Bo didn’t relax. He was expecting Ms. Cooper, just not this soon. And not with that van following him.

“Tell our visitor I’ll get there as soon as I can,” Bo explained to Rosalie. “And if anyone else calls or comes by, get in touch with me immediately.”

“You’re scaring me, Bo. What’s going on?”

“I’ll explain it all when I get there. Right now, I just want to take a few precautions and make sure you and the kids are safe.”

He clicked End Call and was about to call for backup before he stopped the van and confronted whomever was inside, but he realized that wouldn’t be necessary. The van made a right turn, off the main highway, and disappeared down a side street.

Bo blew out a long breath and wanted to dismiss the incident as mild paranoia on his part, but something in his gut told him he had reason for concern. After twelve years of being a cop, the one thing he’d learned was to trust his gut.

He pressed a little harder on the accelerator while he kept watch around him, to make sure that van didn’t resurface. It didn’t. Bo made the turn into his neighborhood without any sign of it or any other suspicious vehicle. However, in front of his ranch-style house there was an unfamiliar two-door blue Ford.

Ms. Cooper’s probably.

He would quickly answer his prospective neighbor’s questions and send her on her way.

Rosalie met him at the door that led from the garage and into the laundry room. Oh, yes. She was concerned. Normally, Rosalie was cool and calm under pressure. But Bo saw the stress, and the tenseness only accented the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

“Everything okay?” Rosalie asked.

“Yeah. How are the kids?”

“Fine. They’re playing in the nursery.” She glanced down at the monitor she held in her hand. She carried it with her whenever she wasn’t with the twins so she would be able to hear them no matter where she was in the house. “So, why did I have to make sure the doors and windows were locked?”

“I thought this black van was following me. I was wrong.” Bo kept it at that, but Rosalie’s raised eyebrows let him know that she would want to discuss this further. “Where’s our guest?”

“Living room.”

Bo headed in that direction, and he kept his jacket on so that it would shield his shoulder holster and gun. Best not to alarm Ms. Cooper in case she was squeamish about such things.

He found her just where Rosalie said she would be. Not seated, but standing by the limestone fireplace, where she was looking at a framed photo. He’d forgotten the photo was there, but then he rarely went into this room. Heck, for that matter, he rarely had guests. Between fatherhood and his job, there wasn’t much time for anything else.

Madeline Cooper turned. Their eyes met, and Bo made a split-second cop’s assessment of her. Tall, about five-nine. Average build. Shoulder-length, straight brown hair. Green eyes. A full mouth. Very little makeup, just a touch of pink color on her lips. She wore matching olive-green pants and a sweater. The outfit was nondescript. Definitely not flashy.

She was not a woman who wanted to draw attention to herself.

But something about her caught Bo’s attention.

“Do I know you?” he immediately asked.

“No.” Her answer was immediate, as well. Maybe too immediate.

“You look …” Bo didn’t know where to go with that. Several things came to mind, including, much to his surprise, that she looked damn attractive. But what also came to mind was that she was “… familiar.”

“Oh.” It was her only response.

Bo was ready to launch into more questions, but his phone rang. He pulled it from his jacket pocket and looked at the screen. It was Sergeant Garrett O’Malley from headquarters.

“Please excuse me a second. I need to take this call. Duggan,” he answered after his guest nodded.

“I ran the license plate on that black van you thought might be following you,” O’Malley informed him. “It must be fake. No record of it.”

Hell. That was not what Bo wanted to hear. “What about the van itself—was it stolen?”

“That’s my guess. I checked, and there were two black vans reported stolen in the last twenty-four hours.”

Bo didn’t like that, either. “Keep digging. Try to locate that vehicle. And call me if you find out anything else.” He kept his instructions vague since he had an audience nearby. Madeline Cooper seemed to be hanging on his every word.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, her forehead bunched up.

“No problem.” At best, that was a hopeful remark. At worst, a lie.

He might not know which was the truth for a while.

Bo walked closer, studying her and trying to figure out why bells the size of Texas were going off in his head.

“You have a lovely home,” she commented. She folded her arms over her chest and tipped her head to the photo on the mantel. “That’s your wife?”

Bo glanced at the photo of Nadine. She sported a grin from ear to ear, because that picture had been taken the day she learned she was pregnant.