Praise for the novels of
GINNA GRAY

“Jealousy, treachery and characters one loves to hate…Gray cleverly weaves unexpected twists and turns into the narrative…. This page-turner from a seasoned romance novelist boils down to deliciously wicked brain candy.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Prodigal Daughter

“[Gray] gifts readers with a well-crafted mix of intriguing suspense and provocative romance.”

—Rendezvous

“Ginna Gray…is the perfect prescription for readers desiring strong-willed characters, emotional depth and fiery ardor.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“It’s a real pleasure to watch how cleverly Gray brings these wonderfully well-drawn characters together in this pleasurable read.”

—Booklist on The Trophy Wife

“Ginna Gray always delivers an emotionally poignant love story that is a keeper.”

—Affaire de Coeur

“Ms. Gray is one of the most consistently excellent writers in the genre today.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

GINNA GRAY
The Prime Objective

Many thanks to Patricia Smith, the editor (and friend) who bought my first book all those years ago, launching my writing career. I also want to thank my agent of twenty years, Denise Marcil. She has been my champion, mentor and friend every step of this long journey, and I will forever be grateful for her unfailing encouragement and support.

And of course, as always, I dedicate this book to my husband, Brad—the love of my life, my best friend, my rock.

Contents

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

One

He blended into the night like smoke.

His movements were nothing more than subtle ripples in the darkness. The only sound was the soft hiss of his breathing through the black ski mask.

After testing the strength of the utility pole bolted to the flat roof, Jackson Prime pulled a rope from the canvas bag slung across his chest and secured it to the metal upright. He gave the rigging a hard tug, then another. Satisfied, he moved to the roof’s edge and settled down to wait.

Through the slits in the ski mask, Jack’s piercing blue eyes fixed on the entrance to the shabby apartment building, four floors below where he knelt.

The open-air markets and shops were closed, and the bustle of the day had faded with the coming of night. Only a few groups of men, some dressed in robes, others in Western garb, strolled along the narrow streets. Few vehicles moved.

It was early yet—only a little after seven. The fierce cold of winter had set in, but the building on which he stood and the others all around still held a vestige of heat from the sun. He could feel the warmth wafting up around him, along with the sharp smells of cooling stucco, tar and dust from the surface of the roof.

A block or so away a dog barked. As customers came and went male voices spilled from the cafés and coffee-house and floated to him on the night air. Against the dark sky he could make out the faint silhouettes of three mosques rising above the low skyline of the town.

Time drifted by slowly, yet except for his gaze constantly sweeping the street below, Jack remained still. If matters were running true to form, the four men would be leaving for dinner soon.

Beneath the ski mask Jack’s mouth twitched. People were such creatures of habit. Even those who thought they were exercising extreme caution.

After almost a half hour his patience paid off. Four men exited the building and cut across the street, talking among themselves, their heads swiveling the whole time, checking out the street around them. Not once did one of them look up.

The quartet disappeared around the nearest corner. Jack waited, just in case one of them forgot something and decided to double back for it. After five minutes he grabbed the rope and went over the side.

It took him only seconds to rappel down to the third-floor balcony. Soundlessly, he slipped over the railing, secured his line, then knelt and went to work on the lock with a narrow pick. A sharp click, and he was inside the apartment.

He didn’t have much time. He’d watched the subjects for weeks and learned that they were never gone longer than a half hour. Moving through the darkened apartment on cat feet, he worked with quick efficiency. Even so, it took him a little over twenty minutes to conceal the listening devices throughout the three rooms. He was installing the last bug when he heard footsteps on the stairs and murmured conversation.

Jack’s nerves jumped, but he continued to work at a calm, steady pace. The instant he completed the job, he stood, hefted his canvas bag and slung it over his head and shoulder across his body. On his way to the door he made a visual sweep of the room to be sure he hadn’t left any signs of his visit—nothing out of place, nothing left behind that shouldn’t be.

A key clicked in the lock. Jack slipped out onto the balcony, grabbed his rope and swung over the iron railing as a light came on inside the apartment. With his feet braced against the side of the building he pulled himself up, hand-over-hand.

The instant Jack gained the roof and untied his rappelling line, he coiled the rope around his bent elbow and hand, stuffed it into his bag and took off across the rooftops.

As fast as possible, he put distance between himself and the apartment building. Nearly a block away, he stepped off the roof of a one-story structure onto a lean-to shed at the back and jumped down into the alley.

The instant his feet touched the ground he whipped off his ski mask and stuffed it into the canvas bag. Running his fingers through his flattened hair he made his way to the alley entrance and peered around the corner.

A half a block down the street three robed men walked in the general direction of his hotel. Jack stepped out onto the sidewalk and fell in step behind them, careful to keep his pace casual and maintain the distance between himself and the men.

One of the trio glanced back over his shoulder and spotted him. He nudged the man nearest him and murmured something. The other two looked back, as well.

Jack pulled out his cell phone and pretended to become immersed in a conversation as he strolled along.

The men’s murmuring began again, this time punctuated by hand gestures.

After a few blocks they turned a corner onto a street that headed into a residential area. Jack pretended unconcern, but in his business it paid to expect the worst. Just in case the three were waiting to waylay him, as he approached the corner he slipped his hand inside his bag and wrapped his fingers around the Walther PPK pistol that lay in the bottom.

Luck was with him. He reached the side street and found that the men were halfway down the block, still talking among themselves.

When he was certain that he wasn’t being followed, Jack thumbed a number on his cell phone. The call was answered on the first ring.

“Yeah?”

“Are we working?”

“Like a charm.”

“Good. I’ll report in. Then I’m going to get some shut-eye. I’ll relieve one of you guys in the morning.”

Jack disconnected, looked around again, then punched in another number. This time there was a series of clicks and buzzes as the secure call made a convoluted route around the globe and was scrambled. Finally the connection was completed, and again, the person on the other end picked up on the first ring.

“Yes?” a throaty feminine voice queried.

Ah, hell, Jack thought, a weary half smile twitching his mouth. Annie Smith had the sexiest damned telephone voice. Whenever he heard those husky tones, thanks to his starved libido, his mind immediately conjured up visions of cool sheets and hot, sweaty sex.

Annie had been his contact on other assignments in the past, and on this job he’d been reporting through her for the last five weeks. He’d never met Annie personally, but he’d heard that she was in her late fifties, gray-haired, on the chunky side and had penchants for crocheting and soap operas.

“It’s Jack. Clearance number 78C19344LZ622. Operation Rabbit Hole,” he rattled off. “We’re in.”

“Any problems?”

“None. Smooth as glass.”

“Great. I’ll pass the word along.”

“Be sure and advise that activity has increased. Something is definitely brewing. We should know soon. I’ll keep you informed.”

Jack could see the lights of his hotel ahead—the only thing close to a western-style establishment of its kind in town. Reporters from all over the globe stayed there, and since his cover was that of a photojournalist he did, as well. He picked up his pace.

He longed for a hot shower, but he’d have to settle for a soak in the ancient tub down the hall from his tiny room. No matter. Already, just thinking about sinking into a deep tub of hot bathwater, he could feel his strained muscles beginning to ease.

“Anything else?” Annie asked.

“Naw. Now we wait.” And listen, he added, but only in his mind. Not even on a scrambled line would he or any other agent say anything that might remotely tip off the other side as to what they were doing.

“You got anything for me?” he tacked on almost as an afterthought.

Annie’s pause lasted only a second, but little got past Jack, not even as weary as he was at that moment. Fatigue dropped away like a stone, and his attention sharpened. “What is it?”

“Um…nothing earth-shattering. I’m sure it can wait until you’re not so busy.”

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“It’s just a personal message for you that was passed on earlier this morning.”

“Personal?” Jack repeated, puzzled. Since he no longer had any close family and none of his friends knew how to get in touch when he was on assignment he couldn’t imagine who would be leaving him a message. “From whom?”

Annie paused again. He could almost see her biting her lower lip. “Kate Mahaffey.”

Jack stopped in his tracks less than twenty feet from the entrance to the hotel. “My ex-wife left a message for me and you didn’t think it was important enough to pass on?” he said in a dangerously quiet voice. “Why the hell didn’t you contact me the moment it came in?”

“The operative word is ex, Jack. I have to use my judgment in these matters. You’re in the middle of a critical mission. I figured hearing from the woman who dumped you could only upset you and interfere with your concentration.”

“You let me worry about my concentration. Now give me the message.”

“Jack—”

“Now.”

Annie sighed. “Oh, all right. It says—‘I need your help. If you can return in the next day or two, I’ll be at Tralee.’ There, you see? That doesn’t sound so urgent.”

Maybe not to Annie, Jack thought. But that was only because she didn’t know Kate. For his independent, self-assured ex-wife to ask for help at all—especially his help—meant something was terribly wrong.

“I want you to get me on the next government plane out of here,” he instructed without hesitation.

“What! Absolutely not. You can’t leave in the middle of an assignment!”

“The hell I can’t. I’ve got months of personal time built up. I’m taking an extended, indefinite leave, starting now.”

“C’mon, Jack, be reasonable. She probably just wants you to help her move or something like that. Or maybe to sign some more legal papers.”

The last comment was a not-so-subtle reminder that Kate had served him with divorce papers while he’d been in the middle of the most crucial assignment of his career.

Almost two years ago she’d sent him the documents through channels. Only a handful of people knew that Jack was CIA, and of those, only three had known that he was married. Annie was one of them, and she was still smarting on his behalf.

Along with the papers Kate had sent a letter informing him that she was determined to end their eight-year marriage, with or without his cooperation.

Receiving that package had marked the darkest day of Jack’s life. At the time he’d wanted nothing more than to fly home immediately and fight for his marriage, but his mission had been vital to national security.

The delicate operation had taken a lot of time, effort and careful planning to set up and had put Jack and several others in grave danger. The people with whom he’d been dealing were dangerous and brutal, and they’d known him by sight and had believed him to be one of them, which made it impossible for another agent to take over for him.

As much as Jack had longed to return home, he’d been unable to abandon the assignment. He’d had to choose between his personal life and his country. Though it had broken his heart, at the time he’d felt that he had no choice but to sign the divorce papers and let Kate go.

However, that wasn’t the case with this assignment.

The grim smile that tugged at Jack’s mouth did nothing to soften his tough face. For the past twenty-one months he’d abided by Kate’s wishes and stayed out of her life. But now that she’d contacted him, all deals were off.

“Just get me on a damned flight, Annie,” he growled.

“But, Jack, you’re on assignment.”

“So? You can have another agent here to take over for me within a matter of hours.”

“The brass isn’t going to like it.”

“Screw ’um. I’ve done my share. Either you replace me and get me on a plane or I’ll quit, but one way or another, I’m coming in.”

Two

Through the lace curtains covering the parlor window Kate watched the headlights of a car as it turned off the highway, about a quarter of a mile away. The vehicle cruised down the dirt road toward the farmhouse with unnerving slowness.

Her heart began to pound. This was the only house for miles around, and the land on both sides of the entire length of the road was part of the farm.

Granted, occasionally someone did take a wrong turn, mistaking the narrow country lane for a shortcut to the Broom City highway. It was also true that in the past, friends and neighbors had dropped in now and then to visit with her aunt and uncle. But those days were long gone. Uncle Quincy had passed away the previous year and Aunt Rose had followed two months ago.

Being childless, Rose and Quincy Dolan had willed the registered Hereford breeding farm to Kate and her sister. Since both she and Colleen lived and worked in Houston they left the running of the place to the farm’s longtime foreman, Isaiah Brown, who lived in a small cottage at the back of the four-hundred-acre property. Though fond of Kate and her sister, in his old curmudgeon way, Isaiah preferred his own company. Everyone around Elkhart, Texas knew that.

These days few people traveled this road. Certainly not at this time of night.

Kate had spent most of the past twenty-eight hours or so since her arrival pacing the darkened farmhouse and peering out the windows every few seconds. She’d tried to sleep but, except for snatches now and then, that proved impossible. Her nerves were wound too tight.

Lucky thing for her, she realized. Otherwise she wouldn’t have seen the car approaching.

Behind her, the grandfather clock chimed two. At the first bong Kate jumped as though she’d been shot, but her gaze never wavered from the vehicle.

“Drive on by. Drive on by. Drive on by,” she whispered.

Her chant did not get through to the powers-that-be. The car stopped about forty feet shy of the driveway in the shadows beneath the giant sweetgum tree that grew along the west pasture fence line. The driver doused the car’s headlights, and Kate’s chest tightened even more.

Oh, dear. This couldn’t be good.

Surprise darted through her when another car turned off the highway and headed her way. She took an involuntary step back from the window, her hand over her mouth. Dear Lord. Just how many men did it take to murder one woman, anyway? she wondered, trying to whip up her temper against the fear that bubbled inside her.

Without so much as slowing, the second car drove past both the parked vehicle and the farm entrance and disappeared around the bend in the road. Kate wanted to believe that was a good sign, but she could not help but wonder if their plan was to block every entrance to the farm before making their move.

Her gaze returned to the area where the first car was parked. The shadows beneath the tree and the rosebushes that draped the fence across the front of the property obscured most of the vehicle. All Kate could make out was an occasional glint off the top of the car when the branches of the sweetgum tree bobbed in the night breeze and allowed the glow from the front yard security light to filter through.

How many men were out there?

Without taking her gaze from the spot, Kate reached for the .30-06 deer rifle that leaned against the wall beside the window.

Moments after arriving at the farm the previous night she’d loaded her uncle’s guns and placed them and extra ammunition in strategic locations around the farmhouse. She’d put the bolt-action .22 rifle in the kitchen, the old pump-action shotgun, which was good only for close range protection, in the bedroom where she’d been trying to sleep, and just to be on the safe side, the Colt .45 single-action revolver lay on the counter in the bathroom.

And, of course, there was the .38 Special that Jack had gotten for her and insisted that she carry at all times. It was unusual for an agent’s cover to be breached, and even more unusual for his or her family to be targeted when that happened, but it wasn’t unheard of. She and Jack were no longer married, but she’d gotten used to having the protection of the gun and felt safer carrying the weapon.

Thank goodness Uncle Quincy had taught her how to shoot years ago during one of the many summers that she and her older sister Colleen had spent at the farm.

He had wanted to teach her sister, as well, but, as usual, she had been too afraid to even try. Kate, on the other hand, had taken to target shooting like a duck to water and had developed into a decent markswoman.

Her eyes narrowed. Experimentally, she lifted the weapon, placed the rifle butt to her shoulder and drew a bead on the shadows beneath the tree. If those men meant to kill her, as her sister had warned, Kate knew she probably didn’t stand a chance against them, but she wasn’t going down without a fight.

Nothing moved or made a sound for what seemed like an hour. Kate’s arms began to tremble from holding the heavy weapon in the firing position, and after a while she lowered the rifle and leaned it back against the wall. Still, she did not move. Growing antsy, she glanced over her shoulder and squinted at the grandfather clock. In the darkness she could barely make out the ivory moon face. Twelve minutes? That’s all the time that had passed?

Grinding her teeth, she refocused her gaze out the window. What the heck were they doing out there? Playing some sort of mind game with her? Waiting for her to crack?

Without warning, from behind an arm hooked around Kate’s waist and snatched her back against a hard, unmistakably masculine body. Simultaneously a large hand clamped over her mouth.

A scream exploded from her throat, but the sound was muffled against the calloused palm. Instinctively, she began to buck and kick, biting at the hand and tearing at the encircling arm.

“Easy, sugar. Easy. It’s me,” her captor whispered in her ear.

The scent of that vicelike hand penetrated her panic an instant before the familiar voice and hard contours of the male body registered on her brain. Recognition came in a welcomed rush. Kate closed her eyes and sagged back against him.

“Atta girl,” he whispered, and relaxed his hold.

Kate spun around and looked up into those vivid blue eyes that she knew so well. “Jack. Oh, Jack.”

She surged forward, throwing herself against his chest. Instinctively, she slipped her arms beneath his heavy winter coat and around his lean middle and burrowed against his chest. “Thank God. Oh, thank God. You came home.”

“Of course I did. You sent for me, didn’t you,” he murmured against the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll always be here for you if you need me. No matter what. Don’t you know that?”

She nodded against his chest, but the truth was, though she’d wanted to believe that, she had not been at all confident that Jack still felt any loyalty to her. Not after what she’d done.

Except for the condolence cards he’d sent after the deaths, first of Uncle Quincy, then Aunt Rose, Kate had neither seen nor heard from Jack since she’d divorced him almost two years ago.

At that moment, however, his embrace seemed like the safest place in the universe. She longed to stay right where she was and forget about the men outside and the terrifying call she’d received from her sister. But she couldn’t. Drawing a deep breath, Kate stiffened her spine and forced herself to release her ex-husband and take a step back. Clasping her hands together against her midriff, she gave him a wan smile.

“Nevertheless, I am grateful that you came back. I know that I don’t have the right anymore to—”

“Ssh.” Giving her one of his mysterious smiles, Jack tipped his head to one side, and his eyes glinted at her with that look that used to make her heart skip a beat—a look made up of equal parts lecherous intent and deep affection. Even now, years after she had gotten over loving this elusive, enigmatic man, her foolish heart gave a flutter.

Reaching out, Jack cupped her cheek with his hand. He rubbed his thumb back and forth along her jaw and murmured, “Hey, Mick.”

Kate gritted her teeth, trying to control the shiver that rippled down her spine. How stupid to let two simple words, uttered in that raspy growl, have such an effect on her.

Truth be told, if anyone else dared to call her Mick they’d get the sharp edge of her tongue. Possibly even a fat lip. But somehow, coming from Jack, the ethnic slur was an endearment. He’d called her that from the moment they met.

There’s no time for this, she scolded herself. Focus on the predicament you’re in, for Pete’s sake.

She opened her mouth to tell Jack why she’d asked for his help when a sudden thought sidetracked her and sent her gaze skittering around the room. “I didn’t see you drive up. How did you get in here? Where did you come from, all of a sudden?”

“I let myself in through the back door with Aunt Rose’s hideout key. Just as I suspected, it was still under the flowerpot on the back steps. You really ought to find a better hiding place.”

He nodded toward the window. “When I turned off the highway onto the road and saw those guys out there watching the house alarm bells went off, so I drove on by and came in through the east pasture. My car is out of sight in the woods behind the barn.”

“That was you?”

Kate closed her eyes. Thank the Lord, Jack’s training and experience had taught him to observe everything, even the most minute detail.

“What a relief. That means they’re the only ones I have to worry about right now.”

“You want to tell me why two dangerous-looking characters have your farmhouse staked out?”

Kate looked up into his piercing eyes and caught her lower lip between her teeth. Jack always played his cards close to his chest, which made gauging his mood next to impossible in most situations. “Well…according to Colleen, they’re trying to kill me. And her.”

She expected at least a flicker of reaction—shock, anger, disbelief. Something—but Jack merely continued to look at her, his expression as unreadable as ever.

“Well? Say something,” she demanded after a moment of frustrating silence.

“Like what? I knew as soon as I got your message that you were in a life-or-death situation of some kind. As independent as you are, anything short of that you would have handled yourself. It would never have occurred to you to ask for my help.”

Kate bristled. “That’s right. It wouldn’t have. And it’s a damned good thing that I am a self-sufficient woman, since you were never around throughout most of our marriage.”

“Hey. Hey. Take it easy, Mick. That wasn’t criticism. Just a statement of fact.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She rubbed the back of her neck and gave him a sheepish grimace. “My nerves are so frayed I guess I’m overreacting.”

“No problem.” His lips twitched in that infuriating ghost smile. “And for the record, your strength and self-confidence are two of the things I’ve always admired about you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, suspecting sarcasm, but even in the dim light she could see that he was sincere. “Thank you,” she murmured finally, feeling foolish.

“Now…who is trying to kill you and Colleen? And why?”

“I wish I knew. Two days ago I had just gotten home when I got a call from Colleen. She was in a panic, screaming, over and over, that I had to get out of my condo at once. Then—”

“Wait.” Jack held up his hand and stopped her. “I think you’d better save the rest for later. If those guys out there really are here to kill you we need to get out of here. Now. It looks like they’ve decided to make their move.”

Following the direction of Jack’s gaze, Kate looked out the window again and gasped. In the glow of the security light she saw two men walking down the road toward the driveway entrance. Both were carrying weapons.

Jack snatched up the rifle and the box of ammunition from the nearby lamp table, grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the back of the house.

“Wait. Why do we have to leave? They can’t know for certain that I’m here.” Kate tried to resist, but he towed her along with him with ease. “Jack, listen to me. I haven’t turned on any lights or gone outside since I arrived last night, and my car is hidden in the barn behind a stack of hay bales. I haven’t even let Isaiah know that I am here. Why don’t we just sit tight and not make any noise and let them think the house is empty? Surely they’ll go away then.”

“Damn, Mick, for a bright woman, you sure are naive about some things. Trust me, if those guys are killers, they’re not going to walk up and ring the doorbell. They’ll kick the door down.”

“Oh.” The weak, one-word reply was all she could manage. She trotted along behind Jack, visions of what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived when he did playing in her head with terrifying clarity.

In the kitchen he snatched her coat off the rack beside the door and shoved it at her. “You got any more weaponry around?”

“There’s Uncle Quincy’s old shotgun in the front bedroom and a single action in the bathroom.”

“Good. I’ll run get the shotgun while you put your coat on.”

In seconds he returned carrying the shotgun in the crook of his arm alongside the two rifles. He scooped the extra boxes of ammunition off the counter and dumped them into his coat pocket with the rest.

Pointing to the teal duffel bag sitting on the floor beside the back door he said, “I assume that’s yours.”

“Yes. I left Houston with just the clothes on my back. When I got here I packed some of my farm clothes and toilet articles in case I heard from Colleen and had to leave in a hurry.” Plus, the chore had given her something to do other than pace the floor. For a while, anyway.

“And your purse?”

“In the duffel.”

“If you’ve got a cell phone with you, for God’s sake, turn it off. The last thing we need is a ringing phone giving away our position.”

“Oh. Right.” Kate snatched the phone from her shirt pocket and punched the Off switch. “Okay, it’s done.”

“Good. Grab your duffel bag and let’s go. Hurry.”

She did as he said, and the next thing she knew they were out the door and racing across the back lawn.

Jack’s steady, low-key demeanor gave the impression that he never got agitated, never got in a hurry. Kate, however, was discovering just how fast he could move. He ran flat out, his long legs eating up the ground. Being pulled along with him she felt almost airborne, her feet touching the ground only now and then.

The barn sat in the pasture nearest the house, about three hundred feet beyond the backyard fence. They had almost reached the gate when they heard a crash from the front of the house.

A squeak of alarm escaped Kate. Jack did not so much as flinch.

“That pretty much erases any doubts about their intentions,” he muttered without breaking stride.

Kate didn’t have the breath to reply, but she couldn’t help but notice that her ex-husband wasn’t even winded.

“No time to deal with the latch,” he announced.

Before Kate could question the cryptic comment he scooped her up on the fly and tossed her over the fence. Her surprised squeal ended in an oof when she hit the ground and the duffel bag went flying.

The rifles came sailing over the fence and landed with a clatter a few feet away. Jack vaulted over the gate next and dropped down beside her.

“You okay?”

“You could have warned me.” Sitting up, she brushed off her jeans and massaged her stinging palms. “Isaiah harvested hay from this pasture. It’s full of prickly stubble.”

“Sorry. There wasn’t time. Just be glad you didn’t land in a cow paddie.”

“Eeeow.” Squinting through the darkness, Kate twisted and contorted, conducting a frantic inspection of her hands and clothing for any suspicious foreign matter.

“Shush,” Jack ordered, and placed his hand over her mouth.

The back screen door banged shut and the distant murmur of voices floated to them on the crisp night air. Over the top of Jack’s palm, Kate’s eyes grew wide.

With a warning forefinger across his lips, he signaled for silence and removed his hand from her face. Staying low, they gathered the duffel and weapons, inched beneath the thorny rosebushes, as close to the fence as they could get, and peered through the almost leafless stalks twined around the boards. Behind them a few cows, disturbed from their slumber by their arrival, moved like ghosts through the darkness.

The farmhouse sat in the middle of an acre of manicured lawn enclosed on all sides by a white rail fence on which hundreds of climbing rosebushes were draped. As a child Kate had teased her aunt Rose about her passion for her namesake flower, but at that moment she sent up a little prayer of thanks for the almost solid cover they provided.

The men slowly walked out into the yard, scanning the area. Each held an AK-47 angled across his chest. Kate didn’t move. She did not so much as blink.

She couldn’t make out the men’s features in the darkness. They wore dark suits and overcoats that looked expensive and ridiculously out of place on a farm. Despite their natty attire, however, there was something rough and uncivilized about the pair. They gave off an almost palpable aura of menace. Of violence.

Both men were big and beefy. The taller of the two had a bull neck. The other one didn’t appear to have a neck at all. His head sat on his shoulders like a melon.

They stopped about ten feet shy of the fence to avoid the rampant snarl of thorny rose canes that waved in the breeze. Kate held her breath. Her heart beat so hard she was certain they would hear it.

“You see anybody?” the taller man asked.

“Naw.”

“Yeah, well, keep your eyes peeled. The boss said that both women may be here.”

“Maybe. But I doubt it. Only one bed’s been slept in.”

“That don’t mean nothing. They probably took turns standing watch. But one or both of ’um was here. An’ from the looks of the firepower in that house, they’re probably packing.”

“I’m telling you, they made us. By now they’re long gone. We shoulda drove right up, rushed the house and kicked in the damned door, like I wanted to, instead of sittin’ out there in the open casin’ the place.”

“An’ I told you, the boss wanted us to keep a low profile and not draw attention to ourselves.”

“Attention? From who? A bunch of cows? There ain’t no other houses around here.”

“Just ’cause you can’t see ’um don’t mean nothin’. There could be a dozen places hidden in these woods. Hell, those women could be hiding out there in the trees. Or in that barn. Why don’t you go take a look?”

“Me! Why me? I ain’t goin’ out there. There’s cattle out there. Maybe a bull.”

“You afraid of a bull?” the tall one questioned with a snicker.

“You ever seen one of them rodeo shows on TV? Bulls can run fast. I can’t. Even if you shoot the sucker it can still do some serious damage before it goes down. You want the barn checked, do it yourself.”

The taller man appeared to consider, then shook his head. “Naw. You’re probably right. They ain’t here.”

“Huh,” Melon-head grunted. “That’s what I thought.” He fished a cell phone out of the inside pocket of his coat. “I’ll call the boss an’ tell ’im we struck out.”

Relief left Kate weak.

“It’s me. Nobody here, boss. Somebody’s been here, but there’s no tellin’ who or when or if it was one or both of ’um. Anyway, whoever it was, they’re gone now. Could be they made us and took off out the back.” There was a pause, then, “Hell, yes, we was careful. As careful as we could be, but stakin’ out a place up here in shitkicker land ain’t easy. There ain’t no other people or cars or buildings around. How’re we suppose to blend in?”

Another pause followed, this one longer than the first. Finally the man bobbed his melon head and said, “You got it, boss. See you then.”

He disconnected and returned the cell phone to his coat pocket. “The boss said head back to Houston. He wants us at his place by three tomorrow afternoon. He’s got another job for us.”

“Yeah? Who’re we gonna pop this time?”

“You’re gonna love this.” A hard smile stretched Melon-head’s thick lips. “It’s the bigshot. We’re not ’spose to kill him. Just give him a little tune-up to keep him in line.”

“Great,” the taller man said. “This is one job I’m gonna enjoy the hell out of. C’mon, let’s go. All this rural crap gives me the willies. The sooner I get out of kicker country the better.”

Through the tangle of rose canes Kate and Jack watched the men walk away. The instant they disappeared around the back corner of the farmhouse, Kate made a move to stand, but Jack jerked her back down. “Be still.”

“Why? Shouldn’t we get out of here?” she whispered back. Before Jack could answer Kate felt something cold and wet touch the side of her neck.

“Eeee—”

“Jesus.” Jack slapped his hand over her mouth and cut her off midshriek, and the curious cow that had nudged her gave a startled bellow and skittered away a few feet.

The two men popped back around the corner of the house.

“You heard that, right?”

“Yeah. What the hell was it? It didn’t exactly sound human. Man, this place gives me the willies. All these thick woods and animals around.”

Cautious, guns raised, the men started walking back toward the pasture fence. Jack looked around, picked up a clod and sent it sailing in a sharp, side-handed pitch. The missile hit the cow in the backside, and the startled animal gave an indignant bawl and trotted away.

The men stopped walking. “Shit. It was just a cow,” Melon-head said. “You see, I told you there was cattle over there.”

“An’ I told you there was no point in hiding around the corner waiting around for those Mahaffey women to come out of hiding. Like I said, they ain’t here. So c’mon. Let’s get the hell outta here an’ head back to civilization.”

This time Kate remained motionless and silent beside Jack and waited while the men returned to their car. From where they were crouched they could not see the sedan, but after what seemed like an eternity they heard the car engine turn over and headlights came on out on the road. Jack kept a restraining hand on Kate’s arm while the car pulled forward and turned into the driveway, then reversed out again and headed back down the road toward the highway. Even then they stayed put until the taillights disappeared.

“Okay. Let’s go. And stay low,” he whispered finally, latching onto her hand.

Kate’s instinct was to run hell-for-leather in a beeline for the woods behind the barn, but Jack towed her across the pasture in short bursts, running between the milling cattle, from the fence to a stack of hay bales, to a watering trough, to the old farm truck parked next to the barn, to the cattle chute that led into the dipping vat. The sporadic, zig-zagging route confused Kate at first—until she realized that Jack was using the objects for cover. Which meant that he still wasn’t convinced that the men had given up.

That brought another wave of terror and a fresh burst of adrenaline that put wings on her feet.

Three

Kate felt somewhat safer once they entered the trees, but Jack’s pace did not slow. By the time they reached his vehicle, about fifty feet inside the woods, she had a stitch in her side and her lungs were on fire.

In the darkness deep inside the woods she didn’t see the black SUV until she almost bumped into it. At once Kate knew that it was government property and probably specially equipped with the latest surveillance and espionage technology. Agency vehicles were nearly always black or gray and Jack always drove one when he was stateside.

“I’ll stow this with the rifles,” he said, taking the duffel bag from her.

A grateful nod was all Kate could manage. She scrambled into the front seat, put her head back and closed her eyes and gasped for breath, her heart pounding against her ribs.

She felt the vehicle rock when Jack climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. She had expected him to take off like a bat out of hell. Instead she felt the vehicle ease forward at a crawl.

Kate opened her eyes and sat up straight.

“Aren’t you going to turn on the headlights?”

“Not yet.”

“But…we saw those men drive away.”

“We saw someone drive away. There could have been only one of them in that car. The other one could have stayed behind, hoping you’d think they’d both gone and return to the house. That’s what I would’ve done.”

“Oh.” So much for feeling safe.

Perched on the edge of the seat, Kate gripped the dashboard with both hands and leaned forward, squinting to see through the darkness. The roads that crisscrossed the farm were nothing more than worn, one lane tracks, created by years of driving trucks and farm equipment from one pasture to another. The swath of woods through which they were driving angled across the property from the northeast to the southwest. Trees and forest undergrowth grew right to the edge of the path, in some places so close that low hanging branches scraped the top and sides of the SUV.

“You’re going to hit a tree in the dark,” she cautioned, wincing at a long screech of wood on metal.

“Stop worrying. I have excellent night vision. It’s a requirement in my line of work.”

Yes, Kate thought. It would be for someone who spent a good part of his life prowling the dark alleyways of the world. As always when she allowed herself to consider that part of Jack’s life, an aching knot lodged in her chest.

No. She wouldn’t think about that. Deliberately pushing the image aside, she returned her gaze to the black void beyond the windshield and her attention back to her more pressing problem.

“Back there, how did you know those men hadn’t left?”

“I didn’t. It’s just safer to be prepared for the worst.”

“And that’s the way you want to live your life? Always expecting the worst?” The questions were no sooner voiced than she gritted her teeth. Dammit. You’re doing it again.

“It’s not a matter of want. It’s a matter of necessity. And the operative word is live. Which I’m still doing. So being prepared for the worst must work.”

Kate pressed her lips together and kept silent for the remainder of the drive through the woods.

At the far edge of the forest the track opened onto the dirt road that ran in front of the farmhouse and bisected the property—only this gate was around a curve from the main entrance.

Jack brought the SUV to a stop within the shadows of the trees. Reaching behind the seat, he removed a pair of binoculars from his knapsack and scanned the road in both directions.

“It’s so dark. There’s not even a moon out tonight. How can you see anything through those?”

“They’re night-vision binoculars. I can see everything.” He took his time, examining every inch of the road, every bush, tree and shadow. “It looks clear,” he finally announced and returned the binoculars to the knapsack.

They bumped over the cattle-guard and out onto the road. After a mile or so the dirt lane ended at a paved county road, and Jack turned left. Contrary to Kate’s expectation, he waited until they’d crested a hill and started down the other side before turning on the headlights.

Relaxing her grip on the dash, she sighed and scooted back in the seat, grateful that they would not end up in a bar-ditch or wrapped around a telephone pole. Her relief vanished, however, when she caught Jack checking the rearview mirror every few seconds.

“Are they following?” she asked, checking the passenger side mirror for herself.

“Doesn’t look like it. The road’s empty in both directions.”

“Thank God.”

“Okay, now that the excitement is over, why don’t you finish telling me what’s going on,” he suggested as calmly as though they were discussing the weather.

Kate gritted her teeth. For Pete’s sake. They’d just run for their lives from vicious killers. You’d think the man would at least be a tiny bit agitated. It wasn’t healthy to always be so in control of your emotions.

“As I told you, I have no idea,” she replied with a tad more bite than she’d intended. “Honestly. I don’t,” she insisted when he shot her a skeptical glance. “I was going through my mail when I got a call from my sister and all hell broke loose.”

“Okay, let’s start with that. Tell me, word-for-word if you can, exactly what Colleen said to you.”

“All right. I’ll try.

“It all started Saturday evening around six-thirty. I had been in Dallas all week meeting with buyers for Neiman Marcus and other stores, showing some new designs. I had just gotten home and was sorting through the mail when my cell phone rang. Before I could finish saying hello Colleen started shrieking at me…”

“Kate! Where are you?”

“I’m at home.”

Colleen groaned. Then the words came tumbling out of her, frantic and intense, breathless. “Listen to me, Kate. You have to get out of there right now. They’re on their way over there to kill you!”

“What? Who’s on their way over? What are you talking about?”

“There’s no time to explain. Just go! Go! Get out of the condo!”

“Colleen, for heaven’s sake, will you calm down and tell me what’s going on?”

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” her sister chanted.

In the background Kate heard the dull rumble of vehicles and horns and other traffic noise, and her unease grew. Colleen was not the most competent of drivers at the best of times. Behind the wheel of a car in her current state she would be a danger to herself and everyone else on the road.

“Colleen. Colleen! Stop that! Snap out of it and talk to me!”

After a couple of hitching breaths her sister continued in a panicked voice, “S-some men came into the store a few minutes ago at closing time looking for us. For you and me. I was in the office when I heard the commotion. I peeked out to see what was going on. Oh, Kate,” she sobbed piteously. “They—they were beating Bobby.”

“What! Who was beating Bobby?”

“I don’t know! I’d nev-never seen them before. But no matter how hard they hit him, Bobby wouldn’t tell them where to find us. So they…they…oh, God, Kate, they shot him!” The last came out on a rising wail of anguish and fear that made the hairs on the back of Kate’s neck stand on end.

“You saw someone shoot Bobby? Oh, my God! Is he…?” Kate bit her lower lip, afraid to finish the question.

“He’s dead,” her sister cried. “When I sneaked out through the connecting door to your studio he was lying facedown in a pool of blood. And we’re next! I heard the one in charge tell the others to go to your condo and take care of us.”

“Oh, my word!” Kate gripped the phone tighter, real fear beginning to ripple through her.

“They’re going to kill us!” Colleen cried, on the verge of hysteria. “Just like they killed Bobby. Now will you please get out of there?”

“Why don’t you just call the police?”

“No!” she screeched. “We can’t do that! I heard them brag to Bobby that their boss has policemen and FBI agents on his payroll who would take care of us themselves if we showed up at either agency.”

“But—”

“No! Don’t you understand? There’s no one we can trust!” With every word Colleen’s tone increased in volume and shrillness, in direct proportion to her growing fear. “I want you to promise me that you won’t contact the authorities. Not any of them.”

“But—”

“Promise me, Kate!” she screeched. “Promise!”

The primal fear that gripped Colleen was palpable, even through the phone. The grating sound of her breathing broke Kate’s heart and sent a chill down her spine. She couldn’t stand for her to be so terrified. “All right. I promise.”

“Oh, thank God,” Colleen panted, and Kate could tell that she was almost faint with relief. “Now get out of there. Now. Please! I’m begging you.”

“Okay. I just unpacked from my trip, but I’ll throw some things in a bag and—”

“No!” her sister shrieked again. “There’s no time to pack! They’ll be there any second. Just go! Go! Go! Now! Go!”

“All right, all right. Calm down. I’m going. But you stay on the line, okay?” Kate grabbed her purse and bolted out of the door, pausing only long enough to lock it behind her. “I’m out. I’m heading for my car.”

“Good. Hurry. And take the stairs. Those men could already be in the elevator.”

“Oh. Right. Good point.” As if on cue, Kate heard the ping of the elevator, located down the hall and around the corner in the center of the building.

It could have been Miss Lula Belle from next door, or one of the other tenants on the seventh floor, but she wasn’t willing to chance it. Reversing course, she made a dash for the fire exit at the opposite end of the hall. Once inside the stairwell she flew down the concrete steps as fast as her feet would move.

“Okay, I’m heading down to the parking garage,” she said into the cell phone. “Now talk to me. What’s going on? What’s behind all this?”

“Oh, God, Kate. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I handled this wrong. This is my fault.”

“What’s your fault? What did you do?”

“I should have told you, no matter how angry it made you. You would have known what to do,” Colleen sniffed. “I see that now. But…well…you said you wanted me to make my own decisions. And I really thought I could handle it. Now look what a mess I’ve made of everything.”

“Handle what? What are you talking about, Colleen?” Kate’s patience was wearing thin, but she strained to hold her temper in check. She knew from experience that if she pushed her sister too hard she would dissolve into hysterical tears and that would be the end of the conversation. Besides, the last thing Kate wanted to do was to upset her any more than she already was. Especially when she was driving.

“Look, take a deep breath and calm yourself. Then explain to me, nice and slow, what has happened.” Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Kate eased the door open a crack and scanned the parking garage. Satisfied there was no one around, she slipped out into the cavernous space and made a dash for her car, beeping open the locks on the way.

“I…I can’t tell you. The less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

Kate detected the obstinate note in Colleen’s voice and almost groaned. Her sister may not have much self-esteem or confidence, but she had stubbornness and guilty conscience down to an art form.

“I’ll handle this,” Colleen declared shakily. “I got us into this mess, and I’ll get us out of it. Somehow. Just go to Tralee and stay out of sight. I’ll call you when I’ve figured it all out.”

“Look, why don’t you meet me somewhere and we’ll both go to the farm. We’ll put our heads together and come up with a plan.”

“No. If we’re together and they track us down we’ll both be killed. If we split up there’s a better chance that one of us will survive.”

“It won’t come to that. C’mon, sis, let me help—”

“No. I’m not going to put you in any more danger than I already have. I’ll take care of this.”

“But—”

“You’re in your car, right?”

“Yes.” Kate realized that her sister had heard the car door close and the engine start. She backed out of her parking slot and headed for the exit. “I’m on my way.”

“Good. Stay safe. And, Kate…I really am sorry.”

“No, wait! Colleen! Don’t hang up!”

Kate looked at Jack and spread her hands in a helpless gesture. “But it was too late. She’d already disconnected.”

“That’s a helluva story.”

“I know it sounds crazy. And I’ll admit, at first I was merely humoring her to calm her down, but the longer we talked the more I began to believe that we both really were in danger.”

“What convinced you?”

The back road ended at State Highway 19, and Jack turned right toward Palestine, but Kate was too distracted to notice.

“For one thing, the state she was in.” She met Jack’s gaze in the dim glow from the dashboard. “I’ve seen and heard my sister when she was afraid before. Hundreds of times. You know what a timid soul Colleen is. But I swear, Jack, this was different. She was terrified out of her mind. Almost incoherent.”

“So you believe that Bobby really was shot? That he’s dead?”

Blinking back tears, Kate nodded. “After tonight, I don’t think there’s any doubt. Poor, sweet Bobby. He never hurt anyone in his life.”

Three generations of Mahaffeys had owned and operated Mahaffey’s Interiors, a wholesale building and decorating supply store in Houston. Bobby Sloan had worked at the store for thirty-six years. Kate’s grandfather had hired Bobby as a favor to his mother, Margaret Sloan, an old family friend.

Bobby had been slow and in many ways childlike, but he’d been hardworking, reliable, honest and he was absolutely loyal. Over the years, especially after Margaret passed away, he had become almost one of the family.

“Where was Ed during all this?” Jack demanded. “Didn’t he come to Bobby’s aid at all? And where is he now? With Colleen?”

“Ed? Why would he—Oh. That’s right. You don’t know. Colleen and Ed are separated. She filed for divorce four months ago.”

“No kidding? Good for her. It’s about time.” Jack frowned and sent Kate a piercing look. “Wait a second. What did that bastard do to her? God knows, Colleen should have kicked Ed’s ass to the curb years ago for the way he treated her, but she didn’t. So what happened that changed her mind?”

Kate twisted her hands together. Her sister was a shy, private person. Humiliated by what had happened and disgusted with herself for not getting out sooner, she wanted to keep the details quiet, but if anyone had a right to know it was Jack. After all, in the past, he had done all he could to protect Colleen from Ed.

“Well?” Jack prodded.

“Five months ago Ed beat Colleen again,” Kate replied in a subdued voice. “Despite your warning, the abuse never really stopped. He was just careful to hit her where the bruises weren’t obvious. This time he nearly killed her.”

Jack shot her a steely-eyed glance. Only the tiny muscle working along his jaw and his white knuckles revealed his anger.

“And?”

“Afterwards he left her, barely conscious, and went out for a drink. To cool off, he said later. And, of course, he blamed the whole thing on her. He said that Colleen had provoked him.

“Yeah, right.” Kate snorted. “Like that was difficult. All she had to do to set him off was exist. The sorry, vicious, lowlife son-of-a—”

“You’re getting sidetracked, Mick. You don’t have to convince me that Ed Baxter’s an asshole. Finish your story.”

“Oh, right. Well…if Colleen hadn’t somehow managed to knock the telephone receiver off the hook and pressed the speed-dial button for my number I’m not sure she would have survived.

“When I picked up the phone all I heard on my end was moaning, so I raced over to their house. I found her on the floor, unconscious and battered. There was blood everywhere and…” Kate closed her eyes. “Let’s just say…she was a mess. I called 911 for the police and an ambulance.

“Thank heavens they got there before Ed came back. The paramedics rushed Colleen to the hospital and the police waited for Ed and arrested him.”

“What kind of damage did he do this time?” Jack asked.

“She had to undergo emergency surgery to repair a tear in her esophagus. He also broke two of her ribs, her collarbone, her nose and cracked her cheekbone. Plus there were various other contusions and cuts and both of her eyes were swollen shut for a couple of days.” Kate shuddered and stared straight ahead into the darkness beyond the windshield. Recalling how her sister had looked still gave her chills.

Jack reached across the space between the seats and gave her arm a squeeze. “She’s lucky she had you.”

“I suppose. But to tell you the truth, once I knew that she would recover, I was furious with her. A part of me still is.

“Dammit, she should have left him long ago. She knew that we—that I would have helped her. But all that worthless animal had to do was shed a few crocodile tears and vow that it would never happen again, and she would forgive him and the whole cycle would repeat itself.

“It was always the same—he would beat her, then be full of remorse, they’d reconcile, there’d be a brief period of him being all lovey-dovey to her, but before long his true nature always emerged and the abuse started again.”

Kate clenched her fists and made an exasperated sound. “It was maddening. And so difficult to watch. I love my sister, but I swear, Jack, most of the time I wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. Even at the hospital, as concerned about her as I was, I was still angry.

“Something had to be done. I knew that if she stayed in that marriage he would eventually kill her. So that night I took matters into my own hands.

“I had to act fast. I knew that as soon as Ed posted bail he’d be hunting for Colleen.”

“Whatever you did, it obviously worked. How did you convince her?”

“By the time she woke up after surgery I had our attorney at her bedside and round-the-clock off-duty policemen guarding her door.” A wry grimace twisted Kate’s mouth. “Poor thing. I lit into her before she could say a word. I told her that Mr. Atwood had a restraining order and divorce papers drawn up and ready to file. And if she didn’t sign them and give Ed the boot this time I would never speak to her again. That I was through picking up the pieces. From that point forward she would be on her own.”

“Yeah, right. Tell me another one.” The look Jack slanted her way was rife with wry amusement even though his lips didn’t move. “You’re incapable of turning your back on your sister and you know it. Don’t tell me that Colleen fell for that.”

“All she said was, ‘Show me where to sign.’ Actually, she had to write it. She couldn’t talk.”

“Good for her. It’s about time.”

“Yes, well, I have to admit, she was so weak she couldn’t put up much of a fight.

“After David Atwood left to file the petitions I started worrying that Colleen’s quick agreement had been the anesthesia and the pain medication talking, but the next day she was wide awake and still determined. She hasn’t wavered from her decision.

“To be honest, I think she’d already made up her mind on her own. Ed’s violence was escalating, and she realized that she probably wouldn’t survive another attack.”

Jack shook his head. “Talk about learning a lesson the hard way.”

“I know.”

After a short pause Kate added, “There was one bright spot in all this, though. Ed was served with divorce papers, a restraining order and a pink slip all at once while still in jail. And I went along with the process server and watched.”

Jack glanced at Kate and chuckled at the look of hard satisfaction on her face. “I would’ve enjoyed seeing his reaction to that.”

“Trust me, he was livid. All he could do was rage and rattle the bars like the animal he is.

“I made it my business to attend his arraignment, too. At first he pleaded ‘not guilty’, but later, at trial, he changed that to ‘no contest’ after the ADA entered into evidence the photos that I’d taken of Colleen at her home before the medics arrived and at the hospital, before and after surgery.

“Just as I expected, the restraining order turned out to be worthless. The moment Ed bailed out of jail he ignored the order and came storming into the hospital. You wouldn’t believe the scene he created when he tried to charge past the guard. That, fortunately, got him rearrested and his bail revoked. He had to cool his heels in jail until his trial, which was fortunate for Colleen.

“But even from jail he managed to harass us. He called Colleen’s and my cell phones constantly and filled up our voice mail with heavy breathing calls. We both finally had to cancel our phone service and go to prepaid phones just so we could make a call now and then. Trust me, we’ve given those numbers out to only a few key people.”

“Good move. That’s going to work to our advantage. Those things are impossible to trace. If we are dealing with bad cops or agents at least they won’t be able to trace her movements or yours through phone records.”

“Oh, good. We need all the breaks we can get.”

“So…what kind of sentence did Ed receive at trial?”

“Oh, wait until you hear this! Because Colleen had never pressed charges before, the judge treated the case as a first offense. Ed got ninety days in county jail and a severe lecture. Big woo.”

“Has he stayed away from her since he got out?”

“Yes and no. Since his release about a month ago he’s been working for Goldrush Homes, a contact he’d made while working at Mahaffey’s Interiors. Unfortunately, it’s a job that requires him to pick up orders at the store. We went to court and tried to bar him from the premises, but the judge decreed that we couldn’t interfere with his livelihood. However, he does have to give us notice before he makes a pickup so that Colleen can leave the premises.”

“What about when she’s home? If he knows she’s alone in that house what’s to keep him from harming her there?”

“That worried me, too. Which is why I moved her into the condo with me when she was released from the hospital. At the store there are always employees around and I spend as much time there myself as possible.

“I leased the commercial space adjacent to the store and moved my design studio there. I also had a connecting doorway cut through the common wall between my office and Colleen’s. The arrangement has worked out great. I can keep up with my own design work and run my business and still be there for her.”

“You’re kind of delicate for a bodyguard, don’t you think?” Jack drawled.

“Maybe so, but Ed knows that I’m licensed to carry a weapon and that I keep my .38 and a stun-gun with me at all times. He also knows that I won’t hesitate to use either, especially on him.”

“What happens when your business takes you out of town like it did last week?”

“I’ve cut back on traveling as much as I can. In the past four months I’ve managed to limit my trips to two. The rest of the time I’ve sent Jennifer Warren, my assistant. When I absolutely have to be gone Colleen stays with Jennifer at her place.

“I called Jennifer on my way to Tralee. She told me that just a short while earlier Colleen had come flying through the connecting door like a bat out of hell and yelled over her shoulder on her way out the back that she wouldn’t be staying with her that night. Jen was surprised, but she didn’t question her. She didn’t have a chance. The wall between my studio and the store is soundproof, so she didn’t hear the shots or the commotion.”

“How much did you tell her?”

“Not a thing. I just said I was taking some time off and for her to man the office until I returned. I thought the fewer people who knew about this the better.”

“I agree.”

“I could tell that she was curious, though, possibly even a little flustered and upset about having everything dumped on her without notice, but she’ll hold down the fort. She’s the most dependable assistant I’ve ever had.”

They reached the outskirts of Palestine, and Jack turned north off of Highway 19 onto the Loop. “This stuff about the police and FBI agents being involved is worrisome.”

“Do you think it’s true?” Kate asked.

“It’s possible, I guess. I’ve seen people do some pretty awful things for money. On the other hand, those guys could’ve just been bluffing Bobby, trying to make him talk.”

“Maybe. But Colleen is convinced. She got so upset the only way I could calm her, even a little, was to promise that I wouldn’t call the authorities.

“That’s when I knew I had to contact you and ask for help. I’m sorry I’ve involved you, Jack, but I didn’t know what else to do. I have no idea how to deal with this. Or how to find my sister.”

“It’s okay, Mick. I’m glad you sent for me. Really,” he assured her. After a moment he asked, “Have you tried calling Colleen since that night?”

“Only about a hundred times. I’ve left messages, too. But she’s not responding.

“I’m worried, Jack. I have no idea where my sister is.”

Kate’s voice quavered on the last few words. Jack reached across the space between their seats and squeezed her hands, which she was twisting together in her lap.

“Hey, take it easy, Mick. Don’t go borrowing trouble. One thing we know for sure is, they haven’t found her yet. Those guys back there were half expecting her to be with you.”

“That’s true. But all the same, I’m really worried about her, Jack. She’s so timid. She’s not used to fending for herself or being on her own.”

“Take it easy. Colleen may be a gentle soul but she’s smart—just like all you Mahaffey women. We’ll find her. And when we do we’ll get to the bottom of this and straighten everything out.”

Kate put her head back on the neck-protector and closed her eyes, willing her taut muscles to relax. “I hope you’re right.” She turned her head on the rest and looked at Jack’s strong profile. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue. I didn’t know where else to turn.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, okay? I’m glad you got in touch with me. It’s been a long time.”

The gaze he turned on her held a world of unspoken thoughts and guarded emotions. Kate knew that he was thinking about the last time he had heard from her, but he returned his gaze to the highway and fell silent.

Tension began to creep back into her muscles. She knew Jack. He was biding his time, waiting for the right moment, but sooner or later he would bring up the subject of their divorce and demand some answers. She had known that would happen when she’d sent him that message.

Kate turned her head and gazed out the side window at nothing, her jaw clenched. She owed him an explanation. She knew that. But the last thing she wanted, especially now, was to dissect their marriage and explain her actions to Jack. Doing so would serve no purpose other than to stir up bitter feelings. Their marriage was finished and she’d moved on. She assumed that Jack had done the same.

He’d certainly honored her request that he stay away from her, something she hadn’t really expected he would do.

A tiny frown creased her forehead. How, she wondered, had he known about Uncle Quincy and Aunt Rose’s deaths? She had no doubt that Jack had been working in some armpit country halfway around the world at the time, yet after each death she and Colleen had received flowers and cards from him.

At the traffic signal at the junction of the Loop and the Tyler highway Jack turned left, and for the first time since leaving the woods Kate took note of the landscape on either side of the highway. Her frown returned. “Where are we going? If we’re going to find out anything we have to go back to Houston.”

“And we will. But except for catnaps on government planes, I haven’t slept in over two days.” He shot her a dry look. “And frankly, Mick, from the look of you, I’d say you haven’t, either. And since I don’t want to risk overtaking those two goons on the highway, we’re going to get a hotel room here in Palestine and get some rest, then head for Houston tomorrow.”

“A room? Oh, I don’t think so. If you think I’m sharing a bed with you, Jackson Prime, forget it.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“True. But we’re not married anymore.”

“That wasn’t my choice.”

“Jack—”

“Oh, lighten up, Kate. You’re safe. I’m too tired to seduce you tonight. I’ll get us a room with two beds.”

“But—”

“Sorry. That’s the best I can do. No way am I letting you out of my sight until this is over.”

“But…shouldn’t we start trying to find Colleen?”

“Sweetie, everyone needs to sleep now and then. Even bad guys. This way we’ll start fresh in the morning.”

Kate knew he was right. God knew, she was exhausted, and certainly Jack was after traveling halfway around the world through several time zones. He had to be suffering major jet lag. Still, the need to find her sister ate at her. She doubted she would sleep a wink for worrying.

The hotel that Jack chose was a worldwide, moderately priced chain, but it was the newest and nicest hotel in Palestine.

The instant they entered the room Kate claimed dibs on the shower and disappeared into the bathroom with her duffel bag.

With his hands hooked over his lean hipbones, Jack stared at the closed door with a hint of amusement on his angular face. You can run, sweetheart, but you won’t escape. Our time of reckoning has arrived.

After removing what he needed, he hung his weekender bag in the cubbyhole of a closet, double-checked all the locks on the doors and windows, then stretched out on one of the beds to wait, ankles crossed, fingers laced beneath his head.

About a half hour later the bathroom door opened and Kate emerged in a roiling cloud of steam, redolent with the scents of soap, shampoo, toothpaste and sweet, clean woman. A halo of wet ringlets framed her scrubbed face and she wore a knee-length, long-sleeved, flannel nightshirt.

Nice try, Mick, Jack thought, biting back a grin. He had no doubt that she was going for dowdy and nonsexual, but she looked adorable.

“It’s all yours,” she announced.

Jack rolled to his feet, grabbed his toiletry kit and headed for the bathroom. At the door he stopped and looked back at her. “I won’t be long. When I’m done we still have some talking to do.”

The flash of panic in her eyes told him that she knew exactly what the subject would be. Regaining control quickly, she nodded and murmured, “All right.”

Jack was tempted to linger under the cold spray. He had barely slept for two days, he was tired, every muscle in his body ached and to top it all off it had been ages since he’d enjoyed the luxury of an American shower. But he’d waited a long time for this showdown with Kate.

In just under ten minutes he stepped out of the bathroom rubbing his wet hair with a small towel and a bath sheet wrapped around his middle…and found his ex-wife curled into a ball on the bed, sleeping like a baby.

Jack stood beside the bed and watched her, frustrated and disappointed. And enchanted.

It was a compliment, he supposed, that she felt safe enough with him that she could relax and give in to sleep, which she obviously hadn’t done in days.

Unable to help himself, he reached out and ran the end of his forefinger along the tips of her eyelashes, which lay fanned out on her cheeks. Then he touched the spattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose. Kate didn’t so much as twitch.

Finally, heaving a sigh, Jack rolled her to the center of the queen-size bed, pulled back the covers, then scooped her up and tucked her in between the sheets and pulled the covers back up to her shoulders. With a wry smile tugging at his mouth, he smoothed her damp curls off of her forehead.

“You win this round, Mick. But our reckoning is coming.”

Kate made a sleepy sound and burrowed her face into the pillow.

Four

A sliver of morning sunlight sliced through the gap in the black-out drapes and drew a line across the bed where Kate slept. Slouched in a chair, Jack sat in the shadows, watching her.

Funny how merely looking at her made him happy, he mused. Being near her made him feel…whole, somehow. Alive. As though she filled an aching empty place in his soul.

She’d had that effect on him from the beginning.

Remembering that first encounter, the barest hint of a smile flickered over Jack’s mouth. In his early twenties he’d been restless and craving adventure and had wanted to see the world, footloose and fancy free. With that goal in mind he’d made the decision never to marry. Joining the agency after college had cemented that choice.

Then, four years later, he’d met Kate.

From the moment he first saw her he’d been drawn to her like metal shavings to a magnet. They had been at a party at the Houston home of a mutual friend, and from all the way across the room he’d noticed that she seemed to glow from within with a vitality that was irresistible.

Without waiting for their host to introduce them, he’d taken matters into his own hands and strolled over to her group, inserted himself between her and the man with whom she’d been talking and, before she realized his intent, maneuvered her away to a secluded corner.

Within moments he’d been smitten. After dating her for only a few weeks he’d been forced to revise his life plan. The mere thought of a life without Kate in it had been unbearable.

He’d always supposed it was some sort of poetic justice that he’d fallen so hard and so fast. And that Kate had not rushed into his arms, as so many a woman had before her. Though he did not think of himself as being particularly good-looking, up until that point he’d never had to pursue a woman.

However, Kate was not one of those women who needed a man to complete her or support her or take care of her. She had far too much self-esteem and confidence for that.

And why not? She’d come from a stable family, every member of which loved and supported her. She was smart, educated, talented, socially adept and ever since he’d known her she’d had a successful career of her own making.

Even back then, at the young age of twenty-four, she’d already begun to carve out a name for herself as a designer of fine diamond and gemstone jewelry. These days her designs were sold in high-end jewelry stores all over the country and she was often commissioned by wealthy patrons to do one-of-a-kind pieces.

No, winning Kate had not been easy.

But then, he’d been prepared to do whatever it took to persuade her to marry him. Hell, he would’ve gotten down on his knees and begged if it had come to that.

Jack’s gaze slid over Kate’s face like a caress. She looked about eighteen, with her face scrubbed clean and rosy with sleep and those long lashes lying against her cheeks like little fans. Her lips were bare and slightly parted, her short auburn hair mussed.

She wasn’t truly beautiful, he supposed. Her nose was too short and splattered with freckles and her mouth was too wide and full for classic beauty. Even so, she had an irresistible appeal. Maybe it was those big, expressive green eyes that made his insides melt. Or that impish grin, complete with a dimple at each corner. They even winked at you whenever she talked.

Beautiful? No. What she was was downright adorable.

She was also passionate, feisty and absolutely fearless—frighteningly so at times.

Kate had a tendency to leap into a fray before she thought. Whenever she felt that she was in the right or encountered an injustice she’d wade right in, all one hundred and five pounds of her, and stand toe-to-toe with anyone, no matter who, when, where, how much clout they had or how big and intimidating they were. When riled, his ex-wife was like a fearsome little terrier.

Jack was just grateful that in her current situation she’d recognized the serious danger that she and Colleen were facing and had the good sense to know that she was in over her head and needed help.

Although…he could imagine just how much it had galled her to call on him.

Kate made a soft sound and shifted in the bed. Jack’s frugal smile flickered again. The small protest was a sure sign that her morning waking ritual was about to begin.

For all her energy and drive, Kate was not a morning person. When fully awake—a state which took a hearty breakfast and at least two cups of strong coffee to achieve—she was a little dynamo. However, when that active mind finally shut down she slept with the abandon of a child, sinking deep and clinging to mindless oblivion as long as possible.

She shifted again, then rolled onto her side and tried to burrow her face into the pillow. Seconds later she rolled onto her back again. After another minute or two of squirming she heaved a sigh and gave up.

Yawning, she stretched one leg then the other, then raised her arms over her head and, in a slow, sinuous motion, arched her back and made a purring sound.

Jack’s arousal was instantaneous.

Aw, hell, Mick. You’re killing me here, he groaned to himself.

Unlike his ex-wife, he had not slept well the previous night, despite exhaustion and a cold shower. Awareness of Kate just a few feet away in the next bed had nearly driven him nuts.

Relaxing her body, she slumped back onto the mattress, but an instant later she cried out and jackknifed into a sitting position. “Jack!”

“Easy, Mick. Easy. I’m here,” he murmured.

Her head snapped toward the sound of his voice. “Oh.” She gave him a rueful look and raked the fingers of one hand through her hair. “For a minute there I thought…”

“What? That I’d deserted you? Left you high and dry with no warning? I would never do that to you.”

Kate’s sheepish expression vanished. She shot him a sleepy but sullen look. “That was a dig at me for the divorce, wasn’t it? For the way I handled things? You are still angry.”

“Maybe. But then, I have a right to be, don’t you think?”

Pressing the heels of both hands to her temples, Kate squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. “I knew it. I knew it. I should never have contacted you. I knew I’d regret it,” she muttered.

Dropping her hands, she sent him a bleary-eyed look. “If that’s the way you feel, why did you bother to come home at all? Or did you just use my request for help as an excuse to confront me? If that’s the case, you can leave right now. I have more pressing matters to deal with than your lingering resentment.”

“Resentment?” Jack gave a mirthless chuckle. “Sweetie, that doesn’t even come close to what I felt when I received those divorce papers. But we’re not going to have this discussion just yet. Not until you’ve had some coffee and are wide awake. You see, I believe in fighting fair.”

“I’m not going to discuss the past with you, Jack,” she mumbled, knuckling her eyes. “What’s done is done, and there’s no going back. In fact, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need your help. I want you to leave.”

“Feeling brave this morning, are you? Amazing what a good night’s sleep can do for your outlook. Well, too bad. I’m staying.”

He unfolded his lean frame from the chair and stood up. “While you get dressed I’ll run downstairs and get us some breakfast from the buffet.”

In a blink her drowsy bravado vanished and she glanced at the door. “But what if—”

“Ah, not so courageous after all, huh. Well, don’t worry. You’ll be safe alone for a few minutes. Those guys are most likely back in Houston by now. But even if they aren’t, they don’t know about me or that I’m with you. They won’t be looking for my vehicle or for a married couple, which is how I registered us, by the way. Under the name of Mr. and Mrs. Justin Pardo, which is one of my aliases. You see, being married does have its advantages,” he added.

“Oh yeah. Just so you know, I have passports and all sorts of photo IDs in that name with me. Along with several others. In case we need them.

“For now, though, there’s no need to be afraid. From the buffet table in the lobby I can see both the elevator and the outside doors. No one is going to get past me. So shake-a-leg, Mick. If you’re not dressed by the time I get back I’ll take that as an invitation,” he added with a suggestive glance toward the bed.

It took a second for the comment to penetrate her muzziness, but when it did she reacted with her usual spunk. “Forget it, Jackson. That’s not going to happen.”

Shooting him an annoyed look, she dragged herself out of the bed, plucked up some clothes from the duffel bag and stumbled into the bathroom.

On his way out Jack heard the lock on the bathroom door shoot home with a decisive snap, and he chuckled. Who was she trying to keep out? he wondered. The bad guys or him?

Ten minutes later he returned to find the bathroom door still shut. He rapped his knuckles against the panel. “It’s me, Kate. I have food.”

Silence.

Jack might have been concerned if he hadn’t known Kate so well. “Coffee, too.”

After another beat of silence the door opened and she emerged, tight-lipped and silent. Automatically, Jack made mental note of every detail of her appearance.

For a woman who designed jewelry, Kate wore little herself except when she presented her designs to prospective clients or went to gala affairs. Day-to-day she rarely wore more than earrings and a couple of rings. This morning she wore simple gold teardrops in her lobes and a fine gold chain around her neck. Not a ring in sight, Jack thought with a bitter glance toward her left hand.

Only marginally tamed, her hair framed her face in an auburn halo of soft curls. As usual, her makeup was minimal—blush, lip gloss and a few sweeps of mascara. Kate had long ago given up on trying to hide her freckles.

She wore sneakers, jeans, a long-sleeved, blue-and-yellow plaid flannel shirt over a fitted little yellow T.

“Breakfast is served,” he announced, and made a show out of pulling out a chair for her at the tiny table in the corner.

The combined scents of soap, toothpaste and floral shampoo wafted to Jack’s nose as Kate stepped around him and sat down. Standing behind the chair, he bent to scoot the chair in beneath her and inhaled a deep breath. Instantly desire surged through him again.

He gave a mental curse and gritted his teeth. Nothing, it seemed, not even anger, could override his attraction to this irresistible, maddening woman.

She smelled heavenly and she looked fresh and wholesome and so damned cute with her little nose in the air and that pouty mouth that he ached to toss her onto the nearest bed and ravish her.

Instead he sat down in the other chair. As though he hadn’t a care in the world, he helped himself to a muffin and a heap of scrambled eggs.

Neither Jack nor Kate spoke. She did not so much as look at him throughout the meal. Though set, her expression was calm, but he knew that her quick mind was busy searching for a way to avoid the discussion they were about to have.

Jack took his time, but when he finished eating he poured them both a third cup of coffee, then leaned back and eyed Kate.

“Well?”

“I’m not in the mood, Jack.”

“Too bad. We’re not leaving this room until we have a talk. I had hoped to get this over with last night, but you were sound asleep by the time I got out of the shower.

“I came here to help you, Kate and I promise you, I will do everything I can to find out what’s going on and to protect you. Colleen, too, when we find her. But the price you have to pay is an explanation. Which is long overdue.

“C’mon, Kate,” he prodded when she remained silent. “You’re a fair person. You owe me that much, and you know it.

“Actually, that whole affair wasn’t like you. You’re not cruel or self-serving, but hitting me with a divorce when you knew I wasn’t in a position to do anything about it was both. So what possessed you to blindside me that way, Kate?”

Her chin snapped up. “Would you have given me a divorce if I had waited until you came home and asked you for one?”

“Of course not.”

“There’s your answer. I was trying to avoid a big fight.”

“I don’t get it. Why did you want a divorce? We had a great marriage. We enjoyed each other’s company. Our sex life was terrific. We got along well. Hell, we’ve never so much as had a serious disagreement. So what was the problem?”

“What do you think the problem was, Jack?” Kate challenged.

He could see that she was striving to hold on to her composure and keep the discussion civilized. That in itself told him that her temper was on the rise, but he’d be damned if he could figure out what she had to be angry about. He was the injured party here.

“You’re going to have to enlighten me because I don’t have a clue,” he said with a nonchalant shrug that hid his pain. How could she have done this to him? To them? “Our marriage was fine when I left the last time.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Jack. It wasn’t fine. And the fact that you are unaware of that should tell you something. I didn’t just wake up one morning and say to myself, ‘Gee, I think I’ll divorce Jack.’ The problem had been building for years, almost from the beginning. I was unhappy! No. Not just unhappy. I was miserable.”

“Miserable how?”

“I was always alone. And lonely.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. “That’s it? That was your big problem?” Jack shook his head. “I don’t believe this.”

“Whether you believe it or not, it’s true.”

“Okay, let me see if I’ve got this straight. You missed me, so you divorced me. That doesn’t make any sense, Kate.”

“Jack, you were hardly ever home. You’d be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time, then show up out of the blue, stay a few days. If I was really lucky, a week or two. But then you’d be off again. I never knew where you were or what kind of dangerous mission you were on. I couldn’t even call you or write to you except through channels, and I was always aware that every word was monitored. And you’d go long periods of time without bothering to get in touch with me.”

“I called when I could, Kate. You know that. I also came home when I could. If my long absences were a problem why didn’t you say something?”

“It’s not as though I didn’t try, Jack. But every time I brought up the subject you would cajole and tease me and turn my concerns into a joke. Either that or you’d distract me by seducing me. After a while I realized that you didn’t want to hear that there was a problem. Because if you knew you might have to make some changes.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I? I don’t think so. I used to tell myself that eventually things would get better. That either you’d get tired of the constant stress and danger or that you’d get too old for field work and the agency would reassign you.

“Then September eleventh happened.

“Of course, I knew immediately that things were only going to get worse, and they did.”

“I’m sorry, Kate, but it couldn’t be helped,” he murmured, watching her. “We were scrambling after that attack.”

“I know. I know. That’s why I kept quiet for so long. But then months turned into years. Finally I realized that I couldn’t wait forever. As much as I loved you, I simply couldn’t live in limbo any longer.”

Her use of past tense made Jack’s stomach knot. Despite the divorce, he’d believed that, deep down, Kate still loved him. What they’d had together had been too deep and powerful to just disappear. Ever since he’d received her message, he’d been certain that, on some level, perhaps even a subconscious one, she regretted whatever impulse had driven her to end their marriage and wanted him back.

Fear gave his voice a harsher edge than he intended. “So you just threw away an eight-year marriage?”

The accusation snapped Kate’s tenuous control over her temper. She shot to her feet and began to pace and wave her arms. “Don’t you get it, Jack? What we had wasn’t a marriage.”

“What? That’s crazy. Of course we were married.”

“Oh, no. Marriage is about a couple building a life together, being there for each other through all the pains and joys and all the everyday, mundane minutiae that is part of living. Most of the time you were halfway around the world and I was alone in Houston. I didn’t feel as though I had a husband. Just a part-time sex partner. Yet I wasn’t single, either. I was just a toy that you kept on a shelf and took down now and then when you had time to play.”

“That’s not fair, Kate. You knew what my job was when you married me.”

She stopped pacing and glowered at him with her fists planted on her hips. “Oh, don’t give me that! You weren’t entirely forthcoming, and you know it.

“When we first met all you said was that you worked for the federal government. Silly me, I assumed you meant in some sort of legal or advisory capacity, or maybe you were with the diplomatic corps. Whenever I asked questions I got half truths and evasions. It wasn’t until we were engaged that you finally revealed that you were CIA, and that sometimes you would have to make trips out of the country. What you failed to explain was that was spook speak for ‘I’ll be gone more than I’ll be home.’”

“C’mon, Kate, you’re exaggerating. I was not away that much.”

That impudent little chin lifted again. “Oh really? Do you have any idea how many days you spent at home during the last year of our marriage?”

Jack shrugged. “Off the top of my head, no, I don’t know the exact number.”

“Well, I do. I kept track. It was exactly forty-seven days.”

“What? That can’t be right,” he protested, but uneasiness began to creep in.

“Oh, it’s right, Jack. Trust me.

“I’m thirty-four years old. By this stage of my life I expected to have a couple of children. But you weren’t home enough to get me pregnant.”

“Ah, so that’s it. That biological clock thing.” The pressure in Jack’s chest eased, and he looked her over with a lecherous gleam in his eyes. “If it’s babies you want, I can help you with that, Mick. We can get started right now.”

He made a move to stand up, but she stopped him with a raised hand and a searing glare.

“Forget it, Jack. That ship has sailed. And don’t you dare trivialize my feelings by turning them into a joke. Not this time. Not ever again.”

“Sorry.” He sat back in the chair, his expression rueful. “I guess I never realized how serious you were about having kids. I always thought you were talking in general terms. You know…something we’d get around to someday.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The blunt statement took him by surprise. There was so much anger burning in her green eyes that Jack experienced a sudden fear stronger than any he’d ever encountered on his job, even in the diciest of situations.

“I think you deliberately tuned me out,” she continued, lifting her chin a notch higher. “The same way you tuned out every attempt I made to talk to you about the excessive time we spent apart, the way you always tune out when you don’t want to talk about something.

“I don’t think you want children at all, Jack. When I made it clear that I wanted to start a family your agreement was nothing more than lip-service to pacify me and shut me up.”

She took up her agitated prowl again. “You didn’t want anything to interfere with the convenient arrangement you had going for you. You had a nice little wife at home to take care of any domestic responsibilities and duties that came up and to provide sex and companionship when you could find time to come home. The rest of the time you were free to have your adventures and traipse all over the globe.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? Don’t you find it odd that a man who has been trained by the best information-gathering organization on the planet to take note of every single thing, right down to the tiniest detail, to decipher hidden meanings behind every word, to read every subtlety and nuance of human behavior, failed to notice that his own wife was unhappy?”

Jack stared at her, an uncomfortable sensation that he couldn’t quite identify squeezing his chest. As usual when he found himself cornered he assumed an unworried demeanor and responded with glib reason.

“Hey, when I’m home I’m not on duty.”

“Tell me another one, Jack. That training is so ingrained that it’s second nature to you to read people and situations.”

His inability to come up with an adequate response deepened his discomfort and gave his voice a rough edge. “Maybe I’m not as perceptive as you seem to think I am. But regardless, before taking a step like getting a divorce, you should have tried harder to make me understand that you were unhappy. If you had we could have worked out something and avoided all this pain and heartache. On both sides.”

“Worked out what, Jack? Was I supposed to demand that you cut your assignments short? We both know that’s not possible. Or should I have asked you to give up field work? Or quit the agency altogether?”

She gave a derisive snort. “Please. I may not know exactly what it is that you do—nor do I want to know. Imagining was bad enough. But I am aware of how important your job is to national security. And I know that you’re good at what you do and that you think of it as your duty. For you, quitting the agency would be tantamount to treason. I couldn’t put you in that position.”

“Even so, I would have quit to save our marriage.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” she shot back. “But if I had pressured you into giving up field work and you’d settled into a desk job you would’ve hated every minute of it. Even if you could have stuck with it, which I seriously doubt, eventually you would’ve grown to hate me, as well.”

“Never.”

“So you say now, but I think it would have come to that. Ours was a lose/lose situation, Jack. If we stayed together one of us was guaranteed to be miserable.”

“Ah, I see. So your answer was to get a divorce and make both of us miserable?”

“I can do without your sarcasm,” she snapped back. “And yes, divorce is heartbreaking. But eventually time erases that pain.

“Jack, listen to me. No matter how it may appear, my decision was not an easy one. I thought about it long and hard. Finally I accepted that it was time to cut my losses and get on with my life. You need to do the same.”

“Just tell me one thing. Is there someone else?” Somehow he managed to keep his tone conversational, but merely asking the question made him feel murderous.

She shook her head. “No. Not yet. But I won’t lie to you, Jack. I have been dating. Nothing serious yet, but I’m looking. I’m hoping that someday soon I’ll meet a nice man who wants a home and a family.”

“I see.” He looked at her in silence for an interminable time. On the surface he knew that he appeared calm, but his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth hurt.

He had intended to play his cards close and not tip his hand, but the thought of Kate making a life with someone else, loving another man, having children that weren’t his, was so unbearable he blurted out, “I want you back, Mick. I’m willing to accept a transfer. I can place a call right now and make it happen. My decision. Not yours. We’ll go through another wedding ceremony and start over.”

“Oh, please. Who’re you trying to kid, Jack? You nearly choked just getting that out. Had it been any more difficult you would have had to ram your hand down your throat and pull the words out. So don’t tell me it’s your decision. We both know that you would never have made that offer if it weren’t for me.”

“I still mean it.”

“Maybe right now you do. But I know you, Jack. You’ll grit your teeth and dutifully put on a suit and tie every day and go in to the office. But within six months you’ll either go stark, staring mad or come up with an excuse to return to undercover work. You’re addicted to the danger and the intrigue. And the agency will back you up. You’re a valuable asset to them in the field.”

Kate stopped pacing, and the vice around Jack’s heart tightened as he watched her anger fade into sadness. She held his gaze and shook her head slowly. “It took me years to gather the strength to end our marriage. I won’t be drawn back into that unhappiness again.”

Turning away, she walked to the room’s only window and looked out, her arms folded over her middle.

He stared at her back, her unyielding posture, struggling to breathe. “So that’s it? We’re through?”

“Jack, we’ve been through for over a year. Ever since the divorce,” she said so gently that he could have shaken her.

He had an almost irresistible urge to rant and rave and declare that this whole thing was crazy, that when two people loved each other the way they did there had to be a way to work things out. But even stronger was the worry that if he pushed her she might give voice to his worst fear—that she no longer loved him.

Taking risks, international cat-and-mouse games, even life-and-death situations—he could handle all those. But hearing Kate utter those words was something he didn’t think he could take.

“I see. Well then, I guess our conversation is over,” he managed with what he thought was admirable aplomb. He stood up. “I guess we’d better get our things together and head for Houston.”

“Jack.” Turning back from the window, Kate gazed at him with a mixture of regret and sadness. “I’m sorry. I—”

“Hey. Don’t worry about it. You did what you had to do to protect yourself.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a wan smile. “Yes, I did.”

She paused, and seemed to be waiting for him to say something more. Keeping his head down, he continued to stuff his dirty clothes into an outside pocket on his hangup bag, and after a moment she added, “For what it’s worth…I’m glad we had this talk.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“It not only cleared the air between us, it made me realize how unfair I’m being to you. I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I’m sorry. I was in a panic and not thinking clearly when I sent you that message. My safety and well-being are no longer your responsibility. I can’t ask you to risk your life to protect me, Jack. So…if you’ll just…well…maybe give me a few pointers on how I can go about finding Colleen you can go back to your assignment and—”

“Forget it, Kate,” he snapped, his nonchalant mask crumbling. “Hell, you won’t last another twenty-four hours on your own. And if I went back now I’d be useless. No, strike that. I’d be worse than useless. I’d be a liability to the other agents on the project. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the mission for imagining you zipped up in a body bag.

“So do me a favor and shut up about handling this situation on your own. Just save your breath and pack your things and let’s get on with it.”

Five

Kate flipped her cell phone closed. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she turned her gaze out the passenger window. Absently she noticed that they’d reached the northern edge of Houston.

Dammit, she felt so…so frustrated. So helpless. Since leaving Palestine almost two and a half hours ago she’d called her sister eight times. Eight! All with the same result. Nothing. She wanted to scream.

Dammit, Colleen. Where are you? And what have you gotten us into? And why the devil won’t you turn on your phone?

Jack wasn’t helping matters. Beyond an abrupt yes or no or an occasional grunt in response to her attempts at conversation, he had barely spoken to her the entire trip.

Not that she blamed him. He had a right to be angry. It had been unfair of her to end their marriage as she had. And now she’d dragged him halfway around the world, away from his job, and embroiled him in a deadly game of who-knew-what. She had taken shameless advantage of his feelings for her when she had absolutely no right to do so.

But no matter how much guilt she heaped upon herself, she could not see how she could have done anything different. Except to die—a long, lonely death in the case of her marriage, or a quick, violent one at the hands of those men.

Kate sneaked a peek at Jack out of the corner of her eye. As usual, his expression was unreadable. He needed a haircut, she noticed. His normally short hair curled over his collar and the tops of his ears and an errant lock flopped onto his forehead no matter how many times he raked it back with his fingers.

Her gaze ran over his angular face and traced his strong profile. At once she experienced a familiar shiver of pleasure. A lot had changed between them, she thought, but not that. Though she didn’t love him anymore, Jackson Prime was still the most deliciously virile man she had ever met.

Unable to help herself, Kate continued her inspection, her gaze traveling downward over that hard body that she knew so well, skimming over narrow hips and long legs, then making the return trip, eventually settling on his hands, gripping the steering wheel.

She had always been fascinated by Jack’s hands. They were long fingered and wide palmed, large and competent and graceful, in a thoroughly masculine way. Like the rest of him, the skin on his hands was bronze, the backs sprinkled with short, black hairs. Hands capable of great strength and stunning gentleness.

Another shiver rippled through Kate at the memory of how those hands had touched her in the past.

She forced herself to look away and focused again on the gas stations, strip malls and fast food joints zipping by. Her mouth twisted. No, the chemistry between them hadn’t changed. Jack was the only man in the world who could light her fire without so much as a touch.

And whenever he put his mind to seducing her she didn’t stand a chance. She’d always been a sucker for his roguish charm.

Which was the main reason she’d gone about ending their marriage as she had, and why she’d insisted that Jack not contact her after signing the divorce papers. Getting over him had been the most difficult thing she’d ever done. She’d known that she couldn’t risk falling in love with him all over again.

Kate sighed. This powerful attraction had been there from the beginning—from the moment their eyes first met—and time had done nothing to diminish the heat.

But that wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

“Still the same, huh?”

Kate jumped, her gaze shooting to Jack. Dear, Lord! Had she spoken her thoughts aloud? To her chagrin she felt her cheeks burn.

“Wh-what?”

He nodded toward the cell phone in her hand. “No answer.”

“Oh. Um…no.” She felt like a fool and at the same time limp with relief. “Either Colleen has turned off her cell phone or it needs recharging. Like me, she took off from the store with nothing but her purse and the clothes she was wearing so she probably doesn’t have a charger with her. She could pick one up almost anywhere, but since she’s so tight with money and she doesn’t want to give me a chance to talk some sense into her anyway, my guess is that she hasn’t.”

“Hmm. Speaking of her spending habits, you wouldn’t happen to know how much money she has with her, would you?”

“No. Why?”

“Because being on the run gets expensive. She’ll have to start using credit cards before long. They leave a paper trail. If you know which cards she has I may be able to use my credentials to get that information from the issuers.”

“Colleen doesn’t have credit cards anymore. The ones she used to have were in Ed’s name. After she filed for divorce he canceled hers.”

Kate huffed. “The jerk. Like she was going to run up a monster bill on him. Colleen wasn’t the big spender in that marriage.

“Anyway, ever since the split she’s been on a ‘cash-only’ basis.”

“Then we’re screwed. And so is she. She’s not going to be able to hide out for long unless she has a wad of money in her purse.”

“Ha. That’ll be the day. Trust me, Colleen was broke the first time she stopped for gas. My sister considers fifty dollars a big bankroll. Whenever we go out together for lunch I always have to lend her money because she refuses to carry a lot of cash.” Kate thought for a moment. “Although…she does have a debit card on the store account.”

“All right. Now you’re talking. That could be even better than credit cards.”

“But, Jack, I’ve never known her to use it. She keeps it just for emergencies.”

“Trust me, this situation qualifies. So…is her personal bank account healthy?”

“My guess would be, not particularly. Ed used to control their finances—big surprise—and kept her in the dark.” Kate’s jaw clenched. “Even now, when I think of how she turned over her salary and every penny of her share of the profits from the business to that lazy bum it makes me furious. She was so…so…cowed by him.”

“Don’t be so hard on her, Mick. Colleen isn’t like you. She doesn’t have your spunk. Anyway, considering the abuse she took from Baxter, you can’t blame her for doing whatever it took to survive.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that I wish—”

“Hey, wishing won’t get us anywhere. Let’s deal with what is.”

“You’re right. Sorry.” She sighed and returned to the subject. “It was only after Colleen filed for divorce that she found out how reckless Ed had been with their money and how close to the wire they had been living month-to-month. Apparently he spent every dime they made.

“I still can’t figure out where all their money went. Even factoring in the big house and fancy cars that Ed just had to have, they still should have had plenty of cushion. The store has been doing really well for years, what with the boom in the housing market.”

“Maybe our boy Ed’s a closet gambler,” Jack offered. “Or maybe he’s been keeping another woman on the side.”

“Oh please.” Kate did an eye-roll. “Surely there can’t be another woman gullible enough to fall for Ed’s slick line. What a depressing thought.”

“Agreed. But it’s possible.”

“I guess. Anyway…since Colleen’s been living with me she’s been trying to build a nest egg. Nowadays, except for what she needs to cover bare living expenses, every dime she brings home gets socked away.”

“Socked away where?”

“Oh, in mutual funds, money market accounts, her retirement account. That sort of thing.”

“Where it’s not easily accessible. Good.” At the freeway interchange, Jack exited Interstate 45 and took the 610 Loop west around downtown Houston.

“Why is that good?”

“Think about it. If she doesn’t have credit cards and her personal account is puny and she’s not in a position to draw from her investments, what other source would she have?”

“Ah, I see—the store’s operating fund.”

“Bingo. Every debit card transaction is recorded, of course, so there’s still a paper trail, but information on those accounts is closely guarded by banks.

“If the bad guys really do have cops and agents on their payroll it’s still going to take a court order for them to gain access to those records, and no judge is going to grant that kind of order without a damned good reason.”

“What if they claim that Colleen was kidnapped?”

“They’d have to have some sort of solid indication of a kidnapping to convince a judge—a ransom note, a recording from a tapped phone, something like that.

“At the very least they’d need a missing persons report filed by a family member. In this case that would be you since you’re next of kin. But even if they forge one it may not be enough. In the eyes of the law, a person going missing doesn’t necessarily mean a crime has been committed. An adult is free to walk away from his or her life if they choose to do so.”

“Colleen would never do that.”

“I know that and you know that, but a judge won’t.

“That’s not to say whoever is behind this couldn’t get a court order eventually. Although, my hunch is they’re more likely to bribe a bank employee to pull the records for them. Trust me, if they don’t find you and Colleen soon they will go after that information any way they can. Hopefully, we’ll get there first. Which is why the bank is going to be our first stop.”

For over eighty years the Mahaffey’s Interiors account had been handled by Alamo National Bank. As one of the bank’s oldest and most valued customers Kate, along with Jack, was ushered into the office of the bank president, Oscar Hurley, without delay. If their unscheduled arrival had been an inconvenience or in any way disrupted Mr. Hurley’s day it was not evident from his effusive greeting.

“Ms. Mahaffey. How nice to see you, again. Please, come in, come in,” he exclaimed. He stepped out from behind his desk and strode across the enormous Oriental rug with his hands outstretched, meeting her in the center of the large room.

A big man with a shock of silver hair, a stately bearing, a good-ole-boy smile and shrewd eyes, Oscar Hurley looked every inch the Texas gentleman.

Clasping her outstretched hand between both of his, he gave it a pat and smiled. “This must be my lucky day.”

Usually whenever Kate or her sister came to the bank to do business they dressed to impress in heels and sophisticated suits and a tasteful piece or two of Kate’s jewelry. If Mr. Hurley was surprised by her casual attire he had the grace and good manners not to let it show.

Kate introduced Jack, and the men shook hands. Though Mr. Hurley and Jack had never met, the banker knew perfectly well who he was and that their marriage had ended, yet once again he concealed his curiosity and didn’t question why they were together.

“Please, won’t you sit down?” the banker asked when the greetings were over, waving toward the maroon leather Queen Anne chairs in front of his desk.

Mr. Hurley’s corner office was the size of a small house. Around the oversize Oriental rug, dark, wide-planked wood floors glowed with a patina of age and care. The two inner walls of the office were lined with thick, walnut paneling while the outer two were made up mostly of floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows, framed by heavy brocade draperies that could be drawn closed when needed. From the high, coffered ceiling hung an enormous bronze and etched crystal chandelier that looked as though it had come out of a medieval castle. The smell of old leather and lemon polish pervaded the air. Everything about the room screamed money. And power.

When they were settled Mr. Hurley returned to his seat behind the massive desk, folded his hands on its shiny surface and smiled. “Now, then. What can I do for you?”

Kate and Jack exchanged a look and, as they had agreed in the car, Jack did the talking. “We have a serious problem and we need your help. You see, two nights ago…”

Jack launched into an edited version of the chain of events that had brought him and Kate there. In the beginning Mr. Hurley’s expression showed polite interest, but that quickly morphed into shock and concern, then genuine horror.

“Why, that’s terrible. Colleen actually witnessed a murder? That poor child. She must be terrified.”

“Yes. And running scared right now. Which is why we are anxious to find her. Kate called on me for help because I have the skills and experience to keep her and her sister safe and investigate the situation. However, let me stress to you, sir, that in order to do that it is imperative that we keep this quiet and out of the newspapers.”

“Yes, of course. Rest assured, what you’ve just told me will not leave this office,” Mr. Hurley pledged. “However, I’m not clear on how I can be of help.”

“Kate and I are certain that Colleen has very little cash with her. Soon she’ll need to get her hands on some. My guess is she’ll use her debit card on the Mahaffey’s Interiors operating account. As co-proprietor of that account, Kate has full access. With help from you, we hope to track Colleen’s movements by the locations of her purchases.

“Which is where you come in. We want you—and only you—to keep us informed of the location of each and every activity on the account as soon as they are electronically posted.”

Half expecting the banker to hum and haw and quote some nitpicking banking regulation, Kate was surprised when, without the least hesitation, he swiveled his chair to face the computer on the corner of his desk.

“Excellent idea. Why don’t you come around here and look over my shoulder and we’ll get started.”

Kate shot to her feet and hurried around the desk and Jack followed right behind her. At last they were doing something that might lead them to Colleen. Or at the very least, point them in the right direction. She was so anxious her heart pounded against her ribs.

In his sixties, Mr. Hurley was of Kate’s father’s generation, and Joe Mahaffey would not have touched a computer if you had held a gun to his head. She had expected the banker to share the same aversion and call his secretary into the office to retrieve the data, but the older man’s fingers flew over the keyboard with a speed and agility that surprised her.

“Ah, here we are.” The account record filled the screen and he began scrolling down. “Let’s see, now, you wanted to start last Saturday after seven in the evening. Ah, here it is. At 8:11 p.m. there was a charge of $47.24 at a gas station in LaGrange, Texas.”

“LaGrange?” Jack frowned in thought. “She must have gotten out of town on Interstate 10 then turned north on Highway 77 at Schulenburg. Looks like she’s trying to avoid the main roads. Probably worried they’ll be watching those.”

Kate glanced over her shoulder at him. “Will they?”

“Depends on how much manpower they have, but anything’s possible.”

“Just a little over an hour after that, at 9:30 p.m., there was a charge of $229.34 at the Wal-Mart in Giddings,” Mr. Hurley went on.

“Clothes and toilet articles would be my guess,” Jack murmured. “Maybe some food.”

“Just fourteen minutes after that, at 10:44, there’s a charge at a Giddings motel.”

Jack glanced at Kate. “Is there any reason why she would go to Giddings?”

“None that I can think of.”

“Any friends there?”

“I don’t know of any.”

“Hmm.”

“Maybe she’s heading for Austin,” Mr. Hurley suggested. “Giddings is on Highway 290 between Houston and Austin.”

“It’s possible. It could also be that at that point she didn’t yet know where she was going. Most likely she was in shock. Considering how fragile Colleen is, she probably just lit out of Houston like a cat with its tail on fire and drove without any thought as to where she was going or how she’d get by. Could be by this point she was simply too tired to keep going.”

Mr. Hurley scrolled down the screen. “You may be right. She’s not heading for Austin. Sunday morning at 10:22 she charged gas in Brady, Texas.”

“She’s still sticking to the back roads,” Jack muttered. “Smart. You keep it up, darlin’.”

“The next charge is at 6:45 Sunday evening. She filled up with gas in Big Springs, Texas,” Mr. Hurley continued. “Twenty minutes later she made a purchase at a fast food place, and seven minutes after that she checked into a Big Springs motel.”

“And—” He scrolled down the screen. “—that’s it. So far today there’s been no activity on the account.”

“Do you have a map handy?” Jack asked.

“Hang on a second.” Mr. Hurley rummaged through the middle drawer of his desk and after a moment withdrew a large leather-bound, ringed binder. “There are detailed maps of every state and all the major cities in here, along with a clear plastic overlay and a dry ink pen so you can plot your route.”

He gave them a wry smile. “This was a gift from my grandchildren last Christmas. They seem to be laboring under the mistaken idea that I’m going to retire soon and take their grandmother on an extended cross-country driving trip. Here. Take it.”

“Oh, no, we couldn’t take your gift,” Kate said when he handed the notebook across the desk to Jack. “We’ll pick up a map at a bookstore.”

“No, please, take it. Trust me, my dear, you’ll get more use out of it than I will. Just between us, I’d rather be burned at the stake than take a long driving trip.”

The discussion turned to strategy, and they agreed that Mr. Hurley would check the account frequently and call them with the information. After the three exchanged cell phone numbers, Kate and Jack left the bank.

Kate practically sprinted to the car. Once inside she expected Jack to start the engine immediately, but he sat motionless, staring straight ahead, deep in thought. Unable to contain herself, she snapped, “For Pete’s sake! What are you waiting for? We need to get going.”

He turned his head and fixed her with his steady blue gaze. “Going where?”

“After Colleen.”

“Not yet.”

“What! But—”

“Look, Mick, she has almost a two-day head start on us.”

“All the more reason to go after her now, before she can widen the gap.”

“Okay, say we go to Big Springs. Then what? From there she could have taken off in any direction. She may even be doubling back by now.”

“She could just as easily have decided to hole up there,” Kate argued.

“Maybe. Although I doubt it. My gut tells me that she’s still panicked and running aimlessly. My hope is that soon she’ll calm down enough to devise a plan and head for a specific destination.” Jack started the engine and put the SUV in Reverse. “But, if you’re right and she is staying put we’ll know it the next time she makes a purchase and Mr. Hurley relays the information.”

“And if she’s left Big Springs?”

“Then we continue to track her movements.”

“But, Jack, Colleen is out there all alone and terrified.” Kate’s voice broke on the last word and she had to press her lips together to keep them from quivering.

These past two days she’d been worried sick about Colleen, but now that she had a general idea of where her sister was, she was more anxious than ever. All she could think about was finding her. Protecting her.

Though Colleen was older by twenty-two months, Kate had always protected her.

In the second grade Kate had whaled the tar out of a little boy who had made her sister cry, and in their teens she’d hovered over her like a broody mother hen, double dating with her, confronting anyone who dared to bother her.

The pattern had continued through the years. As teenagers, Kate had been the rebel child, the daredevil who’d given their parents more than a few gray hairs. Colleen had been the docile, obedient one.

Even so, Joe and Maureen Mahaffey had worried no less over their eldest daughter. All of her life Colleen’s painful shyness made her cling to the familiar, the safe.

After high school she had gone directly into the family business, claiming that for her, college would be a waste of time because she could learn all she needed to know from their father and on-the-job experience. Privately, Kate believed that the idea of going away to a strange university, in a strange town, where she knew no one, had simply been more than her sister could handle.

Over the years, no amount of prodding or confidence-boosting pep talks or assertiveness training or therapy had brought Colleen out of her shell.

The only place she was remotely comfortable making decisions was the family business, which she knew inside out. Yet even there, ever since their parents had died and she had assumed the position of manager, more often than not, she still sought Kate’s opinion.

Looking out for her sister had become an ingrained part of who Kate was, and even though Jack’s reasoning made sense, the need to head west was eating her up inside.

One glance at Kate’s anguished expression and Jack brought the SUV to a jolting halt, backed halfway out of the parking slot. He reached across the space between them and cupped her wobbly chin. “Take it easy, Mick,” he murmured. There was so much tenderness in his eyes and deep, gravelly voice that the tears she was struggling to control spilled over. Solemnly, he wiped one away with his thumb.

“Look, sweetheart, I know it’s tough to wait, but it makes no sense for us to go chasing after Colleen until we know, or at least have a fairly good idea, where she’s heading. When we do, we’ll go after her. If we use a direct route and drive straight through we shouldn’t be too far behind her.”

“Why not fly? We’d catch up with her faster.”

“Because we can’t take our guns on a commercial airline, and from what I saw last night, we may need them.”

She winced, fear skittering down her spine. She wanted to argue, but she couldn’t, and after a while her shoulders slumped. “You’re right. I guess we don’t have a choice but to wait.”

“Good. I’m glad you agree. In the meantime, I think we should check out the scene of the crime.”

Kate’s eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness! The store! I’ve been so concerned about Colleen that I forgot all about the store. The staff must be going out of their minds wondering what happened to us. And my assistant is probably wondering where I am.” She drew a deep breath and wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “You’re right. We should check it out. It’s probably locked up, but I have my keys with me, so we can get in.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Depends on whether the CSI team has finished gathering evidence. It could still be cordoned off with crime-scene tape.”

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” Kate closed her eyes. “Oh, dear. What has happened to Bobby?”

“If the police haven’t found his next of kin or no one has come forward to claim the body, he’ll be at the morgue.”

“Oh, that’s awful,” Kate moaned. “Poor Bobby. Colleen and I are the closest thing to family that he has. I should be planning his funeral.”

“There’ll be time for a funeral later, after we’ve straightened things out and all the smoke and dust has settled.

“Right now, it’s first things first. And our next stop is Mahaffey’s Interiors.”

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