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led the way toward his truck. “So, what do folks do around here on a Sunday afternoon?”
    “Usually go out for dinner, then kick back at home. What did you have in mind?”
    Jace shrugged, hoping he looked nonchalant. “I don’t know. It’s getting a little warmer but I suppose it’s still too cold for a picnic.”
    “Only if you want to avoid frostbite.”
    “I know what you mean. I almost gave in and wore my uniform jacket over my suit this morning. I thought this was the south. It’s supposed to be hot here.”
    “Like I said, it will be in a few more months. It’s barely February.”
    “I know. But I keep hoping.” As Jace approached his pickup on the passenger side to unlock the door for her, he noticed what looked like a flyer tucked under one of the wiper blades. A quick perusal of nearby vehicles told him that no other cars had been similarly tagged.
    He put out an arm to block her path. “Hold it. Wait here.”
    “Why? What’s wrong?”
    “Probably nothing. I just want to be sure before you get into the truck.”
    “Sure of what?”
    Jace didn’t answer. He leaned over so he could read the note without touching it, then got down on his knees to check the vehicle’s undercarriage, just in case.
    When he rose and dusted himself off, he returned to Rachel. “We’ll need to phone the sheriff’s office.”
    “Why? What is it?”
    “Another threat,” he said, stepping between her and the few cars that remained in the lot. “I was afraid we were being watched.”
    Her voice quavered. “And?”
    “And, unfortunately, I was right.”

FIVE
    T he springtime sun was still shining overhead but in Rachel’s heart, it was the depth of winter. This couldn’t be happening to her. Not in Serenity. And surely not at church.
    Pastor Logan Malloy joined the small group gathered around Jace’s truck, listened to what was being said, then spoke directly to the sheriff. “Hi, Harlan. What’s the trouble?”
    “Just tomfoolery,” the portly sheriff insisted. “Pure and simple. Some yahoo’s got a grudge against Miss Rachel here and he’s actin’ out by leavin’ threats. Last one was stuck on this here truck.”
    Before she could speak in her own defense, the pastor did it for her. “I wouldn’t be so quick to brush it off as an innocent prank if I were you. Anybody who’s willing to behave like this on church property shows no conscience. And little or no regard for right and wrong, either, assuming they’re able to tell the difference.”
    Rachel sensed Jace’s closeness and once again stepped into the shelter of his arm around her shoulders, unconcerned about social proprieties. Truthfully, she felt a lot less bashful than usual, especially since there was so much strength and comfort associated with his presence.
    The fact that all the men had begun casting questioning glances at Jace convinced her that further explanations were in order. “Jace—Deputy Morgan—was the one who responded to the first threat at the shop and he’s been very helpful ever since.”
    “You have his references?” Logan asked Harlan.
    “Yep. All in order. He comes highly recommended. All the way from Los Angeles, too.”
    “I see.”
    “Really, Pastor Logan,” Rachel said. “You’re beginning to sound as critical as my father.”
    With that, the pastor smiled. “I am like a father in many ways. You’re a member of my flock so that makes you partly my responsibility.” He offered his hand to Jace. “Sorry if I sounded suspicious.”
    Jace grinned and shook his hand firmly. “No problem. I know why you did. Because I’m not from around here, right?”
    “Right. We tend to look after our own. Is this your first visit to Serenity Chapel, Jace?”
    “Yes. Miss Hollister invited me and I thought it would be best if she didn’t drive over alone. Not till the sheriff and I get to the bottom of her troubles.”
    “If you have a few minutes, I’d like to discuss the case with you. That is, if Harlan