolen my sweet rolls-"

"And the photo."

Taylor spun away from Ian. "He wouldn't do that, and it was midnight. He'd have been asleep." She paced the length of the kitchen, to the bay window, around the table and back. "He wouldn't."

Ian held up his hands. "He could have borrow-"

"Riley wouldn't do that without telling me. He's a police officer. He has high standards." She stared up at Ian, her feet braced as if for attack.

Ian went to her and took her in his arms. "Through all my years, there's one thing Tripp and I have always vowed."

"What's that?" Her arms went around his neck.

"To listen to our gut. If it's talking, and it's not gas, it's important."

Chuckles b.u.mped her against him. "And what is your gut saying?"

"That Riley needs to know about this."

Taylor rolled her eyes as well as any teenager. "If I tell Riley about this, he's going to flip out, and will try to hide me under a bush or lock me up *for my own safety'." The latter part came out as pure sarcasm.

"Sometimes," Ian said, "we do what we have to do."

a a a Three phone calls and one drive-thru run later, Ian and Taylor's car crunched gravel in Lexi and Tripp's driveway. Riley's black pickup waited, with him standing at the front. Emma rocked in a chair on the wide expanse of porch, and, Ian a.s.sumed, Lexi and Tripp waited inside. He parked, grabbed the bags of biscuits and goodies from the back seat, and slipped from the car.

Riley pushed off from his truck, tucked what looked like a cell phone in his jeans pockets and didn't even look toward Ian.

As soon as Taylor got within his reach, he put his hands on her biceps, holding her still and in front of him. "Tell me why you asked me if I'd been to your house."

"I will, but I'd rather do it once-"

"You think someone has, then. Who?"

Taylor shook her head. "I don't know."

"This needs to be reported-"

"I'm just a little leery of having any more police around my house, Riley."

Ian held up the bags, nudged Taylor with his shoulder and walked away. From within his peripheral vision, Riley let go, and both he and Taylor followed.

On the porch, Emma stood, opened the door and waved them in. "Sherrill's scanning the photos for you," she said as they pa.s.sed. "She'll text me when she's done and send them to us."

Ian gave her a small nod. "Thanks."

"Good morning." In the kitchen, Lexi sipped from a cup, a pile of saltine crackers at her side, while Tripp stood leaning back against the sink.

When Ian dropped the breakfast on the table, Lexi jumped up and ran from the room.

A door somewhere in the back slammed shut, and Emma went after her.

"She upset about something?" Ian asked as the scent of bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy wafted from the bag.

"Or is that morning sickness?" Taylor asked.

"The second," Tripp said. "And G.o.d help me, I'm gonna die if I have to eat crackers for breakfast again." He grabbed an orange and white wrapper from the table, unfurled it and bit in. His eyes closed as if heaven itself descended upon his taste buds.

"My sister spent the first trimester doing the same thing," Riley said.

Ian took a seat, motioned to Riley and Taylor to do the same. Tripp dropped onto the end stool as Emma came back in.

"She says to eat, hurry it up and throw all remnants away." Emma grabbed a biscuit and dove into it as fast as Tripp had.

"She been like this long?" Ian asked as he savored his own hand-held goodness.

"Almost two weeks," Tripp mumbled behind a bite. "Was fine for a while, and then it hit her. Every morning, she comes in here, sips her tea ready to eat some crackers, and it either all comes back up, or she pounds another portion or two down. I don't get it."

"All day?" Taylor asked.

Tripp shook his head. "Usually by noon, she's good if she's been sick. If she's having a good day, she'll eat like a horse from the moment she wakes up."

"It'll end," Riley said. "Katie swears she'll never have another during those first twelve weeks."

"She's on her third of the brood, isn't she?" Taylor bounced with a small laugh.

Riley nodded, his hands tucked in his lap. "Don't you want a whole bunch, Tay? Something like a half dozen to fill up your Mama's house to mess it up on purpose."

Taylor shot Riley her middle finger.

"You can eat, you know," Emma said to Riley. "It's gonna go to waste if you don't, thanks to Lexi's overactive sense of smell." Emma slid a wrapped package to him. "You want kids, Riley?"

He took one of the breakfast sandwiches. "I don't think about it much since I'm not married." His emphasis on the last part came with a direct glance toward Taylor.

Sitting between them, Ian swiveled back and forth to catch the looks.

"How long have you two known each other?" Tripp asked.

"All our lives," Riley said. "She was the girl next door through high school. I've seen the pigtails, first bikinis, braces, acne, all grown up-all the stages."

"And, you never made a move?" Tripp asked.

Ian shot his best friend a glare.

Tripp grinned.

Riley chuckled. "Would you have wanted to date Emma?"

Emma batted Tripp with her hand. "That's just mean."

"What? I didn't say anything!" Tripp shirked away from another slap. "That would be like dating Missy. That's gross."

"Exactly," Riley said.

The five of them munched in amicable silence for a few minutes until Lexi stood in the doorway again. Tripp jumped up, and Emma stuffed wrappers in the bag, Riley helping. "It's okay," Lexi said. "Heard the ding of email and checked it. Got this from Sherrill." She waved a paper in the air before handing it to Tripp. "I'm actually kinda hungry." Another step brought her closer to the table. "Maybe I could-" She turned and ran again.

Tripp hung his head. "This bites. She's probably going to be like this for the rest of the morning, so we can get started anytime."

Emma threw away or stored the remainder of the food and came back to the table. "Whoa." She sat and picked up the photocopy of the pictures. "That is totally you two." She brought it closer, pulled it away and brought it in again. "And that's totally Jason Porter."

"What?" Taylor and Ian said.

Emma turned the photo around, holding it in front of herself, and pointed to one man. "This looks like Ian." Her finger ticked to the right. "This one looks like Taylor." She went farther in the same direction. "And, this one looks like Jason. Right? Do I win a prize?"

"Who the heck is Jason Porter?" Riley s.n.a.t.c.hed the photo from Emma.

a a a "Oh, my lord," Riley said, photo still in hand. "That's Tanner."

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," Ian said.

For the second time that day, Taylor's body shook with an uncontrollable movement. If anyone else had recognized Tanner, it would have been Riley. They'd met once, when Riley'd tried to get her to return to North Carolina and had stayed for the better part of a week trying to convince her.

A month later, Tanner pulled his prank-of-a-lifetime.

"Tell me why all three of you look like you're in the eighteen hundreds," Riley said, his steepled hands resting on the table.

Taylor recognized the gesture. Calm fury-one Riley had perfected over his years on the force. She squelched her internal groan. "Was this what your gut was telling you, Ian?" Taylor asked. "Was this why you didn't think we'd beaten it?"

"Not exactly, but what if he was there, and he's here now-" Ian ran a hand over his head, pursing his lips.

"Then how?" Tripp asked.

"The mind can really play tricks. Maybe-" Ian turned to Tripp. "You got your computer?"

"I'll get it." Tripp disappeared with a sc.r.a.pe of chair legs against the floor.

"Tay?" Riley's simple call of her name held the undertones of one ready to burst.

"I'm just gonna go check on Lexi." Emma scooted back and followed Tripp, leaving Ian, Taylor and Riley together.

"Taylor Claire Marsh. Speak. Now." Riley poked one finger onto the table. "If Tanner Meadows is somehow alive and around here, I need to know. And, I want to know how he's involved in this ... thing-" He turned to Ian. "-that you got her caught up with."

A bubble of Taylor's own anger built inside. She opened her mouth to speak as Ian's chair scooted forward with a screech against the floor.

Hands clasped on the table, in much the same way Riley's had been, Ian said, "I didn't bring her into this. It's a game. A f.u.c.king messed up one. And now, with these three faces, I'm thinking there's some sort of connection." Ian pointed to the photo.

Taylor held up a finger. "But the game is only us two."

"Jessie recounted a story she was told." Ian adjusted until he faced Taylor. "You know how that is? One person tells a story, another retells it, and the little details change. Who knows if this is related, but I have a feeling ... and I told you I listen to my gut."

Taylor sat back, rubbing her hands up her arms.

Ian switched back to Riley. "I think Tanner faked his own death. Again. And took Jason's name. I think he set up Taylor ... somehow. I think those two people in that picture are actually Taylor and I, but in another life. It's obvious Tanner was there, too ... somehow. But, what his role is, I don't know."

Riley let out a deep sigh. "And, you really believe all this? What you told me in New York wasn't just some ... scheme?"

Ian leaned farther across the table. "Do you believe she can move the air?"

"I've seen it with my own eyes," Riley said as Emma, Tripp and Lexi walked back in.

"Seen what?" Emma plopped down in the seat closest to Riley while Tripp opened the laptop.

Taylor dropped her head into her hands. A squeak brought her head back up.

Tripp turned a laptop around until it faced her. "Is this Tanner or Jason, Taylor?"

Her heart lurched as the face stared back at her. The one on the left, clean shaven and unsmiling, matched the one on the right-closed-eyed and with the pallor of death. "Not Tanner. But not Jason, either."

Tripp turned it to Emma. "You recognize him?"

Emma nodded. "Jason."