The Widow in the Bodyguard's Bed

My husband drowned in our lake and his stepbrother pulled him out of it. Jonas Whitfield was gone before the ambulance arrived, and I did not see him again for eleven months. Now three letters have arrived at my house, each one signed with my husband's initials, and the family has hired me a bodyguard. It's Jonas. He has Royal Marine hands, a dead brother, and no questions for me at all, which is how I know he already knows. Because the police never asked about the four minutes I stood at the end of the dock and did nothing. Jonas was watching from the boat ramp the entire time. He lied for me and then he left. Whoever is sending the letters buried a fraud my husband was about to expose, and the man is going to burn this house down before he lets it get to probate. Jonas and I are going to have to survive it together, and then we are going to have to live in a house that should be haunted.