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home, Molly had found everything from condoms to a full-sized mannequin dressed as Fidel Castro in her backyard.
    But the way Magnum played with that box made her think she had more than Castro on her hands.
    Pushing the door open, Molly reached out, and Magnum obliged, dropping his prize in her hand. Slick with dog drool and ragged with careful gnaw marks, it was, indeed, a flower box. And it wasn’t empty.
    â€œUh, Dee?” she called, suddenly even more worried about those notes she’d been getting than she had been. “Can you come in here?”

    He did, which set Magnum off all over again. Molly shushed the dog and motioned the policeman over as she laid the box on her kitchen table and opened it.
    She saw the glint of gold first. Nestled in layers of white tissue. Heavy and solid. But not all gold. Decorated in gold. Painted with gold hearts. Gold hearts and red crosses.
    And letters. Words.
    â€œWhat the hell—” Dee muttered, leaning in for a closer look as Molly pulled the last layer of tissue apart to fully reveal what lay within.
    â€œIt’s a fake,” Molly insisted, even though she knew better.
    She didn’t touch it, even though she wanted to. She didn’t pick it up or tilt it over just to make sure she was right.
    She didn’t have to, really. After all the time she’d spent in EDs and Medical Examiner’s offices, it was virtually impossible for her not to recognize a human thighbone.
    A thighbone painted with the salutation “This is for Molly Burke.”

CHAPTER 2
    This is for Molly Burke .
    Painted on that bone in gold. Painted in careful, precise gold letters right down the shaft.
    Like an invitation.
    Or an accusation.
    â€œYou wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?” Dee demanded of Molly’s nephew.
    Patrick couldn’t seem to do much more than stare at Molly’s find. “What the hell is it?” he demanded, tentatively reaching out to touch it.
    Molly grabbed his hand and closed the box. “Probably something somebody tossed over my fence by mistake,” she said. “Happens all the time.”
    â€œIt’s a bone ,” Patrick insisted, as engrossed as he was appalled.
    He probably thought she spent all her evenings like this, Molly thought wearily. If she weren’t so nauseous, she would have laughed.
    Dee scowled. “I’m calling the detectives.”
    â€œI didn’t do it!” Patrick immediately protested.
    â€œHe didn’t say you did,” Molly assured him quietly. “He just said that you haven’t given back the jade figurine yet.”
    For just a second, Patrick challenged her. “It is going to be mine.”
    Molly damn near smiled. “Going to be, Patrick. Future tense. For the present, the figurine is part of a trust that nobody can touch. And your dad and I are in charge of the trust. Not you. Not for a long time. So hand over the figurine till it’s your turn.”

    â€œBut what about that bone?” he demanded, his hand dramatically thrown out toward the box. “The bone that’s addressed to you ?”
    Molly deliberately looked away. “That is probably going to keep me up all night while we poke and probe and find out it’s just a gag from some medical supply shop.”
    â€œI’m calling anyway,” Dee insisted.
    Molly simply nodded and let him use her kitchen phone while she dosed herself with ibuprophen. She hurt like a kickboxing victim, her stomach was doing cartwheels over the surprise on her table, and the night was looking to get a lot longer.
    Beside the gleaming steel stove, Magnum grumbled in his throat, his great head swiveling back and forth between Dee and Patrick. Molly gave him a good scratch behind the ears and pointed to the floor where he settled with an indignant huff.
    â€œAnd now,” she said to her nephew as Dee hung up. “To you.”
    She’d already seen the bulge of the