THREE

      The call of the investigative hunt pulsated through Noah’s veins. Every instinct screamed this was a major missing piece of the puzzle, but Abby’s obvious devastation shook him to the core. His first impulse was to comfort her. He wanted to promise he would make this situation go away, but that wasn’t going to happen. They needed answers.

      Maybe trying to find solutions to her problems would calm her down. He pulled out a notepad and pen, making it routine. “You’re certain you’ve never seen the photo before?”

      Sliding into a chair across from him, she stared at the picture a moment, then jerked her gaze back to his. “I’ve never seen that picture in my life.”

      “And the child? You don’t recognize the child?”

      She slowly shook her head. “No. I’m an only child and I don’t have any cousins.” Her eyes brightened. “You know what? The boy in that picture looks to be about a year old. I bet this was taken before I was born and my dad is holding a friend’s child. Maybe my parents went to the beach with another couple.”

      Noah’s gut told him otherwise, but he needed more information, so he kept his opinions to himself. “Let’s begin by writing down the names of any new people in your life.”

      “I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt me.” Her voice rose in anger and frustration. “I love living in Blessing, and after so many months passing with no more incidents, I was convinced I’d left this mess behind in North Carolina. I was ready to bring Grammy to Blessing, but this dangerous situation has to be resolved first.”

      Noah lifted a brow. Abby’s back straightened and her shoulders squared. The steel had overridden the putty, and the transformation was amazing. Determination lit her eyes. Abby would be a fantastic mother—deep down, he knew she would fiercely protect a child of her own. He pushed that crazy, unprofessional thought aside and returned to the important issue at hand.

      “You said you moved to Blessing eight months ago. Besides the permanent residents in town, have any new people entered your life? Choir members, music students?”

      She placed her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I'm fairly new to town, so everyone is new to me, but all of my piano students are from Blessing. The only new people I can think of are two that recently joined the choir, but surely they didn’t have anything to do with the break-in.”

      Noah raised a brow. “Their names?”

      “Joanne Ferguson and Walter Fleming. They’re both nice people. She’s been here about four months and he joined a couple of weeks ago. He’s the best tenor I’ve ever worked with.”

      Noah almost smiled. Abby was such an innocent. “So, because he has a great voice, he can’t be a bad person?”

      Her lips puckered and he choked back a laugh. He hadn’t laughed much in a long time. Not since his wife died, and especially not after the threats against his son’s life in retaliation for Noah killing Anthony Vitale’s father, Big Jack. Both men had been involved in the attempt on the mayor’s life in New York, but they were only able to find evidence on the mafia father. Noah had his own reasons for living in Blessing.

      “That’s not what I said.” She popped out the words, then took a deep breath. “I apologize. Please, go on, but we have to hurry. I have students coming.”

      “Aren’t they in school?”

      “Yes. Normally I give lessons later in the afternoon, but we have a recital coming up and the principal allowed them to miss a few classes so we can get in some extra practice. There’s an advantage to living in a small town.”

      Abby’s enthusiasm was contagious and Noah’s spirits lifted. “I’ll hurry it along. We should delve into your background,” he said. “Your parents died when you were six years old?”

      “Yes. They were on vacation in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, and both died in a car crash. The police deemed it an accident. Neither one had any siblings. My dad’s parents passed away when he was in his twenties, and Grammy is my only living relative.”

      “Where were your parents born and raised?”

      Exasperation filled her voice. “What does that have to do with the break-in?”

      “Humor me.”

      “Fine. They were born and grew up in Mocksville, North Carolina. It’s a small town located between Charlotte and Winston-Salem.”

      “Their names?” Her lips puckered again and Noah hid a smile. They’d only known each other a few hours and already he could read some of her expressions. The pucker equaled irritation.

      “Lee and Mary Beauchamp.”

      He dutifully wrote down their names. First, he’d do surface searches on Joanne Ferguson and Walter Fleming. If he had any trouble, he’d connect with a few of his old FBI buddies. As far as her parents were concerned, if they grew up and stayed in North Carolina, it shouldn’t be hard to find information. “Okay, this is enough to get me started. I’ll have Cooper bring my laptop when he comes to dust for prints so I can get to work on this.”

      When she didn’t respond, Noah glanced up. Her lips were pursed.

      “So you meant what you said, you’re staying until the glass pane is repaired? You don’t have to do that. I’ll be perfectly fine here with Bates, and as I said, I am proficient with a gun in a worst-case scenario. Surely whoever broke in won’t return in broad daylight.”

      “Ms. Mayfield, I won’t leave until I’m convinced you’re safe.” His tone left no room for argument.

      She gave him a mischievous grin. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Listening to beginner music students is not for the faint of heart.”

      If she was trying to get rid of him, it wasn’t working. “I’ll take my chances.”

      A car horn blared outside and Noah jumped to his feet, one hand automatically reaching for the gun in his side holster.

      “Settle down, cowboy, that’s probably Trevor, here for his piano lesson.” He glared at her, but her eyes twinkled as she moved toward the foyer.

      He bolted in front of her and reached the door first. Her brows rose in question and he cleared his throat, feeling like a rookie. He didn’t like the sentiment. “I’ll go first and make sure the front yard is clear.”

      She chuckled and he opened the door and they stepped out. A white SUV sat idling at the curb. Noah recognized Mrs. Johnson’s vehicle. Her son, Trevor—with whom Noah was well acquainted—threw open the passenger door and shuffled up the sidewalk with hunched shoulders. His eyes rounded when he spotted Noah standing beside Abby.

      Stopping on the bottom step, his head whipped back and forth between the adults.

      “You in trouble with the law, Ms. Mayfield?” he asked, his voice filled with something akin to admiration.

      Amused, Noah waited to see how Abby would respond. She patted her hair down and released a nervous laugh. “Trevor, you know better than that. Sheriff Galloway just stopped by to check on me.”

      Trevor moved up