

THAT NIGHT, on his way to the Baxters' for the first debrief, Riley felt pretty damn good. Chloe was doing her job, despite her misgivings. She'd already reported on a suspicious-sounding spreadsheet and scored him a meet with Enzo and Sal and other possible suspects at a dinner. His lieutenant was pleased to see movement already. That was crucial. Max and his squad would pick up what slack they could on Riley's cases, but if the Sylvestri situation stagnated, Riley would be yanked off fast.
He was proud of Chloe for jumping in with both feet. She was an honorable person. If she could shake free of mobsters and loser relations, she had a chance at a decent life.
Idle woofed, drawing his attention. The dog sat straight up to watch the road, as if he knew where they were headed. Idle seemed fully recovered, but Riley wanted to keep an eye on him. Plus the dog would cheer Chloe, maybe make her feel better about her informant duties.
The sky spit drizzle and he drove too fast for the wet streets. He plain wanted to see her. He liked the grave way she looked him over and the way his name sounded in her husky voice. Maybe she'd even cook for him. Too much? Probably. All he knew was that he was practically wiggling in his seat the way Idle did at the crinkle of the kibble bag.
Like a kid. Like a fool. Maybe both.
Her dad would be there, which was good. A chaperone would keep Riley from getting distracted by how tempting Chloe could be.
She answered his knock wearing something soft and short and pretty, but she looked troubled and pale. "You brought Idle?" she asked faintly, leaning down, absently petting him.
"I thought you'd like to see he was okay."
"We have to talk," she said, backing into the room, inviting him in. "This won't work."
"What won't?" Then he saw Mickey Baxter lying on the sofa, an ice bag on his leg and one on the back of his head.
"My father's hurt. All because of this stupid case."
Mickey sat up. "I'm fine, Chloe. I lost my balance and got a couple bruises, that's all."
"Lie down, Dad," she said, turning on Riley. "I walked in the house to find him groaning on the floor. He got dizzy on a ladder and fell and now he's hurt. He can't possibly go back."
"It's a goose egg on the back of my head and a bruise on my shin. Nothing, like I said."
"It's the leg that got shot. The weak one. Don't minimize."
"What were you doing on a ladder?" Riley asked.
"I was fixing something to eat and noticed the light burned out. I climbed up and got woozy. I can work, Detective."
"He's too worried to eat, so of course he'll get dizzy. His blood sugar is all over the place, no doubt. He passed out. You know you're worried. Sal is after you to drive again."
"He said down the line, Chloe. I made a deal. This has to be. I'll help the case this way."
"I don't care about any deal," she snapped, her expression fierce. "Your fall was a warning. I won't risk your health or your life. I'll tell Enzo you got hurt. He can get someone else like when you had the flu last year."
"Talk to her, would you?" Mickey said to Riley. "She's just scared. She's trying to protect me."
Idle whined piteously from the door. "Looks like he needs a break," Riley said. "How about we take him for a walk?" He looked at Chloe, who was trembling, angry and irrational. A change of scenery, motion and fresh air could only help.
"It won't do any good," she said. But when Idle rushed over to nose her leg, she softened. "All right, I guess."
The drizzle had stopped and the air was clear as they set off down the block, Chloe moving fast, as if to escape him. Idle galloped beside her, looking up at her in worship as he ran.
When the lure of a tree stopped him, Chloe paused and Riley moved in front of her. "You okay?" he asked, taking her by the arms, hoping to soothe her a bit.
She looked up at him, calmer, but determined. "He'll blow the case, you know. The man passed out and fell off a ladder on the first day, for God's sake. He's too worked up to eat. He can't keep a secret and he wants to please everyone. Who knows what he'll say to Sal---"
"We need him," Riley said. "He's our connection to Sal."
"Not necessarily," she said, stepping away from him. "Here's what I figured out. Sal likes me. I talked to him today, asked him to look at my car. He said he'd do it and he wants to take me to dinner after, so I can---"
"Minetti hit on you?" That SOB.
"It's no big deal." She shrugged. "He flirts with anything in a skirt. The point is he likes me and I can use that."
"I'm sure he does, but you're not going anywhere with that guy. Way too dangerous." The creep would be all over her.
"I can handle Sal. Don't worry about that. He's harmless."
The woman was hopelessly naive. "You think you'll bat your eyes at him and he'll confess his crimes?"
"He loves to brag, so why not? It's something. A way in."
"Stay away from Minetti, Chloe."
"I can't. Not if it will help my dad," she said, chin jutted at him, inviting a fight. "My dad is no good to you and you need someone who can bluff and lie and pretend."
"You think that's you? Your face shows every emotion in neon lights, Chloe."
"I'm better than my father. Even you can see that."
She had a point. The man was a wild card. He could foul things up with Minetti just as she'd said. What was worse was his effect on Chloe, who was so panicked it would show, too.
Riley had to calm her down somehow. Idle had turned toward home so they followed him. Riley thought about Mickey lying on the sofa, leg propped up because of some bruise. What if his leg was worse? What if he were out of commission?
Riley chewed over the risks, options and gains like Idle with a bone as they walked. A block from the house he turned to Chloe. "Here's what I'm thinking. Let's say your dad did more than bruise his shin. Say he broke his leg and can't drive for a while. You said Enzo got a fill-in when Mickey was sick?"
"Yeah. He called a service."
"What if we offer him someone instead?"
"Who?"
"Me. I'm your boyfriend, right, so tell Enzo I lost my job. Say I was driving a truck...yeah...and that I need the money."
"You'd take over for my father? That would be great!"
"That's what I'm thinking. We'll have to work out the details, get the timing down, but it's worth a try, since you're worried about his health."
"Thank you so much, Riley. I knew you'd understand. This is so much better." The relief in her face set off a warm reaction in him. Maybe the plan had flaws, but it made Chloe feel better and that was enough for him right now.
Somehow he'd make it work.
"So tomorrow morning I'll tell Enzo Dad got hurt, right?" Chloe said. He could see her mind was racing with the steps to come. "Then tell him I figured out how to fix it---with you."
"He could say no, you know."
"Not if it's important to me. He loves to help people. Then you can meet him at the dinner that night. This will work."
"We'll see." The situation was more than a little fluid. "Your father might not cooperate. He sounded set on sticking."
"If you tell him it's best for the case, he'll do it, I know. I appreciate this so much." She lunged forward to throw her arms around him. The contact startled him. He wasn't able to brace against his body's response to her closeness.
Her gaze jerked to his, her eyes bright with awareness. In the cool of the spring night, he wanted her with a white-hot burn. He wanted to make love to her, to make the case disappear for a few blessed hours. Impossible, he knew, but deep inside, a primal voice said, Just hang on. It'll happen.
Chloe retreated, her eyes darting, afraid to see what he wanted, to acknowledge her matching response. Silently, breathing in sync, they finished the walk.
Chloe was correct about Mickey. Riley laid out the plan and Mickey dropped his objections like a bad hand, mutely agreeing to Riley's stipulations---he would stay home unless he had a ride and maintain the illusion of his injury with a splint and crutches. There was something he wasn't saying, Riley could tell, possibly in deference to Chloe. After they'd finished, Mickey limped to bed.
Riley looked at Chloe beside him on the sofa. She looked drawn and pale with exhaustion. "I'll let you get some sleep," he said, patting her leg. "We've got a big day ahead of us."
"I'm too wound up." She leaned her head back, her face turned to him. "Can I fix you something to eat? Make you coffee?" She wanted him to stay.
"Coffee's the last thing you need if you can't sleep."
"There's no scotch in the house." She sighed. Idle, on the floor by their feet, sighed, too, which made them both smile.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, thinking he could help.
"The details, I guess. What I'll say to Enzo. If my dad will be okay sitting at home. I'll line up rides to AA for him."
"Can't he get his own rides?"
She frowned.
"You said you do too much for him. Maybe if you didn't always jump to his rescue, he'd stand on his own two feet."
Her eyes sparked, her chin lifted and she opened her mouth to argue with him, then she slumped. "Forget it. I'm too tired to fight about this again."
"I didn't mean to upset you. Hell, I'm no good at this." He was supposed to be making her feel better. "Let's talk about something else. How did your cooking day go?"
"Good." She managed a weary smile at the memory, then told him how she'd coaxed the kids down for breakfast, coached the daughter on her diet and how to manage her parents, and how grateful Natalie was for her help.
As she talked, energy returned to her face. She was so pretty---lively and smart and kind---and she smelled great. "Sounds like you're doing as much counseling as cooking."
"The Sylvestris are good parents, just too indulgent, I guess. Like I was with Clarissa. Sometimes an outsider view helps you see what you've missed."
"You'll be a good mother," he blurted to distract himself from angling for a kiss.
"I hope to be. When I get the rest of my life worked out. What about you? Do you want kids?"
"Me?" The question startled him. "I don't have the patience. I'm a lot like my dad. He wasn't much on affection."
"He loved you, though. You knew that, didn't you?"
"Every father loves his kids. Sure."
Though his father had been different than his friends' dads, who'd wrestled and joked with them, casual and easy. His dad had been reserved, keeping him at arm's length. "He kept a roof over our heads, food in our mouths, clothes on our backs and he came home every night." Until the night he didn't and nothing was right again. "The rest of it wasn't so important."
"Your dad might have been distant, but that doesn't mean you have to be. With me, you've been very warm."
"That's all you," he said. "The Chloe Effect." As if on cue, Idle got to his feet and dropped his chin on Chloe's lap, looking at her with soulful eyes. "Even Idle feels it."
Chloe laughed and her gaze met his, merry at first, then sparking like an ignition switch. "It's hard to be this close and not touch you," she said.
"Yeah," he said softly, shifting toward her. She turned to him, too, dislodging Idle who dropped to the floor. Riley pushed her hair from her cheek, ran his thumb along her jawline.
"I keep thinking about you inside me," she whispered, her eyes green fire. She kissed his palm, cupping it with her hands. Thunder rumbled outside. "Sounds like a storm. Maybe you shouldn't go out. Lightning might strike."
"I think it already has." He kissed her, unable to resist another moment, forgetting why this was wrong.
She kissed him back, getting into it, shifting her lips from side to side, moving her tongue everywhere at once. She straddled him, her skirt hiked high, pushing her chest against him, wriggling her panties against his cock through his pants. He couldn't stand much more, so he stilled her body and broke off the kiss. "What are we doing?"
"Celebrating my birthday again?" she said, too dazed to come up with a better argument, it seemed.
"Chloe..."
"We're done with the case for tonight. We need this. Don't fight it." She went after his zipper.
He grabbed her hand. "What about your father?"
"Way down the hall and he sleeps through anything." She had him out of his jeans then and he lost all coherent thought except that he wanted inside her and he wanted her skin against his. He tossed off her shirt, then his own. Before he could go after the rest of her clothes, she slid her panties aside, placed him at her entrance and lowered herself. He went deep.
"Oh." Her eyes flared with pleasure. "That feels so good, doesn't it?"
"Good...Yeah." He ground the syllable out, happy to be buried in her, buying every word she was selling.
"I feel so free with you. I never feel like this." She rocked up and down slowly, making little mews and gasps as if each inch held so much pleasure she couldn't bear it.
She was so beautiful above him, her skin pale as milk, her breasts pure art. He ran his hands down her ribs to her hips, guiding her movements, fighting the urge to explode inside her.
On the upstroke, she paused and thrust her breasts at him, so he took a knotted nipple into his mouth.
She shivered like Idle ridding himself of rain, holding herself above him.
Too far away. He grabbed her ass and hauled her down onto him. She gave him a dazed look that steadily cleared to determination as she pushed up, then down again and again, gaining deliberate speed. He was lost in the lushness of her body, in her fresh smell, in the raw urgency of her movements. He let her take the lead.
I never feel like this. Neither did he. He felt alive with her. He felt a secret hope spring open in him---that one day he could find one special someone and stick with her.
Chloe stilled and her eyes widened. "I'm there," she said, her entire body shaking with the force of her climax, which brought on his own. They clung to each other, rocking through the waves. When it was over, she tucked her face into his neck, trembling against his skin.
"You feel so good," he whispered. And right. Too good and too right.
"Don't be sorry," she said as if she'd read his mind. "Why can't we have this at night?"
"We talked about this."
"So what? We need this. This helps. Why else would it be happening? Is this how you usually act?"
He shook his head. "Never." He was different with her. Open, relaxed, unguarded. Free, as she said. That should scare him, but it didn't. He just held her tight and hoped to hell she was right.
THE NEXT MORNING, Chloe woke to her cell phone's ring, alone, she knew, since Riley had left at midnight, but still wrapped in the glow of lovemaking. It's him. He'd promised to check on her in the morning. She smiled and spoke into the phone. "Hello there," she said as sexily as she could.
"'S Riley. Need to touch base before you leave for work." His no-nonsense cop voice made her sit up straight in bed. No tender did you sleep okay? Or wish I could kiss you awake. Just the facts, ma'am, for Detective Connelly. She felt as if he'd tossed cold water in her face.
"Okay. Yeah." Get over it. This was what they'd agreed to---sex at night, the case by day. It had been her idea. She just wished he hadn't made the transition so easily.
"Did I wake you?" he asked as if he'd suddenly realized the possibility.
"No. No. I'm awake." Completely.
"Good. I left a camera, a recorder and a jump drive on your bureau." No love note. Just spyware. "Familiarize yourself with the functions. They're easy to use, but be certain."
"Will do."
"Grab shots of that spreadsheet you saw. Cell phone snaps if they're readable, since you can phone them to me. If you have to go with the camera, upload as soon as you can. Getting into their computer would be great. Also, I'd like a guest list for tonight, please, so I can run backgrounds on everyone. You'll alert me once you've offered me as a new driver for Enzo?"
"Sir, yes, sir." She couldn't help the sarcasm.
Riley was silent for a moment. "I don't mean to order you around. The sooner we nail these guys, the sooner this will all be over. We want to optimize our gains."
"Right. I get that. It's just that...last night---"
"We have to forget that." He sounded so flat, so far away.
"I just woke up. I need a minute to shift gears."
"Understandable." Like she needed forgiveness. Oooh, that burned her up. The reminder was good. They were so different. Riley buried his emotions and hers were all too accessible. In neon, he'd pointed out. Even without her father's troubles standing between them, daylight would douse the fire they shared at night every time.
A little more than an hour later, Chloe entered the Sylvestri house, quiet and dim in the early morning, geared up to tell Enzo about her father's injury when he came down for breakfast. Her heart was beating so fast she feared she might faint. Everything depended on how her speech went.
Except Enzo was gone. Natalie had left her a note saying that Enzo's sister Olivia had picked them up to attend a pancake breakfast at their great-aunt's assisted-living center. The pancakes are wretched, but there's hell to pay when we miss Family Day!
Damn. She'd have to wait to talk to Enzo. On the other hand, as soon as Ronnie and Charity left for school, she'd have the house to herself for a while.
As soon as she was sure the kids were gone, she slipped her cell phone and the digital camera into her pocket, grabbed a duster and furniture polish and headed for Enzo's office.
Fingers trembling, she unlocked the desk drawer, found the two-page list and snapped photos of the pages with both her cell phone and the digital, worried about what the police might learn about Enzo from this list he'd hid. Why? She trusted him, didn't she? Everyone had secrets. That didn't make them illegal. She hated how Riley made her doubt Enzo.
She looked through the files in the locked drawer first. Nothing suspicious. The labels on the hanging files were faded, the papers inside yellowed with age. Mostly receipts for home repairs, car purchases, invoices from kitchen supply and food distributors. She took lots of snaps all the same, just to prove to the police and FBI she'd done her part.
She flipped on the computer and while it booted, she photographed stuff on the desk, pulling papers from between junk mail and catalogs of fishing gear, boating and sports memorabilia. She wasn't sure how much time she had. Sweat trickled down her sides and her breath rasped in her ears. She stuck to it, knowing that the sooner she found nothing on Enzo, the sooner the police would stop suspecting him.
She was putting back the last stack of papers when she heard the front door open, then voices and footsteps. Adrenaline surged through her and she shoved the camera and phone in her pocket, grabbed her feather duster and ran for it. At the door, she remembered she'd left the computer on, so she dashed back.
Her finger was still on the mouse when Enzo walked through the door. "What are you doing in my lair?" he boomed, clearly joking, which filled her with relief and horrible guilt. The man would never suspect her of something as heinous as what she'd done.
She swiped the monitor with her duster, relieved that the computer had gone black. It had been password protected, so she couldn't be expected to get into it anyway.
"Don't bother to clean in here." He headed closer. "Natalie bitches about the mess, but I know where everything is."
She smiled, hoping her face didn't show the sweat and heat she felt. She glanced at the desk to be sure she'd restored the mess to its original arrangement.
"You get a look at my goodies?" he asked.
Horrified, she jerked her gaze to his face, but he was admiring glassed-in sports junk on a shelf. "V-very nice," she managed to say.
"I know. That one goes next week." He tapped the glass over a framed piece of newspaper with a signature on it. "Babe Ruth, DNA authenticated signature," he said. "Worth over two grand. Can you believe it?"
"That's good," she said.
"Keep this between us, though. We had an incident with a rip-off artist, so I told Nat I'd stay off eBay, but it's too good. Not as fun as gambling, but..." He shrugged.
"I won't say a word," she said. Noticing the feathers were trembling like her hands, she put the duster behind her back.
"So, your pop's not in the garage. What's he up to?"
"Dad? Oh!" She'd almost forgotten her mission for the morning. "I have to tell you. He fell off a ladder changing lightbulbs."
"You're kidding. Is he okay?"
She took a deep breath, calling up the story she'd prepared. "Not exactly. See, he broke his leg."
"Damn. That's a shame."
"It's not too bad. It's a hairline fracture, but the doctor wants him off his feet, so he can't drive for a while."
"Was it his bad leg?"
She nodded.
"Damn. The injury weakened the bone. I'm sorry."
"He hates to let you down, Enzo. He just hates it. He wanted to come in, no matter what the doctor said. There was only one way I could convince him. See, the guy I'm seeing---Riley---is between jobs. He's a truck driver, so he can fill in for Dad. What do you think?" She paused. "He needs the money." Too much? She held her breath.
"Riley? That the guy Natalie invited to dinner tonight?"
"Yes, that's him. Riley Connelly."
"You like him a lot?" Enzo tilted his head at her.
"I like him, sure." Birthday Riley, anyway. Detective Riley, not so much.
"He good enough for you? What does Mickey think?"
"He doesn't exactly know...."
Enzo's eyebrows lifted. "He's a secret? That's no good."
"It's just new, that's all."
"Introduce him to Mickey. As a father he should know. He wants to know. Trust me."
She nodded, but she had to get him back to the point. "So what do you think about hiring him?"
"This mean a lot to you?" Enzo studied her.
"It does." It meant her father's life.
"How about I meet him tonight? I'll see that he's a proper guy for you. If I approve, he can drive me around. How's that?"
"That's great. Thank you so much, Enzo." Relief whooshed through her.
"And tell Mickey I'm sorry about the leg. Especially that leg. Damn. He'll always have a job with us, tell him that."
"You've been so good to us," she said, choking up, her eyes stinging.
"Ah, don't do that," Enzo said, blinking. "You're a good daughter, Chloe." He squeezed her shoulder. "Wish you could rub off on my two."
"They're teenagers, Enzo. I'd better get back to work." She had to get away from the man's kindness. She ached with guilt.
"Natalie's upstairs burning treadmill rubber to make up for the two stacks of pancakes she ate---I'd hate to see how much she'd've eaten if they were good." He shook his head, clearly adoring Natalie, for all her inconsistencies.
As soon as Chloe had finished the dishes she'd abandoned in her hurry to snoop, she slipped into the pantry to text Riley that Enzo had okayed the job and to send the cell phone shots.
She was waiting for the photos to send when she heard Enzo's voice through the wall. He was in the laundry room, talking low. Why? For privacy, she guessed. Natalie was upstairs.
From where she stood, his voice was clear as a bell. She stood and listened, her heart banging her ribs.
"So, what are you saying, Mario?" Enzo sounded impatient. "But when? I've been waiting for this shipment for weeks.... It better be.... And no extra charges or any more trouble.... You know what to do, Mario. Do it."
She committed the conversation to memory. Who was Mario? And what was the shipment? Why had Enzo hidden in the laundry room to talk about it? Should she tell Riley?
Wait and see. It was probably something to do with the restaurant. She'd see what came of the papers she'd photographed first. That was enough for now.
AN HOUR BEFORE THE DINNER, Chloe pulled the three-cheese bread from the oven, grateful for the distraction of preparing the family dinner. Starters would be double-tomato bruschetta, sweet figs with savory prosciutto and an exotic cheese tray.
First course was cioppino---seafood stew---and a fresh-herb salad. The main course was osso buco with double-grilled garlic artichokes and mushroom risotto. For dessert, she'd made her special tropical tiramisu. She hoped the loving care she put into the meal would somehow make up for her betrayal.
She moved to the rec room to arrange imported beers in a giant bowl of ice and check the bar supplies. On the couch, Ronnie dozed over a textbook, iPod in his ears, TV blasting.
"Smells good in there," Enzo said, entering the room.
"Thanks," she said, but Enzo had spotted Ronnie and tugged the earphones from his son's ears. "This is how you study?"
"I'm tired, okay?" Ronnie rubbed his eyes.
"In the afternoon?"
"He was out with Sal until two in the morning," Charity said as she breezed in, going for a stack of magazines.
"Is that true?" Enzo demanded. When Ronnie shrugged, he added, "I don't want you partying with Sal on school nights."
"It wasn't that late," Ronnie said.
"And you're not wearing that to the table," he said to Charity, who wore a short white skirt and a nearly nude leotard.
"I'm going out later," she said.
"Not dressed like that, you're not."
Chloe wanted to leave the room, but Natalie stood in the doorway, blocking her escape. "All the girls dress that way," she said to her husband. "It's the latest look."
"Not my daughter."
Ronnie snickered, so Charity slugged him. "He scraped his car, too." She gave her brother a so-there look.
"Not again," Natalie said, lifting her arms in surrender.
"We have insurance," Ronnie muttered.
"The rates go through the roof when we use it," Enzo said.
"And I got an e-mail from your history teacher, Ronnie," Natalie said. "She says you sleep in her class."
"Everyone does when she blabs about her college days."
"You respect your teachers," Enzo said, getting angrier, "and you study. That's your job. If it's not enough work for you, you can bus tables at the restaurant."
"That pays shit."
"You're too good for honest labor? When I was your age I bussed tables, cleaned toilets, whatever I had to do."
"Not that story again."
"Out of my sight, both of you. Charity, dress decent for dinner. Ronnie, do your homework. And no TV or computer."
"I need the computer for my homework."
"Just go!"
The kids stomped off.
"That was too harsh," Natalie said to Enzo.
"How else can I be? You spoil them."
Chloe slipped from behind the bar and into the kitchen to stir the cioppino, but their voices carried. This was the last thing she wanted to eavesdrop on.
"I spoil them? You gave Ronnie a car even when his grades reeked. Charity holds out her hand and you put money in it."
"He needs a safe car and Charity needs lunch money. You let her starve herself."
"I talk to her at least. You hide out in your den. You see what you want to see, Enzo. You're inconsistent. You explode."
"You're the mother. You're supposed to know what to do."
"So it's my fault? That's so typical. I give up." Chloe heard footsteps and looked up as Natalie whipped by.
Enzo called after her. "Come on, Natalie. You're too sensitive." He entered the kitchen, stopping when he noticed Chloe. "Can I taste?" he asked.
She lifted a spoonful of the savory stew and he sipped.
"Incredible."
"It's coming together."
"You catch all that?" Enzo asked her, nodding toward the rec room. "How could you help it, eh? You think I'm a bull in a bakery?"
"Parenting is tough," she said.
"I'm too old for this. I tell myself not to react, but they push my buttons, those kids."
"That's how you know you're related. Kids act out to test you. My younger sister used to make me furious."
"So how did you handle it?"
"Tried to be patient. The books say to set expectations and consequences and stick to them."
"Don't tell me about books. I'd like one of those experts to try dealing with my kids in real time, not from an armchair."
"It's hard, I know."
"But you think Natalie's right...I spoil them?" His brown eyes connected with hers, demanded the truth.
"It's not for me to say."
"You must know something---you got them down for breakfast."
"It was the food, not me."
"Be that as it may, I'm glad you're here with us, Chloe. You're a good influence."
"I'm glad, too," she said, hating how every lovely moment was tainted by her secret.
"You don't sound glad, cupcake." He patted her shoulder. "You're doing fine. Hell, if I use your advice and it works, I'll have to pay you like a shrink."
"You pay me too much already."
"Do me this favor---next time I put my foot in my mouth with the kids, give me a sign, would you?" He pretended to cut his throat.
"If you really want that."
"I do. For now, I better go make nice with Nat. Got any marriage advice?"
"Me? Are you kidding?"
"You're wiser than your years." He gave her a hug, which made the camera stab her hip. The man loved her like a daughter and she'd treated him like a crook. She couldn't bear it. When the truth came out, she hoped no one she loved would get caught in the cross fire.


