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wrapped it up in more tissues and excused herself to head to the washroom for a moment.
    The tiny office bathroom was stifling. Tash dumped the rest of the ice cream in the toilet, tossed the cone, flushed and cleaned everything up. She rinsed her hands in fresh cool water, splashing some on her face.
    Shit, this was big. Huge . If Adam was right—which she tried not to assume, despite the fact that this would be a ridiculously large coincidence otherwise—more than one murder meant a possible serial killer. Murder was rare enough around here—this scenario was damn near unheard of.
    Refreshed but still nervous, Natasha returned to her office.
    Adam paced the floor, head bowed. Although Dani didn’t talk about it a whole lot, Tash knew enough to be aware of how badly this was affecting Adam. Strong, silent cowboy most of the time, covering a lot of guilt and pain.
    “Can I get you a glass of water or something?”
    He caught her gaze with a sideways glance. “Got any bourbon?”
    “Sadly, no. Iced tea?”
    “Water’s fine.”
    She went to the mini fridge behind her desk, retrieved two bottles of cold water, and passed him one. Once more, she sat. “So Archer’s back, someone else is dead. And I assume the police are looking at him again.”
    “Probably, but they let him get away with it once.” He rounded the room again, the plastic of the bottle cracking in his big hands as he clutched it without opening it.
    Natasha took a long drink of cool water and waited. She wouldn’t push him yet—this was likely difficult enough already.
    “The baby’s almost here, we’re moving into the new house we built and I...” He walked back and forth, back and forth, then at last slumped back into the chair. The ceiling fan whirled shakily overhead, the beat of it punctuating the silence. “I want you to keep an eye on him.”
    “Adam—”
    “Not enough to put yourself in any danger,” he said swiftly. “That’s not what I’m asking.”
    That wasn’t what she was worried about either. “I just mean the police will already be watching him. There’s no sense paying me to do what they’re already on top of.”
    “He can’t get away this time, Tash. They’ll look at him, they’ll try, I’m sure, but I’d feel better if someone I trust was helping. Look,” he leaned forward in the chair, meeting her eyes, “we got to Dani in time because of you. You saved her.”
    “I don’t know about—”
    “You did and you know it. You also get the job done no matter what, and if anyone is going to find evidence that Archer did this, it’s you. Again, I don’t want you in harm’s way. Just keep an eye on him from a distance. I want to know where he goes and what he does. Especially if it’s anywhere near my home.”
    Her lips parted to argue she doubted Archer would go anywhere near Adam, but then she doubted that would make him feel any better.
    “I’ll pay whatever your daily rate is to make this priority.”
    “Adam, I’ll do this as a favor—”
    “No, I’m paying you for your time. On the books. All official.”
    Well, after Mrs. Martin was done trashing her reputation all over town, this would help ease things a little. “Okay. I’ll report in once a week unless something unusual comes up?”
    Adam nodded. “Bill me once a week. And...don’t mention it to Dani. Yet. I don’t want her worrying.”
    That would probably end up being more challenging than keeping track of her target and solving a serial killing from a distance, but Natasha nodded.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Nails squeaked against wood as Devin Archer jerked a crowbar back, popping the first board off the window. The hot July sun beat down on him and he dragged his forearm over his brow. The ladder beneath him creaked but remained steady.
    He dropped the final board on top of the pile below. He’d have to fill in the holes from the nails, repaint the trim, but little by little the farmhouse would get cleaned up. He’d