Chapter One

      Mallory Dickinson had vowed years ago that she’d never return to Brighton Valley. But here she was, back in town, listening to the empty moving van pull away from the curb of her newly rented home on a quiet, tree-lined street. One nice thing about the neighborhood was that it wasn’t far from the Brighton Valley Medical Center, where her grandfather, a recently retired minister, was hospitalized.

      Alice Reilly, who worked part-time at the church, lived across the street. As luck would have it, the kindhearted woman had been the one to find her grandfather unconscious and to call paramedics. She’d also contacted Mallory and let her know how seriously ill he was. And then, last week, when Alice had learned that the house in her neighborhood was available for rent, she’d called both Mallory and the landlord, setting her cross-country move into motion.

      As Mallory studied the small living room, thinking of all the unpacking she had to do, a bark sounded behind her, followed by a couple of bumps, a thump and a swoosh.

      She turned to the front door, which apparently the movers had failed to shut tightly when they left, just as a big dog with muddy feet rushed into the house and skidded to a stop in front of her.

      “Hey!” she said. “You don’t belong in here.”

      The goofy mutt looked friendly enough, so she reached for its blue collar in an attempt to take it outside before it could track any more mud across the hardwood floor. But she’d no more than skimmed her fingers along the fur on its neck when the mutt jerked to the left, bumping a table with its rump and knocking over her grandmother’s antique crystal vase filled with the yellow roses Alice had brought over as a welcome gift an hour earlier.

      She winced at the shattered glass, the scattered flowers and the puddle of water on the hardwood floor, as well as the smeared muddy paw prints.

      The vase, along with several other valuables and breakables, had been packed in a box marked Priority. She’d opened it immediately upon the van’s arrival to make sure the movers hadn’t broken any of the contents.

      They hadn’t, of course. And when Alice had brought the flowers...

      But she quickly shut out her reason for setting out something so precious, so valuable, so soon, and shifted her focus to the dog that now headed toward the stairway.

      Before she could protest or curse the negligent pet owner who’d let the animal run loose, especially after a spring rain had dumped nearly an inch of water overnight, the critter took off upstairs, its dirty feet undoubtedly tracking up the new beige carpet.

      “No!” she yelled. “Don’t go up there. You come back here. Now!”

      Before she could dash after the darn mutt, a man’s voice sounded behind her. “Excuse me, but did a dog just run in here?”

      Mallory spun around, ready to give the dog’s owner a piece of her mind—and to tell him that he owed her the cost of cleaning the carpet—until her gaze met a familiar face.

      Rick Martinez?

      Her breath caught, and her jaw must