# An Unexpected Clue

Elle James

## An Unexpected Clue. Elle James


www.millsandboon.co.uk

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## Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Copyright

## About the Author

The 2004 Golden Heart winner for Best Paranormal Romance, ELLE JAMES started writing when her sister issued a Y2K challenge to write a romance novel. She has managed a full-time job, raised three wonderful children and she and her husband even tried their hands at ranching exotic birds (ostriches, emus and rheas) in the Texas Hill Country. Ask her and she’ll tell you what it’s like to go toe-to-toe with an angry three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bird!

After leaving her successful career in information technology management, Elle is now pursuing her writing full-time. She loves building exciting stories about heroes, heroines, romance and passion. Elle loves to hear from fans.

You can contact her at ellejames@earthlink.net or visit her website at www.ellejames.com.

This book is dedicated to all the authors who

contributed to the success of this continuity. As always,

it’s a pleasure to work with you all. A special thanks

to Allison Lyons for her gentle guidance during

the editing process.

## Chapter One

He lay against the cool concrete floor, facedown, careful to take slow shallow breaths. The more dead he looked, the more likely the guard would venture in to check on him.

Hidden beneath his body, his fingers curled around the smooth metal of the broken bedpost he’d wrested from the corner of the twin-size utility cot.

Ben Parrish knew what they had planned for him, and he had a good idea what they’d do to Ava if he didn’t get to her first. For weeks they’d drugged him through the food he ate. For the past two days he’d eaten very little, flushing what he didn’t eat down the toilet in the corner of his cell.

He’d planned his escape carefully. Now with his head clearer than it had been in the weeks of his captivity, he’d learned of Nicky Wayne’s plan to dispose of him and go after Ava.

Ben’s chest tightened. She’d be in her eighth month of pregnancy, in no condition to run from Nick’s goons. Bad guys who wouldn’t hesitate to kill a pregnant woman over something as seemingly inconsequential as a necklace.

The necklace was the key. His friend Julie Grainger had given him a medal postmortem, sent in the mail before she died. He’d hung it on a chain and given it to his wife, Ava. Embossed on the medal was the image of St. Joan of Arc, the patron saint of imprisonment. For the past weeks, Ben had laughed at the irony. Perhaps Julie’s gift had jinxed him, landing him in this hellhole of Nicky’s making. That very medal endangered Ava and their unborn child. He wished he’d never seen the damned thing. All it had brought him was grief.

Nicky Wayne had beaten, tortured and drugged him in his effort to locate the millions Vincent Del Gardo had squirreled away in a secret bank account.

In his assignment as an undercover FBI agent, Ben had worked closely with Del Gardo, getting to know him, infiltrating the Del Gardo crime family. Still, he hadn’t even known about the money. No amount of beatings by Wayne or his thugs could coerce the location out of him. All this time the account numbers had been inscribed on the backs of three medallions Julie had sent to her friends from her FBI academy days, Ben, Tom Ryan and Dylan Acevedo.

Now that Nicky knew they were the keys to the millions Del Gardo had stashed, he wanted those medals and to get them, he’d do anything, including kill Ava.

Sounds outside his cell alerted him to the approach of his executioners.

Under no circumstances could he fail. If he did, Ava and their unborn child might be the Wayne organization’s next victims.

A key scraped in the lock and the door swung open.

“What the—” The man all the other guards called Hammer stepped through the door first, tapping a hand-carved club in his palm.

Another man, Hispanic, as equally bulky as Hammer and intimidating like a nightclub bouncer followed Hammer inside. Always wearing a suit and tie, he could have fit into any Mexican Mafia crowd, especially with the scar extending from the right side of his top lip, across his cheekbone to his right ear, which was missing a significant portion of the lobe. “Think he did us a favor and croaked?”

“I don’t know, Manny, why don’t you ask him.” Hammer didn’t wait for Manny, but nudged Ben’s thigh with his foot.

Careful not to show any signs of life, Ben lay still, allowing his eyelids to open only enough to ascertain the positions of the two men.

“Looks like he passed out,” Hammer brilliantly deduced.

“I hope he’s not dead.” Manny pulled a shiny Sig Sauer nine millimeter pistol from his shoulder holster. “Takes all the fun out of killing him.”

“Guess the boss wouldn’t care how he expires, so long as he’s dead. Nicky said he was done with him.”

“I’m gonna miss the guy. Torture ain’t never been so much fun.” Manny snickered.

“Come on, Mr. Wayne wanted this room cleaned out by the end of the day.” Hammer tapped the club in his hand. “You want to do the job or me?”

“I’ll do it.” Manny squatted next to Ben and pressed the gun to Ben’s temple. “Bye, bye Benny Boy.”

Ben flipped over, grabbed Manny’s hand and jerked it up to Hammer.

The gun went off, the sound deafening in the closet-sized room.

At such close range, the bullet slammed into Hammer with the force of a semitruck, knocking him against the wall. His eyes widened in surprise as he dropped the club and slid down the white walls, leaving a smear of bright red blood.

Before Manny could react, Ben leaped to his feet, still gripping the hand holding the gun. Though weak from hunger, he channeled all his hatred and desperation into swinging the broken metal post down on Manny’s arm.

The arm snapped, Manny screamed and the Sig Sauer dropped to the floor. Before Manny could react, Ben jerked his arm, sending the bouncer crashing into the concrete brick walls of his prison.

Instead of dropping unconscious to the floor, Manny swung around and roared like a raging bull. He dropped his undamaged shoulder into a football lineman stance and charged at Ben.

Ben waited until the last possible moment, then smashed Manny across the nose with the post.

Blood spurted, blinding Manny. He stumbled and fell, hitting his head for the second time against the wall and finally slid to the floor.

Now.

Ben spun for the door. Hammer would most likely be dead, but Manny might recover enough to sound the alarm. Ben could stay and finish the guy off, but he didn’t know how long it would take for others to come looking for the two. He leaped over Manny, grabbed the Sig Sauer and dove for the open doorway. With only seconds to spare, he had to find his way out of his prison before Nicky Wayne called down his entire arsenal of thugs to finish the job Hammer and Manny failed to complete.

Trouble was, Ben had no idea where he was. From eavesdropping on the guards he’d figured he was in one of Wayne’s Las Vegas casinos. But the way casinos were built, he could be lost in the maze longer than he had to get clear.

Ben spotted a security camera in the corner of the hallway. If Wayne’s security was worth anything, a contingent of armed goons would be on their way by now.

He had to make it out of the basement. Once he reached the casino level, he could lose himself in the crowd. Ben snorted and almost smiled at the thought. The torn jeans he’d been captured in weeks ago hung on him, a testament to the amount of weight he’d lost in captivity. After his shoulder wound healed, he’d exercised several times a day to keep up his strength. Mixing in with the crowd in the jeans and a faded, ripped black T-shirt, barefoot, he’d draw attention like a homeless man trying to panhandle in a public place. Yeah, he wouldn’t last long.

First things first.

Get the hell out of the fortress-like basement.

A red-lettered exit sign shone like a beacon at the end of the hallway. Ben passed the service elevator and ran for the door. Written in bold letters across the door were the words Opening This Door Will Set Off Alarms. Use Only in Case of Fire.

Ben paused. If he used the elevator, security would surely see him and radio the armed guards hovering near the elevators. They’d wait for him to step out, and either kill him on the spot or return him to his cell and dispose of him there. If he took the stairs, he might make it to the next floor before they came after him.

With a deep breath, he shoved the door open.

Alarms blared, ringing in his ears as he took the stairs two at a time to the next level. A window in the door displayed a parking garage. When he pushed the door, it opened three inches and stopped. A chain had been strung across the exit from the outside.

Abandoning the chained door, he raced up the stairs to the next level. Another garage level, another chain across the door. Desperation spurred him up yet another level.

A door slammed open two floors below and footsteps echoed in the stairwell.

After a quick glance through the small square window into an empty hallway, Ben pushed hard on the door, half expecting it to be locked as well. Instead of meeting resistance, he fell through.

He ran down the deserted hallway, passing another corridor to the right and skidding to a halt at a T-junction.

Male voices carried around to him. “He just came out of the south stairwell to this floor. Come on.” Running footsteps pounded toward Ben.

Backtracking, he turned and raced back to another hallway and turned left. As he passed the corner, he reached up and slammed the metal post he still carried into the camera perched near the ceiling. Plastic shattered and the little red light on top blinked out.

Sounds of music, voices and laughter filled his ears. The marking on one of the doors read Backstage.

Ben tested the door handle. Locked.

The next door was marked Stage Closet and it opened. Great. He’d be cornered in a tiny closet, destined to be captured amid brooms, mops and disinfectant cleaners.

The pounding footsteps drove him through the door into a larger closet than he’d imagined, filled with the usual supplies. As he worked his way through the obstacle course of supplies, the closet opened into a larger room filled with stage props, curtains, stepladders, cans of paint and tools. At the opposite end, light filtered around the edges of yet another door.

Ben raced for the door and had his hand on the knob when the original door he’d entered through jerked open.

With no idea what was on the other side of the door, Ben opened it and slipped through, hoping it took the security guards a few minutes to find their way across.

The door led to another hallway, this one filled with women in tight, skimpy costumes, hurrying away from him.

“Do you mind? We’re on in two.” A heavily made-up woman in a bright blue bustier, sporting a feathery blue hat and equally feathery tail, squeezed by him and ran after others dressed in a similar fashion.

The muffled sound of applause and music made Ben follow. A door stood open halfway down the hallway. Inside were racks and racks of costumes. From more of the skimpy corsets to evening gowns and men’s suits.

Ben hid the bloody bedpost behind a box of wigs and rifled through the costumes until he found a conservative black tuxedo in roughly his size. Not until he slipped it on did he realize it was a stripper tux, complete with Velcro seams. Too late to change his mind now.

The security guards had made their way through the prop closet into the hallway and were asking performers if they’d seen a man running through.

Ben jerked his clothes off and slipped into a snowy white shirt and the tuxedo jacket, hoping the women who’d seen him remained occupied on stage until he could figure a way out.

The guards opened doors and slammed them shut in their search down the hallway.

They’d be at the costumes room next.

After grabbing shoes off a shelf and a top hat, Ben ran for the door.

“Move, jerk!” Another wave of performers filled the hall, this time a mix of women in flowing ballroom dresses, interspersed with men in, wouldn’t you know it, black tuxedoes.

Guards bumped their way through the throng of performers hurrying toward the stage.

Ben whipped through buttoning his shirt and jacket and slapped the top hat on his head. When the rush of tuxedoed men crowded past the costume room, he slipped through the door and let the wave of dancers pull him along. As long as the guards didn’t see his overgrown, shaggy beard, he might get by.

Once the performers arrived at the stage, they adjusted neckties and hems, awaiting their cue and the exit of the feathered dancing girls.

The guards wove through the performers, scanning the crowd for any sign of the boss’s escaped prisoner.

With his face averted and his senses on alert, Ben bunched his muscles, ready to take on anyone who stood in the way of him and freedom.

“Are they looking for you?” A woman carrying a powder puff stepped in front of him just as a guard neared.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grunted, his voice hoarse from lack of use.

She lifted the puff filled with powder and dabbed it on his face at the exact time the guard pushed past him.

“You can get out the side door behind the lighting catwalk, backstage. It leads to another hallway. Take a left and you’ll find the loading docks and to the right of that a small employee parking lot.” She raised the puff again, ready to douse him with another layer of powder.

Ben grabbed her hand and stared into tired blue eyes. “Who are you?”

“Kitty.”

Applause signaled the end of the feathered dancers’ performance. Barely-clad women raced off the stage and the music changed tempo. The emcee, dressed in a navy blue tuxedo, announced the next act with a flourishing wave of his hand.

Ben released the woman’s wrist and smiled down at her. “Thanks, Kitty.”

Her blue eyes sparkled, a blush filling her wan cheeks. “You better go now.”

While the ballroom dancers whirled out onto the stage, Ben ducked behind the catwalk and out the backstage door.

Just as the makeup artist said, he turned left and emerged into a large loading dock area, the huge overhead doors closed for the night. He found an exit door that lead to a set of metal stairs descending into a small parking lot.

Another door farther along the back of the building opened as Ben’s feet hit the pavement. Two men in black suits, carrying handguns, stepped out. Ben ducked behind a car and, hunching low, ran the length of the row of cars to the end.

One of the men shouted. A popping sound was immediately followed by the glass in the passenger window next to him exploding, showering him with tiny shards.

His heart hammering in his chest, Ben evaluated his options in two seconds. Stay where he was and face the two guards who could multiply into many more, or take his chances and run across a thirty foot expanse of open pavement to a low brick wall separating the casino he’d just escaped from the one next door.

Ben launched himself out into the parking lot, zigzagging left, then right across the open space, then threw himself over the top of the brick wall. The distance to the ground was much farther on the other side. He landed on his side, bumping his sore shoulder. Pain shot through his arm and back, but he picked himself up and ran for the back of the neighboring casino.

What sounded like a herd of security guards pounded across the pavement in the parking lot behind him.

He’d be a sitting duck if he hung around outside too long.

A group of casino employees exited the back of the casino, speaking in Spanish, laughing and joking. One of them stopped at the door and fumbled in his back pocket. He frowned and waved to his buddies, saying he’d dropped his keys in the hall.

The men laughed and stopped, waiting for their compadre.

After a quick glance over his shoulder to gauge his pursuers’ progress, Ben made his face go slack and staggered over to the casino employees, feigning drunkenness. “Is this the way to get in?”

“Sorry, mister, you have to use the front entrance.” One man, with a heavy Hispanic accent stepped in front of him.

Ben lurched forward, bumping into the man. “Don’t know if I can make it that far.”

About the time their buddy with the missing keys opened the door, Wayne’s security team from the next casino cleared the wall, dropping to the pavement.

Ben dove for the man standing in the doorway. The unsuspecting man’s eyes widened, his keys dangling from his fingertips.

When Ben barreled into him, both men toppled inside the casino at the exact same time as a bullet pinged against the metal doorframe.

The man cursed and grunted as he hit the ground on his back.

“Sorry, pal.” Ben jumped to his feet and ran deeper into the building, weaving his way through the maze of corridors, until he found an open office door.

He pushed through and closed the door locking it from the inside. His escape meant nothing if he didn’t at least warn Ava. A single phone call would do for a start until he could find a way to get to her and provide the protection she’d need. Right now he needed a phone to call Ava in Kenner City, Colorado.

Breathing hard, Ben sat behind the desk and punched the buttons on the phone until he got an outside line. First he dialed home.

“Answer, Ava, answer!” After the fifth ring, an answering machine message in a male impersonal tone asked him to leave his phone number and a brief message. He punched the off button and dialed the Kenner County Crime Unit. Maybe she was working late.

He tried to picture her bending over a microscope. He imagined her belly swelled but beautiful, just like her. A surge of longing hit him full force. Knowing that Ava and his unborn child were alive and waiting for him had been the only thing to keep him going during his captivity.

“Kenner County Crime Unit,” the dispatcher answered.

“Get me Ava Parrish.”

“I’m sorry, she’s not in.”

Damn! He hung up and dialed the number for his supervisor, Jerry Ortiz, at the Durango office of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. The operator picked up.

Before she could say two words, Ben demanded, “Get me Jerry Ortiz, and hurry.”

“But sir—”

“It’s an emergency. Just tell him Ben Parrish is calling. Now do it!”

The operator hesitated. “One moment please.” The line clicked.

After several moments of silence, Ben tapped his foot. Had he been cut off? Was the department slipping in his absence? Here he was in a life-and-death situation and he couldn’t get in touch with anyone.

The line clicked again. “Ben, this is Tom Ryan. Are you all right, buddy? Where are you? Better yet, where the hell have you been for the past two months?”

“Tom? Why the hell are you answering Ortiz’s line? Never mind, I don’t have time to go into detail. I need to know where Ava is.”

“Look, Ben things aren’t good for you here. Since your disappearance, some have it in their heads that you’ve gone bad, jumping from Del Gardo’s organization to join Nicky Wayne’s team of thugs and that you were somehow involved in Julie’s and Del Gardo’s murders.”

“Damn it!” Rage shot through his veins. Just when he thought captivity was the worst place he could be, he’d escaped to find out his own team thought he’d joined the other side. Ben inhaled and let out a long, steadying stream of air before he replied in a tight voice. “You know I had nothing to do with Julie’s or Del Gardo’s murders, Tom. And isn’t it enough to tell you that I’ve been on assignment?”

“I know you cared about Julie as much as Dylan and I did. You couldn’t have had anything to do with it. And for a while there, I’d guessed you were on some kind of mission. I just didn’t know what. But when you disappeared, rumors had it you ran because you’re guilty and involved in the Wayne organization up to your eyeballs. You have to come in and straighten everyone out.” Tom delivered his words in a calm, deliberate tone, one he’d used to talk suicidal maniacs off ledges.

“Including you? I thought we were friends. More than friends.”

“The evidence is pretty damning.”

“What evidence?”

“We found the note and pictures you received from Julie. You know,” Tom continued, “the one where she said ‘I know who you really are.’ That plus the pictures of you with Nicky Wayne has everyone in Kenner City convinced you’re one of the bad guys. You need to turn yourself in and straighten out this mess.”

After two months, Ben had almost forgotten the package’s other contents besides the medal. Now he recalled the note and pictures Julie had sent, her abbreviated message flashing through his memory. Ben stifled a groan. He could understand how easily her words could have been misinterpreted.

But Ben wasn’t going to turn himself in, not with so much at stake. “To hell with everyone else. I need to find Ava. Where is she?” So the FBI even thought he was crooked. That hurt. A lot. He guessed he’d been a little too successful at his undercover role. But he had bigger dragons to slay than a mucked up reputation.

“Look, buddy, you need to come back to Kenner City and talk to the powers that be. It’s the only way they’ll stop painting you as an insider in a crime ring. We’re pretty sure Boyd Perkins killed Julie, but there are those who think you might have orchestrated Julie’s death and the hit on Del Gardo.”

“Why do you only think it? Why not pull Perkins in for questioning?”

“Boyd Perkins died in a standoff before we could get a confession and you haven’t been around to confirm or deny anything.”

Ben nodded even though Tom couldn’t see him. At least one nasty character wouldn’t be plaguing the earth anymore. “I’m not coming in until I find Ava. Either you tell me where she is or I’ll hang up and find her myself.”

“All right, keep your shirt on.” Tom sighed into his ear. “Ava took a leave of absence and left town.”

Ben’s fingers tightened on the phone until he thought for sure the plastic would crack under the pressure. “Where’d she go?”

“After you disappeared, your house became a crime scene, with you a prime suspect. The stress eventually got to Ava and made her go into premature labor. She had to take off or risk delivering too soon. She’s at her sister Emily’s house in Vegas.”

Ben closed his eyes and fought a wave of hunger, fear and relief that threatened to make him nauseous. Ava was in Vegas. Close to him but even closer to Nicky Wayne.

“Ben? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes, I need money, identification and a vehicle I can count on.”

“You know I can’t give you those things without becoming an accomplice.”

“If not for me, then do it for Ava and my child. I won’t let Nicky get his filthy hands on her.” Not after all the pain and agony he’d inflicted on Ben.

A long pause stretched the silence between them, then Tom sighed. “I’ll have someone out there within two hours. How will I be able to contact you?”

Voices echoed in the hall outside the locked office door. Someone tested the handle.

Ben ducked low in case they broke the door down or used a key. “You still have the same cell number?” he whispered into the phone.

“Yes.”

“I’ll contact you.”

“I really wish you’d turn yourself in, man.”

“I can’t. Ava’s in danger. I’ll fill you in when I’m sure she’s all right.”

“If this is the way you want to play it, I’ll get the money and the car to you within the next few hours.”

Ben didn’t risk a response. Instead, he set the phone back in its cradle and waited for Wayne’s people to break down the door or move on. He had to find a way to Emily’s house and get there before Nicky Wayne found Ava.

## Chapter Two

Ava paced the length of her sister Emily’s living room, staring out at the tops of the Las Vegas high-rise casinos in the distance. Neon lights lit the night sky like Christmas on steroids, yet the bright colors and blare of traffic did nothing to lift Ava’s spirits.

Emily perched on the arm of her bomber-jacket-brown leather couch, a crease marring her elegant brow. “I wish you’d sit and take a load off your feet. You’re making me tired just watching you.”

With a wobbling about-face, Ava made another pass across the room. “I shouldn’t have taken time off. I’m not used to inactivity.”

“Maybe not, but you’d better rest while you can. After that baby comes, you won’t get a decent night’s sleep.”

Ava ran a hand over her swollen belly, trying to imagine holding the baby in her arms at last. With another month stretching before her like a slow-motion film, she couldn’t stand the thought of spending it twiddling her thumbs or crocheting baby booties. Sorry kid, I’m not that maternal. “I should have stayed in Kenner City.”

“Coulda, shoulda, woulda, good grief, sis. You couldn’t stay in your house and you know it.” Emily was the older sister, and she had a blunt way of telling it like it was, no holding back, no skirting the issue. “If Ben hadn’t run off like the criminal he is, you wouldn’t be here moaning about nothing to do. You’d be painting the baby room and picking out infant furniture together. That is, assuming Ben isn’t guilty like they say he is.”

“Much as I’m sure you’d like him to be guilty and out of my life, Ben didn’t kill Julie Grainger.” She was absolutely certain of that. What she wasn’t so certain of was his affiliation with the Wayne organization and the hit on Vincent Del Gardo. Hadn’t he reported to Jerry Ortiz all this time? And Jerry had been a dirty agent. Did that make Ben a dirty agent? Guilt by association? Jerry had died trying his best to kill Ava for the medal she had in her possession. “Ben, Tom, Julie and Dylan were close friends. He wouldn’t have killed her.”

“Maybe so, but what do you really know about Ben? He could be up to his neck in crime with Nicky Wayne. There’s the note from Julie and the pictures of him with the Wayne organization. The evidence is pretty strong against him.” Emily leaned forward. “He’s lied to you in so many ways, I don’t see how you can defend him now.”

Ava didn’t have a comeback. Ben had lied and hidden things from her from the get-go. And she’d chosen to believe in him anyway. Call it love, call it blind faith. Call it stupidity. Now she was eight months pregnant, Ben was missing, possibly dead and Ava faced a life of raising their baby alone. Her baby would never know her father.

Damn you, Ben! Tears welled in her eyes as she pictured her daughter at five or six years old asking about her father. What would she tell her? Your father was an FBI agent who defected to one of the most notorious crime organizations of the century. Live with that, why don’t you?

“No.” Ava clenched her fist, refusing to believe what others were so quick to grasp on to. “Ben didn’t kill Julie, nor did he have her killed by Boyd Perkins. And I just can’t believe he’s guilty of going bad and working for Nicky Wayne like Ortiz did.” He just couldn’t be a member of the Wayne organization. So what if Julie’s cryptic note and pictures alluded to a more nefarious life. The note could have meant something else entirely.

All of the evidence so far was supposition and conjecture. As a member of the Kenner County Crime Unit, Ava wouldn’t convict him on circumstantial evidence that could be explained away with one interview with the suspect. Even when the evidence had cut her to the core.

Ben hadn’t told her about his activities. Seeing pictures of him with the Wayne organization had been devastating. It was as though he had led an entirely different life than the one he’d had with her. Seeing her husband in those pictures reminded her that she didn’t really know him. The strain of that realization more than his potential part in Del Gardo’s and Julie’s deaths had caused her to go into early labor.

Other than lying to her, the worst crime Ben had committed against Ava was leaving her and their baby. A tear breached the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t let that son of a gun make me mad.” Emily hurried across the floor and wrapped Ava in a hug, smoothing her long red hair down her back. “He’ll come home, you wait. He’ll come home and explain everything to you.”

Ava let her sister hold her, taking comfort in the arms around her. Despite her doubts about Ben and his role in the organized crime world, she missed him lying beside her in their bed. She missed waking up next to him in the morning. She missed sharing the joyous moments of carrying his child, and she hated that he was missing all the changes, as well.

More tears threatened to fall, but Ava gritted her teeth and willed them to dry. She swallowed several times before she could speak. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry about us.”

“But I am worried. It’s not like you to be so down.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard having your home searched over and over for any scrap of evidence leading to the whereabouts of a husband accused of being in a crime organization and responsible for a murder.” She pushed away from her sister and shoved a hand through her hair. “Everyone at work has been super nice about it all. They talk about the baby to my face, although I know they’re talking about the case behind my back.” Another wave of emotion blocked Ava’s throat, forcing more tears from her eyes.

Emily reached out to brush the moisture from Ava’s cheek, smiling at her with that gentle, it’ll-be-all-right look she’d given her as a child with a skinned knee. “But they do talk behind your back and that’s what bothers you?”

Ava raised a hand. “No, they’re just trying not to stress me. They care what happens to me and my baby. They’re my friends and it’s their job to find the truth.” She turned back to the windows and stared out at the brightness lighting the sky above the Strip. “I just wish I knew the truth,” she whispered, swiping at another errant tear. She forced a strained smile to the corners of her mouth and squared her shoulders. “I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“Shouldn’t let it bother you? How could it not? The bastard—man—is the father of your child.” Emily hugged her from behind.

“Yeah.” Ava stepped away from Emily and dried the tears from her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m not normally this weepy.” She couldn’t give in to raging hormones. Her baby needed a mother who was strong and determined to see her through life without a father. “I guess I’m just tired from my walk.”

“You shouldn’t have gone so far. Two miles is a bit much when you’re as far along as you are.”

“And as big as I am, is what you meant to say, isn’t it?” Ava grinned. “Go ahead, your turn to tease me. I did enough when you were pregnant with your two.”

Emily’s mouth twisted. “It’s funny how they drive you nuts and you look forward to having a spare minute without them, but then you miss them so much you can hardly stand it when they’re gone.”

“When is Drew bringing the boys back from his mother’s?” Ava asked. Drew was Emily’s ex-husband.

“Day after tomorrow.” Emily gathered her keys and purse. “I’d have taken them myself if Theresa hadn’t quit the day before we were supposed to leave.”

“They couldn’t find another blackjack dealer to fill in?”

“I wish. I miss my boys when they’re gone.” Emily sighed. “I’ll be home by two-thirty. I’ll have my cell phone on vibrate. If you need me, leave a message. I’ll check it every fifteen minutes.”

“Don’t worry. It isn’t as if the baby’s due yet.”

“You never know. Babies have a way of coming when you least expect, and you were having premature contractions just a week ago.”

“I haven’t had one since I’ve been here.”

“Don’t take any chances, sweetie.” Emily kissed her on the cheek and opened the front door. “And don’t open the door for anyone but me.”

“I’ll be fine.” Ava shooed her outside and held the door. “You’re such a worrywart.”

“I’m just a concerned sister. Now go lie down.”

“Yes, Mother.” Ava smiled and waved as Emily drove off. Then she turned and trudged back into the house, her body tired, her mind churning up old memories of her and Ben, a constant reminder of what she’d lost.

Ever since he’d disappeared, Ava had called herself every kind of fool. She’d fallen into the same trap as her mother.

Falling in love with a bad boy was always a mistake. They never stuck around for the duration. Her own father had been a sexy devil with dark hair and green eyes. Emily took after their father. Ava resembled their red-haired mother, but she got their father’s green eyes instead of their mother’s pale blue.

Her mother had been lured into believing her father had mended his gambling ways and finally settled down to raise their children. He’d promised to love, honor and cherish her until death. In her father’s case, until he could no longer fight the addiction. Gambling.

When he’d disappeared, he’d left her mother heartbroken and destitute with two small daughters to raise by herself.

She’d gone to work at a casino using skills her husband had taught her and working her way up to card dealer in less than two years. The hours were terrible, but the money put food on their table. She traded babysitting with another mother working the day shift. They’d struggled. And they wouldn’t have had to if their father had lived up to his promises.

Ava swore she’d never marry anyone remotely connected to gambling. She’d never marry a liar or a man who didn’t honor his promises. Ha! Eating your own words didn’t taste so great. She’d committed sins against every one of her promises to herself.

Her feet hurt and the small of her back ached, testimony to walking too long that day. She’d have to relax or risk going into labor early. The doctor had warned her about overdoing it during her last month. The baby needed the last few weeks of pregnancy to fine-tune its developing organs.

Ava switched off the lights, intent on going to bed. Instead, she eased her body into the lounge chair. She should put on her nightgown and climb into the four-poster in the guest bedroom, but she wouldn’t be any more comfortable lying down as reclining. The baby already weighed heavily on her internal organs. She couldn’t imagine getting any bigger.

As she flipped through the channels, she came across an oldie and would have skipped right past it, but she hesitated when An Affair to Remember blinked onto the screen. Before long, she was bawling her eyes out. With tears streaming down her face, she finally shut off the television and lay staring up at the ceiling until her eyes burned and she blinked. Once, twice…Give it up, girl. She closed her eyes.

A little girl in a flowing white nightgown ran through the dirty backstreets of Vegas crying out for her daddy. Ava ran after her, her heart breaking for the child. Soon she couldn’t distinguish between herself and the child and she was crying out but not for her daddy.

Ben! She ran toward a tall, dark-eyed man with dirty brown hair and a stubbled beard that darkened his face. The more she ran, the farther away he drifted. Breathing so hard her sides hurt, she staggered to a halt, holding her hand out to the man who was now nothing more than a shadowy image.

How long she slept she had no idea. A minute, an hour, it didn’t matter. The noise that woke her did matter, however.

She struggled to consciousness, sure she’d heard a door open somewhere or the sound of metal clattering. A glance at the clock reflected nine. Hell, she hadn’t been asleep for more than thirty minutes. Had Emily forgotten something?

Ava rocked forward in the chair and stood. Yet another reason to sleep in a lounge chair, easy in and semi-easy out.

She walked to the front door and pressed her eye to the peephole. The front porch light shone down on the lighted porch, darkness lay beyond the square of concrete.

“See? No Emily, no salesman, no bogeyman and no Ben.” When she said his name out loud, she closed her eyes, her desperation morphing to anger as an image of him appeared in her thoughts. She held out a hand to him, but he didn’t take it. Why? Why did you leave us? One day your daughter will be out there alone, crying for her daddy. Sadly, I’ll be all alone, too.

The image of Ben stood in stoic silence.

Don’t you have anything to say for yourself? You’ve ruined our lives, do you hear me?

His image faded.

Ava’s anger faded, replaced by sorrow. She reached out to keep him from disappearing, to keep him by her side, but her hand touched the cool wood panels of the front door. All her life she’d dodged love, afraid to commit for fear of being deserted. She couldn’t become her mother, wouldn’t let her child mourn the lack of a father. She wouldn’t let him disappear again, damn it!

She opened her eyes to the solid wooden door standing between her and an unknown future. She’d make it on her own, if she had to. And she’d love her child enough for two parents.

When she turned back to the living room, the man of her dreams and nightmares stood in front of her, dressed in a crumpled tuxedo, the shirt unbuttoned at the neck, the tie gone, a ragged beard covering his chin and more handsome than any man had a right to be.

Ava’s vision blurred at the edges. “Ben?”

“Ava.” The deep timbre of his voice filled her senses, dispelling her dream state in that one word.

Gray turned to black as Ava’s knees buckled and she sank to the floor.

HE HADN’T MEANT to scare her, but he couldn’t come through the front door without possibly alerting the neighbors. When he’d climbed over the privacy fence, he’d tripped over the trash cans on the other side, making enough noise to disturb someone’s dog. Between barking and trash cans rattling, he thought for sure Ava and Emily would be calling the police. He’d hurried to the Florida room on the back deck where he found the screen door unlocked and the sliding door into the house equally unsecured.

Had Nicky Wayne already been here?

Was Ben too late? Panic had seized him and he charged into the house. That’s when he’d seen her standing by the front door, her back to him, her long auburn hair hanging down over her shoulders in loose waves. To be this close after so long, he stopped and stared, his heart lodged in his throat.

Then she’d turned, her face losing all color, her beautiful green eyes widening in shock.

When her eyes rolled backward, Ben lunged for her, catching her before she hit the floor.

He struggled to steady her, his body weak from lack of nourishment and the long jog across town. But he cushioned her fall with his own body. For the second time that night, his shoulder took the brunt of the impact, pain shooting through him in waves.

He didn’t care. Ava was there in his arms and she’d grown even more beautiful since the last time he’d seen her. The color returned to her pale cheeks, infusing the porcelain whiteness with the faint blush of a rose.

“Ben?” Her auburn lashes fluttered upward and emerald eyes stared up into his. “Am I still dreaming?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s really me.” His chest filled with such an aching sweetness, he thought he would explode. All those weeks in captivity, he’d dreamed of her, of when they’d met, when they’d first made love, and when he’d finally hold her in his arms again. She was the reason he’d survived.

Her hand lifted to her hair, pushing it out of her eyes. “Ben? How…what…where…you’ve been gone so long, I thought I’d imagined you.” She stared around as if the rest of the room had finally come into focus. “Why are we sitting on the floor?”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “It’s where we landed.”

She stared at their tangle of legs. “Did I—?”

Ben’s chest tightened and he turned her to face him, sitting squarely in his lap. “Yes, you dropped like a rock.”

Her dark, coppery brows knitted and she struggled to stand. “I haven’t done that since…”

“Since you were in your first trimester?” He held her steady until she managed to get to her feet and then he stood up behind her. He wanted to laugh out loud at the joy of being with her, but knew that she wouldn’t be as amused, probably thinking she looked huge.

In truth, she hadn’t changed much, other than the roundness of her belly. If anything, her pregnancy made her even more beautiful.

All Ben wanted was to hold her in his arms and make up for all the weeks they’d been apart.

When she turned to face him, he knew folding her into his embrace wasn’t an immediate possibility.

Her green eyes darkened and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, resting them on her protruding baby bump. “Where have you been?”

He could go into a long discussion about what had happened to him in the past weeks, but he didn’t have clearance to discuss his mission until he talked to his supervisor, Jerry Ortiz.

The important thing was to get Ava to safety. Nicky Wayne had connections and it wouldn’t be long before he discovered her whereabouts, if he hadn’t already. “I’ll answer all your questions later. Right now, we have to get out of here.” He hooked her arm with his hand.

Ava jerked free of his hold, her feet planted firmly in her sister’s Berber carpet. “I’m not going anywhere until I know what the hell happened to you and why you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

The sound of a car door slamming outside made his pulse jump. Ben raced to the front windows and inched the wooden blinds away from the frame. A woman walked up the drive of the neighboring house and entered.

“Expecting someone?” Ava stood behind him, her frown deeper than before.

“Yes. That’s why we need to leave here immediately.” He grasped her shoulders and stared down into her eyes. “You’re in danger.”

Her gaze went to where his hands gripped her. “As I see it, the only person I’m in danger of is you.” She looked up at him, her face stony cold. “Let go of me.”

Hurt tugged at his chest, making it hard to breathe. Ben didn’t have time to explain what had happened. He just needed to get her the hell out of there. “Look, we don’t have much time. They’ll be here any moment. Get your purse and keys. We have to go, now.”

Her brows rose on her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere with you until you tell me what’s going on and where you’ve been.”

“I was held captive by Nicky Wayne. I escaped. Now he’s after you and me. The end. Can we go now?” He reached for her arm again, anxiety mounting. Any minute Nicky’s thugs could storm through the door and…

She stepped back, that stubborn look he’d always found amusing pinching her lips together into a tight line. “And you’re just now getting loose? I’m supposed to believe you?” She snorted. “Everyone else must be right. You have gone to work for the Wayne organization. I should have known it.”

“Ava. I wouldn’t lie to you about this. The stakes are too high.” He couldn’t help glancing at her belly and she noticed his glance, her hand coming up to rest on the swell. “Wayne was drugging me. I was in too much of a fog to know until I got sick and couldn’t hold down the food he’d drugged me with.”

“What about Julie? Were you responsible for her murder?”

“Are you crazy? I loved Julie like a sister. I would never have hurt her.”

The hard line of her jaw softened briefly before it hardened again. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” She turned away from him and walked into the kitchen.

“Do what?” He followed, his ears straining for any sound out of the ordinary. Once in the kitchen, he reached for a loaf of bread and fumbled with the tie, his hunger threatening to overwhelm his other survival skills.

Ava grabbed keys from the counter and her purse. “I can’t fall back into your plans that easily. I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

Ben set the loaf of bread aside, all thoughts of food taking second place to what Ava said. “You have to trust me on this one, Ava. Your life and the life of our child depend on it.”

“My child, Ben. I’m not the one who disappeared. I’m not the one wanted for murder. I’m the one carrying this baby. Alone. My baby. I’m the one who will be raising it alone if you decide to disappear again.” She looped her bag over her shoulder. “I can’t do it. I can’t be your yo-yo, springing back every time you decide to take off.”

Anger and frustration swelled in Ben. “I didn’t take off. I was captured. I’m not running out on you or the child. I’m here to help keep you two alive. Nicky Wayne is coming for you.”

“Why? Why would Nicky Wayne want me? I’ve done nothing to threaten him.”

“You have something he wants.”

“What?” Ava’s eyes widened, both hands going to her protruding belly, her head swaying side to side. “Not my baby.”

Ben frowned. He hadn’t wanted to scare her, but, damn it, she had to cooperate. “No, he doesn’t want your baby. He wants that necklace I gave you with the medal of St. Joan of Arc on it.”

“Well, he can’t have it.”

“Why? What’s happened to the medal?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have it.”

“What?” He grabbed her shoulders. “Where is it?”

She looked away, her gaze darting to the corner of the room. “I don’t remember.”

She did, but she wasn’t telling him.

“Look at me, Ava.” He held her, his fingers digging into her arms, the soft scent of spring flowers twisting around his starved senses, making him dizzy. Forcing himself to focus on the seriousness of the situation, Ben stared into Ava’s eyes, willing her to understand. “This is not the secret to keep, Ava.”

“For the second time, let go of me.” Her jaw tightened and she matched him stare for stare until he dropped his hold. Immediately, she stepped out of reach, pulling her purse in front of her like a shield. “I’m not a puppet you can string along for your own purposes, to pick up when you feel like it and drop when you’re bored.”

God, he was losing her. Ben’s knees shook. What did he expect? After so many weeks gone and his previous connection to Del Gardo’s organization, did he think she’d trust him, fall into his arms and be the loving wife he’d left?

Hell, yes! He’d been through enough under Wayne’s treatment, he certainly didn’t want more abuse by his own wife. Anger made his muscles stiffen. “You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell.” She stomped toward the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out.” She blew through the door, practically running in her own pregnant waddle.

“Where are Emily and the boys?” Ben asked.

“Emily’s at work. The boys are at their grandparents.” Ava didn’t slow until she reached the car.

“Don’t you care that they could be in danger as well?”

“I would if I believed you.”

If he wasn’t so intent on saving her sorry butt, he’d laugh at the comical picture she made. Pregnant and angry, she was still the most beautiful, sexy, frustrating woman he’d ever met. Ben had his job cut out for him. He ran after her, and tried to grab the keys from her fingers. “You’re not driving.”

“Oh, yes I am.” As if to prove him wrong, she eased behind the wheel of her Honda Civic and plunged the key into the ignition.

Ben hit the unlock button on her door before she could close it and jerked the back door open.

Ava had the car in gear and was rolling backward out of the driveway when Ben flung himself into the backseat.

She slammed on the brakes, dumping Ben onto the floorboard, his legs hanging out of the compact car.

“Get out,” she said, her voice tight and angry.

Why did she have to be so stubborn? “I’m going with you. You need protection.”

“The only person I need protection from is you, Ben Parrish.”

## Chapter Three

Still seething, Ava hit the accelerator and shot down the quiet residential street. She didn’t know where she was going. Originally, all she’d wanted was to get away from Ben. With him in the backseat, that wasn’t likely to happen.

She could abandon the car, but then she’d be on foot. After having walked two miles earlier that day, she wasn’t sure she was up to another hike. The muscles across her abdomen tightened, reminding her that she needed to be calm. Under no circumstances was she to stress herself or her baby. The fetus needed another good month of gestation to ensure a healthy delivery.

Calm? Who was she kidding? Her disappearing-act husband, who’d rather lie than tell her the truth, was picking himself up off the back floorboard. Combine that with the fact that she might be the target of a deranged mobster and the minor detail that she really didn’t know where the hell she was going, pretty much summed up the stink-hole her life had become. Which reminded her—next step, she’d call Emily and give her a heads-up, just in case Ben was telling the truth and they really were in danger. Calm? Ava stopped short of laughing out loud. She took a corner too fast just as Ben sat up. Centrifugal force did what Ava had hoped, throwing the man across the backseat.

Served him right. After all this time, who did he think he was, waltzing in demanding she just get up and leave with him? How many times had she asked him to trust her and tell her the truth? How many lies had he shoved down her throat? Why should she trust him now? She’d become much more independent and had been without him for this long, she could go the rest of her life without Ben Parrish.

In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help the small niggle of joy chinking away at her resolve. Ben was alive. She squelched that joy before it took root and made her forget all the times he’d looked her in the eyes and chosen not to confide in her or tell her the truth about what he was doing. She didn’t even know this man who’d been her husband. All the weeks she’d stood up for him while he’d been gone, she’d wondered if she was just one big fool. All the nights she’d cried herself to sleep, worrying about his sorry carcass.

“Where are we going?” Ben pushed himself upright on the backseat and strapped on his seat belt.

“Since you weren’t invited, we aren’t going anywhere. I on the other hand, am going wherever the hell I please.” To prove it, she stomped on the accelerator, shooting through a yellow light.

Ben leaned forward, his breath stirring the hairs on the back of Ava’s neck. “Do you think it wise to drive like a maniac in your condition?”

“Do you think it wise to disappear for weeks and then show up unannounced, demanding that I leave with you immediately?” Ava skidded around another corner, just to get Ben and his warm breath off the back of her neck. It was doing crazy things to her libido, something she thought impossible at this late stage of pregnancy. Oh, but that heat she felt had nothing to do with outside temps. Damn the man! He’d always had that effect on her. One look, one breath and he had her body tied in exquisite knots.

Ben gripped the back of her seat with both hands. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, but I was in kind of a rush. What with gunmen chasing me and escaping from the prison from hell, I must have lost all my manners.” Ben inhaled and let out a slow steady breath. “If you’ll head back to Kenner City, I’d like to check in with Tom and the KCCU and straighten out this mess.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Ben Parrish. As far as I’m concerned, you’re one of the bad guys, and I’ve had enough stress, enough lies…enough!” Ava slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop in front of a sixteen-show movie theater. She didn’t want to drive around town with him breathing down the back of her neck for the rest of the night. All her sleepiness had vanished, she might as well stay up and watch a movie. What the heck! Ava shifted into park and turned back to her husband. “Got any money?”

“Not a dime. I told you, I just escaped from Wayne’s organization. I have nothing.”

“Good.” She grabbed her purse and eased out from behind the wheel. Finally, she had a way of ditching the bastard. With putting distance between her and Ben her main goal, Ava stalked toward the theater, her version of stalking being more akin to an angry shuffle. How foolish she must look, and fat and pregnant. Not that she cared what Ben Parrish thought of her now. He’d run out on her and left her holding the bag, answering the questions, living the lie, facing raising a child alone.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she slapped money on the counter in front of a ticket agent.

“Which movie?”

“I don’t care. Surprise me.” What was one more surprise in this crazy night?

The kid behind the counter gave her a strange look and pushed a ticket and her change through the window. “Enjoy the movie, ma’am. Theater number seven.”

Ben had followed her to the ticket window, but Ava didn’t dare look around. If she did, she might fall into his deep dark eyes and cave right there in front of the pimple-faced ticket clerk. She needed time away from him to think. To collect her thoughts and figure out what she should do about her marriage to a man she’d thought she loved. A man she wasn’t sure she could trust anymore. The hurt of the past few weeks was too fresh, too deep to forget in a moment. Not that she wanted to forget.

“Ava, don’t go in. You know I can’t follow you.”

“That’s your problem. You’re so resourceful, you figure it out.” Not that she wanted him to, not yet. She really needed time out of his overwhelming presence. When he didn’t move out of her way, she ducked around him and headed for the ticket taker.

“At least lend me your phone. I have no way of contacting the unit to let them know where I am.”

She hesitated. Should she do anything to make his life easier? If she granted this one request, would she cave altogether and fall back into his arms like the naïve child she’d been? Ava fished in her purse for her cell phone and tossed it to him. She made the mistake of looking at him then.

Ben gave her a sad smile as he deftly caught the cell phone in one hand. He did look tired and thin, his face haggard and long overdue for a shave.

Ava fought the urge to throw herself into his arms. She’d missed him so much. “I want it back.” Was she talking about the cell phone or their relationship? She didn’t even know.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can trust me.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “I’m not so sure.” She’d heard her father ask her mother to trust him so many times. All lip service. Ava turned and handed her ticket to the teenager wearing a theater uniform and she made her way to theater seven. Not until she settled in her seat did she remember she hadn’t called Emily. Ava would wait fifteen minutes and make her way back to the lobby and a pay phone.

FATIGUE DRAGGED AT BEN and the smell of popcorn nearly brought him to his knees. With nothing to eat and no money to enter the theater, Ben leaned against the wall inside the lobby, half hidden by a giant pot filled with a ten-foot tall, fake ficus tree, feeling completely exhausted and thoroughly sucker punched. Yet he kept a vigilant eye on the door, waiting for signs of any of Nicky Wayne’s goons. Not that he’d know all of them. They could be as thick as rats in a sewer on the streets of Vegas as far as Ben knew. That man walking in now, with the black polo shirt and black trousers could be one of Nicky’s men.

Ben straightened, automatically reaching for the Sig Sauer in his waistband before he remembered he’d left it in Ava’s car in case the theater had metal detectors at the entrance. It hadn’t, making Ben more certain he should have carried the gun with him.

A trim young woman joined the man, hooking her arm through his elbow and smiling up at him.

Okay, so maybe he was just being paranoid. Ben rolled his head around, attempting to loosen the stiff muscles in his neck.

Damn the woman! If she’d just come with him when he asked, he wouldn’t be standing in the lobby of this theater worrying about every person walking through the door. Ava didn’t know what was good for herself or their baby. And Ben did? He laughed out loud, the sound more a hoarse croak. His wife had managed just fine without him, a sobering thought.

He stared down at the phone, his vision blurring. Now what was Tom’s number? Lack of food made his brain slower than normal as he punched in the number and hit Send.

“Ava?” Tom’s voice came across the speaker.

“No, it’s Ben.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I have a man on the way over to Emily’s with a rental car and some cash.”

“Can you call him and tell him to meet me at…” Ben looked up at the theater and gave Tom the address.

“Hold on just a moment while I pass the information.” The line went completely silent for a minute. During which time, the aroma of popcorn had Ben in a near-faint. He couldn’t give up now. Hunger, plus the added anxiety of Ava being in the theater, in a public place where any one of Nicky Wayne’s people could get to her, had his stomach knotting painfully. He stepped out of the theater lobby into the warm, Las Vegas night air.

“Ben?” Tom’s voice broke through his gloom and doom thoughts.

Ben couldn’t answer right away as he struggled to stand upright.

“You doing okay, buddy?” Tom’s tone sharpened.

“I’m okay.” Ben didn’t feel okay.

“My guy should be pulling up in front of the theater about now. He was just around the corner when you called.”

Ben sagged against the wall. “Thank God.”

“You want me to come to Vegas?” Tom asked.

“No. I have to get Ava out of here. She’s not safe.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll call and let you know as soon as I get the situation in hand here.” As soon as he got Ava in hand. That would be the day. “By the way, where’s Ortiz? Why did I get you instead of him?”

“Ben, Ortiz is dead.”

“Damn, Tom, what happened?”

“It’s a long story, Ben. When you get here, we need to talk. Maybe you can help us figure that one out.”

Ben’s breath caught in his throat and held, while he tried to wrap his tired brain around that piece of news. He’d reported to Ortiz throughout his undercover mission with Del Gardo. Had Nicky Wayne figured out that Ortiz had sent Ben into the Del Gardo crime organization and killed him for knowing too much? And how much did Tom and Dylan know about his undercover assignment? At this point, did he tell Tom what he’d been doing? No. He needed to be there in person to tell Tom what he’d been working on and why. Anyone could intercept a cell phone call. “Yeah, we need to talk in private.”

“And Ben, Boyd Perkins is dead. We’re pretty sure he’s the one who actually killed Julie.”

Ben’s chest tightened as an image of Julie’s body lying on the hard ground rose in his mind. “Why? Did you find out why he killed her?”

“We think he wanted the medals. Julie had them until she stuffed them in the mail to each of us.”

“I should have been there earlier. I knew she was getting in too deep with the Del Gardo family.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Ben. It won’t bring her back.”

No, it wouldn’t. Julie’s death had been a terrible blow to Ben, Tom and Dylan. They’d gone through the FBI academy together. They had been inseparable. Now one was gone.

“Boyd wanted those medals,” Tom continued. “Someone stole mine and Dylan’s from the criminal lab. Yours is the only one they haven’t managed to steal.”

And Ava had it somewhere, making her a flaming red flag in front of the raging bull of Nicky Wayne’s crime organization. “Nicky knows that Del Gardo’s bank account numbers are inscribed on the backs of all of the medals Julie gave us. Whoever can put them together will have Del Gardo’s fortune.”

“Yeah. My bet is that whoever has mine and Dylan’s is probably pretty anxious to get his hands on the one you had.”

Ben pounded his fist against the bricks on the outer wall of the theater. “Damn. My best bet is that Nicky Wayne has the other two by now.”

A nondescript sedan pulled in front of the theater. “I have to go. The car just arrived.”

“Ben, be careful. Nicky has people everywhere. You’re not safe as long as you’re in Las Vegas.”

Ben had thought of that. Going back to the KCCU might not be such a great idea, either, if everyone still thought he was guilty. All he knew was that Nicky would be very focused on getting his hands on that medal and the inscription on the back.

With a quick scan at the occupants of the lobby, Ben prayed Ava would be all right by herself. Then he stepped to the curb to retrieve the car and cash Tom had promised. He’d only be gone from the theater for a moment. Nothing could happen in that short a time.

AVA TOOK A SEAT in the middle of a practically empty auditorium and stared up at the advertisements for soda and popcorn flashing across the wide screen without really seeing any of it. Other than two couples sucking face in the highest corners of the room, she had the place pretty much to herself. Just what she needed, an empty cavern to think in.

But she couldn’t think. Ben was on the other side of the walls, alive and anxious about her. A sob rose in her throat and threatened to cut off her air. How could she turn her back on him now? He’d been gone so long she’d given up on him and presumed him dead or completely corrupt. Either way she’d gone through all five stages of the grieving process: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. She couldn’t do it again. It had taken a huge toll on her health the first time.

For all she knew, he was still involved in one of the crime families. If not Del Gardo then it was Nicky Wayne. He could be lying about being held captive by Wayne. Working for Nicky Wayne made more sense considering he’d come back for the necklace. Ava had known about the bank account numbers. Jerry Ortiz had tried to get hers. She’d thought he and Boyd Perkins were the only ones after them. After Ortiz’s death, Ava had hidden the medal in a safe location.

If Ben was telling the truth, for once, and only came back to get the necklace but he still didn’t plan on sticking around, she’d be back at stage one. Ava swallowed the sob, her vision blurring.

Through the wash of tears filming her eyes, she saw another couple walk into the theater, a woman holding the arm of man dressed in a black polo shirt and slacks.

That should be her and Ben. Instead he was outside unable to get in because he had no money. Powerful guilt urged her to get up and go check on him. He’d looked pretty thin and hungry. What if he hadn’t been lying? What if he’d really been held against his will by Nicky Wayne?

Ava lurched to her feet and moved to the end of the aisle. She’d just check on him and make sure he wasn’t passed out on the floor from lack of food.

The couple stood at the end of her aisle, blocking Ava’s path.

“Excuse me,” she said.

“Are you Ava Parrish?” the woman asked, her back to the movie screen, her face shadowed.

Ava frowned, the hairs on the back of her neck rising to attention. “No,” she answered, instinct warning her that the couple wasn’t quite right. “Do you mind, I need to use the facilities.” She tried to push her way around the couple, but the man stood firm and the woman closed the gap between her and the backs of the stadium seats.

The man’s hand came away from the woman’s arm, revealing the cold hard barrel of a gun.

All the air left Ava’s lungs and she staggered backward, her legs bumping into the arms of the seats behind her. Her hand rose to protect her baby. “What do you want?”

“Come with us quietly and we won’t hurt you…or your baby,” the woman said, in a low whisper.

It didn’t matter. The couples in the corners were too into themselves to notice what was going on in the rest of the theater.

Ava had two choices, go with the evil couple and look for a way to ditch them, or scream and possibly take a bullet to the belly. Hindsight being twenty-twenty, Ava now saw the benefit of staying with Ben. This wouldn’t have happened had he been in the theater with her. Or better still, she wouldn’t have put her baby in danger if she’d just gone with Ben like he’d asked—no, demanded.

With the barrel of a gun pointed at her unborn child, Ava had no other choice. “Please, don’t shoot. I’ll go with you.”