"But—" Meg shook her head with vehemence. "That was ten years ago. I don't understand how anyone could dislike another person so much, they'd hold a grudge for ten years."

  "And maybe we're on the wrong track entirely. Maybe it has nothing to do with her. But the reason I'm putting restrictions on you, princess, is for your safety, regardless of where the threat comes from." He took her face into his hands. "Do you understand the reason?"

  She lowered her gaze, and in response, he lifted her face higher. "Answer me."

  Meg licked her lips. "What if I say I don't?"

  He kept his voice stern. "It won't matter. The restrictions will still be there, along with consequences for disobeying, and I can promise you they'll be stiff. I'm serious about this, Megan."

  She met his gaze. "I understand."

  "Then repeat them back to me."

  A pouty little mouth followed, and she frowned, as if trying to remember.

  "Don't make plans without consulting you."

  "And?"

  "If they call and you aren't there, write it down. If you are, bring the phone close enough so you can hear."

  "Good. Three more."

  "If I have to leave the clinic, call you, and if you can't go, take Nikki with me."

  "Right."

  "And take my glasses with me. And my phone."

  "And make sure—"

  "It's set to vibrate as well as ring."

  "Good girl. If you keep all those, I'll feel better about you."

  She was silent a moment, and he was unprepared for it when she threw both arms around his neck a few seconds later.

  "Thank you, Matt," she whispered, burying her face into his neck.

  "For?"

  "For being so concerned about what happens to me. I know I complain sometimes, but inside, I really do love you for it."

  He tightened his arms around her fiercely. "I love you too, princess," he said into her ear. "And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if that means taking my hand to your delightful little bottom to insure it."

  Meg had just returned from Matt's office the next Thursday afternoon, when Scott stuck his head out of his office.

  "Nicole? Did you tell her what color it is now?"

  Meg turned, staring. "What color what is now?"

  "The lion," Nikki answered. "It went from pink to black. Now, it's gold."

  Meg rolled her eyes. "When did that happen?"

  "I didn't see it until this morning. Scott and I stayed inside and had sex all weekend—"

  "Nicole!"

  Nikki put a hand to her mouth. "Oops."

  Scott's head disappeared back inside.

  Nikki leaned forward. "I wasn't supposed to say that in public," she whispered.

  Meg's hand was over her own mouth, trying to suppress laughter and failing. She took off for the bathroom until she could manage control. When she returned, Nikki was gathering up the charts to file away.

  "Anyway, what I started to say was we didn't go by Heather's house all weekend, and this week, we've gone a different route back and forth to work, until this morning. So it was the first time I've noticed it. It could have been a different color during that time, and we might not have known it."

  Meg frowned. "I thought about calling Heather and asking her about the colors."

  But Nikki was shaking her head vigorously. "I thought about it too, but Scott said no. He's worried that Heather will want to get us all together again. And now that some of us are missing…" She turned away as her voice became nonexistent.

  The phone rang, and Meg reached over to pick it up.

  "Dr. Stone's office, how—"

  "Meg, it's Mason Wallace. Is Scott there?"

  "Yes, sir. Hold on, please."

  "Who was that?" Nikki's face was serious suddenly.

  "Lieutenant Wallace." Meg frowned. "It sounded sober."

  Scott erupted from his office a few minutes later. "Nicole. Meg. Come in here." He nodded toward Meg. "I've called Matt. He should be here about—" he paused, glancing at his watch.

  "Now," Matt's voice came from the doorway, closing the door to the hallway behind him. "Mason's on his way."

  Meg eyed the stack of charts on Scott's desk with messages attached. "Should we make some patient calls while we're waiting?"

  A knock on the door brought their eyes upward toward it. Scott rose and opened it. "Come in."

  Mason Wallace stepped inside and closed it behind him. Staring from one to the other, he spoke in a deep, authoritative voice. "We received a call a while ago from the husband of Melanie Jenkins. She's been missing since yesterday afternoon. We need to put both of you into hiding, and right now, the best place I know of is my place."

  Nikki gulped. "But we have patients scheduled tomorrow."

  Mason shook his head. "Your husbands will have to make the decisions about what to do, but I strongly advise you two not to be here."

  "Wait," Meg added, her voice incredulous. "She was missing since yesterday? Why didn't he call then?"

  "We asked him that. He said he'd been waiting on a call for her ransom, but it didn't come."

  Matt pulled Meg down into his lap. "And why would he be expecting a call for ransom money?"

  Mason leveled a gaze at him. "Because it's not the first time someone has threatened to kidnap her. Jenkins has money, but he certainly doesn't use it to pay his debts."

  Meg was shaking her head. "We can't just take off and leave the office without staff," she said softly.

  "You can," Matt growled, over her head. Reaching for Scott's phone, he punched a button.

  "Scheduling," said a voice.

  "Dr. Hart. I won't be in my office tomorrow, and next week's patients need to be rescheduled. After that, I'll let you know." His brows rose as he looked toward Scott, who nodded. "Hold on, Rayann. Please." He handed the phone to Scott, who echoed what he'd just said and turned to Mason.

  Scott frowned. "Are you sure you have room?"

  "Absolutely. The house belonged to Stacy's parents, and it's plenty big enough."

  "We can bring groceries. We'll drop Meg and Nikki by this afternoon, and Scott and I will go grocery shopping."

  Scott's brows rose. "I don't know how to grocery shop."

  Matt stared across at him. "Time you learned, buddy. I go with Meg all the time. Mason, we'll pick up the list when we drop the girls off."

  "I'll call Stacy and ask. But I'll be surprised if she hasn't already been shopping." Mason reached into his pocket for his phone and punched in a series of buttons.

  "Babe? They're coming. And their husbands said they'll go grocery shopping as soon as…" He paused and smiled. "I'll tell them. See you soon." When he disconnected, he nodded. "She's already on her way back to the house. You're welcome, anytime. And, there's no need to go shopping. Told you."

  Meg held up a hand. "Nikki and I need to contact patients before we leave here today." When Mason shook his head, she spoke up, determined. "No, sir. The patients need to be notified of their test results before we disappear," she paused, grimacing at the word, "for a week. It's not fair to make them wait." She reached for the stack of notes at the edge of the desk.

  Matt spoke, over her head. "She's right. It's only courtesy."

  Nikki put out a hand. "Give me half, Meg. I'll help."

  Mason stood and began to pace as Matt moved to the door. "I'll go back and close up and let my nurses know I won't be there tomorrow. Be right back."

  Scott helped by taking a stack of them and going out into the hall to call.

  "After all, they're my patients," he called on his way out.

  Chapter 11

  "Please come in," Stacy greeted them at the side door. Mason had insisted on leaving his car outside so the four of them in the same car could come in and bring their belongings for a few days. She held up a hand before any of them could speak. "First, I'm delighted for you to be here, so save the crap about imposing on me." A grin spread across her face. "Second, if you want to help with funding the groceries, that's fine, but I'll do the shopping. Some of my dishes are gourmet, and you'd probably never be able to find the ingredients. Third," she motioned them inside, "make yourself at home. The refrigerator is yours, too. And let me show you where the groceries are in the pantry so you can help yourself."

  Scott stopped inside. "Yes, ma'am," he said, grinning. "I'm always eager to know where the groceries are."

  Nikki smacked him in the chest. "Such a gracious hostess; such a greedy guest. Ignore him, Stacy. And, yes, we can't thank you enough for taking us in."

  Meg nodded. "Exactly, Stacy. We'll do anything we can to help. Clean house, take out trash, laundry, whatever."

  Stacy laughed. "I may take you up on it. The thing is I'm being a little selfish. Mason's been so concerned when one after another in the smashing seven went missing, and his workload has become immense. If you're here, something might just come up that would help solve the case. And it will keep him here more." She leaned forward. "But don't tell him I said all that. He thinks I'm just being generous."

  "And he's right," Matt announced. "Stacy, if you'll tell us where to put these things, we'll get them out of your way."

  "Yes," She turned toward the stairs. "I'm putting you and Meg in the attic bedroom for privacy. And Dr. Stone, you and Nikki will go in the basement. We'll each have our own floors."

  "Lead the way."

  A moment later, Matt watched Meg as she laid the garment bag on the king-sized bed and opened it. As he helped to put things away in the highboy, he paused.

  She sighed, turning to face him. "I hate this."

  He stared at her a moment, before moving toward her and putting both hands around her waist. As he brought her to him, he said quietly, "Listen to me, princess. I know you do. But Mason is right. This accomplishes two things, and the most important of them is to put you out of reach of the person who's doing this. The second is it might make them realize we're on to them. It might—and I'm not saying it will—make them think twice about continuing."

  "But it does put added responsibility on Stacy. And I hate being away from home."

  "If the four of us keep our part of the bargain and work to help out, Stacy's load might actually be lightened. And I like the fact that we're all the way up here. I can still make love to you the way we always do. And if I need to discipline you, I can do that, too."

  She grinned. "I could scream, you know."

  He raised a brow. "And when was the last time you screamed during a spanking?"

  Her mouth turned down in a pout. "Never, but—"

  "Then I don't expect you'll start now. If I thought so, I might consider putting a gag in your mouth, but I don't. Now, don't misunderstand me, my darling girl, if you get out of line, I won't hesitate to bring you up here and take the paddle to your gorgeous little butt. Hear me?"

  Her eyes widened. "You brought it from home?" she squeaked.

  Matt reached down into the suitcase with one hand and, a second later, brought up the long wooden paddle he occasionally used on her. Holding it up, his voice dropped an octave. "Does this answer your question?"

  Meg gulped, eyeing the paddle with distaste. "Yes," she whispered, bringing her eyes up to meet his. He recognized that look—not one of fear but of submission.

  "Good." He set the paddle down on the bed. Turning her away from him and bending her over the end of the footboard, he tugged down her pants and underpants at once.

  "Matt? What are you doing?"

  "Just letting you know I'm serious." With one hand on the small of her back, he planted three hard smacks on her bottom before dropping the paddle back into the suitcase.

  With a whimper, she reached back to rub, and he moved her hands, placing his over her bottom and beginning soothing circles to ease away the sting. "Remember that."

  "I'll remember," she whispered. When her arms reached around his waist, he pulled her to him tightly, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "As much as I'd like to take you to bed right now, I suppose we'd better get downstairs and make our faces seen."

  She nodded. "I'll learn to help in the kitchen, too. Hopefully, I can become good at making some of her recipes."

  "Ah. I like the sound of that. Ready?"

  Meg emptied out the last of the cosmetics from the garment bag and zipped it shut. Handing it to him, she waited until he put it in the closet with the case.

  "Ready."

  "Good girl. Let's go."

  Meg was helping to put away the dishes after supper when she heard Matt's phone ring. He and Mason and Scott were gathered in the living room. She stuck her head around the corner as he answered.

  "Matt Hart."

  There was a pause. His glance toward the kitchen immediately met with Meg's worried face. He frowned, moving his gaze back downward. "I see. What's going on?"

  There was a silence, and Meg moved silently into the room to join him. He leaned down so she could hear the other side of the conversation. It was Pierce Hicks, the coroner.

  "Heather heard the news on the radio about Melanie Jenkins being missing. I wanted to make sure you'd heard it. This makes four out of their group, so far. Heather's scared to death to leave the house. And yet, she'd like to talk to Nikki and Meg, to make sure they're all right."

  Matt's voice was reassuring. "They're both fine and safe; you can reassure her of it. Please, tell her to be extremely careful. She's probably right not to leave the house."

  There was a pause at the other end. "I agree. Thanks, Matt. If Meg gets a chance, you might ask her to call Heather."

  To Meg's surprise, he didn't immediately agree. A second later, he said, "I'll be sure and tell her. And, how are you? All right, I hope."

  Pierce's voice had a ring of defeat to it. "I'll be better after all this is over and the police catch whoever is responsible for this. I'm afraid to take my eyes off Heather for an instant. Thanks, Matt."

  They said goodbye, and Meg looked up into her husband's face. "Should I call her?"

  Matt studied her face for a long moment. "I don't know. Let me think on it, okay, princess?"

  She scowled. "Okay." Moving back into the kitchen, she met Nikki's expression of curiosity with a shake of her head. "It's Heather's husband. He wants us to call her, but Matt says to wait."

  "Why?"

  Meg's voice held a tone of irritation. "I don't know. He's full of restrictions these days."

  "Meg?" Matt's voice came from the great room, and she rolled her eyes, leaning back to look around the corner.

  "Yes?"

  Matt met her eyes with a glint of warning. "Mason said no. It's not a good idea."

  Meg's only answer was to nod.

  "Nikki? Did you hear that?" It was Scott.

  Nikki picked up another plate to dry it. "I heard."

  Stacy glanced from Meg to Nikki. "Sorry," she whispered.

  "No, it's all right." Meg smiled. "I was having trouble trying to figure out what to tell her if she asked where we were."

  "It's probably better if she doesn't know," Stacy commented. "If someone were to get hold of her—" she broke off, suddenly, and turned away with a sigh. "I'm so sorry. I hate this for you both."

  Meg threw her arms around Stacy, hugging her. "Oh, Stacy. You're the heroine in all this, by opening up your heart and your home to protect us. We'll never be able to thank you enough."

  It was Wednesday of the following week. Meg, Nikki, and Stacy had spent the days in front of the television when they weren't cleaning or cooking, watching for news of Mellie, Hannah, Amber, and possibly news on Chelsea's murder. Matt had put his foot down and declared Meg needed to limit her time in front of it. It was doing her no good, and her anxiousness was escalating. When Mason and Scott agreed, they cut it to a couple of times a day for news reports.

  Mason turned to Stacy Thursday night, a curious expression on his face. "I have a question, babe. Do you still have the yearbooks from high school?"

  "Somewhere around here. Why?"

  "If you know where they are, bring them, would you?"

  "Sure." She nodded toward Meg and Nikki. "I might need your help finding them. I think they're in a box in one of the extra rooms in the attic."

  They left to follow, and Matt glanced at Mason. "If they don't find it, I know where Meg's are. I could go and get them. She got them out a few months ago when the class reunion was approaching."

  "I may ask you. I don't think Stacy's had hers out since we married. At least, I've never seen them." He watched them disappear up the stairs and said quietly, "The main reason I asked was to get them away from the TV for a while."

  Matt stared at him. "Why? Have you heard something?"

  "No. Just grasping at straws."

  "Nikki, do you want to look through this one? Meg, how about this one?" Stacy was shoving boxes toward each of them. "The light in here isn't the best, but if we see we're on the right track, we can cart them down. I think they might be in the same boxes with the cap and gown and stuff. And somewhere there are some pictures, but I don't know if they're in the same box as the yearbooks."

  Meg pulled the top off the box and stared down into it. There were costumes; one, with angel's wings, and one that resembled a pilgrim's dress and a bonnet that went with it. "You must have been active in drama."

  Stacy glanced over, and Meg tilted the box to face her. "Yep. That would have been my tenth-grade year. We did The Crucible, and I played the role of Goody nurse." She laughed. "It was the best role in the play. I think I had a total of four lines, and everyone talked about what a nice person I was through the rest of it." She paused. "What else is in there?"

  "Angel wings and a…" Meg reached down further. "A blue skirt and slippers. And some netting. That's all."

  "Okay. Try this one, then." Stacy shoved another one over, and Meg began folding up the lid to the first.

  The second one contained a cheerleading uniform. "I didn't know you were a cheerleader," Nikki exclaimed.

  "That was junior high," Stacy rolled her eyes. "I was such a klutz; I can't believe they even let me on the squad."

 

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