Книга - Justice

Justice
Debra Webb


Her best friend's killer was dead, and so was Kayla Ryan's best lead to find her friend's missing child. But the determined police lieutenant didn't have it in her to give up.Now she would join forces with a secretive detective to find the people who'd sent the assassin and bring them to justice. Her life–and all those she loved–depended on exposing a chilling conspiracy. And she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her every move. Could the enemy be closer than Kayla had ever suspected?Athena Force: Chosen for their talents. Trained to be the best. The women of Athena Academy shared an unbreakable bond…until one of them was murdered.









Trained together at the Athena Academy, these six women vowed to help each other when in need. Now one of their own has been murdered, and it is up to them to find the killer—before they become the next victims….


Alex Forsythe:

This forensic scientist can uncover clues others fail to see.

PROOF, by Justine Davis

Darcy Allen Steele:

A master of disguise, Darcy can sneak into any crime scene.

ALIAS, by Amy Fetzer

Tory Patton:

Used to uncovering scandals, this investigative reporter will get to the bottom of any story—especially murder.

EXPOSED, by Katherine Garbera

Samantha St. John:

Though she’s the youngest, this lightning-fast secret agent can take down men twice her size.

DOUBLE-CROSS, by Meredith Fletcher

Josie Lockworth:

A little danger won’t stop this daredevil air force pilot from uncovering the truth.

PURSUED, by Catherine Mann

Kayla Ryan:

The police lieutenant won’t rest until the real killer is brought to justice, even if it makes her the next target!

JUSTICE, by Debra Webb

ATHENA FORCE:

They were the best, the brightest, the strongest—women who shared a bond like no other….




Justice

Debra Webb







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




DEBRA WEBB


was born in Scottsboro, Alabama, to parents who taught her that anything is possible if you want it bad enough. She began writing at age nine. Eventually, she met and married the man of her dreams, and tried some other occupations, including selling vacuum cleaners, working in a factory, a day-care center, a hospital and a department store. When her husband joined the military, they moved to Berlin, Germany, and Debra became a secretary in the commanding general’s office. By 1985, they were back in the States, and finally moved to Tennessee, to a small town where everyone knows everyone else. With the support of her husband and two beautiful daughters, Debra took up writing again, looking to mystery and movies for inspiration. In 1998, her dream of writing for Harlequin came true. You can write to Debra with your comments at P.O. Box 64, Huntland, Tennessee 37345 or visit her Web site at http://www.debrawebb.com to find out exciting news about her next book.


This book is dedicated to all the Athena Ladies and a terrific editor, Natashya Wilson—a true bombshell!




Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15




Chapter 1


Kayla Ryan eased her Jeep Cherokee into the alley between two long rows of U-Store-It buildings. She lowered the driver’s side window and cut the engine.

For a full thirty seconds she sat very still, utilized all her senses to estimate the threat level.

The cool December air felt thick with tension in spite of the utter silence enveloping the deserted storage facility. Nothing moved.

They waited. Listening. Anticipating her move…her risk level. At least two men. Maybe three.

Now or never.

Ten seconds more and she’d be made.

No way backup would arrive in time.

Her partner would be pissed.

It wouldn’t be the first time. She doubted it would be the last.

Her heart rate ramming into overdrive, Kayla opened her door and got out. She strode straight over to the nearest storage unit, number forty-two, and reached for the lock. Though she had no key, only a couple quick flicks with the lock pick she carried were required before the mechanism disengaged, falling open in her palm.

She removed the lock and raised the four-foot-wide overhead door. The grind of metal on metal screeched, shattering the silence and sending a clear message to the men about ten units down and on the next row who would be listening.

Nothing to worry about. Just someone adding to or taking from her storage unit.

Her gaze roving left and right, Kayla slipped into the shadows of the ten-by-twelve cinder-block unit. Whatever the boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling contained was of no significance. This wasn’t about unit forty-two or its contents.

Keeping her attention fixed on the vacant alleyway, she relayed a text message to Jim Harkey, her partner, from her cellular phone. The message was simple. SOS…UStoreIt.

She’d sent it once already. He hadn’t responded. Today was his day off. Hers too. But some things couldn’t wait.

With the phone clipped back on her utility belt, she wrapped her fingers around the butt of her weapon. The hiss of cool steel sliding from her leather holster prompted a sense of calm that instantly neutralized the negative effects of the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

She might be off duty but she never went anywhere, not even to bed, without her weapon. To a cop, being unarmed was the equivalent of being naked on stage in front of a jam-packed stadium. Not a good thing—unless you’re a part of a living art exhibit.

The muted sound of voices reached her position. She’d been right. Three. All male. All comfortable with continuing business since her presence had obviously been assessed as insignificant.

That kind of carelessness told her something else about her targets. They had grown complacent. Risky business for criminals.

Adopting a battle-ready stance, she eased out into the light of day. Her rubber-soled shoes made no sound on the concrete that formed the drive through the alley between the rows of storage units.

Four more units…three…she moved toward the end of the long row…two more. When she reached the final one she halted, held absolutely still and listened.

The voices were clear now.

“Twenty of the best,” one man bragged. “I can get you as many as you require.”

Kayla didn’t have to see the product to know what the man was hawking. High-end bikes. Valued at upwards of hundreds, even thousands, of dollars each. The goods were stolen from tourists who preferred to bicycle their way around Arizona’s trails and from university students who considered the designer bikes to be “all that” and more. The more expensive the product, the better the students from wealthy families liked it. Titanium frames, leather seats…top-end bikes came just about any way a customer wanted them.

Though the consumer might have to work hours, days or even weeks to earn the cost, it only took the average thief about eight seconds to cut a lock and scarcely a few moments more to ride off. Especially on campus, where the thieves easily blended into the student population, likely wearing backpacks filled with the tools of their trade.

The risk proved minimal in most cases, the reward more than sufficient. At one time a thief could only hope to turn a twenty-five or thirty-dollar profit on a three-hundred-dollar bike, but now was a different story. The better ones went for hundreds or even thousands a pop. Considering the risk and the slap on the wrist thieves got if caught, it was a far more desirable business than running drugs.

No middleman required. No recipes to concoct. No dangerous chemicals to dispose of. Just simple bolt cutters or lock picks and a backpack. Well, and the physical endurance to ride the stolen bike to wherever your pickup contact waited.

This particular group of thieves had been eluding law enforcement for months now. No one could determine where and how they disposed of the stolen bikes. Serial numbers were apparently changed, since the few registered ones stolen never surfaced. These guys would get more than a mere slap on the wrist. Petty larceny was one thing, but this was considerably bigger. Estimates put these guys at a six-figure business annually.

Athens was the perfect location. Situated close to Phoenix, a big college town, Athens offered a quick, neutral place for storage and distribution. Far enough away from the scene of the crime for comfort and yet close enough to facilitate the job.

But this was her town.

Criminals were not going to be allowed to operate under her jurisdiction as long as she could help it.

With one final deep breath, she braced herself for moving around the end of the building. If she waited for backup, chances were the deal would be done. She wanted the buyers as well as the seller.

When she would have swung around the corner, the sound of a car braking to a stop thirty or forty yards behind her drew her up short.

She swore softly. All she needed was the owner of storage unit number forty-two showing up and throwing a fit. Distraction was not a good thing, nor was being made by the bad guys because of an unfortunate twist of fate.

Her gaze narrowed on the dark sedan that parked behind her Jeep. She frowned. The vehicle looked familiar.

When a tall guy wearing jeans, a sweatshirt and a baseball cap strode up to one of the units and proceeded to tinker with the lock she let go the breath she’d been holding. Nobody.

Now, if he would just stay put and not come nosing around the corner in the event the next few moments got out of hand….

As the new arrival pushed the door of his unit upward Kayla turned her attention back to the voices on the other side of the narrow block buildings.

The deal had been made.

She had to move in now.

Hesitation stalled her. Something still didn’t feel right. She didn’t like having company show up at the last minute like this. She glanced toward the man in the ball cap one last time. He’d disappeared into the unit he’d opened. Just like she had when she first arrived. Too coincidental for comfort.

The voices around the corner snagged her attention once more.

She couldn’t wait any longer.

As she prepared to advance around the end of the building, a vague sort of recognition clicked in the back of her mind and she hesitated once more. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something important about the guy in the baseball cap that she’d missed here.

Then she knew.

She whipped around just in time to come face-to-face with the man in question.

“You still going after the bad guys all alone,” he commented quietly, for her ears only.

She glared up at Detective Peter Hadden. “What the hell are you doing here?” Her demand came out a whisper but there was no mistaking the ferocity. Ire roared through her, boosting the adrenaline already searing through her veins.

Hadden was with Homicide and Robbery in Tucson. This damn sure wasn’t his jurisdiction. Not to mention she was still irritated with him after their last chance meeting, which she realized now hadn’t been any more inadvertent than this one.

He was following her. She’d experienced that sensation far too often lately.

The shift in the tone of the exchange on the other side of the building drew her attention back in that direction and alerted Kayla to her new status.

She’d been made…at the very least deemed a possible threat.

The perps would scatter.

She had to act now.

Another curse hissed past her lips as she swung around the end of the building and lunged forward. She paused at the final corner that stood between her and the perps doing their dirty business.

A gunshot whizzed past as she stole a look around that corner.

She jerked back. Gritted her teeth and readied to swing around and return fire.

In a blur of unexpected motion Hadden charged past her.

What the hell was he doing now?

Gunfire erupted. Hadden’s as well as the enemies’.

She dived for the ground, rolled into the open and fired. One man was down, writhing and howling in pain. Hadden and another were entangled in a savage, rolling-on-the-ground hand-to-hand battle.

She fired once more. Her target stumbled when the shot tore through his thigh. But he didn’t stop. He headed straight for one of two vehicles waiting nearby.

She scrambled up and burst into a dead run. “Stop! Police! Drop your weapon!”

He glanced back, fired twice. Sent her ducking behind one of the vehicles.

So much for negotiations.

If he got away…

Her feet were moving even before the decision fully penetrated her brain. She dashed from her cover and made a dive for the passenger side door of the second vehicle at the same time her perp went for the driver’s side.

Weapons drawn, barrels leveled, they slid into the front seat simultaneously.

“You got a death wish, bitch?” he growled.

Pain glittered in his eyes. Kayla didn’t have to look to know that blood pulsed from the wound like a mini-geyser. It was possible he hadn’t noticed or that he just wasn’t ready to give up.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice dead calm. “But I’m not the one bleeding to death.”

He flinched. Didn’t look down. Damn, she mused. A real tough guy.

“I don’t want to have to shoot a cop,” he warned, his face already growing paler.

She wondered at that. Why would a bike thief, even a well-connected one making six figures, risk this level of jeopardy? It didn’t make sense.

No time to worry about that now. The black, somber barrel of his weapon remained aimed directly at her.

“Do you know how long it takes the average human to bleed out?” She cocked her head, peered around the lethal barrel and deliberately assessed him for a second or two. “Not very long when an artery is involved. After you lose that first liter it all goes downhill from there. It takes only minutes to reach a point where no amount of medical care will make a difference.”

He swallowed hard, the difficulty clear in the workings of his throat muscles.

“Do you really want to die over a bunch of over-priced bikes?” A line of sweat had already formed on his brow and upper lip. She took a risk, glanced at the leg. “Damn, it’s pumping out pretty fast. You feel dizzy yet? Cold?”

His hand shook—once, twice—before he lowered his weapon. “Call me an ambulance,” he choked out.

Kayla confiscated his weapon, called for the paramedics then made a makeshift tourniquet with his shirt when she couldn’t stop the flow of blood any other way.

Hadden had the guy he’d been tangoing with cuffed and was attending to the one he’d been forced to shoot. A shoulder wound involving mostly soft tissue, but the guy was crying like a baby. The buyer, Kayla surmised. He looked a little pudgy and had that fluorescent-lighting pallor of the skin—definitely not the type to be out pirating bikes.

“Ouch,” Hadden said as he looked over her handiwork on the guy with the femoral artery injury. “That’ll leave a mark.”

“He’ll live.” As long as the ambulance gets here in a hurry, she added silently. She’d have to keep a close watch on the jerk until then. Inflicting a lethal wound hadn’t been her intent, but she’d done what she had to in order to stop the perp from fleeing the scene and to protect herself…which might not have been necessary at all had she not been interrupted. She scrubbed her bloody palms over her jeans and eyed her uninvited backup. “What the hell are you doing here, Hadden?”

He lifted one broad shoulder in a negligent shrug. “Just driving by, thought you might need some help.”

“Bullshit,” she tossed right back. If he thought she was that naive he’d better get a grip.

Before she could pursue the point, two Pinal County cruisers arrived along with the ambulance.

“Hell, Ryan,” one of the deputies said as he surveyed the aftermath. “Why didn’t you just kill ’em all and save the taxpayers the cost of a trial?”

“Funny,” she muttered as she started walking toward the vehicles. She glanced over her shoulder at Hadden. “Don’t you go disappearing on me, we’re not finished yet.”

Two hours later, with two of the perps in the OR for surgery and the other in county lockup, Kayla had finished going over the scene with Steve Devon, the best county investigator in the Sheriff’s Department.

“I’ll need your report on my desk first thing in the morning,” Devon told her before letting her go. He flicked a sour look at Hadden. “Yours too, Detective.”

Devon didn’t have to spell out what that meant. A report was SOP, standard operating procedure. The urgency, however, was related to two wounded perps. Anytime shots were fired, the department flinched.

The investigator’s stern questions only added to Kayla’s building annoyance at Hadden. She glared at him as they walked toward their abandoned vehicles.

“This should have gone down without any shots fired.” If his arrival hadn’t set her targets on alert, a good portion of what transpired could have been prevented. She prided herself on doing her job with the least excessive force possible.

“You just keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, Ryan,” he snorted. “But those guys had no intention of being rounded up today, otherwise they wouldn’t have been armed. Or willing to shoot at a cop,” he added.

That part was true. She’d been surprised briefly by the unexpected exchange. But she still didn’t like him horning in on her bust.

She went around to the back of her Jeep and opened the hatch. After pawing through a dozen items that she didn’t know why she hauled around, she finally found the antibacterial wipes. For the good they would do. She had that scumbag’s blood all over her.

Hadden, playing it smart, kept his mouth shut as she cleaned herself up. By the time she’d gone through half the container of thin wipes her hands felt reasonably clean. There was nothing to be done about her clothes. The jeans and sweater were ruined.

She closed the hatch and settled her renewed fury on Hadden. “Now tell me what you were really doing here. This is my jurisdiction,” she added. “You have no business nosing around here without giving someone at the Sheriff’s Department a courtesy call.”

He grinned. A spear of warmth went through her. She looked away. She hated that he so easily turned the tide of her emotions. That was one reason she’d avoided him the past couple of months. Getting involved with another cop wouldn’t be smart. And she could see that coming a mile off. She knew Hadden’s type—nice guy, the kind who made lonely women fall in love all too easily.

“Now we’re even,” he said jokingly, but she knew that whatever his motivation, it was no joking matter.

“Don’t even go there,” she cautioned. Tucson was his jurisdiction, but her friend Rainy Carrington’s murder was her jurisdiction, no matter what the invisible boundary lines said. She would not give up on finding the whole truth. Not now…not ever. Hadden might as well get used to it. This had been a bad year for Kayla. First she’d lost her grandmother. Then, a few months later, one of her best friends had been murdered.

“I’ve been watching you the past couple of days,” he admitted, surprising her all over again.

She schooled her expression and planted her hands on her hips. “What for?” Every instinct told her she wasn’t going to like his answer. He’d been hiding things from her all along. But, so far, she’d had no reason to complain. God knew she was hiding plenty from him. That was another reason she’d steered clear of him the past couple of months.

“Why don’t we go someplace where we can talk?” The suggestion was accompanied by a long, searching look from those piercing blue eyes.

A shiver chased over her skin. Kayla gritted her teeth and would have liked nothing better than to chalk the reaction up to the weather, but, unfortunately, in southern Arizona that wasn’t likely. Even with only two weeks left before Christmas the temperature hung around fifty to fifty-five degrees Fahrenheit. Not cold enough to bring on the shivers.

It was him. There was no denying that reality. She’d been pretending for months now. Keeping him at a distance for more than one reason.

Though instinct warned her yet again that letting him too close would be a mistake, she just couldn’t help herself. For Rainy, she reasoned. If Detective Peter Hadden had discovered something related to Rainy’s murder, Kayla needed to know. The Cipher, the assassin who’d killed Kayla’s best friend, was dead. Samantha St. John, another friend and school-mate, had taken care of him. But whoever had sent him was still out there, the motivation a puzzle of bits of information that didn’t yet connect.

If it was the last thing she did, Kayla intended to solve that mystery. She wouldn’t rest until those responsible for Rainy’s death were brought to justice…or were six feet under. And she had to keep searching for Rainy’s child—or children—until she found them or proved none existed. That was the part that hurt the most. Rainy had wanted children so badly and all along she might have had at least one. The bastards who had mined her eggs when she was young herself had robbed her of her ability to conceive and also deprived her of knowing whatever offspring had resulted. And when Rainy had discovered what they’d done and tried to find them, they’d had her killed. Kayla would find the truth.

The Promise.

She and her closest friends had made that promise to each other all those years ago while students at Athena Academy. Each year the class was divided into small groups of students who worked together all year long to become the best they could be in all aspects of their academic lives. Kayla’s group had been called the Cassandras. Headed by Rainy, their senior mentor, the seven of them, including Sam St. John, had become extremely close and had ultimately promised to come if any of them needed help—no questions asked.

Rainy had called them together. Now she was dead. Murdered. Kayla and the rest of the Cassandras had a new promise to keep—solving the enigma of Rainy’s death and ensuring that all involved paid dearly.

For that single reason she would do whatever it took. Like risk getting close to a man who reached her on a level beyond the professional.

She realized Hadden was waiting for her to answer his question. Should they talk? Kayla glanced at her watch. “I don’t know, Hadden.” She shrugged indifferently. “It’s my day off and I actually have plans.” It was a lie but he didn’t know that. Well, there was one little thing she had to do—smooth things over with her partner. As she’d suspected, Jim had called during the middle of the wrap-up with the county investigator. He wasn’t happy. “I should probably get a move on.”

Hadden angled his head skeptically, clearly struggling to keep another grin off those nice lips. God. She resisted the urge to shake her head. Why did she have to notice his every damned asset?

“You expect me to believe that you just happened to be driving by this morning?” He gestured to the rows of storage units. “And discovered a deal going down involving a group of felons you, among others, have been tracking for months?” He was the one shaking his head now. “Give me a break here, Lieutenant Ryan.”

“I got a tip, all right?” It was true. She’d received an anonymous call just after she’d dropped Jazz off at school and headed for the gym—her plans for the morning. For a single mom with a career in law enforcement, free time was at a premium. Most of what little she had was either spent as quality time with her eleven-year-old daughter or in physical training.

Just another thing she’d already lived to regret—never taking the time she should for friends and family. Rainy was dead. And Kayla barely remembered the last time they’d gotten together before that tragedy.

“So, are we having coffee or what?” Hadden pressed.

Kayla looked straight at him, assessed what she saw in those intense blue eyes. He needed to share something with her. Anticipation and an underlying urgency radiated from his every feature.

“Sure, why not.” She shrugged again, as if whatever he had to say didn’t matter. “As long as you’re buying.”

Kayla climbed into her Jeep without looking back. When she heard Hadden pull out onto the road she backed up her vehicle, pulled forward and followed him. Attempting to guess what was on his mind would be a supreme waste of time so she didn’t bother.

He drove to a coffee shop on Olympus Road, the main drag in Athens, and parked in the lot. Kayla’s little community wasn’t that large, a few shops, a bank, a post office, and a supermarket. The only reason the tiny spot in the road had actually developed into a town was because the Athena Academy, the all-girls school Kayla had attended from seventh through twelfth grades, was nearby. Luke Air Force base was also close by, but there wasn’t much else around. Most folks around Athens went to Phoenix for major shopping and medical care.

Still, the town had amassed a population of about five thousand, and the powers that be had managed to wrangle a satellite station for the town from the Sheriff’s Department. The small law enforcement office was manned by two sheriff’s deputies at all times. With its continued growth Athens would no doubt be incorporating and forming its own city government in the next couple of years. So far members of the community had been in no hurry to take the formal steps. But that would soon change.

Nothing stayed the same.

Hadn’t she learned that the hard way?

Hadden emerged from his car and strode toward Kayla’s Jeep. She took her time getting out, turning her attention once more to consideration of his motivation for keeping her under surveillance. Professionally speaking, the only thing they had in common was the murder of Lorraine Carrington. Kayla flinched at the memory of that Saturday night back in late August. More unpleasant thoughts tumbled in on the heels of that memory.

Somehow Athena Academy was involved in Rainy’s death. Kayla didn’t want to believe it. She’d reasoned that the involvement only went as deep as certain personnel, but she couldn’t be sure.

That suspicion was just one of the secrets she couldn’t share with Peter Hadden. Was the primary reason she’d backed off from her original plan to work fairly closely with him. This was Cassandra business, to be shared on a need-to-know basis only.

His gaze locked with hers at precisely that moment, as if he’d read her mind and somehow summoned her full attention.

Keep this on the surface, in neutral territory, Kayla. You don’t know all the facts and Athena Academy certainly doesn’t need the bad publicity.

Shannon Conner, a TV news reporter and the only person ever to be expelled from Athena, had already done enough damage in that department. In the early months after Rainy’s death, the vengeful woman had done all within her power to make the school look bad. She’d showed up at Rainy’s funeral and implied that Athena Academy used its students for scientific experiments. More recently she’d tried to compromise Kayla’s fellow Cassandra Josie Lockworth, a captain in the Air Force. She’d reported on Josie’s fast rise in the force; but had tried to win her career by implying Josie was involved with a fellow officer. It hadn’t worked.

Victoria Patton, better known as Tory, another of the Cassandras and a top TV news reporter, had worked overtime to put the right spin on Conner’s negative reporting. But there were others out there who would like nothing better than to bring down the unusual preparatory school. Just another factor to consider in all this. Perhaps someone wanted Kayla to believe that the school was responsible for what had happened to Rainy. But the evidence continued to mount…there was no denying that.

When she and Hadden had settled at a small table in the farthest corner of the shop, away from the few other customers, he didn’t waste any time.

“There’s a new development in the Carrington case.”

Anticipation raced through Kayla. She’d been right. “What kind of development?”

Before he could respond the waitress arrived and took their order. Two black coffees. Kayla considered having a pastry but this wasn’t a social meeting. Even though there were times when she would kill for a chocolate-filled croissant, this wasn’t the time. She needed to focus.

“What kind of development?” The question was out of her mouth the instant the waitress moved away.

“As you well know, we’ve exhausted all avenues in an attempt to determine exactly what happened to Lorraine Carrington.”

The one thing she did know well was that she and the other Cassandras were the real ones who made up the we he spoke of. As far as Hadden and his department were concerned, there was no overwhelming evidence to prove Rainy’s death was anything more than an accident. Another reason Kayla couldn’t help being suspicious of Hadden’s continued interest in the case. A seat belt malfunction and a driver dozing off and running off the road was hardly the stuff murder investigations hinged on.

But Kayla knew the real facts. Rainy hadn’t simply fallen asleep at the wheel. Her sudden collapse into slumber had been brought on by the Cipher and a gadget he’d used on Alex—Alexandra Forsythe, another of Kayla’s Cassandra sisters—as well as on Kayla herself. On separate occasions in totally different locations, both she and Alex had fainted for no apparent reason during the weeks after Rainy’s death. Like Rainy, Alex’s incident had occurred while she was driving. It was a miracle she hadn’t been badly injured…or worse.

The Cipher had paid for his part in Rainy’s death. CIA agent Sam had tracked him down and had been forced to kill him in a standoff. But they were still no closer to finding whoever had sent the assassin than they had been weeks ago.

“In pursuing this investigation,” Hadden went on, “we’ve uncovered a number of details that don’t add up where Marshall Carrington is concerned.”

Kayla’s hackles rose instantly. “Look, Hadden, I know it’s SOP to suspect the spouse first and foremost when someone dies, but I can vouch for Marshall Carrington. There is no way he would have killed his wife. He loved Rainy.” Kayla blinked back the emotion that stung her eyes. “I know Marshall. He would never have hurt her. Never.” She couldn’t tell Hadden about the Cipher or anything else she and her Cassandra sisters had discovered. Not yet anyway.

The waitress set two cups of steaming dark brew on the table. “Anything else?”

Hadden lifted his hand in a negative signal and the young woman scurried off to help another customer who’d just arrived.

“I don’t doubt Carrington’s character as a husband,” Hadden said, some indefinable emotion filtering into his tone. “This is about his business dealings.”

Confusion lined Kayla’s brow. Hadden’s tone as well as his statement bewildered her. “Marshall is an archaeology professor. Outside his occasional jaunt to search for some ancient relic, what on earth could you find questionable about his profession?”

Hadden’s expression closed then, like a bank vault door slamming shut to fend off trespassers. The abrupt change set Kayla on edge. Whatever he intended to share with her, there was a great deal more he planned to keep to himself. Somehow it related to Marshall. And she knew before he spoke that it was not good.

“We have reason to suspect your friend Marshall is eyeball deep in a smuggling ring.”




Chapter 2


Noon had come and gone by the time Kayla showered twice—once just wasn’t enough, with her feeling as if that perp’s blood had penetrated deep into her pores. She’d scrubbed until her skin felt raw.

She laid the hair dryer aside and stared at her reflection. But was the blood really what bothered her just now? Peter Hadden’s words kept echoing in her brain. We have reason to suspect your friend Marshall is eyeball deep in a smuggling ring.

Not possible.

Rainy’s husband would never be involved with any sort of criminal activity. Not knowingly anyway.

Rainy’s husband.

Kayla looked away from the telling emotion in her eyes. She’d gotten a little too attached to Marshall these past few months. It wasn’t intentional…she hadn’t meant to allow her feelings to stray into dangerous territory. But it had been like trying to stop an avalanche. Impossible.

She’d always genuinely adored Marshall. Who wouldn’t? He was handsome, well-built, immensely charming and he had treated Rainy as if she were the absolute center of his universe. Who wouldn’t want a man like that?

No. Kayla shook off that line of thinking and retreated to her bedroom to pull on some clean clothes. It wasn’t about Marshall either. It was about Rainy.

Kayla sighed as she looked at her unmade bed. There was just never enough time. She dug through a pile of freshly laundered clothes that she hadn’t put away yet and selected her favorite jeans.

Rainy had always teased Kayla about her ability to make a place look lived-in without any real effort. That was the way Kayla preferred things—no fuss.

She tugged on her jeans. She missed Rainy so much. The hurt and tension stemming from her murder had drawn Kayla and Marshall together, that’s all. She knew better than most that stress did that sort of thing. It happened when you felt lost or detached from the rest of the world. You reached out to the closest human who might understand.

Her thoughts drifted to her final year at Athena Academy. Rainy had graduated long before and gone off to Harvard. Alex had graduated as well, one year previously. Though Kayla had loved her other Cassandra sisters, she’d missed Rainy and Alex to the point of distraction. Her Navajo heritage had tugged at her more strongly that year than any other. She’d just felt out of sorts, torn between what she’d been taught as a child and all that she’d learned at Athena.

Not that anything she’d experienced at Athena could be called bad in any way, but it had been different than the usual academic curriculum. Martial arts, weaponry, survival courses, multiple foreign languages. Too many other available studies to recall at the moment. The overall goal was the advancement and empowerment of women. All good. But somehow, in her senior year, Kayla had gotten off track, had lost some vital part of herself. In the search to regain completeness, she’d met and fallen for a cocky young officer from the Air Force base.

The image of the man she’d allowed to break her heart all those years ago flashed briefly through Kayla’s mind. Her automatic instinct was to banish any thought of him. But Josie’s call a couple weeks ago had Kayla hesitating. Josie Lockworth was a dear friend and a Cassandra, as well as a rising star in the Air Force. The same branch of the military in which Jazz’s father still served.

Mike Bridges wanted to know his daughter. Jasmine Michelle Ryan. The daughter Kayla had raised all alone. Admittedly, he had sent child support since the day Jazz was born, twelve years ago next month. And Kayla had been blessed with the full support of her family, so to say she’d done this alone wasn’t exactly accurate.

But so many times she had felt alone.

She shouldered into a sweatshirt, pulled her hair loose and began to braid it. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d been drawn to Marshall so strongly.

It had been so very long since she’d allowed herself to need a man on a personal level, much less an intimate one. Peter Hadden slipped into her troubled thoughts next. Her heart reacted instantly, picking up a few extra, foolish beats.

She couldn’t help smiling when she thought of the way he always looked a little rumpled. Sexy as hell. Totally the opposite of meticulously groomed Marshall. Peter Hadden was one of those men who made the just-dragged-out-of-bed look so appealing.

Damn him.

How many times had she longed to run her fingers through his tousled hair? To yank his rumpled suit clean off his body. To ensure that it was properly laundered and pressed, of course, she’d assured herself.

Yeah, right.

And those eyes. Amazing, she admitted, allowing the momentary lapse in sanity while no one was around to notice. But it was that damned smile that got to her the fastest. Sexy, flirty, and so warm. No, not warm. Hot.

And even more than that, she found his dogged persistence dangerously tempting. No matter how often she pushed him away, he kept coming back. You had to love a guy who didn’t give up.

Why couldn’t she simply enjoy him? Her fingers faltered in their work as she secured the end of her waist-long braid. Good question. She was twenty-nine. She’d scarcely even dated since Jazz became a part of her life. What prevented her from having a no-strings physical relationship with a man?

Warmth spread down her limbs at the concept.

Mike popped back into her head. Because her life was complicated enough.

She’d fallen for a sexy smile and amazing eyes once before. Though Mike’s were hazel, the same combination of green and blue that Jazz had inherited, the effect was the same. He’d turned Kayla inside out with just a look.

Maybe it was past time she’d allowed a man back into her life. Didn’t her own mother and sister broach that very subject now and again? Like clockwork.

Still, now was not the time. Until those behind Rainy’s murder and the fate of her offspring were solved, getting involved with anyone was out of the question. Especially considering this latest turn of events where Hadden was concerned. Kayla owed it to Marshall to protect him.

No. She owed it to Rainy.

Rainy had loved Marshall. Kayla would protect him for that very reason if for no other.

She walked over to her bedside table and picked up the framed photograph of her precious daughter. Jazz had the same long dark hair as Kayla, the same features. Only the color of her eyes had made it from her father’s side of the gene pool. No fancy Ivy League college or high-powered career could have made Kayla’s life more complete. Like all Athena graduates she had received a scholarship offer from a prestigious school, Princeton, in fact. But Jazz was far more important to Kayla than anything else.

The idea that Rainy might have at least one child out there—a child she hadn’t even known about—squeezed at Kayla’s heart. What had become of that child or children—if it even existed—was just another piece of the puzzle surrounding Rainy’s death.

During Rainy’s autopsy, Alex had discovered that Rainy still had her appendix. Yet, all those years ago in school, Rainy had supposedly had an appendectomy during seventh grade.

In the autopsy, Alex had also discovered scars—old scars—on Rainy’s ovaries. Now the remaining Cassandra’s were certain that someone had actually faked the appendectomy to mine her ovaries, stealing her precious eggs.

Marshall had explained that when he and Rainy hadn’t conceived, they’d sought help from a specialist to no avail. That must have been when Rainy had begun to suspect the truth. And she’d never had a chance to tell her friends those suspicions.

Kayla desperately needed to talk to that specialist. But Dr. Deborah Halburg had been out of the country for months now. No one knew when she was expected to return to her practice in Tucson.

Darcy Steele, a Cassandra as well as a private investigator, had managed to find one woman, a Las Vegas showgirl known as Cleo Patra, who had gotten paid to be a surrogate mother around the same time as Rainy’s supposed appendectomy. Cleo had given birth to a baby, but had no idea what had happened to the child.

Alex had connected with Justin Cohen, whose sister had died giving birth to a surrogate baby about nine months after that time. Justin was certain Athena Academy had something to do with his sister’s death, and the Cassandras had come to believe him.

Tory, using her reporter’s instincts and connections, had discovered that a fertility clinic had been burglarized all those years ago and that one of the missing sperm specimens belonged to Navy SEAL and hero Thomas King. And when Tory had been sent to interview King on a completely unrelated story, someone had tried to kill them both.

Sam had taken down the Cipher, the man who’d killed Rainy.

Josie, who had connections in Army Intelligence, had looked for more information on the Cipher and had learned of an obscure lab, numbered 33, connected to some kind of an experiment called “cipher.” So far, they had found no connection between Lab 33 and Athena Academy. In fact, they’d found no further information about the mysterious lab at all. But the investigation was far from over.

Using the skills Athena Academy as well as life had taught them, the Cassandras would work together to solve the rest of this mystery. Rainy might never have had the opportunity to know her child. But, if that child existed, it would know about its biological mother.

The telephone rang and Kayla jerked out of her agonizing thoughts.

She’d already heard that the two injured perps were out of surgery and stable. Maybe the investigator had more questions. She hoped not. Even the idea of a shooting being questioned by superiors gave most cops the willies. Kayla was no exception. Though she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, that fact didn’t keep her from experiencing a moment’s trepidation.

“Ryan.”

“Kayla, it’s Alex.”

A new kind of anticipation erupted inside Kayla. “You have news?” She could scarcely breathe as she waited for Alex to respond. Alexandra Forsythe had once been Kayla’s best friend. That relationship had been strained this past decade or so. But she and Alex were working on that. It was a damned shame it had taken Rainy’s death to make them both realize they couldn’t let their old disagreement fester forever.

Alex was still working with Justin Cohen, who was now an FBI agent, to find the truth about Justin’s sister and how her death might be connected to Rainy’s, so many years later.

“Not the news you’d like to hear,” Alex told her, her tone far too somber.

“What’s up?” Kayla sat down on the edge of the bed and tried not to jump to any conclusions or fear the worst. Even if all their leads ran into dead ends they had to keep searching. Couldn’t stop until they knew the whole truth.

“This may be nothing, but I’ve got a feeling we shouldn’t let it pass without finding out.” Alex hesitated a moment as if she wasn’t one hundred percent certain of how to proceed. “Allison called me this morning.”

Allison Gracelyn had attended Athena. She’d been in Rainy’s grade and was older than the Cassandras. Allison and Rainy had been good friends. Since Allison’s mother had founded Athena, Allison now served as a consultant on the school’s board. Like Kayla and the other Cassandras, Allison grieved Rainy’s loss.

Alex continued, “I got the distinct impression that she was fishing. She’d tried to call Tory but couldn’t get her. She’s off on some story. Anyway, Allison wanted to know if we anticipated any further damage from Shannon Conner. I told her we thought Tory had that situation under control. But during the course of the conversation, Allison mentioned that there was an Athena Academy meeting of the board at one-thirty this afternoon.”

“You think I should be there,” Kayla offered. Though she hadn’t been invited. That little detail wouldn’t stop her. Kayla glanced at the clock. 1:15 p.m. She might make it if she left right away.

“I do, Kayla.” Alex sighed. “It’s difficult for me to bring myself to speak this way about the school, but something somewhere isn’t right. One or more members of the staff are hiding something. We have to know what that is.”

Betsy Stone immediately came to mind. The Cassandras had learned that Ms. Stone, Athena’s school nurse, had also worked part-time for a Dr. Henry Reagan, at the time of Rainy’s “appendectomy.” They were convinced that Reagan had something to do with the surrogate mothers and Rainy’s eggs. Dr. Reagan had been Justin Cohen’s sister’s doctor during her pregnancy, as well as Cleo Patra’s.

Nurse Stone admitted having worked with Dr. Reagan two days a week in his office years before his death, but knew nothing of any unethical practices.

Then there was Christine Evans, Athena’s principal since the day the doors opened. Alex felt certain Christine was hiding something. Kayla got the same impression.

But hunches and gut instincts alone didn’t solve cases.

“I’m on my way,” Kayla assured Alex. It felt so good to talk to her again without all those years of tension in the way. Mike Bridges had done more than break Kayla’s heart. Getting involved with him had caused a twelve-year rift between Alex and Kayla. Alex had tried to talk Kayla out of getting too serious with Mike all those years ago. They’d argued bitterly. But that gap was slowly closing now. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”



At 1:25 p.m. Kayla turned off Olympus Road and headed down Script Pass. She might make it on time. Showing up uninvited was tactless enough. Walking in once the meeting had officially begun went against the grain of even the most liberal etiquette.

She stopped at the new guard shack that graced the entryway to the school and shuddered as she was reminded of just why the guard was now necessary. Christine Evans had decided, after Rainy’s death and subsequent suspicious events at the school, to post a guard twenty-four hours a day, even on holidays, to monitor visitors.

She flashed her ID and continued on to the school buildings.

She parked in the circle drive in front of the main building and jumped out of the Jeep before it stopped rocking at the curb.

Kayla hurried up the walk that cut across the well-manicured lawn. Usually when she arrived at the academy she took a moment to admire the lawn and beautiful fountain surrounded by the current season’s gorgeous flowers. But that was the furthest thing from her mind today. The fact of the matter was, most things had taken a back seat to Rainy’s murder since that muggy August night.

Whatever her distractions, Kayla always experienced an overwhelming sense of déjà vu when she entered those massive front entry doors. Boundless halls. Quiet rooms filled with memories. Voices and images from the past spent within these walls filtered through her mind, reminding her of those wondrous formative years shared with the Cassandras.

If there was a long-buried secret hidden within these walls—walls that had always felt safe—Kayla had to find it. Not only for Rainy, but for all who would pass through these halls in the years to come. This school was a very special place. Whatever wrongs had been committed here would be righted.

Kayla bypassed Christine’s office and headed straight for the conference room. Thankfully, the board members were just settling down around the long table as she entered the room.

Christine Evans was the first to notice Kayla’s arrival. A former military woman, Christine still had that authoritative bearing, squared shoulders and head held high. Her short gray hair added to her distinguished air. “Kayla.” She met her halfway across the room. Gave her a quick hug. “What brings you here today?” Worry lines marred her brow as she surveyed Kayla’s face. Long ago, a military training accident had left Christine blind in her left eye, but she missed nothing. “Nothing’s happened, I hope.”

After what they’d all been through since Rainy’s death, the worst was the first thing that came to mind for anyone involved. Christine’s expression—and the question—were sincere.

“Kayla.” Allison Gracelyn came up next to Christine before Kayla could respond. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back in a large barrette. “I haven’t seen you since…” Her words drifted off. She didn’t have to say the rest…since the funeral. Allison’s brown eyes reflected the same ache that Kayla felt.

Kayla managed a smile, pressed her cheek to Allison’s in a brief gesture of affection. “It’s good to see you, Allison.”

One by one the members of the board who were present greeted Kayla, made her feel welcome despite the unexpectedness of her appearance. No matter how cordial each was, Kayla could feel the underlying tension simmering in the room.

“I heard about today’s meeting from a friend,” Kayla said, prompted by Vice Principal Rebecca Claussen’s question as to what brought her to the school today. “As a member of law enforcement in Athens,” she took a moment to meet each board member’s gaze, “and a graduate of Athena, I feel a close bond with this school and recent events have raised a number of concerns.”

Now she had everyone’s attention.

Christine paled. Her vice principal, Rebecca, looked every bit as stricken. Her bright hazel eyes stood out in stark contrast to her fair skin and dark, gray-streaked hair.

“Explain what you mean by concerns,” Adam Gracelyn demanded in the judicial tone he’d honed over a lifetime on the Arizona Supreme Court as vice chief justice. His brown eyes bored into Kayla’s, ensuring she understood that he possessed a great deal of power and influence. He would not be intimidated.

Which was not her intent, she argued mentally.

Or was it?

There were secrets here and she knew it. Some she had already learned. Like the fact that a Dr. Carl Bradford had been dismissed around the time Rainy’s eggs were probably mined. Christine had insisted that his dismissal was a result of inappropriate behavior toward Nurse Betsy Stone. Somehow that just didn’t sit right with Kayla.

Kayla doubted she would have any better luck interrogating this group than she’d had with Betsy Stone. Whatever secrets they shared, if any, they intended to keep quiet as long as possible.

But not all were involved in this conspiracy. She hoped.

Could she allow what one or more persons had done to influence her judgment of everyone affiliated with the school? That didn’t seem fair…but what choice did she have? There simply was no way to know who had participated in the evil scheme that had prevented Rainy from bearing her own children.

No one suggested they sit down, so Kayla pushed aside her troubling thoughts and forged onward. “There are still a number of unanswered questions regarding Rainy,” she said bluntly. “And the leads seem to dead-end at the school.”

Christine flared her hands. “We’ve cooperated with your every request. What more would you have us do?”

“This has something to do with that awful Conner woman’s exposé,” Allison countered, her brown eyes every bit as stern as her father, the judge’s. Allison wasn’t actually a board member, just a consultant who flew in from D.C. for certain meetings, but she had every intention of seeing that the school was run as her mother, Marion, the school’s founder, would have wanted. Her motives were good. But how far would she go to protect the school’s reputation?

“In part,” Kayla allowed. “Although I think Tory has the situation under control with her insider stories on the academy. Viewers believe Tory. When she exposed Shannon Conner’s lies for what they were, I’m confident she undid most of the damage.” Tory had also recently gotten the better of Shannon when Shannon had tried to hurt Air Force captain Josie Lockworth’s career with yet another tasteless exposé on Athena students.

“But how can we be sure,” the elder Gracelyn argued. “We have to take a long, hard look at how this kind of negative publicity could affect funding.”

Nods and sounds of agreement went around the room.

“Especially considering that we’re moving into an election year,” Christine added sagely.

“You’re aware,” the judge said to Kayla, “that our funding from the government is at the President’s leisure. Should a new commander-in-chief decide that our work here has outgrown its worth, that funding will vanish in a puff of bureaucratic smoke.”

Kayla knew how much the school depended upon funding. The truth was that the government’s paltry contribution was not nearly enough. Wealthy private donors were the school’s livelihood. Bad publicity could do far-reaching damage. That was one reason the school had always maintained such a low profile. No publicity equated to good publicity was the motto. Don’t draw attention. For weeks Shannon Conner and her twisted accusations had drawn the scorching scrutiny of most of the free world.

Uncertainty lanced Kayla. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Shannon’s stories carried any merit, but when she thought of what had been done to Rainy, doubt crept in.

Had this revered school experimented on its students?

Was there anyone else who’d fallen victim as Rainy had?

Kayla swallowed back the doubt. She wouldn’t believe that. Couldn’t believe it. This situation had to be isolated, involving one or two members of the staff at most. To believe anything else would shake the entire foundation of all she held dear.

“I know you’re all very concerned about the publicity over the past few months, but its novelty has almost worn off,” she said. “Once the fall session started and Tory worked her magic with some positive stories, Athena was scarcely mentioned in the media anymore. I think that’s behind us.” She braced herself for a maelstrom. Her next words would wreak a havoc of their own. “What I don’t think we’ve cleared up is this school’s involvement in what happened to Rainy.”

Rebecca Claussen threw up her hands. “I can’t believe you’re bringing that up again.” She shook her head. “What do we have to say to convince you that whatever happened didn’t happen here?”

“Kayla,” Christine put in, “you know we wouldn’t allow anything like that. How could you even think such a thing?”

The Gracelyns glared at her. No one wanted to discuss the issue. No one wanted to believe. The truth was, no one even wanted to know. They wanted this over and forgotten. Buried.

Hell, Kayla didn’t want to consider the idea either. But it was necessary. As a cop, she could put aside her personal feelings and see that need. But these people weren’t cops. And she was talking about their baby. Everyone in this room had given their all for Athena Academy. Allison’s own mother, the founder, had paid the ultimate sacrifice. She had died here.

That last thought stuck in Kayla’s brain and reverberated for a moment. Marion Gracelyn had been murdered on school grounds a few years back. She was thought to have been a victim of an interrupted burglary. But was that what really happened?

Before any more new conspiracy theories could formulate, Kayla clarified her position on the matter of Rainy’s medical mix-up. “I know it didn’t happen here. Both you and Nurse Stone,” she said to Christine, “have explained that Rainy was rushed to the hospital in Phoenix when she got sick. And the mistake in her medical chart must have happened there. I know. But we’re missing something. And I can’t let this matter rest until I find the whole truth.” She looked straight at Christine as she said the last.

Christine averted her gaze.

The judge broke his simmering silence. “You do what you have to do, Lieutenant Ryan.” That he used her title and last name told Kayla the position he’d taken. She was now considered an enemy to some degree. “This school is beyond reproach,” he continued. “As an Athena graduate you should be ashamed of yourself for even suggesting that this fine institution would be involved in any such evil deeds.” He leveled a gaze on Kayla that unsettled her to her very core. “Do what you must, but remember we have nothing to hide.”



Judge Gracelyn’s words were still echoing in Kayla’s ears as she reached her daughter’s school later that afternoon. She pushed the unsettling subject aside and focused on the here and now. Pinal County Elementary. Next year Jazz would attend middle school. That idea made Kayla feel old.

She pulled alongside the schoolyard curb behind the dozens of other vehicles waiting for the final bell to ring. It felt impossible that Jazz was almost twelve. How could that much time have passed so quickly?

Kayla thought of those first few months after graduating from Athena, when her pregnancy could no longer be kept secret. It hadn’t been so easy then. Though her parents had accepted her situation more readily than Kayla would have guessed, there had been some amount of strain. And yet, each and every member of her generous family had pitched in, gone above and beyond to help. When Jazz had turned one, Kayla had known she couldn’t wait any longer to get on with her life. She’d gone to the police academy and had acquired a college degree in night school. And when she’d finished, Collin Masters had just been elected county sheriff and had invited her to join his department. It hadn’t hurt that he was a longtime friend of Kayla’s father.

She loved her job and hadn’t looked back.

Until now.

She couldn’t help wondering how life might have been different if things hadn’t happened as they had. What if she’d never met Mike Bridges? Never fallen for the cocky jerk?

She wouldn’t have Jazz.

Just then, Jasmine Ryan came bursting through the school doors.

A grin split across Kayla’s face as she watched Jazz hurry toward her through the sea of students. It didn’t matter what might have been. All that mattered was that she and Jazz had each other. No way would Kayla’s life have been complete without this little girl. No way.

“I hate boys!”

This announcement was made scarcely before Jazz plopped into the passenger seat.

Kayla smothered a laugh. “Really? Now, why is that?”

Her brow furrowed with concentration, Jazz buckled her seat belt. “Because they’re stupid.” Her task complete, she leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. “Why would I like a stupid boy?”

Kayla resisted the urge to encourage her daughter to keep that attitude. She pulled away from the curb and pointed the Jeep in the direction of home.

At age eleven, boys could seem awfully silly. By twelve or thirteen a girl’s outlook on the subject always changed. She glanced at her daughter. Nature had a way of working its magic. Poor kid. She had no idea. There wasn’t much parents could say to prepare their children for adolescence.

During the drive home the conversation shifted to Christmas. Friday was the last day of school, Jazz reminded her. Like Kayla could forget. That meant she had to get the last of her shopping done this week.

She parked in the short drive in front of their small bungalow.

“I’ll get the mail!” Jazz unbuckled herself and bounded out the door. She slowed only long enough to tug her backpack onto her shoulders. Since she’d gotten that pen pal from Croatia she couldn’t wait to check the mail every day.

Kayla eased out of the vehicle a bit more slowly. The aches and pains from this morning’s bust had settled into her muscles and joints. She’d hit the ground hard after Hadden made that lunge into the open. He’d left her no choice. Mentally swearing, mostly at him, she pushed his image aside. She wasn’t going to let him creep back into her thoughts any more than she would the ongoing investigation into Athena Academy. Her time with her daughter was far too precious. There would be plenty of time to mull over the day’s events after Jazz was tucked in for the night.

Kayla had just unlocked the front door and pushed it inward when her daughter raced up beside her.

“Yours.” Jazz thrust a handful of mail at her. “Mine.” Her face beaming, she held up one envelope for her mother to see the overseas address. “I gotta go do my homework.” She sprinted through the door like a gazelle.

Inside, Kayla flipped through the envelopes, tossing a couple in the trash and a couple more onto the stack where next month’s bills waited. The last one brought her up short. She scrutinized the elegantly embossed return address, her heart pounding.

Athena Academy.

Her fingers cold and shaking, she tore open the envelope. By the time she unfolded the enclosed letter her knees had given way, forcing her to seek a place to sit down.

It is with great pleasure that we extend this very special invitation….

Jasmine Michelle Ryan…

…seventh-grade class commencing in September of the upcoming year…

Attendance at Athena Academy was by invitation only. No amount of money…no amount of power and influence got a girl through those doors. Only the best…only the ones considered special were invited.

Kayla knew her daughter was exceptionally bright. Extremely athletic. Those qualities combined with her age made her the perfect candidate.

But…God…Kayla wasn’t ready for this. Not now.

Athena wanted Jazz.




Chapter 3


For a long moment Kayla watched her daughter sleep. It was 6:15 a.m. Fifteen minutes past the time she usually woke Jazz for school. Somehow she couldn’t seem to bring herself to move forward into this morning.

It wasn’t even light outside, wouldn’t be for another hour or so. Mornings like this Kayla wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers and snuggle with her sweet child. But there was life to contend with. Work for Kayla, school for Jazz. Even at the ripe old age of eleven there was still the occasional morning during summer vacation or winter break that the two of them enjoyed a few extra minutes together, giggling and cuddling.

How much longer would her little girl indulge her mother’s sentimental need to cherish those swiftly vanishing moments of childhood as the child became a woman?

Jazz was growing up so damned fast. Kayla’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. Where had the time gone? It seemed just yesterday she was in diapers and squealing in delight the moment Kayla walked through the door to pick her up after work. Now they talked about boys and argued over what clothes were appropriate for a girl who had outgrown corduroy overalls and pigtails but who hadn’t quite made it to high heels and highlights just yet.

“I’m not a baby,” Jazz would argue. She wanted to dress like her favorite pop diva. A pretty scary idea to Kayla’s way of thinking.

But not nearly as scary as some things.

Kayla crossed the room and stared out the window, watched the dark split apart as the sun reached ever upward, sending forth fingers of light, banishing the final remnants of night. She’d spent that night, most of it anyway, tossing and turning, mulling over the past as well as the future.

She’d loved her time at Athena Academy. No question there. She’d formed bonds that would never be broken this side of the grave. Had learned and experienced far more than a student could hope to in public school. For years Kayla had secretly wondered if her daughter would receive an invitation as she had. She was one of the only two Cassandras who’d done the motherhood thing, and Darcy, the other mother, had a four-year-old son. Were the others wondering if Jazz would be invited to attend Athena? Had it even crossed anyone else’s mind?

Kayla would have to ponder the concept awhile herself before she went to her parents for input. They had once been faced with this same decision.

She needed to get used to the idea. To talk it over with Jazz, see how she felt. She’d shared stories about her time at the academy with her daughter. Especially the survival courses at Yuma. Jazz loved to hear about those. Kayla considered that as a student at Athena her daughter would have access to the kind of math and science classes most high school students didn’t even know fell into the categories, like astronomy and cryptology, forensics and genetics. The field trips and other courses, such as weaponry, martial arts and foreign languages, were just a few of the perks. The expectations and level of higher thinking were far broader and deeper than even the best private schools in the country.

And it wouldn’t cost Kayla a penny. Her child would receive all these wondrous benefits simply because she’d been invited.

But what if Kayla learned that Athena was deeply involved in what had happened to Rainy? Could she assume her child would be safe there? She had been safe. Outside her own imprudence, no harm had come to her at Athena. Only good.

Kayla moved back to the bed and smiled down at her child. And even her foolish behavior during her senior year had resulted in a very good end.

This wasn’t a decision she could make right now. There were far too many considerations. Would Jazz even want to leave her friends? Kayla had struggled with that aspect of Athena life, as most of the students surely had. Admittedly, new, strong bonds had been formed by all. But did that make it the right thing?

A heavy sigh pushed past her lips. Being a parent was a tough job. She leaned down and kissed Jazz’s cheek. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” she murmured. “Time to get up.” Her daughter roused slowly, reluctantly, giving Kayla a fleeting glimpse of the child who still lingered on the edge of Jazz’s grown-up attitude and maturing body.

While Jazz had her breakfast, Kayla strapped on her weapon and pulled on her jacket. Her uniform consisted of khaki pants and shirt with a black jacket. The black utility belt and rubber-soled shoes were her only accessories other than the khaki-colored baseball cap that sported the county sheriff’s emblem. There had been a time when all sheriff’s deputies had worn round-billed headgear that looked a little like a Smoky the Bear hat, but not anymore. Thank goodness.

Eventually Kayla intended to work her way up to county investigator, but she was in no hurry. She liked staying around Athens, being close in the event Jazz needed her. Moving up to the position of investigator would require that she work all over the county. For now she wasn’t interested in working cases that far away from home. Later, maybe. She’d reached the rank of lieutenant a year ago and that was about as high as she could hope to go if she wanted to stay local.

Her partner, Jim Harkey, had never bothered with anything beyond the sergeant’s exam. He liked being a sergeant and wanted no part of the political crap, as he called it, of obtaining a higher rank than his current one. He had no interest whatsoever in becoming a part of the brass. No offense to her, he would always tack on to the statement. Kayla took no offense. To each his own, she told him.

This morning after she dropped Jazz off at school she had follow-up work on yesterday’s larceny bust. On her lunch break she intended to drop by the Academy to talk to Betsy Stone once more. Kayla had no idea how much good it would do since she’d already talked to the nurse on two occasions and gotten zip, but she had to try again. Try being the operative word, since the nurse almost always managed to be gone when Kayla popped in. Every instinct told her Betsy knew a hell of a lot more than she was telling. And Christine was hiding something as well. Maybe nothing significant…but something.

Dr. Reagan was the key to this. She knew it with every fiber of her being. Reagan had overseen the surrogates.

Too bad he was dead.

Kayla’s gut told her that there was something mighty suspicious about his sudden death four years ago. No one seemed to know where he was buried. Hopefully, his files would hold some answers. All she had to do was find them. The storage facility that housed retired files from numerous physicians in the Tucson and Phoenix area and that had Reagan’s files listed in their inventory could not explain the missing files. They were simply gone. Another dead end.

“I’m taking your backpack to the car,” Kayla called to Jazz. That was her official ten-minute warning. Once the backpack was in the Jeep the clock was ticking down. 7:15. Kayla liked being on her way no later than 7:30. That gave her time to drop off her daughter and get to the office before eight.

“I’m brushing my teeth!” Jazz shouted from down the hall.

It was the same routine every morning. Jazz took her time with breakfast, which was okay with Kayla, then finally decided upon one of the three outfits they’d gone round and round about the night before. Narrowing it down to three without an all-out war was the best the two headstrong ladies could do before bedtime.

Just something else Jazz had inherited from Kayla’s side of the family, a stubborn streak a mile wide.

By ten-minute warning time her daughter was generally ready to roll with the exception of brushing her teeth and one final check to see that she had everything she would need for the day.

Outside, the sun had peeked over the hills and chased away the lingering dusk. A few shadows still hung around, mostly from the neighbor’s two-story house and the scattering of trees between the two homes. Kayla breathed in the crisp morning air. She loved it here. Felt safe in a way big-city living could never offer. Alex and Tory might like the faster pace of the city. Rainy’s career and marriage had taken her to Tucson. Josie lived wherever the Air Force assigned her. Darcy had moved to a small town to escape her abusive husband but Kayla suspected she would move to a bigger city and expand her P.I. business now that he’d been arrested. Kayla would take her small-town home over anything else.

She tossed the backpack into the front passenger seat but hesitated before closing the door. Chill bumps whispered over her skin. She frowned. Shook herself. What the hell?

Kayla couldn’t say what it was for sure, but she had the almost overwhelming sensation that someone was watching her. She resisted the urge to whip around and survey the neighbors’ yard.

She shook herself again. Had to be her imagination running away with her. But then, this wasn’t the first time she’d felt someone watching her. Each time she’d rationalized the episode away. Now she wondered if Hadden was lurking out here in her yard somewhere. If so, she might just have to kick his fine-looking backside.

Slowly she closed the door and turned back toward the house. Nothing moved. As she headed in that direction she covertly scanned the yard, hers as well as the neighbors’. Nothing.

Still, that insistent internal alarm wouldn’t let go.

The front door slammed.

Kayla jerked at the sound, her eyes instantly going to the small covered porch.

“I locked the door!” Jazz flew down the steps. “Don’t forget I have choir practice after school.”

Kayla let go the breath she’d been holding. “Got it.”

Forcing the disturbing feeling from her mind, she dropped her daughter off at school and drove to the office.

The satellite station that served Athens wasn’t very large. Just a couple of small rooms that shared an even smaller lobby and bathroom and a sort of conference room designated so merely by virtue of the long table and mismatched chairs sitting about. A coffeepot and soft drink machine occupied one corner of the lobby. Shirley, who served as a receptionist and a liaison to the community, kept a tidy desk in the center of the lobby. Five upholstered chairs and a couple of large plants took up the rest of the space.

Kayla shared one of the offices with her partner while a second office served as a workroom for files.

“Good morning, Shirley.” Kayla offered her usual smile and saluted the middle-age lady with her take-out coffee cup. It wasn’t that Shirley didn’t make good coffee, it was just that Jim usually beat Shirley into the office and his coffee made paint thinner smell good. Kayla’d never worked up the nerve to try it.

“Morning, L.T.” Shirley said this with nothing more than a cursory glance over her morning newspaper. “Heard about the excitement yesterday. Thought you had the day off.”

“L.T.” was Shirley’s way of showing off that she’d spent twenty-plus years as a military wife. She referred to Kayla as her husband had the lieutenants in the Army. Her remarks about yesterday’s little bust were nothing more than roundabout inquiries as to what Kayla had been doing working on her day off without her partner. Which also meant that Jim and Shirley had talked. The two considered her their errant cub that needed guidance as well as protection.

“You know how it goes,” Kayla offered nonchalantly, but there was nothing casual about the way she braced herself for facing her partner. He’d already said plenty on the phone. He’d no doubt saved his best disciplinary remarks for this morning when they would be face-to-face.

In reality Kayla outranked Jim, but he’d been in this business twenty years longer than her so to his way of thinking, he was senior.

Couldn’t argue that. Most of the time, anyway.

“Good morning, Jim,” she said, all smiles and as chipper as hell as she strode into their office. If he wanted a fight he’d have to start it.

He growled something that resembled “morning”, then folded his newspaper into a wadlike mass and tossed it aside.

“So tell me again how you got this anonymous tip.”

Kayla sat down at the desk that faced her partner’s. She propped her feet on the edge and crossed them at the ankles, then took a long swallow from her coffee. Might as well let him stew another few seconds. She swallowed and made a contented sound in her throat. Jim’s left eyebrow arched, indicating his patience had reached an end.

Eventually she shrugged. “I was at home minding my own business and the phone rang. End of story.” The statement sounded like a truly bad lie but it was the God’s truth. She understood that it was unusual. But a good cop took tips anywhere she could get them. They didn’t always pan out but this one had.

His elbows propped on the arms of his chair, Jim steepled his fingers. “It didn’t cross your mind that the whole scenario went down a little too smoothly?”

“Sure it did.” She sipped her designer coffee blend. “I figure the snitch was someone the perp had pissed off. Somebody who wanted revenge.”

“Or maybe someone who wanted to throw the cops off his own scent.”

That had entered her mind as well. “It’s possible.”

“Investigator Devon says one of the guys is trying to cop a plea. He wants immunity for what he knows.”

Kayla sat up, her county-issue shoes slapping against the tile floor. “Does he have anything that important?”

Jim kept his expression closed but Kayla didn’t miss the flicker of a smile around one corner of his mouth. “He says he can give us the number one player, who deals not only in bikes but cars.”

Now that would be a major coup. “We should go down and see what he has to say.” Anticipation bubbled like an uncorked bottle of champagne.

Jim shook his head and held up one hand. “Can’t do that. Devon doesn’t want us anywhere near this guy. Apparently the perp’s still a little ticked off that you shot him. Even threatened to sue for excessive force.”

Kayla swore. “It wasn’t like I was aiming for his artery. I was just trying to keep him from running. If I’d wanted him dead I would have aimed a few feet higher.”

“He could walk,” Jim said, his tone as well as his expression solemn. “If he rolls over on a player that big, he could walk.” His gaze leveled on hers. “There’s always the possibility that he’ll want to get even.”

Kayla absorbed the implications of that statement. In this line of work there was always that possibility. But it didn’t make the prospect any easier to deal with, especially not with a young daughter at home. “Is Devon going to keep us informed?” Investigator Steve Devon was generally very good about keeping the cops who made the collars up to speed, but this time could prove different.

“I’m sure he will.” Jim leaned forward, braced his arms on his desk. “Tell me how your friend Detective Hadden got involved.”

She’d known that one was coming. Even an old dog like Harkey could get jealous when someone invaded his territory. Kayla would need to tread carefully here. Yesterday she’d done what she had to do, and today she had to smooth her partner’s ruffled feathers. Jim would have done the same thing if the situation had been reversed. For that she felt no guilt.

The big difference between the two of them was that Jim would have found her yesterday. He wouldn’t have given up until he did. Maybe she hadn’t tried as hard as she should have to locate him. She’d wanted those guys. Wanted them bad. Had the fire burning in her belly to finally bring them down adversely affected her judgment?

Maybe she had stayed in this job too long. Gotten too cocky. Too self-assured. It happened to the best.

Just something else she’d have to consider. Her years at Athena Academy had planted the yearning for growth, for advancement, deep inside her. Maybe she was fooling herself by thinking she could be happy staying at this level any longer. When she considered the high-profile careers of her fellow Cassandras she had to admit that even Darcy’s self-made private investigations business and covert support of abused women took a big leap out of the box.

Was complacency Kayla’s real problem? Professionally as well as personally? She didn’t want to believe there was any truth to that theory, but could she risk being wrong? One glance at Jim’s expectant expression and she knew she’d better get him placated first.



The infirmary at Athena Academy looked deserted. Giving Nurse Betsy Stone grace, it was lunchtime. Still, Kayla had called and left a message. It seemed that Betsy Stone either never got her messages or chose to ignore them.

The latter fit more conveniently into Kayla’s profile of the woman. She was avoiding further questioning.

Kayla shuffled around the room and considered reviewing more of the files, but it felt like a monumental waste of time. For three months she had been using every opportunity to look into the files.

It wasn’t always easy. Not that Christine or the school hadn’t cooperated. To the contrary, Christine had pretty much given Kayla carte blanche. But it took time to go through decades of files. Thousands of young women had passed through these walls. There were only so many chances within a given week. Kayla did have a job and a daughter, both of which had to come first.

Still, she had spent several hours each week during the past three months reviewing and analyzing data. And what had she learned? Not much.

Rainy had been an outstanding student. Physically, she had been an excellent candidate, if one were looking for a good specimen on which to experiment. But why here? Who was responsible for allowing it to happen?

The first question was a no-brainer. Here, because attendees of Athena Academy were the cream of the cream of the crop. The second question needed answering.

The invitation Jazz had received in the mail flashed through her mind. Definitely she would not rest until she had solved this puzzle.

According to Cleo Patra, the one surrogate they had located alive in the investigation, she had been under Dr. Reagan’s care in Phoenix. According to what Kayla had learned so far, Reagan was indeed dead. His files were who knows where. Kayla desperately wanted to find those files. She had a feeling that answers lay within those medical notes.

And what of this Lab 33? Did Josie or her sister, Diana, who was in Army Intelligence, dare look more deeply into that aspect? That kind of digging could get them killed. There were elements, government-sponsored ones, that were never supposed to be exposed. Shadow and black-bag operations.

Kayla huffed out a breath and admitted defeat. She had no alternative except to go to the files room and take up where she’d left off. It was all she had at this point. Somewhere in those files there had to be something. All she needed was one little lead and maybe it would take her the distance. Rainy couldn’t have been the only one taken advantage of.

The hour she’d given herself to devote to the case had flown by when a sound jerked Kayla’s attention from the mound of manila folders. Someone had entered the infirmary.

She hoped Nurse Stone had returned from lunch or some errand. She could let Jim know she needed a few more minutes if she got the chance to grill Stone again. The idea that Betsy Stone could have left for vacation since Athena was closed for December pinged her thoughts.

“Kayla, here you are.”

Christine Evans. Principal and friend. A friend with secrets, however.

Kayla relaxed from her alert status. “Looking through a few more files.”

Christine nodded but didn’t meet Kayla’s gaze. “Have you spoken with Betsy?”

It was more the way she asked the question than the question itself. Like Betsy Stone, Christine was hiding something. Kayla narrowed her gaze and scrutinized the woman. She had known Christine for many years. No one could ask for a better school principal. As headmistress of Athena Academy since its inception more than twenty years ago, Christine had devoted herself completely to the school and its students.

What could she possibly be hiding?

“No,” Kayla said in answer to her question. “She always seems to be out of pocket when I come looking for her.”

Christine’s gaze did meet hers then. “Kayla, you must know how busy Nurse Stone is when the students are on campus. One nurse with two hundred adolescent girls. Surely you remember.”

Kayla nodded, acknowledging the point. “But what about now?” The girls were gone for winter break. “Why is it I can never nail her down now?”

Christine shrugged, her gaze scooting away once more. “There’s a lot of catching up to do at the end of a session. Just ask any of the teachers or other staff members.”

“She hasn’t left town as far as you know?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why don’t I make it a point to have her call you?” The smile that made an appearance didn’t reach the principal’s eyes.

“Sure, why not?” Kayla started to leave the issue at that but the need to learn the truth wouldn’t let her. “Christine, do you think what happened to Rainy had anything to do with Dr. Bradford?”

Christine paled as she usually did whenever the subject of Rainy came up.

“I don’t see how it could.”

Kayla drew in a deep breath and released it as she settled onto the edge of Nurse Stone’s cluttered desk. “You told me that the two of you had parted ways on a sour note.” Kayla’s brow furrowed as if she’d lapsed into deep concentration. “I believe you said that he was harassing Nurse Stone and that you recommended he not be called back as a guest lecturer.” Athena Academy searched far and wide for ways to broaden the student learning experience. Guest lecturers from around the world were a regular feature of the curriculum.

“That’s correct,” Christine allowed, her tone, her entire demeanor closed, guarded. “When Nurse Stone reported to me that Dr. Bradford had behaved inappropriately toward her, I immediately sought action to see that he never returned.”

“If he behaved inappropriately toward a staff member, how can you be certain he didn’t do the same with students?” The notion made Kayla shiver with revulsion.

“Of course he didn’t harass any of the students!”

There was the reaction. Christine was incensed. Offended even.

“But his behavior wasn’t above reproach,” Kayla cut in. “Why else would you have asked that he not be allowed to return?”

For several seconds they stared at each other. Silent. Kayla was certain there was more. Then Christine broke. Vulnerability flashed in her good eye.

“All right.”

Christine turned away, clearly unable to look at Kayla as she uttered whatever confession she was about to make. “I wasn’t completely honest with you before, Kayla.” She spread her hands in defeat. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

Kayla pushed off the desk and went to her. Whatever she had to say it wasn’t going to be easy. She needed to know that Kayla was only trying to help.

“Just tell me the truth, Christine,” she said gently as she placed one hand on her arm. “I know you. Whatever it is it couldn’t have been your fault.”

Christine’s head came up, her suspiciously bright gaze collided with Kayla’s. “Well…yes it was. What happened to Rainy may have been entirely due to my foolishness.”

The earth shifted slightly beneath Kayla but she held herself steady, kept her touch light. “Tell me what happened.” It was all she could do to keep the shock out of her voice.

“Carl Bradford and I had an affair.” She closed her eyes and visibly fought to control her emotions. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. But I felt so alone. Changing careers, in charge of this whole, new school…I needed someone. He was a handsome man.” Her eyes opened, sought Kayla’s. “He knew all the right things to say and do to make me feel like a woman.”

Kayla nodded, genuinely understanding. Though she’d been much younger than Christine and her motives had clearly been different, she did understand. Hadn’t she sought solace in the arms of the man who’d fathered her child?

“Bradford never harassed Betsy. That was the story I told the board to save face. I caught them together one night.” She shook her head, her features going hard. “I’d been so stupid. We argued. I told him he could never come back.”

So Betsy Stone had been involved with Bradford. Yet she’d gone along with Christine’s story, saying he’d made a sexual move on her and she’d reported it to the principal to ensure he was sent away.

“I was jealous,” Christine admitted. “At that moment the only interest I had on my mind was my own.”

Kayla squeezed her arm reassuringly. “You made a mistake. We all do.” She, of all people, knew.

Christine was shaking her head again. “You don’t understand. Before I found them together, I had caught him going through the files. He said he was pulling together some information on the brightest students to use in a statistical paper about private schools.” She pressed her hands to her face, looking nothing like the tough former Army officer and strict taskmaster Kayla knew her to be. “I should have known better. I should have told someone.” She lifted her tear-filled gaze to Kayla’s. “What if I let this happen to Rainy? What if that’s what Bradford was looking for? An egg-mining candidate? Dear God!”

Kayla turned this new angle over in her mind. As much as Kayla didn’t want Christine to shoulder this burden alone, she suspected that Christine was right on at least one score. Bradford had been looking for something. Was he connected to Dr. Reagan? Like Reagan, Bradford had once run his own private practice in Phoenix, but it had closed years ago. And no one knew where Bradford had gone. But she damn sure intended to nail down Betsy Stone. She was the only link they had to Reagan and Bradford, whether she admitted knowing about any unethical dealings or not.

“Christine.” Kayla drew back, held the woman firmly by the shoulders. “I have to talk to Betsy. She may very well know what Bradford was doing and who he was working with.”

Christine nodded. “I understand.” She let go a shaky breath. “The way I see it, we’re going to have to trap her into a meeting.” Christine’s watery gaze leveled on Kayla’s. “I’ll help you. I’ll do anything you need me to do.”

Christine told Kayla what she could about Betsy Stone’s schedule. Betsy might not know anything that would help, but one way or another Kayla intended to find out.

When she would have left, Christine stopped her. “Kayla, I know you must have gotten Jazz’s invitation by now.”

Kayla turned back to her, unprepared to discuss the matter just now. “I did.”

Christine’s hands knotted together in front of her. “Whatever my past sins,” she urged, “please don’t hold them against this school. Jazz deserves this opportunity the same way you did. You know what attendance at this school could mean for her future.”

Kayla managed a smile. “We’re going to talk about it.”

As Kayla left the Athena campus she wouldn’t allow herself to consider that Jazz’s invitation might be a prod for her to leave this investigation alone. No way. This school was too important to too many powerful people. They would never invite a student for any reason other than a legitimate one. Athena Academy wanted Jazz. There was no second-guessing that conclusion.

The only question that remained was if Kayla was ready for her daughter to take that kind of step.

Kayla called Shirley to let her know she’d decided to stop at home for a sandwich before heading back to the office. The morning had been long and emotionally draining. Kayla wanted to recharge before dealing with the afternoon.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

The red SUV sitting against the curb between her house and the next didn’t give her much of a pause on first glance. But when she parked in her driveway she saw that someone waited for her on her front steps.

It only took one look for her to recognize her unexpected visitor.

Mike Bridges.

Jazz’s father.




Chapter 4


Kayla couldn’t move. She sat in her Jeep, staring at the man who’d broken her young, foolish heart more than a decade before. She hadn’t seen him since.

Why was he here?

Her heart started to pound like a drum.

Jazz.

He was here to see his daughter.

Josie had warned her that he was asking about Jazz. She had worked under Mike’s supervision recently, and when they’d figured out their mutual connection—after some very rocky circumstances that still incensed Kayla—Mike had asked Josie about Jazz. Somehow Kayla had thought he’d just go away, the same as he had all those years ago.

Clearly she’d been wrong.

He was here.

In the flesh.

Her hand shaking, she opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. Her legs felt suddenly rubbery.

Kayla swallowed hard and summoned her courage. Why was she letting him do this? He hadn’t even spoken yet, and already she felt afraid. Afraid of what he might say…what he might do.

No way.

Fury, mostly at herself, blasted like a furnace deep inside her. There was nothing for her to be afraid of. Jazz was her daughter. Mike had merely been the sperm donor. The few dollars he sent each month was a pittance, a pathetic attempt to assuage his conscience. He had no right to make her feel this way. No right at all. Especially after what he’d almost done to Josie.

“What do you want?” The words came out every bit as cold as she’d intended. He flinched. A rush of glee went through her. She couldn’t help it. She wanted him to suffer. Wanted him to feel just a smidgen of the uncertainty and fear she’d felt twelve years ago when she’d been young and pregnant and unmarried. And so afraid.

He pushed to his feet. Managed a smile, though it in no way resembled the high-wattage charmers she remembered. “I apologize for showing up unannounced, Kayla.” He shrugged those broad shoulders. “I thought if I called to let you know I was coming you wouldn’t be home. I didn’t know what shift you worked, so I decided to wait around until you showed.”

She planted her hands on her hips and told him the truth. “You figured right. Look at it from my side, Bridges. Why would I want to see you?”

He nodded once, the move was jerky but humble all the same. It just didn’t mesh with his personality, but then time changed people. Had Mike Bridges really changed? Josie had told her about the trouble she’d had with him. That he would make a pass at one of his female subordinates like that—almost getting her kicked out of the Air Force in the process—indicated to Kayla that he hadn’t changed at all.

“I guess Lockworth told you about our run-in,” he suggested, evidently recognizing the disgusted look in Kayla’s eyes.

“She did.” Kayla felt absolutely no sympathy for his having lost his command. According to Josie he’d been transferred from Palmdale, California, to Nellis Air Force Base over in Nevada. Chances of him being promoted beyond major after that fiasco were about nil. Could he have finally learned his lesson?

Kayla wasn’t about to wager Jazz’s feelings on the probability. Not with his record.

Mike looked away.

As much as she didn’t want to, Kayla couldn’t help studying his features. He hadn’t changed that much. Had a bit of a leaner edge about his profile. More manly, less boyish. His hair was still thick and dark, his eyes that mischievous hazel she saw in her child’s every single day. He looked comfortable in his civilian attire, jeans and a simple gray T-shirt with the Air Force logo emblazoned across his chest. The bomber jacket was well-worn leather and suited his Top Gun image. There was no denying that Mike Bridges was a handsome man. He just didn’t understand the meaning of responsibility and commitment.





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