Chapter 1

Cricket’s life was in danger.

Who would want to hurt my four-year-old granddaughter? Why?

I lost everything in last night’s fire. Except for her, my backpack, her favorite blanket, the clothes on our backs, and the shoes on our feet. And whatever was in my car. That was it. Everything else was gone, so I’d had no choice but to ask for their help. It was embarrassing to have to do it again, but it wasn’t just me this time. I’d do whatever was necessary to keep my granddaughter safe.

After a mostly sleepless night in the most secure hotel in town, I buckled my little bug into her booster seat.

“Where are we going?” Cricket asked.

“To the park.”

“Yay, the park!”

This child was always happy, despite the tragedies that had struck her young life recently. Probably because she was too young to really understand.

Including red lights, it took less than five minutes to get there. Which gave me time to wonder what had started the fire. Or more accurately, what had started the fires? There were two of them. One in my bedroom at the back of the house and another in the garage at the front of the house.

Also, why had I parked on the street last night? I never parked on the street. If I hadn’t, I would have lost my little twelve-year-old hatchback. It could have been an instinct. More likely, my power had kicked in.

“Who is that?” Cricket asked as we crossed the expanse of lush green grass at the park. She stretched her hand and pointed at the gray-haired man in the forest-green anorak.

“His name is Jasper.”

He looked so old. His hair was white gray now, his back hunched, and he looked smaller than I remembered. When had that happened? I couldn’t help but smile when I spotted the binoculars hanging from his neck. No surprise there. It also wasn’t a surprise to see him holding an open book in one hand—surely a guide to the birds of southwestern Wisconsin—while patting his jacket pockets, pants pockets, and then the side of his head with his free hand.