Dangerous Deception
Beverly Barton

To “The Children” and their playground monitor:

Kira Bazzel, Kim Kerr, Andrea Laurence,

Marilyn Puett and Danniele Worsham.

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

I SWEAR I’ LL FIND YOU .

Lausanne Raney ran the tip of her index finger over the blurry photograph, her touch gentle, almost reverent. Ten years ago, she had snapped this picture through the glass window that shielded the hospital nursery from the outside world. A thin barrier between her and her newborn daughter.

You have to know that I did what I thought was best for you. I was seventeen, with nobody who cared if I lived or died and not a cent to my name.

If she had it to do over again, would she still give her baby up for adoption? Pressing the snapshot to her breast, Lausanne clenched her teeth. She didn’t cry anymore. She hadn’t cried in years. Tears were useless. Self pity served no purpose.

Yes. The answer was yes. If circumstances were the same, then she’d still give away her child.

She’d known then, as she knew now, that allowing some childless couple to adopt her daughter had given the baby her only chance for a decent life.

Yeah, just look what a mess I’ve made of my life. If I’d kept you, I’d have screwed you up something awful. I couldn’t do that to you, sweet baby.

Lausanne placed the photograph back in the small box that contained only two other items. A tiny gold cross attached to a necklace that had belonged to her mother and Lausanne’s GED certificate that she had earned while serving five years in the state penitentiary.

But that was then. This is now. She had served her time, paid her debt to society. And God help her, she had learned her lesson. She couldn’t trust anybody, couldn’t depend on anyone but herself, didn’t dare risk falling in love again. Her track record with men sucked. Her first love had left her alone and pregnant. But that was nothing compared to lover number two. He’d robbed a convenience store while she waited in the car, oblivious to what he was doing. But in the eyes of the law, she had been his accomplice.

Lausanne closed the lid on the small box, then crossed the bedroom of her two-room apartment in Chattanooga, stood on tiptoe and slid the box onto the top shelf in her tiny closet.

She wasn’t going to live in a dump like this forever. One day, she’d have a nice place, a new car and pretty clothes. Someday. After she found out where her little girl was. While she’d been in the pen, she’d made herself two promises. One: When she got out, she’d work hard and build a good life for herself. Two: She’d find out where her daughter was and make sure she was well and happy and with a good family.

Lausanne checked her appearance in the cracked full-length mirror attached to the front of the closet door with rusty metal hinges. The entire outfit had cost her sixty bucks, but on her, the clothes looked more expensive. She had a knack for mixing and matching, for coordinating, for copying the styles she saw in magazines but using off-the-rack items from discount stores.

Today was step one in her plan to fulfill those promises to herself. Today she would begin a new job as a receptionist at Bedell, Inc. No more waitress jobs for her. And just as she’d been doing for the past six months when she’d been scratching by on minimum wage, part of each paycheck would go into a fund to hire a private agency to help her find her daughter.

CHAPTER ONE

SAWYER MC NAMARA , the CEO of the Dundee Private Security and Investigation Agency, handed the three agents congregated at the table in the conference room separate file folders. As he took his seat at the head of the table, he glanced at each person, his gaze lingering on Lucie Evans. As if sensing his intense scrutiny, Lucie looked up and glared at their boss.

“What?” she asked, her tone combative.

Sawyer shrugged. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, Evans?”

Bristling, Lucie frowned, then growled deep in her throat.

Nothing new there, Dom Shea thought. Any conversation between Sawyer and Lucie started and ended as a battle of wills. The two mixed like oil and water. And the entire Dundee staff couldn’t figure out why Lucie was still a Dundee employee. Why hadn’t she quit long ago? Or better yet, why hadn’t Sawyer fired her? Who knew? Dom sure as hell didn’t want to get in the middle of anything. He’d actually dated Lucie a few times. They’d had fun, but from the get-go, it had been apparent that there weren’t any real sexual sparks between them, so they’d settled for being friends. Dom wasn’t friends with Sawyer. He respected his boss. Liked the guy. Even admired him. But Sawyer McNamara kept a definite distance between himself and his agents.

“I’m sending y’all out on new assignments today,” Sawyer said. “Read over the files I’ve given you, and if you have any questions, now’s the time to ask. And if for any reason somebody wants to swap an assignment with another agent—think twice. I chose each of you specifically for the job I assigned to you.”

They all understood that was Sawyer’s way of saying, if you don’t want the job I’ve assigned you, tough shit.

Dom opened the file folder—a rather thick dossier that included numerous copies of newspaper photos and articles as well as snapshots. The words Bedell, Inc. jumped off the pages at him. In the Southeast, the name Bedell was synonymous with old money. Generations of multi-millionaires accumulating wealth had made the current head of the family a billionaire. The original Edward Bedell, who’d settled in Tennessee before the War Between the States, had made his fortune with the railroad and later diversified. The current Edward Bedell’s holdings covered a wide span of business interests worldwide—everything from real estate and construction to pharmaceutical sales and research. But the Bedell, Inc. headquarters was based in Chattanooga where the chairman of the board lived. Edward personally oversaw the day-to-day running of his family’s corporation.

After flipping through the photos, Dom paused on a wedding picture from the Chattanooga Times Free Press dated six years ago. Audrey Bedell and Grayson Perkins. The golden couple. Studying the picture, Dom wasn’t sure who was the prettiest, Audrey or her groom. Perkins had model perfect good looks that proclaimed him too gorgeous to be a man.

“You’re sending me back to England!” Lucie pounded her fist on the table. Only once. But once was enough to shake the table and startle everyone in the room. Everyone except Sawyer, who narrowed his gaze smugly. The corners of his mouth tilted upward ever so slightly in a hint of a self-satisfied smile.

“Is there a problem with your taking this assignment in London?” Sawyer asked.

Squaring her shoulders and sitting up straight as a board, Lucie glowered at him, her henna brown eyes wide with indignation. “I spent the past two months in London and have had exactly five days downtime. From the initial report I read—” she tapped her index finger on the file folder “—I could easily be in London for another couple of months.”

“Possibly longer,” Sawyer replied.

Lucie gritted her teeth. “You could send Geoff Monday. He’s a Brit and I’d think he’d jump at the chance to go home for a while.”

“Geoff is busy on another assignment. Besides, you’ll be guarding Mr. Smirnov’s wife and children for the duration of his stay in London. He specifically requested a female agent. At present, that’s you, Ms. Evans.”

“Fine.” Lucie gathered up the contents of the file, stuffed them back into the folder, then shot up out of her chair. “I’ll check in with Daisy if I need anything.” She jerked her shoulder bag off the back of the chair and marched straight to the door, then opened it and paused momentarily. After shooting Sawyer a bird, she left the office and slammed the door behind her.

Acting as if nothing had happened, as if one of his employees hadn’t blatantly showed her disrespect, Sawyer glanced from Dom to Deke Bronson. “Finish looking over the files I gave you and if you have any questions—”

“No questions,” Deke replied in a gut-deep, gravely voice that so perfectly matched his road-hard-and-put-away-wet appearance. “I think my assignment is pretty cut and dried. No need for any lengthy explanations.”

Sawyer nodded. “Call me personally as soon as you get to California and speak to Berger. Putting his personal staff of bodyguards through the Dundee training sessions is a six-week deal, one that will make Dundee’s a great deal of money. I’m sending you because you’re the most intimidating-looking agent I have. Berger’s hard ass staff will take one look at you and obey orders.”

Expressionless, Bronson nodded.

After Deke left the room, Sawyer turned to Dom. “I assume you have questions.”

“A few,” Dom said. “First, am I handling this case alone or—”

“You’ll go in alone…initially. If you need backup, I’ll arrange it. And all of Dundee’s resources will be available, as usual.”

Dom tapped the file folder. “Why hasn’t he called in the Chattanooga PD on this? If my daughter were missing—”

“That’s just it,” Sawyer said. “He’s not one-hundred percent sure she’s actually missing. It’s just that no one has seen or heard from her in over a week.”

“I’d call that missing.”

“I agree…if Audrey Bedell Perkins was your average woman.”

“Which she isn’t.”

“That’s right,” Sawyer agreed.

“So what does Daddy Moneybags think happened to his daughter? And what does her hubby think?”

“Bedell told me that at first he feared she’d been kidnapped, but there hasn’t been either a ransom note or a phone call. He then assumed she’d gone off on one of her spur-of-the-moment trips.”

Dom eyed his boss speculatively.

“Mrs. Perkins is not the faithful type. Occasionally, she goes on vacation with her latest lover.”

“What does Mr. Perkins think about that?” Dom asked.

“I have no idea, but you’ll get a chance to ask him when you interview members of the family.”

“Not your typical all-American household.”

Sawyer chuckled, the sound little more than a muted grunt. “Hardly.”

Glancing at the file, Dom said, “Billionaire father, Edward. Spoiled-brat, thirty-year-old playgirl daughter, Audrey, who is missing. The fourth Mrs. Bedell, who is only a few years older than Bedell’s daughters. Cara Bedell, younger daughter and half sister to Audrey. And last but not least, the blue blood hubby, Grayson Perkins.”

“You have a mystery to solve,” Sawyer said. “If it begins to look like more than a rich bitch deliberately putting a few more gray hairs in Daddy’s head, contact Lieutenant Desmond of the Chattanooga PD. He’s the man you’ll want on this case if things turn nasty.”

Dom nodded. “You think somebody killed Audrey Perkins?”

“From the initial report we compiled on the lady, I think it’s possible that there are quite a few people who would like to see her dead.”

“HONESTLY , EDWARD , I don’t see why you thought it necessary to hire a private detective to find Audrey.” Patrice smoothed her hand over her neatly coiffed dark hair, styled and colored to perfection. Everything about Patrice Whitmore Bedell screamed I’m rich. “It’s not as if she hasn’t gone off on these little jaunts before.”

Cara despised her stepmother. Tall, leggy, bosomy. And young. Far too young for her father. A gold-digging whore who had stroked the high and mighty Edward Bedell’s sizeable ego and sucked his aging dick. Cara wondered how much of either the stroking or the sucking occurred now that Patrice was Mrs. Bedell.

Edward swirled the bourbon around in his glass, then glared at his wife. His fourth wife. Audrey’s mother, wife number one, had been the love of their father’s life. Unfortunately, Annaliese Bedell had died in a automobile accident when Audrey was barely two. Four years after his wife’s death, he’d remarried. Wife number two had been Cara’s mother and Edward had married Sandra Gilley only because she was pregnant. The marriage lasted until Cara was a year old, then ended in a bitter divorce. A couple of years later, her mother had committed suicide. Wife number three had come along when Audrey was twelve and Cara six, and that one had lasted ten years. Norah Lee had tried to be a mother to them. She’d failed miserably. And she’d also failed just as miserably in her three attempts to give Edward another child, praying each time to carry the child full term and praying just as hard that the baby would be a boy. She’d miscarried twice—both girls. And gave birth to a stillborn son.

Three years ago, Daddy dearest had brought home a new bride—the stepmother from hell. It hadn’t mattered so much to Audrey because she and Grayson had their own home and didn’t have to live under the same roof as that woman. Cara supposed that at twenty-four, she should have her own place, but some lingering hope deep inside her kept her here, at the Bedell mansion, close to a father who was usually indifferent to her. He’d provided for her, given her everything money could buy, but he’d never loved her. Not the way he loved Audrey. And more than anything on earth, she wanted her father to love her.

She had grown up in awe of her big sister, wanting desperately to be just like her. That, of course, had been impossible. Where Audrey was small-boned and slender, almost delicate in appearance, with a mane of fiery red hair and a temper to match, Cara was a rawboned, freckled, strawberry-blond. Audrey was the life of the party, the center of attention, a great beauty like her mother. Cara tended to be a wallflower, quiet and reserved and looked far more like their father.

“Audrey has never stayed away more than a week without letting me know where she was,” Edward said in a low, steady voice. “She would never intentionally worry me…worry any of us. Gray and Cara both feel certain something is terribly wrong and that we should search for Audrey.”

Edward downed the last drops of liquor then handed the glass to Jeremy, his minion. Or at least that’s the way Cara had always thought of her father’s servant-of-all trades—chauffeur, butler, personal assistant. Jeremy Loman possessed the appearance of a nonentity, being medium everything—from brown hair and eyes to average height and built. Not handsome. Not ugly. And he had the personality of a zombie, seldom speaking unless he was spoken to, standing guard over her father as if he had no other purpose in life.

“She’s off with that lowlife scum Bobby Jack Cash and we all know it,” Patrice said. “You’re a fool to waste money on a detective from that expensive agency in Atlanta.”

“It’s my money,” Edward told her. “And Audrey is my daughter.”

“And my wife,” a voice from the doorway said.

Everyone stilled instantly; then one by one, they turned and stared at Grayson Perkins IV. Cara’s heart did a ridiculous little rat-a-tat-tat when she looked at her brother-in-law. It had always been that way for her, ever since she first laid eyes on him when she was thirteen and he twenty-one. Gray’s mother had been on the board of some charity that Norah Lee had served on and the two became fast friends. Long after Norah Lee left the Bedell family, both Gray and his mother, Emeline, remained friendly acquaintances. Edward had handpicked Gray for Audrey, deciding that his pedigree was far more important than the money his family lacked. The Perkins family contained predecessors who were Old South blue bloods, Confederate heroes and English aristocracy.

“Come in, my boy. Come in.” Edward motioned to his son-in-law.

Gray hesitated for a split second; then, as handsome and debonair as any old Hollywood movie star, he sauntered into the living room. Gray was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature on earth. Almost too pretty to be real. Tall, slender, elegant. With dark, curly hair, chocolate brown eyes and thick lashes any woman would envy. Every feature perfect.

Cara had been in love with Gray for as long as she could remember.

“If anyone cares what I think, I believe Edward is doing the right thing by hiring a detective to find Audrey,” Gray said. “If she has run off with Bobby Jack, she could be in real trouble.”

“Oh, Gray…” Cara wished she could wrap her arms around her brother-in-law and comfort him. She’d seen that forlorn look on his face too many times during the six years he’d been married to her sister. Audrey didn’t deserve a man such as Gray. There were times when Cara wished Audrey was dead. And once or twice she’d even considered doing the deed herself.

“What time are you expecting the detective?” Gray asked.

“He’s due in any time now,” Edward said. “I expect him to arrive before lunch. He’s driving in from Atlanta.”

“I assume you’ve hired the very best money can buy.”

“Naturally. I contacted the Dundee Agency.” Edward eyed Gray inquisitively. “Why would you ask such a question?”

“It was merely rhetorical.”

“Was it?”

“She’s in love with him, you know,” Gray said matter-of-factly.

“Who’s in love with whom?” Edward asked.

Tears welled up in Grayson Perkins’s big, beautiful brown eyes. He clenched his teeth tightly.

Oh, God, he’s going to cry, Cara thought.

“Speak up, boy,” Edward said. “You can’t mean Audrey and that—”

“Yes, of course, that’s who he means.” Cara jumped in, wanting to spare Gray further inquisition. “Audrey is absolutely crazy about Bobby Jack Cash. She’s made no secret of the fact that she’s madly in love with him. She even asked Gray for a divorce.”

“What!” Edward’s face turned crimson.

“See,” Patrice chimed in adamantly. “I knew it. Your precious Audrey has run off with that scum and they’re fucking their way through Europe or the Caribbean or—” A resounding slap across her cheek silenced Patrice instantly. She staggered for a millisecond as she cried out and clutched the left side of her face with her open palm. “You bastard.” She glared menacingly at her husband, a man who, as far as Cara knew, had never before struck her.

Edward’s nostrils flared and his eyes closed to mere slits as he balled his hand into a tight fist. “Don’t you ever say anything so vulgar and crude about my daughter again. Do you understand me, woman?”

“I understand,” Patrice said. “I understand a lot more than you think I do.”

DOM HAD GROWN UP on a ranch in Texas, lived in a big sprawling old house and shared a bedroom with his older brother Rafe. The Shea family hadn’t been poor, but neither had they been rich. From the time he could walk, he could ride, and from the time he could ride, his Dad had put him to work, just as he had Rafe. Just as he did Pilar and Marta and Bianca when they got old enough. His mother, Camila, had been born and raised in Texas, but her parents had come from Mexico shortly after they married. Camila had raised her children in her Catholic faith, with great pride in both their Mexican and Irish heritages. Dom’s parents had been strict, but loving, giving their children a solid foundation on which to build.

As he entered the foyer of the massive antebellum mansion on Lookout Mountain, he wondered if being this rich is what had turned Audrey Bedell Perkins into such a notorious first-class bitch. After reading the complete file on her, Dom had come to the conclusion that if she were a member of his family, he’d be glad she had run off and probably wouldn’t want her to ever return. The lady spent her father’s money as if it grew on trees. She cheated on her husband regularly and made new enemies everywhere she went. She was both envied and despised by the whole of Chattanooga’s elite social circle.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the stiff-upper-lip butler said as he showed Dom into the living room. “Mr. Edward has been expecting you.”

Before they reached the half open double pocket doors leading from the foyer into the living room, Dom heard the sound of raised voices.

“Please, let’s not do this,” a female voice pleaded. “Gray shouldn’t have to suffer this way and poor Daddy—”

“Poor Daddy,” another female voice mimicked, none too kindly. “You’re the one everyone feels sorry for. Poor, pitiful Cara. The ugly duckling. The daughter her daddy doesn’t dote on, the sister Grayson doesn’t even know exists.”

“Shut the hell up,” a male voice commanded.

“Mr. Shea, from the Dundee Agency, is here,” the butler announced.

Silence.

Cold, hard stares focused on Dom as he entered the room. Then a large, tall man with a mane of thick white hair still streaked with reddish-brown highlights came forward, his big hand outstretched.

“I’m Edward Bedell. Come in, please.”

Dom entered the living room, feeling somewhat like an early Christian entering the coliseum in Rome. He extended his arm and shook hands with Bedell. A firm, cordial exchange. “Domingo Shea.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Shea. Your employer, Sawyer McNamara, promised me his best man. Is that what you are? Are you Dundee’s best?”

“I’m one of their best,” he replied. “My boss believes I’m the best man for this job, otherwise he wouldn’t have sent me.”

Edward Bedell nodded. “You know what I want—I want my daughter found. And you also know that money is no object. Whatever it takes, however much it costs, find Audrey.”

“Yes, sir. That’s what I intend to do.”

“I’ll answer any questions, provide you with any needed information. All you have to do is ask.”

Dom glanced around the room. “You can start by introducing me to your family. I assume they’re your family.”

Bedell cleared his throat. “Yes, they’re family.” He motioned to the leggy brunette with a set of topnotch silicone boobs. When she came forward, he slipped his arm around her waist. “This is Patrice…my wife.”

Mrs. Bedell smiled at Dom. An I’m-not-happily-married smile. A smile that made a silent but obvious offer.

“Ma’am.” Dom deliberately avoided direct eye contact with the lady. The last thing he wanted was to give the client’s wife any wrong ideas.

“And this is my younger daughter, Cara.” Bedell simply glanced at the tall, freckled, strawberry blonde who offered Dom a forced smile.

There was something sweet and downright wholesome about Cara Bedell’s appearance. But knowing her background, considering the family she came from and the lifestyle she was accustomed to, Dom figured Ms. Bedell was neither as sweet nor as wholesome as she appeared.

“This gentleman is Audrey’s husband, Grayson Perkins.” Bedell looked directly at his son-in-law. “He’s as concerned about Audrey as I am.”

“We want Audrey found,” Perkins said.

Dom studied the much-too-good-looking man. Pity Mother Nature wasted so much beauty on a guy. “Who was the last person to see Mrs. Perkins?” he asked.

Dead silence.

“I suppose I was,” Perkins finally said. “We had breakfast together, then I left for the office at about the same time she left to go shopping.”

“And that was when?”

“Ten days ago.”

“And no one has heard from her since?”

“Not a word,” Bedell said.

“Your daughter has done this before, hasn’t she?” Dom asked. “She’s just up and left town without telling anyone.”

“Of course she has,” Patrice Bedell said. “I tried to tell Edward that this time is no different from all the other times, but—”

“This time is different.” Grayson Perkins’s voice trembled when he spoke. “We suspect that she has gone off with a dangerous man, an ex-con named Bobby Jack Cash. He’s the type who’d do anything for money.”

In his peripheral vision, Dom noticed Cara Bedell ease steadily closer to her brother-in-law’s side, a pained expression on her face.

“Do you have reason to believe that he might have forced her to go with him?” Dom asked.

“We don’t know for sure that she left town with this Cash fellow,” Bedell said.

“Of course we know,” Patrice corrected. “She’s missing. He’s missing. They were lovers. What other conclusion could you draw?”

Dom glanced from one person to another, beginning and ending with Grayson Perkins. “I can think of one other conclusion.”

“Just what would that be?” Bedell asked.

“Someone with a very strong motive killed Mrs. Perkins and Mr. Cash.”

CHAPTER TWO

DOM RECEIVED THE INFO from Dundee headquarters around three o’clock. A routine check on Audrey Bedell Perkins’s credit cards revealed that the lady had been traveling for the past ten days, racking up expensive hotel, limo, and restaurant bills, as well as bills from numerous exclusive shops in four cities. Apparently she’d gone straight from Chattanooga to Nashville, then on to Memphis before heading for Birmingham. The most recent expenditures on her account came in from West Palm Beach, Florida.

Ms. Perkins was registered at the Palm Beach Classico Hotel, but from a preliminary inquiry, he’d been unable to find out if she was alone. His guess would be that her latest lover was with her. These rich, spoiled heiresses were all alike. Worthless. And from everything he’d learned about Audrey, she was the worst of her kind. Of course, it wasn’t his place to judge her, only to find her and bring her home to Daddy. If he boarded the Dundee jet by four, he could be in Palm Beach before dinner, make contact with Audrey and have her home in Chattanooga by bedtime. He should have this assignment wrapped up in less than twenty-four hours.

Using his cell phone, Dom dialed the Bedell home.

“Bedell residence,” the butler said. Dom recognized the man’s voice.

“This is Domingo Shea, from the Dundee agency. I’d like to speak to Mr. Bedell.”

Dom glanced at his unpacked suitcase resting on the stand at the foot of his hotel bed. Good thing he hadn’t bothered to settle in since he wouldn’t be staying even one night.

“Mr. Bedell is unavailable, sir. May I take a message?”

“Look, this concerns his daughter, Audrey.”

“Yes, sir, I understand, but Mr. Bedell isn’t here. He’s out for a ride and—”

“Fine. I’ll try him on his cell.”

“Mr. Bedell doesn’t take his cell phone when he goes horseback riding.”

“Okay, tell him that I’ve tracked his daughter down and will probably have her home tonight.”

“I—er…yes, sir, I’ll give him the message.”

Dom ended the call, then hurriedly contacted Dundee headquarters. Daisy Holbrook, the office manager answered on the second ring.

“Daisy, my darling, I need the Dundee jet and I need it now.”

“Well, you’re in luck. The jet just happens to be free.”

“Could you send it straight to Chattanooga, like five minutes ago?”

“Hold on and I’ll set things in motion.” Dom waited no more than three minutes before Daisy came back on the line. “The jet will be in Chattanooga in an hour. Now, fill me in so I can do the paperwork. You know how Mr. McNamara is about dotting all the I’s and crossing all the T’s.”

“So, it’s Mr. McNamara today, huh? What’s he done to piss you off?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dom chuckled. “Liar.”

Daisy huffed. “I have the greatest respect for Sawyer, but sometimes I agree with Lucie that he’s an inhuman robot.”

“Whew. Come on, honey, tell me what’s going on?”

“He suspended Geoff Monday,” Daisy said.

“He what?”

“I don’t know all the details, but apparently Geoff did something on his last assignment that Sawyer considered inappropriate, so he’s suspended him without pay for a month!”

“Hmm.” He’d known for quite some time that Daisy had it bad for Geoff Monday, the former SIS agent who’d joined Dundee’s a few years ago, leaving behind a lucrative mercenary career. But Monday seemed oblivious to the fact that sweet little Daisy worshiped the ground he walked on. “Don’t try to fight Monday’s battles for him, even if you do have a major thing for him.”

Silence.

“Come on, Daisy, admit it, you—”

“I like and respect Geoff. That’s all and—”

“Don’t get mixed up with Monday,” Dom warned her. “He’s a good guy and all that, but he’s not only too old for you, he’s a hundred years older than you are in experience. Listen to me, little sister, find yourself a nice young man and forget Monday.”

“Did I ask for you advice? No, I did not. Besides, Geoff thinks of me the same way you and all the other guys here at Dundee’s do—as a kid sister. So, don’t you dare ever say anything to anyone about my having a silly crush on him. I had no idea you knew. I thought Lucie was the only one who knew.”

Anyone who’d seen the way Daisy looked at Monday knew. Everybody except Monday himself. “I’m good at picking up on stuff like that.”

“Well, keep it to yourself, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now, give me the details of why you need the Dundee jet so I can fill out all the paperwork.”

DOM ARRIVED at the Palm Beach Classico Hotel at six-thirty, inquired about Ms. Perkins and was told the lady was out, but he could leave a message. No amount of persuasion—even a hint of hard, cold cash—rendered any other information.

“I’ll wait for her,” he’d said and taken a seat that gave him a view of the main entrance as well as the bank of elevators.

It was now six-fifty-five and he was still waiting. He would wait one hour, then he’d try his luck at garnering information from other members of the hotel staff. By nature, Dom was an impatient man. He hated wasting time, his own or someone else’s; but his years spent as a SEAL had taught him many things, including, to some degree, patience.

At seven-oh-three, a small redhead, weighed down by shopping bags, entered the lobby. Dom removed the photo of Audrey Perkins from his pocket, took a good look at it, and then scanned the young woman walking past him. Similar coloring, similar height and build, but different facial features. Apparently, Bedell’s elder daughter had undergone some minor plastic surgery since this picture was taken.

“Do you need some help, Ms. Perkins?” one of the bellhops asked as he scurried toward her.

“No, thanks, I can manage,” she replied, her voice soft, ultra feminine and Southern sweet.

Dom studied her intently, then glared at the photo. In person she was even prettier. Thanks to plastic surgery? And she most definitely had a new hairdo. In the studio photograph Edward Bedell had given Dom, Audrey wore her straight, shoulder-length, red hair in a smooth pageboy. Today a mane of thick, unruly, dark strawberry blonde curls fanned out and down almost to her shoulder blades.

When she brushed off the bellhop and went straight to the nearest elevator, Dom jumped to his feet and rushed after her, catching up just as the elevator door started to close.

“Wait up,” he called as he dove toward her. He managed to stop just short of knocking her down, his body colliding with the bags she held in front of her. “Sorry.” He stepped back, looked into a pair of startled, moss-green eyes and smiled involuntarily.

Without hesitation, she smiled back at him, then glanced away, as if she’d just realized her smile could mistakenly be construed as flirting with a stranger. Odd, Dom thought, that a woman with Audrey Perkins’s reputation would care.

“Need some help with those packages?”

“No, thank you.”

That voice should be illegal. It was the kind that gave a guy ideas. Hot, sweaty, body-heat ideas.

“Have you been in Palm Beach long?” he asked.

“Two days,” she replied, then lifted her gaze and connected with his.

This time neither of them looked away, and she smiled at him again. Tentatively. Almost shyly. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her and it wasn’t simply because she was a damn good looking woman. There was something about her, an air of vulnerability, a hint of wariness.

She was lovely. No doubt about that fact. Creamy smooth skin, with only a hint of freckles across her small nose and over her high, sculpted cheekbones. Full red lips that made a man want to kiss her or made him think about all the wicked things that gorgeous mouth could do to him. But it was her eyes that drew Dom to her and held him enthralled.

As a connoisseur of women, he found the opposite sex utterly fascinating. He’d been a ladies’man since puberty and had endured years of kidding from his brother Rafe.

“All the girls have the hots for you, little brother, because you’re so damn pretty. Heck, you’re prettier than our sisters and almost as pretty as Mama.” Rafe had inherited their father’s rough, rugged looks, even Dad’s Irish blue eyes and ruddy complexion; whereas, except for the Shea height and broad shoulders, Dom’s basic appearance was a replica of their beautiful Mexican mother.

Dom had known his share of lovely, fascinating women, but he couldn’t recall ever being as instantly attracted to a lady as he was to Audrey Perkins.

Hell, man, you’re a damn fool. The lady is not only married, she’s a rich, spoiled brat. And a slut to boot.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

Dom suddenly realized that she’d been talking to him and he hadn’t responded, that he’d been too busy drooling over this small, elegant piece of fluff.

“Yeah, fine. My mind just wandered. Sorry. Business matters.”

“Are you here in Palm Beach on business?” she asked.

Dom nodded.

Without warning, the elevator doors opened and someone entered behind Dom and it was only then that he realized neither he nor Ms. Perkins had punched in a floor number. They’d been talking while the elevator rested at the lobby level.

“You two getting out?” the bald, middle-aged man asked.

Audrey giggled. “No. I—I’m going to the sixth floor.”

“What about you, buddy?” the guy asked after he punched in the fourth floor for himself and the sixth floor for Audrey.

“Seventh, thanks.” Since he wasn’t registered at this hotel, Dom said the first thing that came to mind.

The three of them remained silent as the elevator lifted; then after the man got off on the fourth floor and the elevator door closed, Dom and Audrey burst into laughter.

“We were just standing here in the elevator and hadn’t even punched in our floor numbers,” she said. “He must have thought we were crazy.”

“Probably.” Dom reached out and grasped two of her four large shopping bags. “Those look way too heavy for you. Let me carry them to your room. I swear you can trust me to be a gentleman.”

Her smile vanished instantly. “Thank you. They were getting a little heavy. But as far as trusting you…I don’t know you and I learned the hard way not to trust anyone.”

“You’re too young and beautiful—” he surveyed her from head to toe “—and rich to be so cynical.”

“Haven’t you heard? Money can’t buy happiness.”

“And are you unhappy, Miss—?”

The elevator stopped at the sixth floor.

“Ms. Perkins,” she told him as the door opened. “Audrey Perkins. And right this minute, I’m quite happy.”

Using his body as a wedge, Dom held the elevator door open until she exited; then, with shopping bags in hand, he followed her down the corridor.

Glancing back over her shoulder, she paused for a moment and asked, “Are you going to tell me who you are?”

He grinned. “Sure thing. I’m Domingo Shea.”

Audrey nodded, then continued down the hall until she reached the double doors that opened into a suite. “Here we are.” She rummaged in the pocket of her tailored beige slacks and retrieved a plastic entry key. After shoving the handle on one bag farther up her right wrist, she slid the key through the lock, opened the door and entered the suite. When Dom followed, she dumped her bags on the floor, and then turned and blocked his entrance.

He paused, offered her his most persuasive smile and inquired, “Not going to let me come in?”

She shook her head and held out her hands. “Thanks for your help. I can take those now.”

“You’re a mighty suspicious lady, aren’t you?”

She took the shopping bags from Dom, but didn’t close the door in his face, which he’d halfway expected. “Look, Mr. Shea, if you must know, I find you terribly attractive, but I’m not in the market for a one-night stand and I’m not—”

“How about dinner? No strings attached. No expectations.”

She eyed him speculatively, a hint of curiosity in those remarkable green eyes. “Just dinner?”

“I can come back at eight and escort you or we can meet at the restaurant, whichever you feel more comfortable doing. I assume they have a nice restaurant here in the hotel.”

“The Flamingo Room.”

“So, is it a date?”

She hesitated.

He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the door-frame on either side of her and looked right at her. “Why not share a meal and get better acquainted?”

“Just dinner,” she told him.

“Just dinner.”

“You make the reservations and I’ll meet you downstairs at eight.”

He grinned broadly, then turned around and whistled to himself as he headed toward the elevator.

Maybe he should have simply told Ms. Perkins that he was a PI sent by her father and husband to bring her home. But if she put up a fuss and refused to return to Chattanooga, all he could do was call her father and tell him where she was. By the time the old man could get to Palm Beach, his darling daughter could well be on her way to Timbuktu. And he could hardly pick her up, kicking and screaming, then carry her down the hall, into the elevator and through the hotel lobby. She was, after all, over eighteen and had a legal right to go wherever she wanted to go, with or without her daddy’s approval.

No, the best thing to do was wine and dine her first, then maybe take her on a moonlit stroll along the beach before presenting her with two alternatives. One: she went with him willingly to the airport and flew back to Chattanooga on the Dundee jet. Two: She telephoned her father and assured him she was well and happy and did not want to return home.

DOM HAD EXPECTED to be kept waiting at least half an hour, so when Audrey showed up promptly at eight, he was pleasantly surprised. Once again, the very sight of her stirred something sexual and predatory within him, something he wanted to deny, but couldn’t. She was so completely feminine that on a primeval level she appealed to all that was masculine in him.

If every man she met reacted to her the way he did, he could see how easily Audrey could lure men into her snare. He had to remind himself that she was not what she appeared to be. Behind all that beauty lay the ugliness of self-centeredness and betrayal.

When the maître d’approached them, Dom took her arm and draped it over his.

“You look lovely.”

That statement was no lie. She did look lovely. The bronze silk dress she wore made her fair skin radiant and her reddish blond hair shimmer with copper highlights.

Audrey didn’t reply. Instead she offered him a fragile smile that implied she was pleased with his compliment.

Once seated across the small, linen-covered table in a secluded corner of the dimly lit restaurant, Audrey lifted her gaze and looked directly at him. “Do you make a habit of picking up women in elevators?”

“Actually, you’re the first.”

“Am I?”

“You find that difficult to believe?”

She shrugged.

Why was she so leery of him? She had no idea he was a PI hired to track her down. He suspected that her distrust extended to all men, perhaps to people in general. Had she spent a lifetime trying to figure out who liked her for herself and who liked her because she was a wealthy heiress?

Don’t go making her into a victim, Dom warned himself. Audrey Bedell Perkins was a user, a taker, a woman who’d been unfaithful to her husband most of their six-year marriage.

After they ordered dinner and sat together sipping the merlot, Dom broke the silence with a risky question. “Your name seems familiar,” he said. “Your accent is decidedly Southern, but not deep South.”

She visibly tensed. “I’m from Tennessee.”

“Tennessee, huh? I live in Atlanta. Could I have seen your picture in the newspaper or read something about you in the society columns?”

She took a deep breath, forced a smile and replied. “I’m Audrey Bedell Perkins. It’s possible you’ve heard of my father.”

“You’re Edward Bedell’s daughter, aren’t you? Of course, you are. I wouldn’t have recognized you from the newspaper photographs I’ve seen. You’re far prettier in person.”

Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. “Thank you.”

“If I remember correctly, you’re married, aren’t you?”

Nodding shyly, she set her wineglass down on the table and folded her hands in her lap. “Yes, I—I’m married.”

“And your husband isn’t here in Palm Beach with you?”

“No, he isn’t.”

“Are you traveling alone?”

“Why so many questions, Mr. Shea? You aren’t a reporter, are you?”

Dom laughed. “Good God, no. I’m a businessman. And as for all the questions, let’s just say that I find you fascinating.”

“Do you find me fascinating or do you find the fact that I’m a wealthy heiress fascinating?”

“I suppose you want me to tell you the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Then the answer is both. If you didn’t have a dime to your name, I’d find you very interesting, but the fact that you’re Edward Bedell’s daughter simply makes you all the more intriguing.”

“I appreciate your honesty. It’s a rare quality these days.”

The waiter set their salads in front of them. Dom lifted his fork, then asked, “Will you answer a question for me and answer honestly?”

She scrutinized his face, as if hoping she could figure out just what he was getting at. “I’ll try.”

“Are you in the habit of accepting dinner invitations from every man who finds you fascinating?”

She studied him for a moment longer, then replied, “You’re referring to the fact that I’m a married woman, aren’t you? Would you be shocked if I admitted that I don’t feel very married, that you make me wish I wasn’t married.”

The knot in Dom’s stomach tightened. Shit! She was good. Damn good. She was playing him like a fiddle. How many times had she used that line on a guy? If he didn’t know her for what she was, he’d take her straight from dinner this evening to bed. And he’d keep her there all night and maybe all day tomorrow.

He reached across the table and grasped her hand. “I usually steer clear of married women, but in your case, I could make an exception. Of course, I wouldn’t want your husband or perhaps a jealous boyfriend to—”

“My husband is in Chattanooga,” she said. “We—we’re sort of separated. And there is no jealous boyfriend.”

So, Audrey hadn’t run off with Bobby Jack Cash or if she had, she’d dumped him somewhere along the way. Her being alone should make things easier. After dinner, he’d suggest a stroll along the beach and then he’d tell her who he was and ask her to return to Chattanooga with him tonight. If she refused, the best he could do was either persuade her to call her father to set his mind at ease or call the old man himself.

Of course, there was a third option. He could simply throw her over his shoulder, shove her into his car and take her to the airport. Maybe an evening drive might be a better idea than a walk along the beach. He could wait until she realized he’d driven her to the airport before confessing he was a hired gun. If she refused to go with him, he could carry her aboard the Dundee jet and strap her into a seat before she realized what had hit her.

But technically that would be kidnapping. Then again, it would be her word against his.

“You’re awfully quiet,” she said. “Is something wrong?”

He squeezed her hand. “I was just thinking about how I’d like this evening to end.”

She jerked her hand away. “No expectations. You promised.”

He held up both hands in an I surrender gesture. “A guy can dream, can’t he?”

“All I agreed to was dinner.”

“What about a ride around town after dinner? I’ve heard there are some hot clubs—”

“I’m not into hot clubs.”

“Then how about a walk on the beach?”

She sighed. “Maybe.”

Her reply was good enough for him. She wasn’t the only expert at playing games. He had sweet talked his way into more than one woman’s silk panties over the years.

Yeah, but he wasn’t trying to get into Audrey Bedell Perkins’s panties. His assignment was to track her down and take her home. Home to her worried father.

Home to her husband.

But if the lady didn’t want to go home…

CHAPTER THREE

DOM EXCUSED HIMSELF BEFORE dessert arrived and headed for the men’s room. Instead of going inside, he found a dimly lit corner and, using his cell phone, dialed the Bedell residence. He needed to speak to the old man himself and find out how to proceed with this investigation.

Surprisingly enough, Edward Bedell answered the call. “Have you found my daughter?”

“Yes, sir, I have.”

Silence.

“She seems quite well and happy,” Dom said. Beautiful, desirable, intriguing.

“Are you sure it’s Audrey?”

“Yes, sir. Reasonably sure. She claims to be Audrey Perkins, is registered at the hotel under that name and is using your daughter’s credit cards.”

“And you’ve compared her to the photograph I gave you of my daughter?”

“Yes, sir, I have.”

“And?”

“Mr. Bedell, do you have any reason to believe that this young woman isn’t your daughter?”

“No, no, of course not. It’s just that since she disappeared the way she did, I’ve had all kinds of horrible thoughts about her being kidnapped, murdered. I suppose for just a few seconds there, I let my imagination run wild.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s staying at the Classico Hotel in West Palm Beach, Florida.”

“Is she with that man?”

“Bobby Jack Cash? No, sir. Ms. Perkins appears to be traveling alone.”

“Thank God.”

“Mr. Bedell, how do you want me to handle this situation? Do you want me to bring your daughter back to Chattanooga? If so, since she’s an adult, that will require her—”

“No, there’s no need to bring her home. Apparently she had her reasons for leaving. My guess is her bad marriage. She and Gray haven’t had a real marriage in years.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m grateful that you found her so quickly. She’s always been a strong-willed person, even as a child. She’ll do whatever she wants to do and to hell with…” Bedell paused. “Please tell her that if she needs anything, wants anything…” His voice trailed off, ending on a deep sigh.

“Would you like for me to ask Ms. Perkins to call you?”

“Yes, certainly. But it doesn’t have to be tonight. Just whenever she’s ready to talk.”

“All right.” Was that it? Goal accomplished. Assignment completed. “Once I deliver your message to your daughter, am I to consider this job finished?”

“Yes, yes. And it was a job well done, Mr. Shea. Thank you. You can return to Atlanta tonight if you wish.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dom closed his cell phone and clipped it to his belt. This had to have been the quickest, easiest job he’d ever done for Dundee’s. In less than twelve hours, he’d found the missing heiress and set her family’s minds at ease. So, why was it that he felt something wasn’t quite right, that there was more to this situation than met the eye?

What difference does it make? he asked himself. He’d done the job he’d been hired to do. The client was satisfied. Dundee’s would get a hefty check and Sawyer McNamara would be pleased that Edward Bedell was pleased.

On his way back to the table where Audrey Perkins waited, Dom considered his own options. If he was a smart man, he’d eat dessert and escort Ms. Perkins to her suite, say goodnight and goodbye. On the other hand, now that he wasn’t on the job, he was free to pursue his personal interest in the lady. And God help him, he was interested. But he would be a fool to become involved with a married woman, a woman known for her extra marital affairs.

Would a one-night-stand be considered becoming involved?

When Dom sat down across from Audrey, she smiled. “I’ve been dying to dive into this cheesecake, but I waited for you so we can savor every bite together.”

They had ordered one slice of cheesecake to share. Audrey had bemoaned the fact that if she ate the entire slice herself, she’d put on a couple of pounds overnight.

Dom picked up his fork, sliced into the rich, luscious dessert, and instead of taking the delectable morsel to his mouth, he reached across and aimed it at Audrey’s mouth. Her eyes widened, then she opened her mouth. When Dom inserted the bite, she nipped it off his fork, rolled it around over her tongue and sighed.

“Sheer heaven,” she said.

“Are all your appetites that easily appeased?” he asked.

Her big green eyes widened even more, her expression one of amused surprise.

“Are you propositioning me, Mr. Shea?”

“Could be.”

She laughed, the sound mellow and soft, and somewhat tentative, as if she didn’t laugh all that often.

“What about our agreement?” She glanced down at the cheesecake. “Let’s eat dessert and take that stroll on the beach, then see what happens.”

Smiling, Dom sliced off another bite and once again fed her. He watched the way her mouth opened, the soft fullness of her lips, the curve of her small, pink tongue.

He was getting hard just watching her eat.

Ten minutes later, dessert plate wiped clean and the check paid, Dom escorted Audrey through the restaurant, into the hotel lobby and toward the front entrance. Once outside, they headed straight for the adjacent beach. The Classico Hotel faced the Atlantic Ocean. Lights from the nearby buildings illuminated the path to the beach. Overhead a three-quarter moon and countless stars brightened the black sky.

Dom eased his arm around her waist as they neared the long stretch of sand.

“Want to take off your heels?” he asked.

She nodded, then clamped her left hand on his shoulder as she used her right hand to remove first one high heel and then the other. Dom took the sleek little bronze leather sandals from her and slipped the straps onto his index finger.

“Are you chilly?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“If you are, I can take off my jacket and—”

“You play the gentleman quite well,” she told him.

“It’s not an act. I actually can be a gentleman when the occasion—or the woman—calls for it.”

“A charming gentleman.” Audrey turned and took several steps away from him.

He followed her, draped his arm around her shoulders and fell into step alongside her. They walked together in silence for quite some time, occasionally glancing at each other and smiling. Dom couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman so much.

“MR . SHEA HAS FOUND Audrey,” Edward Bedell said to those congregated in his study.

“When?” Cara asked.

“Where is she?” Patrice Bedell glared at her husband.

“Is she with him?” Tears misted Grayson Perkins’s eyes.

“Not a one of you asked if she’s all right.” Edward clenched his teeth. Damn the whole bunch of them. They didn’t love Audrey, didn’t care if she was dead or alive. No one loved Audrey the way he did, no one understood her the way he did. Emotion welled up inside him, threatening his composure. He took several deep breaths.

“Of course she’s all right,” Patrice said. “I knew she’d just run off somewhere with Bobby Jack.”

“She’s not with that vile man,” Edward said. “Mr. Shea says that she is quite alone, that she seems well and…happy.”

“Why shouldn’t she be happy? She’s spending your money and living the high life.” When Patrice’s gaze connected with Edward’s, she shrank away from him, as if she feared he might hit her again.

“Where is she?” Cara repeated her original question.

“West Palm Beach.” Edward rose from his leather chair behind the massive desk. “I asked Mr. Shea to tell her to call me, to let me hear her voice.”

“How did he find her so quickly?” Grayson asked.

“The Dundee agency was able to track her through her credit card use,” Edward said.

“What hotel? I want to fly down there immediately and bring her home.” Grayson confronted his father-in law, a determined expression on his handsome face.

“No, Gray, don’t run after her,” Cara pleaded. “Not again. Not this time.”

“Cara’s right.” Edward clutched Grayson’s shoulder tightly. “None of us are going to chase her down this time. We’ve all jumped through hoops for that girl. It’s high time we step back and let her do whatever she wants to do.”

Cara couldn’t believe her ears, couldn’t believe that her father was actually going to allow Audrey the freedom to live her own life. If only Gray would do the same, if only he would let Audrey go. How could he love a woman who had treated him so badly, a woman who had wanted a divorce for years?

“But Audrey needs—” Grayson said.

“Listen to Daddy.” Cara interrupted him mid-sentence as she held out her hands to him in a beseeching manner. “Don’t go to Palm Beach. Don’t chase after her. It’s time for you to accept the fact that Audrey doesn’t want to be your wife.”

But I do, Cara thought. Stop loving my sister. She’s never been worthy of you. Just once, look my way and see what’s right before you—a woman who worships the ground you walk on.

“I LIKE THIS ,” Audrey said, the evening breeze gently caressing her face and tousling her hair.

“You like what?” Dom asked as he stopped walking, turned her in his arms and gazed down into her eyes.

Tilting her chin, she looked up at him. “Everything. The beach, the starry sky, the ocean waves, the feel of the sand under my feet.” She stood on tiptoe and wound her arms around his neck. “Strolling along the beach, just the two of us, not talking, just…being.”

He pulled her closer. “You know what, Audrey Perkins, you’re an enigma to me. I can’t figure you out.”

She sighed heavily. “I’m not all that complicated.”

He chuckled. “The hell you’re not. Honey, you’ve got to be the most complicated woman I’ve ever met.”

“How can you say that when you just met me? We don’t really know anything about each other, do we?”

“I know that your father is one of the richest men in America, that you’re a married woman, that for some reason you’re here in Palm Beach all alone.”

She eased her hands from around his neck, then turned away from him. “Since I find you very attractive and I’d really like for you to kiss me, that has to mean you’re absolutely no good, that if I give in to temptation, you’ll just wind up using me, and—”

Dom grabbed her upper arms and whirled her around to face him. “I’m not the kind of man who uses women.” He released his tenacious hold on her, reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek. “I’m one of the good guys. I would never hurt you.”

“I’d like to believe that, but I’m afraid my track record speaks for itself.” She clasped his hand. “I seem to attract the rotten apples. The users, the takers, the…” She sucked in air, released his hand and blew out an exasperated breath.

They stared at each other, moonlight, sandy beach and scenic ocean view fading into a blurred background so that all Dom saw was Audrey, and all she saw was Dom.

“I’m going to tell you the truth,” Dom said. “I want you. I’d like to take you upstairs to your suite, strip you naked and make love to you all night.”

Her gaze locked with his. Her breathing grew heavy, her breasts rising and falling rapidly. Her lips parted on an indrawn breath.

“If I let that happen, how do I know—”

He laid his index finger over her lips, momentarily silencing her.

“I didn’t say it had to happen. I just said it’s what I’d like to happen.” He lifted his finger from her lips and trailed it over her chin and down her throat, stopping just short of inserting his finger inside the low-cut neckline of her dress. “We’re both experienced adults. We’ve both had one-night-stands before this. Sex without commitment. No promises. No binding ties.”

“Just sex.” She spoke so softly that he barely heard her.

“It’s your call, Audrey.”

She went rigid, then broke eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. I—I…Why don’t we just walk for a while longer, then go back to the hotel and get drinks in the bar, maybe talk and dance and…”

“Whatever you want.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

He took her hand in his and squeezed tenderly. “I came to Palm Beach on an assignment that I’ve completed. I’ll be flying back to Atlanta tomorrow, but tonight I’m all yours. If you want to walk and talk and dance, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Are you married?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Ever been married?”

“No.”

“Ever been in love?”

“Yeah, a couple of times. Or at least I thought I was.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“The first time, I was seventeen and she preferred my older brother.” Dom hadn’t thought about Lori Kaye in years, didn’t even know what had happened to her after she married and moved off to San Antonio. “The second time I was older, smarter. We were actually engaged for six months before we realized it just wouldn’t work. We wanted different things from life.”

“I’ve been in love twice,” she told him.

“Your husband and—”

“Uh-uh.” Once again, her entire body stiffened, as if any reminder of who she was, of the fact she had a husband, disturbed her in a way Dom didn’t understand. “Both times I made a huge mistake and paid dearly for it. I don’t intend to ever fall in love again. No one is ever going to use me or hurt me.”

Was it his imagination or had he actually heard genuine pain in her voice?

He tugged on her hand. “Come on. Let’s walk, then we’ll get a drink and afterward go dancing. If not here, then we’ll find some other place.”

When she clung to his hand, he got the oddest feeling that at least for the time being she trusted him. Trusted him not to hurt her, not to use her.

HE DIDN ’T KNOW THE MAN , had never seen him before, but it didn’t matter as long as he paid him in cash. He wasn’t particular about who hired him or what they hired him to do, as long as the price was right. Hell, he’d knock off his own grandmother for enough money.

“The job needs to be done tonight.”

“Why so fast? I might need time to plan—”

“My client is willing to pay twenty-five thousand if the job is done before daylight tomorrow and if the murder looks like either rape or robbery was involved. Take your pick.”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure. I’ll make it look like a robbery.”

“The death should be quick and painless. Is that understood?”

“Yeah, sure. I can slit her throat or shoot her in the head. Does your client have a preference?”

The tall, slender man shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll need half up front and the other half when the job is done.”

“I have the entire amount, in cash, in this briefcase,” the man told him. “And I also have a gun in my pocket.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and clutched the weapon, showing the imprint of the pistol through the material of his jacket.

“Give me the particulars. Who you want killed, where I can locate them, any problems I might encounter.”

“Her name is Audrey Bedell Perkins. She’s staying at the Palm Beach Classico Hotel, in suite number six-ten. She’s a petite redhead. Early thirties.”

“Somebody hates this bitch enough to want her dead, but they don’t want her to suffer. Got it.” He held out his hand for the money.

The guy hesitated, then set the briefcase on the edge of the bed, flipped it open and dumped the cash. “If the job isn’t done by daybreak—”

“It’ll be done.” He eyed all those beautiful greenbacks. “If the lady’s alone, it’ll be a piece of cake.”

THE BAND PLAYED a soft, jazzy number, giving the dancers a break from the fast, frenetic beat of the last tune. Dom pulled Audrey into his arms, leading her into the slow, intimate dance. They had shared drinks at the Classico Hotel’s Mermaid Bar before deciding to take her rented convertible and find a place where the music didn’t stop at midnight. The Beachcomber stayed open until dawn, giving customers live music, a dance floor and a bartender who made a mean margarita.

“Having fun?” Dom whispered in her ear.

“Mmm…” Resting her head on his chest, she cuddled closer.

He nuzzled the side of her face, then kissed her ear. She shuddered. “Are you about ready to head back to the hotel or do you want to stay and close the place down?”

“Let’s finish this dance before we go,” she said.

“Whatever you want, honey.”

“Whatever I want,” she repeated in a sleepy, little girl voice.

He held her, loving the feel of her, the scent of her. She was small and slender yet nicely rounded. The girl’s got meat on her bones, his father would say. The more time Dom spent with Audrey, the harder he found it to believe most of the things he’d read about her in the Dundee report he’d been given. Yes, she was guarded, didn’t seem to trust easily and apparently loved to party, but he hadn’t seen any evidence of her being a first class bitch. He suspected that beneath that I-can-take-care-of-myself exterior strength lay an inner core of kindness and vulnerability. If his gut instincts were correct, somewhere along the way, someone had hurt this woman, hurt her badly.

When the dance ended, Dom escorted her off the dance floor and out of the club. Once outside he held out his hand.

“Keys, please.”

She giggled. “Don’t you trust me to drive?”

“Not after two glasses of wine and two strong margaritas.”

She rummaged around in her small handbag, yanked out the car keys and handed them to him. “You’re right. All you had was a sip of one of my margaritas and a glass of wine about—” she lifted her arm and stared at her wristwatch. “Four hours ago. My gosh, it’s nearly three-thirty.”

“So it is.” He draped his arm around her shoulders and steered her into the parking lot.

When he opened the convertible door for her, she paused, lifted her arm and whirled the bracelet-type watch around on her wrist. “Do you know how much this watch cost?”

“I have no idea.” He helped her into the passenger seat, then kissed her on the tip of her nose.

She giggled again. “It cost two thousand dollars. It’s real gold, you know.”

Dom grinned. She was slightly loopy, after two glasses of wine and two margaritas. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the lady wasn’t used to drinking.

“What’s two grand to you, honey? Your father’s a billionaire, isn’t he?” Dom slid behind the wheel.

She reached out, grabbed his arm and glared at him. “Is that why you like me? Because—”

Acting purely on instinct, Dom cupped her face with his hands and kissed her. No preliminaries, no sweet nothings. He’d been wanting to kiss her all night. She responded instantly, returning the kiss, opening her mouth, inviting him in. He took full advantage, probing, seeking, passionately loving her mouth. When they were both breathless, he ended the kiss, but didn’t lift his head. Instead, he slid his hands down either side of her neck and onto her shoulders, then spread hot, nipping kisses across her cheek and down the side of her neck.

“Dom…”

“Hmm…”

She pushed him away and they stared at each other.

“Could you stay on in Palm Beach another day?” she asked.

“Possibly. If I had a good reason to stay.”

The corners of her mouth lifted in a fragile smile. “I’m not going to ask you in when you take me to my suite, but I’d very much like for us to have lunch tomorrow and then dinner tomorrow night.”

“I’d like that, too.”

When he started to kiss her again, she shoved against his chest. “It’s late. I think we should go back to the Classico now.”

Dom covered his heart with his crossed hands and sighed dramatically. “Lady, you really know how to hurt a guy, don’t you?”

She laughed. “And you, Dom Shea, know how to tempt a woman beyond reason.”

“Oh, honey, if only that were true.”

“Believe me, it is.”

Dom removed his jacket, lifted her just enough to slip the jacket around her shoulders, then kissed her cheek. “It’s pretty chilly out here.”

She hugged the coat around her. “Thanks. You really are a nice man, aren’t you.”

Dom reached across the console and buckled her into her seat belt, then latched his before starting the engine. The cool morning air acted as a slap-in-the-face, making Dom fully alert as he drove back to the hotel. He wondered what Sawyer would say if he stayed on in Palm Beach another twenty-four hours. Would his boss buy the excuse of typing up loose ends on the assignment? If not, he could send the Dundee jet back to Atlanta and simply take a personal leave day.

He knew better than to become involved with a married woman, even on a temporary basis. But there was something about this particular woman that had grabbed him from the moment he saw her and whatever it was, it wouldn’t let him go.

THEY STOOD OUTSIDE Audrey’s suite, wrapped in each other’s arms. He lifted his head after their third goodbye kiss.

“I don’t want to go,” he told her.

“You promised,” she reminded him.

He groaned. “How about I come back for breakfast?”

“It’s nearly four o’clock. Breakfast is only a few hours away.”

“I know.”

She giggled, then pushed him away. He grabbed the key out of her hand and inserted it in the lock. When the door opened, she took a step inside the foyer, but didn’t get any farther before he put his arms around her from behind and pulled her against his chest, pressing his erection against her lower back.

“How about an early lunch? Around eleven,” she said.

“How about lunch up here in your suite?”

“If you’ll go away now, like a good boy, I’ll think about it.”

He shoved her mane of long hair to one side and kissed her neck. She squealed. He released her, then turned around and walked away. When he was almost in front of the nearby elevators, she called to him.

“Dom?”

He spun around and smiled. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for the best evening I’ve had in…in a long time.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“See you at eleven.”

“I’ll be johnny-on-the-spot.”

After they waved goodbye, she went inside her suite. He punched the elevator down button and waited. Then he realized he still had her key and she still had his jacket. The jacket was no big deal. He could get it tomorrow. But what if she got curious and took a look in the pockets? When he’d wrapped the jacket around her after they left the Beachcomber, he’d forgotten that he’d put the photo of her that Edward Bedell had given him inside the inner pocket. How would he ever be able to explain to her why he had a picture of her?

Dom walked down the hall to her door, but just as he started to knock, he heard an odd noise. Something inside the suite had fallen. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. Another thud, then the sound of scuffling. And finally a muffled cry.

His adrenaline pumping, he slid the plastic key down the lock and opened the door.

“Audrey?” he called to her. “Are you all right?”

Deadly silence.

Then suddenly a loud, terrified scream.

CHAPTER FOUR

DOM ’S TRAINING as a SEAL told him how to handle the situation, despite being emotionally involved. And damn it all, he was emotionally involved with Audrey Perkins whether he wanted to be or not.

The suite lay in darkness, which meant the curtains had been closed to prevent outside light from entering the area. Someone had entered the suite, prepared it for an attack and waited for Audrey’s return. He could be dealing with a kidnapper, a rapist or a thief, although one of the first two was more likely, unless he had simply walked into the middle of a robbery attempt.

Dom had no way of knowing if he was dealing with one assailant or more. His Glock 30 was in his room in the safe. After making contact with Audrey and finding out she was alone, he had erroneously assumed he wouldn’t need his gun. Besides, if he’d carried his weapon on their date, how could he have explained it to her? But Dom seldom if ever went anywhere without being armed, especially not when he was working. Keeping his back to the wall, he eased down, lifted his pants leg and removed the Beretta 950 Jetfire pistol from the holster strapped to his calf. Many of the Dundee agents used the small, 10 ounce, 4.7 inch handgun as a backup weapon.

Not knowing his enemy, Dom took extra precautions. He had to work under the assumption that the person or persons involved posed a threat to Audrey, that they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her, especially if this was a kidnapping gone wrong.

When he made his way from the entrance foyer and into the parlor/dining room of the luxurious suite, his Beretta in hand, he heard a loud, agonized grunt, then saw a flash of movement.

Something or someone came barreling toward him, followed by a bulking dark shadow.

Audrey ran straight into him, her breathing labored. “He has a knife,” she whispered. “He’s trying to kill me.”

Before Dom had time to respond, the big, brutal man came at him, but just as Dom aimed the Beretta, the guy rushed past him and Audrey and ran straight for the open door.

“Was he alone?” Dom asked, halfway into the foyer.

“Yes, as far as I know,” she replied.

“You stay here,” he told her, then headed out the door.

“Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone,” she called after him.

Dom hesitated for a split second, but when he saw the man disappear inside the elevator, he turned around to face Audrey.

“I’ll call hotel security,” Dom said, then flipped on a light switch and walked over to the phone in the parlor. “They should be able to catch him when he exits the elevator, if he stays on the elevator.”

“Don’t call security. Please.” Audrey grabbed his wrist. “Don’t call anyone.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not hurt. I don’t think anything is missing. And even so, I really don’t want the publicity. If you notify the hotel, they’ll call in the police, then the newspapers will get wind of it and Audrey Bedell Perkins will be front page news tomorrow. The press will hound me.”

Dom intensely disliked the idea of letting a criminal get off scot-free. It went against everything he believed in, everything he’d fought for as a SEAL, everything he stood for as a Dundee agent.

“Please, Dom.”

He replaced the phone on its base. “What’s really going on? I thought you said he was trying to kill you. Why would you want a man like that to go free?”

“Maybe I overreacted.” Her voice quivered slightly. “I’m not sure. He took me by surprise. He grabbed me from behind. He had a knife. He held it to my throat.”

“How did you get away from him?”

“Basic survival techniques. I bit his hand that he held over my mouth, then I elbowed him in the groin. Luckily, I hit the right spot.”

Dom looked at her in a whole new light. The pampered heiress had defended herself. She’d fought off an attacker like a spunky streetwise woman would have done. “Where did you learn to fight dirty?”

She exhaled deeply. “Look, there are things I can’t tell you. Not yet. Not until I talk to…my father. I need to go back to Chattanooga.”

Dom eyed her quizzically. “I can take you home right now. I have a plane at my disposal.” He lifted his leg, eased up the cuff of his pants and put the Beretta in the calf holster.

She stared at him, obviously puzzled by his comment.

“Look, I think we should come clean with each other,” he said. “I’ll go first, then you.”

“What?” She stared at him, obviously puzzled by his suggestion. “I don’t understand.”

“My name is Domingo Shea and I did come to Palm Beach on business. I work for the Dundee Private Security and Investigation Agency, based in Atlanta. Edward Bedell hired me to locate his missing daughter. I came to Palm Beach to find you.”

“Oh.”

He couldn’t bear the look of disappointment on her face. “But what happened between us had nothing to do with—”

“You had an ulterior motive for being so nice to me.”

Dom grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her gently. “I came here on an assignment and expected to find a cold, calculating, spoiled bitch, but you don’t come across as any of those things. I was nice to you because I like you. I like you a little more than I should, but once I spoke to your father and told him you were okay, he said fine, just have her call me. Assignment over.”

“And that’s all I was to you, an assignment.”

“No, damn it.” He eased his hands from her shoulders, down her arms and then released her. “That’s what I’m trying to explain. I became emotionally involved and I shouldn’t have. Right now, a potential murderer is getting away because instead of calling hotel security the way I should have, I’m sitting here with you. But once you explain exactly what’s going on with you, why somebody tried to kill you and you don’t want me to go after them, I’m calling the police.”

“No!”

“Why the hell not?”

“Please, believe me when I tell you that if you’ll just take me back to Chattanooga, straight to my father—”

“Why are you so anxious to go home to dear old dad when you’ve been running away for nearly two weeks now? You know who your attacker was or, at the very least, why he was waiting here for you, don’t you?”

She shook her head. “No, I swear I don’t know who he was or why—” she gulped “—he was waiting here to kill me.”

“Which is it—he was trying to kill you or he wasn’t?”

“I don’t know. You’re confusing me. I think he was here to either kidnap or kill me. But it doesn’t make any sense. No one was supposed to know where I was. Not yet. Not until…”

“What’s really going on here? What are you not telling me?”

“Please, Dom, take me back to Chattanooga as soon as possible. Take me to the Bedell estate. I have to talk to my father.”

FOUR HOURS LATER , the Dundee jet landed in Chattanooga. Dom had called ahead so that a rental car would be waiting for them. In Palm Beach the temperature had been in the low eighties, but here in southeastern Tennessee, this morning’s high was seventy. Autumn was in full swing in early October, leaves were already beginning to turn from green to golds and reds, and a definite chill was in the air.

On the trip to Chattanooga, Dom had tried to persuade Audrey to confide in him, but she’d refused, telling him that she had to talk to her father before she could say anything else. He suspected that she knew a lot more about her attacker than she was admitting—if not his identity, then the reason he’d been waiting for her in her hotel suite.

Before leaving Palm Beach, Audrey had packed four suitcases, each filled to the brim. But neither he nor she had showered or changed clothes. Dom had retrieved his jacket and put it on; she’d thrown a beige cashmere sweater over her shoulders before they called the bellman.

During the plane ride, Audrey had dozed off to sleep. When she’d rested her head on his shoulder, Dom had slipped his arm around her and readjusted her so that she’d be more comfortable. She had looked so sweet and innocent while she slept.

“I want all my suitcases loaded in the car before we leave,” Audrey said after they departed from the Dundee jet.

“Sure thing.”

“And I want you to call the house and tell my father that we’re on our way.”

“Okay.”

“And I want you to stay with me when I see my father. Promise me that you won’t leave me alone.”

“I promise.”

On the forty minute drive from the airport to the Bedell estate on Lookout Mountain, Audrey had sat quietly with her hands clutched together in her lap. She appeared to be nervous and worried. And afraid? But why should she be afraid of her father? Maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe it was her husband she feared. Could it be that Grayson Perkins had abused her? If that were the case, then Dom would—

He’d stay calm, cool and in control until he found out the truth. That’s what he’d do. And he’d keep his promise to Audrey. He’d stay at her side. He wouldn’t leave her. Not until he knew she was safe. Not until she asked him to go.

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED ? You were supposed to make sure that she was taken care of.”

“The guy I hired made a mistake. He didn’t count on her putting up a fight. He said I should have warned him that she knew how to handle herself. And he had no idea some guy would come to her rescue.”

“I don’t want excuses. Your failure creates a major problem for me.”

“I’m sorry. I swear I’ve never had any trouble with this guy before. He’s good at what he does and—”

“Not good enough to get rid of one small redhead.”

“Look, I have contacts all over. Just say the word and I’ll put somebody in your area on the job in less than twelve hours.”

“No, not yet. Let me see how this is going to play out before I decide on another course of action. Mr. Shea is bringing her home this morning. They should arrive at any moment.”

“Just let me know what you want and when you want it. No more slip ups, I promise.”

JEREMY LOMAN OPENED the door for Dom and Audrey. “Mr. Bedell and the others are waiting in the study.”

Dom noticed that Loman didn’t speak to Audrey, didn’t even glance at her. And she paid little attention to her father’s all-around assistant, which made him wonder if there was bad blood between the two of them.

“The others?” Dom asked, then slipped his arm through Audrey’s as they followed Loman down the hall.

“Yes, sir. Mrs. Bedell, Miss Cara and Mr. Grayson. They’re all very concerned about Miss Audrey.”

Dom felt Audrey tense immediately and his gut instincts warned him that something definitely wasn’t right.

Within minutes, they entered the study. Wall-to-wall bookshelves, carved marble fireplace, massive wooden desk, and four somber people stood before them. One by one, the family turned to stare at Dom and then at Audrey. Not one smile. Not one welcome home or thank God you’re all right.

“Please come on in,” Edward Bedell said. “Would you—” he glanced at Audrey “—either of you care for coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Dom said.

Audrey didn’t reply.

“When you telephoned, you said you were bringing Audrey home,” Edward said. “Where is she? Did she change her mind about coming back to Chattanooga with you?”

A mental red flag popped up inside Dom’s mind the second Edward Bedell’s question registered. “What do you mean, where is she? She’s right here.” Dom turned and looked at Audrey.

“Please, Mr. Bedell, I can explain everything,” Audrey said. “I know this looks bad, but remember that I came here with Mr. Shea of my own free will and I did it because I think your daughter is in some kind of horrible trouble. Someone tried to kill me early this morning, someone who thought I was Audrey.”

Dom heard several voices questioning, complaining, accusing, but all he could think about was that this woman, a woman he had thought was Audrey Bedell, had just confessed that she wasn’t the woman he’d been hired to find.

“I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Bedell glowered at Dom. “What on earth made you think this young woman was my daughter?”

Dom looked right at Bedell. “Maybe because she told me she was Audrey Bedell Perkins and because she was using your daughter’s credit cards and had registered at the hotel under that name. And the general description I was given of Audrey fits this woman’s general description.” Dom snapped his head around and glared at the woman who’d had his insides tied in knots since the moment they met. “Who the hell are you if you’re not Audrey?”

“Dom, please understand that I—”

“What have you done to my sister?” Cara demanded as she stormed across the room toward the stranger in their midst. “Did you kill her and steal her credit cards?”

Whoever the woman was, she stood her ground. She squared her shoulders, tilted her chin up and balled her hands into tight fists. “My name is Lausanne Raney. I’ve worked as a receptionist at Bedell, Inc. for the past six months and I haven’t killed anyone. Audrey Perkins hired me to impersonate her so that she and her boyfriend could run away together without being followed.”

CHAPTER FIVE

THE TRUTH HAD HIT DOM like a sledgehammer, right between the eyes. Why hadn’t he seen what was right before him? Why hadn’t he realized that this woman wasn’t Audrey Bedell Perkins? He had compared her to the photograph he’d been given and had seen only a superficial similarity. Great investigative work, Shea, he told himself. You were so busy thinking with your dick instead of your brain that you screwed up big time.

“Why would Audrey do such a thing?” Grayson Perkins asked, genuine puzzlement in his expression.

“Get real,” Patrice said. “She figured that if she was gone long enough, either you or Edward would sick the bloodhounds on her. I think it was damn smart of her to hire an impersonator to lead y’all off on a wild goose chase.”

“I think we should call the police right now,” Cara said. “How do we know this woman is telling us the truth?”

“I swear that I’m not lying,” Lausanne told them, her pleading gaze moving around the room, pausing for a split second on each person present.

“What you’re saying may be true, but I agree with Cara—we should call the police.” Grayson looked directly at Edward. “We don’t know where Audrey is or what may or may not have happened to her. If this girl is lying—”

“I’m not lying!” There was a hint of panic in Lausanne’s voice.

“Shut up! Everyone, stop talking!” Edward’s face reddened, his nostrils flared. “All this quibbling isn’t getting us anywhere.” He turned to Dom. “You’re the professional, Mr. Shea. What do you recommend?”

Torn between being angry at Lausanne Raney for making him look like a fool and wanting to believe that she hadn’t committed a crime, Dom hesitated briefly before answering. “Call the police. As a matter of fact, I’ll do that for you. I can update them on all the pertinent information.” He glanced at Lausanne. “As for you, keep quiet until the police arrive. You can tell your story to them and to us at the same time.” He wanted to add, Do you understand? I’m trying to help you without betraying my client.

Why the hell did he want to help her? What if she was lying? What if she was somehow involved in Audrey Perkins’s disappearance? For all he knew, this woman could be a cold-blooded killer. But if she was a criminal, she wasn’t a very smart one; otherwise, she wouldn’t have been traveling around the southeast passing herself off as Audrey Perkins while she added up huge bills on the woman’s credit cards.

“Very well,” Edward said. “I think we should all adjourn to the living room and allow you some privacy to telephone the police.” He glanced at Lausanne. “We’ll leave Ms. Raney—if that’s her real name—in your custody.”

Loman followed the others out of the room, closing the study door behind him. Once they were alone, Lausanne rushed over to Dom, who held up a restraining hand. She stopped immediately and stared at him, her eyes dry, her expression stern.

“They don’t believe me, do they?” She searched Dom’s face, then said, “And you don’t, either. You actually think I might have done something to Audrey Perkins and stolen her credit cards.”

“Did you?”

“No, I did not.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Oh, I don’t know—maybe because I’m telling the truth.”

“The way you were telling me the truth when you told me that you were Audrey Bedell Perkins?”

“I was playacting. She hired me to impersonate her. I swear—”

“Save it for the police, honey.”

She grabbed Dom’s arm and gazed into his eyes. “I’m going to get railroaded on this and we both know it. It’s happened to me before. I’m just lucky that way. I should have known the deal I made with Ms. Perkins was too good to be true, that somehow, someway, it would come back and bite me in the butt.”

“Are you saying you’ve been arrested before, that you have a criminal record?”

She released her hold on his arm. “I have never committed a crime, but this isn’t the first time I’ve been blamed for something I didn’t do.”

Dom nodded. God, how he wanted to believe her. Idiot!

“Have a seat.” He pointed to a nearby chair, then walked over to the desk and picked up the telephone receiver. He reached inside his coat pocket, removed the card with Lieutenant Bain Desmond’s phone number that Sawyer had given him and punched in the digits.

The detective answered on the third ring. “Yeah, Desmond here.”

“Lieutenant Desmond, this is Domingo Shea. I’m with the Dundee—”

“Yes, Mr. Shea, Sawyer McNamara told me I might be hearing from you. So what can I do for you?”

“Did Sawyer fill you in on any of the details?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, here it is in a nutshell—Edward Bedell’s daughter, Audrey Perkins, disappeared nearly two weeks ago. Bedell hired Dundee’s to find her. We traced her whereabouts through her credit card activity. I found her in Palm Beach, Florida, where somebody made a botched attempt at either kidnapping or killing her. I brought her home to her father this morning. But lo and behold, the woman turned out not to be Audrey Perkins, but some lookalike who claims her name is Lausanne Raney. She swears Audrey Perkins hired her to impersonate her so that if dear old dad hired a PI—that would be me—to find her, he’d find the impersonator instead.”

“Whoa…that’s quite a story there, Mr. Shea.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dom replied.

“Does this Raney woman have any proof that Ms. Perkins hired her?”

“Don’t know. Haven’t asked.”

“Okay, so I guess this means you’re waiting for me to do all the questioning, right?”

“Right.”

“Sawyer gave you my cell phone number. I’m off duty right now, but if you’ll give me about an hour to round up my partner, we’ll meet you at the Bedell estate.”

LAUSANNE HADN ’T BEEN this scared in a long time. Not since she had been arrested as an accessory to armed robbery. Not since she’d trusted the wrong man and paid for her mistake with five years of her life. She felt like the biggest fool on earth for believing she’d hit it lucky when Audrey Perkins offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse. It would be so simple, Ms. Perkins had explained. All she had to do was travel around from city to city, stay at four-star hotels, move every few days, and go on shopping sprees as often she wanted. And to seal the deal, Ms. Perkins had given her fifty thousand dollars, which Lausanne had promptly deposited in a savings account. That money was earmarked to pay for an investigator to unearth the whereabouts of Lausanne’s daughter.

I’m going to find you, sweet darling. I’m going to make sure you’re well and happy and want for nothing.

Lausanne had no intention of interfering in her child’s life. But she had to know, had to be certain, that her daughter was living the kind of life she deserved.

That fifty thousand could well be the only proof she had that Ms. Perkins had hired her to gallivant around the southeast pretending to be Audrey. Damn! She’d been paid in cash, something that hadn’t concerned her at the time. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d thought she’d need to prove she hadn’t killed Audrey Perkins and stolen the money from her.

“Is your name really Lausanne Raney?” Dom asked.

She snapped her head up and glared at him. “I’m Lausanne Inez Raney, born twenty-eight years ago in Booneville, Mississippi.”

“You know that I can run a check on you and find out if you’re lying to me.”

Her lips twitched in a hint of a smile. A hard, sarcastic smile that told him she wasn’t afraid of him and wouldn’t succumb to any bullying tactics.

“So check me out,” she said. “I’m not lying.”

“Want to fill me in on—”

“No, I don’t. I’ll tell the police what I know, then if either they or you want to know more, y’all will have to dig up the info on your own. Why should I make things easier for you, especially considering the fact that you don’t believe me?”

“You sure fooled me, honey.” He sat down in a chair directly across from her.

“And that galls you, doesn’t it? It wounds your male pride. You really believed I was Audrey Perkins.”

“My male pride will survive. This wasn’t my first mistake and it won’t be my last. The thing I don’t understand is why you insisted on being brought back here to Chattanooga, straight to Edward Bedell.”

“Somebody tried to kill me—kill Audrey. Impersonating Audrey for money and the perks of first-class travel and expensive shopping sprees is one thing, but I didn’t sign on to be a body double in a murder case.”

“So why not just split?” Dom asked. “Why come back to Chattanooga to see Audrey’s father and be found out?”

“Because he has the right to know that someone wants his daughter dead and that I’m not going to be her stand-in any longer. He’s a rich, powerful man. He can do something to save her life…and mine.”

Dom studied her curiously, and she knew he wasn’t sure he could believe her. “Do you think Audrey hired you because she knew someone wanted to kill her and set you up as a moving target?”

“Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind a time or two since that guy tried to slit my throat this morning.”

“You do realize that the police might come up with another theory.”

“I did not kill Audrey Perkins. I didn’t harm a hair on her head.”

“Can you prove it?”

“Can you or the police prove otherwise?”

“No, but if we can’t find Audrey, you might want to hire yourself a good lawyer.”

Lausanne shrugged. “I guess I should have known that once you found out I wasn’t a rich heiress, you wouldn’t give a damn about me, that you wouldn’t be on my side, wouldn’t stand by me.” She shrugged. “That’s the story of my life.”

“The story of your life, huh? So, you’ve impersonated a rich heiress before?”

She emitted a mirthless chuckle. “No, this was a first for me. What I meant was that this isn’t the first time a guy who whispered sweet nothings in my ear wound up disappointing me. The only difference is I don’t think you’re really an uncaring, unreliable son of a bitch like the others.”

Dom stared at her, but said nothing.

Then again, maybe he was just like the others, only wrapped in a prettier package. Just because Dom professed to be one of the good guys didn’t make it true.

So, here she was one her own once again. All alone and in trouble up to her eyeballs. She couldn’t count on Dom Shea to help her. The only person she could rely on was herself.

SERGEANT MIKE SWAIN stood five-nine, was built like a fireplug and chewed gum while he talked. His carrot-red hair was cut military short and his large brown eyes were hidden behind a pair of thick glasses. His superior, Lieutenant Bain Desmond, was older, close to forty where Swain wasn’t a day over thirty. Tall and lean, with an easy smile that proclaimed him a good old boy, Desmond entered the Bedell living room as if he owned it. The guy wasn’t cocky, just self-confident. He surveyed the group of people one by one, then turned his baby blues on Lausanne.

“Start at the beginning, Ms. Raney, and tell us exactly how and why Dom Shea found you in Palm Beach impersonating Audrey Bedell.”

Lausanne swallowed hard. This wasn’t the first time she’d been interrogated by the police nor was it the first time she’d been presumed guilty.

“I’ve been working as a receptionists at Bedell, Inc. for the past six months. Ten—no, eleven days ago, I received a telephone call from Audrey Perkins, asking me to come to her home. She said she’d seen me when she’d visited the main office and thought I’d be perfect for a special job she needed done.”

“And so you went to see her?” Desmond asked. “At her home?”

“Yes, I went to her home. After all, she was Audrey Bedell Perkins, the boss’s daughter.”

“Was there anyone else there when you arrived, a maid…a secretary…anyone who can verify that you met with Ms. Perkins?”

“No, there wasn’t anyone else there. She’d made certain that we met alone, in private.”

“I see.” Desmond nodded. “Go on.”

“When I arrived at Ms. Perkins’s home, she asked me if I’d like to earn fifty thousand dollars and—”

“Did Ms. Perkins pay you that amount?” Desmond asked.

“Yes, she did.”

“Cashier’s check, personal check—”

“Cash,” Lausanne replied and heard the collective ah-ha sigh reverberating around the room. “I deposited the money in a savings account. Regions Bank.”

“And what service were you to provide to earn the fifty-thousand?” Lt. Desmond watched her carefully.

“Ms. Perkins offered me the money, plus an extravagant vacation, new clothes, and use of her credit cards. And all I had to do was travel from one city to another, moving every three or four days, registering under the name of Audrey Bedell Perkins and pretending to be her for a few weeks. She said that the reason she’d thought of me for the job was because she remembered seeing me at the office one day and had noticed that we were about the same height, same size, same coloring and even close to the same age. When she offered me a chance to earn fifty-thousand dollars, she also promised me that my job at Bedell Inc. would be waiting for me when I returned to Chattanooga, that she’d make certain of it.”

When murmurs rose from others in the room, Sergeant Swain requested quiet; then Desmond continued with his questioning.

“Did Ms. Perkins tell you why she wanted you to impersonate her?”

“Yes, she did. She told me that she intended to run away with her boyfriend and she didn’t want her husband or her father to find them, that all they needed was a good head start on any search her family might instigate.”

“And you didn’t have any qualms about—”

“Yes, I had my doubts, but when she handed me a bag filled with cash, I pushed aside all my doubts. Fifty-thousand is a great incentive for most of us who don’t have that kind of money.”

Desmond nodded, as if agreeing. “Do you have any idea where the real Audrey Perkins is right now?”

“No, sir. I have no idea.”

“And do you have any proof—other than fifty-thousand dollars in your bank account—to back up what you’ve just told me?”

“No,” she admitted. “The only person who can verify that what I’ve told you is the truth is Audrey Perkins.”

“And Ms. Perkins just happens to be missing.”

“Yes, sir. And considering the predicament I’m in, I want her found as much, if not more, than anyone else in this room.”

Dom had watched and listened, studying Lausanne’s body language, her voice, every aspect of her responses. He wanted to believe her; some part of him did believe her. But was that part his head or his heart? Or a region a little farther south?

“I don’t believe anything this woman has told you.” Cara Bedell’s declaration broke the momentary silence. “She’s lying. She knows where Audrey is.”

“I agree,” Grayson said. “Audrey would never concoct such an elaborate scheme just so she could run away with one of her lovers. She’s gone off with other men before this and never found it necessary to—”

“But she’s never been in love with any of the others,” Patrice pointed out. “Bobby Jack Cash was different.”

“Yes, he was different,” Edward said. “He was a lowlife scum. And he was dangerous. Why Audrey would give a man like that the time of day is beyond me. She was far superior to him in every way.”

No one else noticed the stricken look on Lausanne’s face at the mention of the name Bobby Jack Cash, but Dom had been staring right at her. He got a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of his belly. He’d bet his last dime that Lausanne knew the man, that there was a connection between them. And here he’d been on the verge of believing all her lies, of being taken in by her sweet, innocent appearance. An ugly scenario formed in his mind, one that put Lausanne Raney and Bobby Jack Cash together in a wicked scheme that ended in murder.

“Ms. Raney, do you know Bobby Jack Cash?” Dom asked.

CHAPTER SIX

LAUSANNE HAD TWO CHOICES —lie or tell the truth. But considering the trouble she was in and the fact that the truth was bound to come out, she chose complete honesty.

Mentally preparing herself for Dom’s condemnation and suspicion, she looked directly at him when she responded to his question.

“Yes, I know Bobby Jack Cash.”

A loud rumble of angry, accusatory voices bombarded her, but once again Sergeant Swain quieted the Bedell family with a stern warning.

Lausanne hated the expression on Dom’s face, knowing that any chance she’d had to persuade him of her innocence had now been lost. Damn it, what was wrong with her? Why did she always pick the wrong guy, the guy who’d disappoint her, get her in trouble and break her heart?

“Ms. Raney?” Bain Desmond spoke her name.

She turned to him. “Yes, sir?”

“How do you know Mr. Cash?”

“I met him when I first went to work at Bedell, Inc. He was employed there as a guard.”

“So, you were simply fellow employees and that’s the extent of your relationship with the man?” Dom asked.

Keeping her gaze on the police lieutenant and avoiding direct eye contact with Dom, she replied. “No, not exactly. We went out on a couple of dates, but that was months ago and—”

“You were Mr. Cash’s girlfriend?” Lt. Bain asked.

“No.” Lausanne shook her head. “It was only two dates. That’s all.”

“Were you lovers?” Dom asked.

Cackling laughter drew everyone’s attention away from Lausanne and to Patrice Bedell. Realizing her outburst had removed the spotlight from Lausanne and focused on her, she quieted. Then chuckling softly, she glanced around at the others.

“What’s the matter?” Patrice asked. “Don’t the rest of you find this as amusing as I do? Bobby Jack was bonking this little nothing receptionist while he was having an affair with Audrey, who fell madly in love with him. My bet is that Audrey found out and—”

“I did not have sex with Bobby Jack,” Lausanne swore. “We were not lovers.”

“I think she and Bobby Jack murdered Audrey,” Patrice said.

“I didn’t murder Audrey. And I haven’t dated Bobby Jack in months.” Lausanne wanted to scream, to rant and rave. But most of all, she wanted to kick her own rear end for getting embroiled in such a complicated mess. First of all, she never should have dated Bobby Jack Cash; but the guy had been so persistent, so charming and persuasive. And she’d been lonely. But it had taken her only two dates to realize the guy was bad news, just like all the other men in her life, starting with her own father.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, of course. If only she’d said “thank you, but no thank you” to Audrey Bedell’s proposition, she wouldn’t be in trouble. Again. No one would be accusing her of murder.

“I want you to arrest this woman for murder!” Patrice got right up in Lausanne’s face. “You might as well admit what you did. You and Bobby Jack Cash. You killed her and we all know it.”

“For once I agree with Patrice,” Cara said. “Make her tell you what they did with poor Audrey.”

“No!” Edward Bedell stepped forward, a haggard expression on his wrinkled face. “We have no proof that this girl did anything other than what she said she did—impersonate Audrey. There’s a good chance that Audrey is in the Caribbean or in Europe, either alone or with Bobby Jack Cash. Until we find Audrey, we can’t be certain of anything.”

Lausanne stared at Mr. Bedell, surprised by his attitude, but thankful that he was at least giving her the benefit of the doubt.

Lieutenant Desmond nodded. “Mr. Bedell is right. We have no hard evidence against Ms. Raney, no proof she’s done anything illegal. And no witnesses to any crime.”

“Are you saying you can’t arrest this woman?” Grayson asked.

“Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Desmond walked over to Lausanne. “Just because I can’t arrest you doesn’t mean I believe your story. Until Ms. Perkins is found and can corroborate what you’ve told us, you will remain a person of interest to the Chattanooga PD. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” Lausanne understood all too well. Once the police ran a check on her and discovered that she had served five years in the TPFW, she would become their number one suspect if anything had happened to Audrey Perkins. And she had a really bad feeling in her gut that if Audrey wasn’t already dead, she was in grave danger.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d cooperate by allowing me to ask you a few questions in private,” Desmond said. “Of course, you have every right to call a lawyer—”

“I don’t need a lawyer, do I?”

“No, ma’am,” Lt. Desmond replied. “Not at this time.”

“I’m willing to cooperate…up to a point.”

“Then why don’t we step outside in the hall for a couple of minutes.”

All eyes were on the two of them as Desmond and she exited the room. She caught a glimpse of Dom in her peripheral vision and wondered if his strained expression was concern or condemnation.

Once Lt. Desmond closed the door behind them, he led her a good eight feet down the hall, then paused and confronted her.

“When Dom Shea called me in on this case, he gave me your name and I ran a preliminary check on you and found out that—”

Lausanne finished the sentence. “I served five years in the Tennessee Prison for Women in Nashville.”

“The reason I didn’t mention this in front of the others is because I didn’t figure that bit of information was anyone’s business. At least not at this point in my investigation.”

Lausanne met the detective’s gaze head-on, trying to figure out if he was on the level or if he was playing her. “Thanks. I guess.”

“If you had anything to do with Audrey Perkins’s disappearance, now would be a good time to tell me. Cooperate and I’ll do what I can to help you.”

“I’ve had all the help I want from men and that includes policemen. But I’ll tell you again, I have no idea where Audrey Perkins is. And keep in mind one thing—you don’t know that anything has happened to her. Not yet.”

“What do you mean not yet?”

“Didn’t Mr. Shea tell you that somebody attacked me in my hotel room in Palm Beach?” She glared at Lt. Desmond. “Somebody who thought I was Audrey tried to slit my throat.”

“Yeah, Shea told me. But for all I know, whoever tried to kill you was after you, not Ms. Perkins.”

“Get real, will you. Why would anybody want to kill me? But I’ll bet you could find quite a few people who might want Audrey dead.” Lausanne glanced over her shoulder and nodded toward the closed living room door down the hall. “Starting with some people in that room.”

“What happened to you in Palm Beach could have been an attempted robbery.”

“I don’t think so. This guy could have stolen everything in my suite and been gone before I returned,” Lausanne said. “No, I’m pretty sure he was waiting for me. He intended to kill me.”

Lt. Desmond studied Lausanne for a couple of seconds, then grunted. “Look, I don’t need to tell you not to leave town, do I?”

“The only place I’m going is to my apartment in East Brainerd,” she told him. “Then first thing tomorrow, I’ll be job hunting.” She could live for quite a while on the fifty grand she’d stashed away in the bank, but she didn’t want to waste it on living expenses. So, that meant finding another job ASAP.

“I’ll have Sergeant Swain take you home.”

“I can call a cab.” But before she left, she intended to get her suitcases out of Dom’s car. Audrey Perkins had told her that whatever she bought during her all-expenses-paid vacation, she could keep. She wasn’t about to hand over thousands of dollars in clothes and jewelry and…She’d bought several things that she thought any ten-year-old girl might like. Things she hoped to somehow give her daughter as gifts. But first, she had to find her child.

“Just wait around for a few minutes, okay?” Lt. Desmond told her.

She shrugged.

“After I talk to Mr. Bedell, I’ll probably have a few more questions for you.”

“If you’ve got more questions, I want a lawyer.”

Desmond’s lips curved upward in a tentative smile. “For the sake of argument, let’s say I believe you about Ms. Perkins hiring you and about someone trying to kill you, thinking you were she.”

“What are we doing, playing pretend?”

He chuckled. “From what Dom Shea tells me, you’re quite good at that game.”

Lausanne huffed. “He’s just pissed because I fooled him.” Yeah, and he fooled me, too. I thought he actually liked me and all the while he was just chasing down a runaway heiress.

Desmond took her by the arm and led her farther down the hall. Then he opened the door to the study and gave her a nudge over the threshold. “Wait in here. And don’t even think about leaving without my permission.”

“I REGRET THAT THINGS turned out this way,” Dom Shea said. “I’m sorry that the woman I found in Palm Beach turned out to be an imposter.”

“It’s not your fault,” Edward Bedell said. “Apparently my daughter is determined not to be found. She went to great lengths and some expense to put us off track.”

Cara glowered at her father. “You can’t mean to tell me that you believe that woman’s lies. Something terrible has happened to Audrey and we all know it.”

Edward groaned. “Now, Cara—”

“No, she’s right,” Grayson said. “There’s something all wrong about this. If Audrey wanted to run off with Bobby Jack Cash, she’d have simply run off with him.” Grayson shot Patrice a withering glance. “Even if she was madly in love with the man, she would hardly have given up everything for him. We all know that Audrey could never survive without Edward’s money supporting her.”

“Perhaps they’re right,” Patrice agreed. “Maybe Audrey just wanted to put a good scare into you, make you think she’d left for good, then when she got in touch with you, you’d be so relieved that you’d forgive her and accept Bobby Jack as your new son-in-law.”

“Never!” Edward all but growled the word.

Grayson turned to his father-in-law. “I think we should have Mr. Shea continue his search for Audrey. Now that his first lead unearthed an imposter—”

“I’m not sure what to do, where to go from here,” Edward said. “I’d like to know that Audrey is well and happy, but if she doesn’t want to be found…”

“What if she’s in trouble?” Cara said. “What if Bobby Jack Cash did leave with her? What if he’s keeping her from contacting us?”

“Mr. Shea,” Grayson said. “What do you recommend?”

Yeah, put him on the spot, ask him to make a decision that shouldn’t be his. Apparently everyone in the Bedell family had slightly different opinions of the situation, including their suspicions about Lausanne Raney. Was the woman telling the truth or was she lying? He didn’t have the answer to that question any more than the rest of them did.

Glancing from Grayson to Edward, Dom said, “Mr. Bedell hired Dundee’s, so the call is his. If he wants us to continue the search for Ms. Perkins, we will. If not, then my involvement in this case is over.”

“Daddy, please, do something.” Cara grasped her father’s arm.

Tensing at her touch, Edward eased his arm from his daughter’s and took a step away from her. She clenched her jaw and sucked in a deep breath, apparently making an effort not to cry.

“I’d like you to stay on the case,” Edward said. “Stay on in Chattanooga and do what you can to find out where my daughter went when she left town. And also, keep an eye on Ms. Raney. We can’t rule out the possibility that she is lying, that she knows a great deal more than she’s telling us.”

“Yes, sir.”

Before Dom could say anything else, before he could discuss the details of exactly what Edward Bedell meant by keeping an eye on Lausanne Raney, Lt. Desmond entered the living room.

Apparently having overhead the last bit of conversation between Dom and Edward, Desmond said, “I think you’re wise to keep track of Ms. Raney. Although we intend to make sure she doesn’t leave town, having someone watch her movements for the next few days will help us a great deal.”

“Then you think she’s somehow involved in Audrey’s disappearance?” Edward asked.

“Possibly. But there’s no way to be sure. I’d say there’s a fifty-fifty chance she’s telling the truth,” Desmond said.

“Which means there’s a fifty-fifty chance she’s lying,” Dom said.

Desmond grimaced. “Yeah.”

“Where is she?”

“Waiting for me to release her so she can go home. I offered for Sergeant Swain to drive her, but she said she’d call a cab.”

“I’ll take her.” The words were out of Dom’s mouth before he realized he’d even thought them.

Desmond cocked an eyebrow.

“Good idea, Mr. Shea,” Grayson said. “Don’t let that woman out of your sight.”

“I’ll want a daily report,” Edward told Dom. “On the search for Audrey and on Ms. Raney. If necessary, bring in another agent to help you. Money is no object.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll contact you daily with updates. And if I think it necessary, I’ll ask for assistance.” Dom glanced at Desmond. “May I take Ms. Raney home now?”

“Yeah, sure. And one more thing—whatever Dundee’s finds out about Ms. Perkins and Ms. Raney, keep the Chattanooga PD informed.”

“I have your cell number,” Dom said.

Desmond nodded.

LAUSANNE WAITED in the study. Tapping her foot nervously while she sat, she folded and unfolded her hands, rubbing the perspiration into her palms. Her gaze scanned the elegant room, which was like something out of a magazine or off one of those TV shows about the rich and famous. Wonder what it cost to decorate a room like this? More than fifty thousand, she’d bet.

As her gaze traveled around the room, she paused on the marble fireplace and looked upward to the gold-framed oil painting of a woman. Slender and petite, with her golden red hair styled in a sleek page-boy cut the woman was pretty but not classically beautiful. Wonder who she is? Audrey Perkins’s mother perhaps. While working at Bedell, Inc., she’d heard rumors that Edward Bedell’s first wife had been the love of his life.

When the study door opened, Lausanne jumped up, intending to face Lt. Desmond and demand he allow her to go home. But instead she came face to face with Dom Shea.

“What do you want?” She scowled at him.

“I’m taking you home.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Lieutenant Desmond is releasing you and he instructed me to take you home.”

She eyed him speculatively.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Why did he tell you to take me home?”

“To make sure you get there safe and sound.”

“And if I don’t want an escort?”

“It’s either me or Sergeant Swain,” Dom told her.

“Some choice.”

Dom reached out and grasped her arm. “Let’s go, honey. Make it easy on both of us and cooperate.”

Lausanne glanced at his hand tightly gripping her arm. “Are you still working for Mr. Bedell?”

“Yes, I am.”

“So, who wants you to keep tabs on me, Mr. Bedell or Lieutenant Desmond?”

“Both of them,” Dom replied

“I take it that they don’t buy my story about Audrey hiring me to impersonate her?”

“They’d be fools to trust you. I trusted you and look where it got me.” Dom forcefully turned her around to face the fireplace. “Take a good look at the lady you were impersonating. There’s only a vague resemblance and yet it didn’t enter my head that you might not be who you said you were. It even crossed my mind that you might have had a little cosmetic surgery.”

A tight knot formed in the pit of Lausanne’s stomach as she stared at the portrait. That was Audrey Bedell Perkins? It couldn’t be. This was not the woman who had hired her, not the redhead who’d given her fifty-thousand dollars in cash and sent her off on a spending-spree holiday.

Oh, my God!

“What’s wrong?” Dom asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I said nothing’s wrong. I just want to get out of here and try to forget about what an idiot I am. I should have known that if something seems too good to be true that it probably is.”

Why didn’t she just tell him that she now knew the woman who hired her to impersonate Audrey Bedell Perkins was not Audrey herself? Because he might not believe her. And if he didn’t, then what? Better to err on the side of self-preservation and keep quiet for now. With the realization that Audrey hadn’t hired her, the situation had suddenly gone from complicated to alarmingly convoluted.

“Is there something about that portrait that bothers you?” Dom asked.

She shook her head. “Not really. I was just thinking that Audrey Perkins and I really don’t look anything alike.”

After escorting her out of the study, Dom paused in the open doorway and glanced back at the portrait over the fireplace. Then his gaze met Lausanne’s. As he studied her closely, she realized he suspected she was lying to him. Again.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LAUSANNE HADN ’T SAID MUCH on the drive from Lookout Mountain to East Brainerd. A couple of times, Dom had tried to start a conversation, but her one-word replies had let him know she wasn’t interested in talking. Fine with him. There didn’t seem to be anything either of them could say to change the situation. Neither of them had turned out to be who the other had thought they were. Each had lied to the other, either by omission or misrepresentation. And neither trusted the other. But on some basic, sexual level, they were still painfully aware of each other, which made things worse. Much worse.

Dom had to admit that this was a first for him. He wasn’t the type of guy easily fooled or manipulated. In all his relationships, he’d held the upper hand, been the one sought after, the one who’d always been able to pick and choose the best of the best. His taste in women was fairly eclectic, but as a general rule, he preferred lovely, sophisticated, well-bred ladies. Of course, in his youth, he’d sampled a few bad girls, variety being the spice of life and all. But he knew trouble when he saw it and had learned to avoid becoming embroiled in messy personal situations.

Lausanne Raney was trouble with a capital T. Whatever the hell was going on with her, whatever brouhaha she’d created in her life, wasn’t his problem. A smart guy would steer clear, cut his losses and run. Even though keeping close tabs on her was part of his job assignment, that didn’t mean he had to become personally involved.

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