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doll to Kacie’s own round eyes taking up half her face. “Obviously. What is it?”
    “Daniel Walker’s daughter was clutching this doll when he murdered her.”

Chapter Three
    The doll grinned at her with a mouth that resembled a slash of blood, calling up images of the original doll at the Walker murder scene. Kacie pressed two shaky fingers to the red yarn on the rag doll’s face just to make sure it wasn’t blood.
    “Kacie, what does this mean?”
    She raised her head, her eyes locking onto Ryan’s as he put a steadying hand on her bouncing knee. The gesture had an immediate effect on her and she took a deep breath. She didn’t have to face this alone right now. “Zoe Walker had a doll just like this one. When they found her body, she had one arm wrapped around her doll—this doll.”
    “I remember the doll from your book. This one’s not yours, is it?” He flicked the paper with his fingers.
    “No. This is the first time I’ve seen a doll like this since I saw the original. Someone sent this to me. That homeless guy didn’t find a package outside the hotel. Someone probably paid him to deliver it to this hotel.”
    As a shiver rolled through her body, she pushed the doll from her lap, where it landed on the carpet still cradled in the brown paper.
    “Wait.” Ryan picked up two corners of the wrapping. “This might contain some evidence—fingerprints, hair, clothing fibers.”
    She shifted away from the doll as he placed the package next to her on the cushion and carefully folded the paper around the toy.
    “Do you want to tell me why someone would want to send this particular doll to you?” He sat back on his heels as if he had all night to wait for an explanation.
    She had no intention of making him wait that long. Despite her revulsion toward all things Brody, she couldn’t deny the trust this man fostered in her bones.
    He’d saved her from the sauna. His capable hands, square jaw and broad shoulders signaled stability and security. His green eyes reflected sincerity—when they weren’t darkening to something more like lust, which happened anytime they wandered over her body.
    The fears of the night, beginning with the fratricidal ex-con, flooded her senses, and her pulse rate galloped a mile a minute. She filled her lungs with a deep breath from her nose and expelled it through parted lips to ward off the rising panic and rushing adrenaline.
    “Kacie, are you okay?” Ryan squeezed her knee.
    “Fighting off an anxiety attack.” She pointed to the ceiling. “I’ll tell you all about this doll and who sent it from the comfort of my own room while holding a glass of wine in one hand.”
    “You got it.” He sprang to his feet and held out his hand. “I’ll help you up. One of my officers suffers from panic attacks, and she always gets a little dizzy.”
    She gripped his warm hand and struggled to her feet. “You have a cop working for you who has panic attacks?”
    “Shh.” He held his finger to his lips. “That’s top secret.”
    “But you’re her boss.”
    “That’s right. She’s a good cop. She told me about the attacks and it doesn’t need to go any further—not that I think you’ll go running to the Crestview City Council to report us.”
    Leaning against him, she tilted her head the other way to survey his face. “That’s decent of you.”
    “I have totally selfish reasons. Like I said, she’s a good cop and she makes the department and me look good.”
    She licked her lips. Yeah, he probably likes the way that cop’s backside looks in uniform.
    He kept his hand on her back and the package tucked under his other arm as he guided her toward the elevator. “I think we can skip the stairs this time.”
    As the doors closed, she stepped away from his warmth and wedged her shoulder against the cold mirror inside the car. “This has been quite a day—full of shocks and surprises.”
    She counted among those shocks and surprises her immediate attraction to Ryan