“Your report said her apartment was broken into with no signs of a breach in her security system?”

“None I could find,” Alex agreed.

“Hmm. Thought you were good at that stuff.”

“So did I.” Alex grunted as he followed Timothy through the apartment.

There were two bedrooms, two baths, closets in each room and the bathrooms, and a hall closet for linen and towels that Janey never used because she never had guests stay overnight. Living room, kitchen, pantry closet. Timothy checked it all, then turned and paced back to the hallway, scratching his grizzled cheek.

“What do you see, Timothy?” Alex knew him. He’d worked with Timothy for ten years now; in the past years his team had been under exclusive DHS authority, and Timothy was the primary agent he worked with.

“Doesn’t work out,” Timothy muttered.

“What doesn’t work out?” Alex shifted his shoulder, trying to relieve the ache in it. The nails had gone deep, and Alex had felt the wounds breaking open and bleeding throughout the afternoon.

He moved back to the closet at the end of the hall, slapped the back, and frowned. The wall was solid.

He stepped into Janey’s bedroom, looked around, then went to the guest bedroom, looked around it.

Alex looked but couldn’t see whatever it was Timothy was looking for.

“You think there’s an entrance to the restaurant below?” Alex asked.

Timothy counted steps across the bedroom, along the width of it. He moved back to Janey’s bedroom and into the bathroom. The bathroom was on the other side of the closet.

He was frowning as he moved back to the hall, stared at the closet again. “Four feet difference.”

“How the hell do you know this shit?” Alex growled. “I don’t see it.”

Timothy shrugged. “You’re not trained to see it the way I am. You haven’t had to rip out walls and dismantle homes to find them. Question is, where is our door?”

The bedrooms weren’t even. The guest room door was close to the closet, while Janey’s bedroom door was closer to the living room. The bathroom to the guest room had another door from the hall into the bathroom as well as one into the guest bedroom.

Timothy ran his hands over the wall, tapped and knocked, listened. It all sounded solid to Alex. He and Natches both had checked the walls the same way just after the break-in.

“Bathroom,” Timothy spoke more to himself. “It has to be in the bathroom.”

Alex was in complete bafflement as he followed Timothy back to Janey’s bathroom. The other man tapped, listened, pressed, and moved until he was squeezing himself into the narrow space between the wall and the claw-foot bathtub. And there he found it. He tapped the wall, pressed down on one of the tub’s clawed feet, and Alex watched as the end of the bathtub slid to the side and the entrance in the floor slid seamlessly open.

“Damned ingenious.” Timothy stood staring at the narrow staircase that led downstairs. “It goes straight down. Think and tell me where this will end.”

Alex moved to gaze into the darkened interior. “The other side of the restaurant, away from the office.

The banquet room. Janey’s been wanting to open it for seating.”

“Anyone fighting her over it?” Timothy asked him quietly.

“Tabitha, one of the young waitresses. She works as hostess when Janey’s dealing with other things.”

“Not her.” Timothy shook his head. “Tabitha Cooke is a kid. A little flighty, low grades but social. She doesn’t have the intelligence. Anyone else?”

Alex shook his head. He bet Timothy had files on every damned citizen in the county memorized from the investigations he had run in the past two years.

“Everyone else seems excited by the prospect,” Alex told him. “Why didn’t I find this? Natches and I both went over this room and the other bedroom.”

“Some of the ways they do it would amaze you.” Timothy shook his balding head as he backed away and slid the tub back in place. “There’s a locking lever on the foot of the tub.” He pressed it with his foot.

“Not easy to accidentally activate. I saw something similar at another place. The whole shower stall slid out like this. This one just slides around, leaving all the pipes intact. Very good.”

“Someone had access to her all along.” Alex could feel the adrenaline racing through him now, fury igniting in his head. “Son of a bitch, it’s a wonder they didn’t kill her in her sleep.”

Timothy shrugged, the wrinkled sleeves of his gray suit jacket shifting around him.

“Stalkers are odd creatures,” Timothy said. “From the report the sheriff sent me, it’s only started escalating since you showed up. The pictures, this attack. Natches told the sheriff the stalker was upset, crying, because you were, ummm, getting a little nasty. She was corrupting you. Making you unnatural.”

Timothy’s brows wagged. “Really, Alex. Anal sex?”

Alex refused to blush. Dammit to hell. It was bad enough Zeke saw those pictures and knew just how fucking hot Janey was; having Timothy know was damned uncomfortable.

“Timothy, don’t make me murder you,” Alex sneered.

The special agent in charge of making Alex crazy snickered.

“Come on, let’s go see Natches and Chaya, then.” Timothy hitched the band of his pants and moved through the bathroom. “And let’s keep that little passageway our secret for the time being, at least until we’re away from the restaurant.”

Alex followed, more anxious to check on Janey than he was letting on. After letting Mark and Tyrell know they were heading to the restaurant, he and Timothy had left the apartment and were headed down the stairs when they heard Janey, obviously arguing.

“I don’t care if you do burn it to the ground. As long as it’s standing and open, I’ll do what the hell I want to do.”

“Are you trying to die?” Natches was leaning over her desk, his hands flat on the surface, tension filling the air as Janey held the identical stance, her hands on the desk, almost nose to nose with him.

“I’m not shutting down. If I shut down, I’ll never regain momentum. It doesn’t work that way.”

“You stay open and someone’s going to kill you.” Natches’s voice rose in anger as Chaya sat on the leather couch with her legs propped on the table, staring up at the ceiling as Alex followed Timothy into the office.

Chaya took one look at Timothy, lowered her jean-clad legs, and stared back at her former boss dismally. “Oh hell,” she muttered. “What are you doing here?”

Janey’s gaze jerked from her brother’s furious one to see Alex walk in behind a short, squat little man.

He looked like someone’s favorite uncle or grandpa. His face was lined, there were traces of sorrow in his eyes, and his thinning hair looked as though he ran worried fingers through it much too often.

The bright smile on his face was forced, and the mockery in his eyes was brittle, hiding things, she was certain, he didn’t want others to see.

“What the fuck do you want?” Natches snarled at the little man as Janey came from around her desk.

“Natches!” She stared at him, shocked. “That’s rude.”

The little man snickered. “Yeah, Natches, don’t be rude.”

On first hearing, the comment could have seemed snide, but Janey heard the underlying affection in his voice. She knew it, because she had heard the same tone in her own voice. It kept others off balance, at a distance.

“Chaya, Natches really needs to go home for his afternoon nap.” Janey smiled tightly at her brother.

“He’s getting cranky.”

Chaya’s laugh earned her a brooding look from her husband as she shook her head. “Don’t worry, Janey. Natches and Timothy don’t actually come to blows; they just threaten to.”

Alex moved over to Janey, and surprised her when, with a grin, he lowered his head and caught her lips in a quick kiss.

“Timothy, this is Natches’s sister, Janey. Janey, meet Special Investigative Agent Timothy Cranston from the Department of Homeland Security.”

“Hello, Mr. Cranston.” She gave him her hand to shake, and was not in the least surprised by the firm warmth of his handshake or the flicker of amusement in his gaze.

“Miss Mackay, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He nodded, then pulled back, rubbed his hands together with an air of glee, and looked at Alex and Natches. “We’re going to have fun, boys.”

Janey noticed that neither Alex nor Natches looked comfortable with that proclamation.

Natches ran his fingers through his hair in frustration before turning to Alex. “She won’t close the restaurant down,” he stated furiously as he shot her another glare. “I’m half-owner.”

“And you promised you’d be the silent half,” she muttered, moving behind her desk again. “Let it go.”

“Shutting the restaurant down is the wrong move.” Timothy shook his head, then turned to Alex. “Have you checked this room for the cameras as well?”

Alex nodded. “We found two cameras in the overhead vents. They were accomapanied by voice-activated recorders. It was simple, not as professional as the bomb, but effective.”

“Can I look around the restaurant?” Timothy turned to Janey.

“No.” Natches turned to Janey then. “Tell him to go home.”

Janey felt like rolling her eyes as she stood to her feet, thankful she was wearing comfortable clothes rather than the hostessing attire she usually had on by now.

“A quick tour.” She smiled at the other man. “Then I have to get dressed. The restaurant opens in less than three hours and I have a feeling we’re going to be packed.”

“We’ll just keep my investigative status between us if we meet anyone,” Timothy told her as he held out his elbow for her to take. “I must say, Ms. Mackay, I believe you may have gotten all the politeness and hospitality in your family. Natches can be a little cranky.”

“Yeah, like a five-year-old.” She shot Natches another glare as they moved to the door. “If we have time, we’ll stop in the kitchen. Desmond loves giving out samples of what he’s working on for the evening. Perhaps he’ll have time to fix you a quick lunch.”

Timothy’s smile was pleased, his gaze warming as he patted her hand while moving into the hallway with her. “I’d very much appreciate that, Ms. Mackay.”

“Janey.” She liked this little man. He had a charm and a flare that immediately put her at ease, and an underlying sadness and warmth that touched something inside her. “Please, call me Janey.”

Alex followed behind them silently, almost grinning as Natches and Chaya followed. Natches was pissed.

Alex glanced back at the other man, to see the dark, suspicious frown he leveled on Cranston’s back.

The Mackays butted heads with Timothy too often to see the almost pure genius behind the man’s maniacal façade. Alex had worked with him enough to understand it, respect it, and be very wary of it.

“So, this room isn’t used?” Timothy was walking around the banquet room after Janey had opened it, so innocently unaware that she had been maneuvered. “Why aren’t you using it?” He turned back to Janey with a curious look.

“Because my coowner refuses to authorize an ad for a general manager.” Janey crossed her arms over her embroidered shirt and glared at Natches. He grunted in reply.

Timothy tilted his head, rather like an inquisitive, eager hound, and regarded them both somberly. Alex held back his wince.

“He’ll change his mind,” Timothy promised her with an almost besotted smile. “I’ll discuss it with him, my dear.”

“Thank you.” Janey bestowed one of her sweet, perfect smiles. Alex’s dick hardened. Cranston blinked, and for a second, Alex saw the emotion in the other man’s eyes.