DAXTON

There was no attacker in sight. Not even a bullet. Still, I was so sure I'd heard a gunshot. Before I could dwell on this thought for much longer, Sallie rushed out into the garden with a yellow umbrella and a soaked paper in her hand.

She handed it over to me, her brows furrowed deeply with worry.

"Someone placed it by the window in the kitchen. There was no break-in, though," she said, placing the umbrella over my head. Written on the damp paper with black ink were the ...