There was so much Cary didn’t know about him and so little she did know.

Mike had told her things about himself, but could she believe them? Was he always secretive and on guard with everyone, even lying to her? On the lakefront in New Orleans, when they had been searching for her mother’s killer, he had appeared candid—to be honest with her.

He had said he was hiding from people who wanted him dead. Obviously, someone had tried to kill him, but was that the only one. Who would know, other than Webster? Maybe his boss, Jack Robbins? But she couldn’t just call and ask.

Not even knowing where he had gone when he left her on Sunday was a bit of a problem. Having these almost erotic dreams couldn’t be overlooked, either.

If she could talk about the situation, perhaps that would help. But who would listen and give her an honest opinion? Probably not Rita. Besides, her friend was taking some time away from the office after her kidnapping. Poor Rita! Thanks to the Hunter, she had been raked through the fires of Hades, yet she had come out smiling on the other side.

Then Cary thought of the perfect person to help her. She picked up her iPhone and scanned the contacts, picking the one individual who really could help. Cary dialed the number.

“Hello?”

Though old in years, the voice on the other end of the line had wisdom beyond everyone Cary had ever known. And she would listen, Cary knew that.

“Landie, I need your help,” she said. “May I come and visit you this weekend?”