“Mommy! You rode with Mikey’s daddy?” Jane’s eyes were wide in surprise, and Faith knew her daughter was far too perceptive for her own good.

      “I sure did.” Faith did her best to smile, but inside she couldn’t bear knowing the light in her daughter’s eyes would disappear when she learned her daddy was gone. Especially less than a week before Christmas. The bright Christmas lights on the artificial tree in the corner of the room mocked her. It was covered in ornaments made by the day-care kids and she could see her daughter’s sparkly angel prominently displayed near the top of the tree. “Mikey’s daddy will drive us home, too.”

      “Yay!” Mikey and Jane cried in unison, then fell into uncontrolled giggles. Faith decided she’d wait until later to tell her daughter about her father. Okay, there wasn’t a good time to hear that devastating news, but for now, she wanted Jane to enjoy the thrill of riding home with her best friend.

      “Can we borrow a car seat?” Pete asked the day-care worker. “I’ll bring it back in the morning.”

      “Sure.” Peggy led the way back to the supply closet. “This is exactly why we keep extras on hand.”

      “Thanks.” He took the car seat and turned to Faith. “Ready?”

      “Yes.”

      “Can Mikey have supper at our house?” Jane asked, as they each dressed their respective kid in snow pants, boots, jackets, hats and mittens. “Please, Mommy?”

      “Oh, I don’t think so.” Faith risked a quick glance at Pete, who was doing an admirable job getting Mikey bundled up for the cold. “It’s late. Maybe another time, hmm?”

      “Daddy, can Jane—” Mikey started, but Pete cut him off.

      “No, son. Didn’t you hear Mrs. Johnson? She said maybe another day.”

      The kids looked forlorn, but then seemed excited to be out in the snow.

      “Let’s make snowballs!” Mikey said as he scooped up some snow in his tiny hands.

      “Okay.” Jane bent down to get snow of her own.

      “Don’t throw it,” Faith warned, as they waited for Pete to get the borrowed car seat secured.

      Too late. Twin mini snowballs hit her at the same time. The kids continued giggling as they quickly scooped up more snow.

      “That’s enough,” Pete said as he stepped away from the car.

      Twin snowballs hit him, too, and he looked so exasperated, Faith had to smile. She hauled Jane into her arms before she could get any more snow and placed her in the car seat. Pete did the same with Mikey.

      “We wanna have a snowball fight when we get home,” Mikey announced.

      “Yeah.” Jane bobbed her head in agreement.

      “We should have known they’d be double the trouble,” Faith muttered under her breath as Pete slid behind the wheel.

      “Makes you appreciate what the day-care teachers have to put up with all day, doesn’t it?” He flashed a grin, and she was struck once again by how handsome he was.

      Which was crazy, because she wasn’t interested in a relationship. Their kids were friends for now, but she knew that would likely change over time. As soon as one of them decided the opposite gender was icky.

      “Which way?” Pete asked, as he waited for the light to turn green.

      “Left.” She pulled her scattered thoughts together with an effort. It was impossible to imagine Logan being involved in anything criminal. He’d hated the fact that she put herself in danger on a daily basis in her quest to protect and serve. It had been one of the many issues in their marriage.

      That and discovering he’d been unfaithful.

      No, this had to be related to one of her cases. Trevor Wilson had threatened to seek revenge against her. Was it possible he’d found Logan and tried to get personal information from her ex? As a cop, her personal information was confidential. Was that why he’d gone after Logan rather than at her?

      Different scenarios filtered through her mind as she gave Pete directions to her home. She was fortunate to have the house she’d inherited from her parents.

      It was home now, and she liked that there was a small backyard for Ricci and Jane. And she was grateful she didn’t have to be in a noisy apartment building.

      Her lights were on timers, so she never had to bring Jane home to a dark house. Normally she was glad for that, but today, just like back at the day care, the Christmas tree visible through the living room window looked too bright and cheery in the wake of Logan’s death.

      “Almost home,” she said to Jane.

      A shadow moving past the window caught Faith’s attention. She rubbed at the fog covering the inside of the window to see better. Had it been her imagination? Her mind playing tricks after the horrifying events of the day?

      “What is it?” Pete asked, picking up on her change in mood.

      “Probably nothing.” Her voice lacked conviction. “Do me a favor and stay in the car for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

      “Wait.” Pete stopped her with his hand. “Don’t go alone.”

      “I’ll take Ricci. Not only is he a good search-and-rescue dog, but he’s incredibly protective, as well.” She pushed open her door. “Stay here with the kids.”

      Without giving him a chance to argue, she closed the door and went around to the back to let Ricci out. She didn’t put him on a leash in case she needed him to help chase a perp.

      She stood in the driveway for a moment, using her flashlight to illuminate the snow-covered postage-stamp-sized front yard. There were clear footprints in the snow, but more than one set, so she couldn’t say for sure that they weren’t the result of neighborhood kids taking a shortcut. Especially since a pair of footprints crossed the next yard to the north, as well.

      Playing her light along the front window in the area where she’d caught a glimpse of the shadow, Faith looked for anything out of the ordinary. At first she didn’t see anything, but then noticed a disturbance on the snow-covered edge of the windowsill.

      “Come, Ricci.” She put one hand on her weapon as she moved closer to the house she’d once shared with Logan. Ricci’s ears were perked forward, his nose quivering as he took in the scents around them.

      Stepping into the footprint marks that were already in the snow, she moved closer to the windowsill. Up close, the disturbance was even more noticeable. It appeared to her as if someone had placed their gloved hand there while leaning closer to see inside.

      Kids? Maybe.

      She panned the flashlight to the ground below, but again, there were too many messy boot prints to differentiate between the ones made by kids or the one made by the shadow.

      Stepping from one set of footprints to the next, she went around the corner to the side window, one that also looked into the living room. Here, too, was the same indentation