Nothing had changed in the past eight and half years. Not here on Lakeview Street.

The house rose like a secular cathedral from the highest point in town, looking down on Lake Tobias. The grounds were precise and polished…and nowhere near as inviting as the Daltons' homey yard next door.

No, nothing had changed at Corbett House.

Zach Corbett found that oddly reassuring.

Reassuring because so much else had changed. What he'd seen of the rest of Tobias, Wisconsin, had included fresh buildings, unfamiliar roads and new businesses. And he'd changed, that was for damn sure.

Odd, because Corbett House — the upright, pristine architectural embodiment of the Corbett Ideal as expounded and practiced by his mother, Lana Corbett — represented the reason he'd left. So how could he feel reassured that it hadn't changed?

Maybe because it meant this might actually be a routine run, like Doc had talked about.

Yeah, right.

Standing in front of the Daltons'home, he stared across the wide lawns to the house where he'd grown up. No, that wasn't true. He hadn't grown up in that house at all. He'd stayed a child there. He hadn't grown up until he'd left.

So why did he even need to be here? He had a life, far from Tobias in more ways than geography. He didn't have anything to prove. Not anymore. If it hadn't been for the old man Miguel —

"Go ahead. Someone will answer if you knock."

Zach remained still, not jolting or overreacting at the unexpectedness of the calm voice. Not reacting at all, except to listen more closely. To try to pinpoint where the voice had come from. The faintest sound co