Rye dragged his hand over his mouth and chin and muttered deprecations to whoever had done this.

Brynn looked at the footprints, one set of which was noticeably larger than the other. “No signs of a struggle. Nothing taken. What possible motive would anyone have had to just walk in here and do this?”

Rye didn’t answer, but he was sure of one thing. Whoever had done that trick with the laser on him had also done this. No way in hell could the two incidents have occurred in an otherwise sleepy mountain town, within minutes and a mile of each other, and not be connected.

“The 911 operator knows the family,” Brynn said. “She’s going to notify Mrs. White herself. She also sent two deputies to their house.”

Rye’s gaze remained fixed on the family photograph on the desk. Deep inside him a vengeful anger began simmering on behalf of Brady White and his family. On behalf of Dash, too. He loved that beat-up old 182, just like he had loved that beat-up old cat.

But as soon as those vindictive thoughts began edging their way into Rye’s mind, he cautioned himself against letting them lodge there. It wasn’t up to him to get payback for the wrong done to the Whites, or to Dash, or to anybody. He sternly reminded himself that he was responsible only to and for himself.

Ah, but there was the hitch. He’d also been victimized by these fuckers. They had to be made to answer for trying to crash him. He was in this damn thing whether he wanted to be or not.

Feeling the pressure of obligation settling over him, he pushed his fingers through his hair, then ran his hand around the back of his neck where tension was already collecting.

“One of the deputies will stay with the Whites’ children.” Brynn had continued talking, unaware of the turbulent nature of his thoughts. “The other deputy will drive Mrs. White to the hospital.”

Only half hearing her, Rye murmured, “My worst nightmare.”

She looked at him with surprise. “Hospitals?”

Absently, he shook his head. “Involvement.”

Chapter 5

2:41 a.m.

Delores Parker Hunt entered the master bedroom and was dismayed to find her husband lying on the bed outside the covers, dressed except for his shoes. There was a pillow beneath his head, but he was wide awake.

As she approached him, she said, “I envy your ability to relax.”

“Relax? Hardly. I only yielded the pacing contest to you. You were doing enough for both of us, wearing a path in the carpet while wearing me out just watching you.”

Nudging his hip with hers, she sat down on the edge of the bed. “This should rejuvenate you. Goliad called a few minutes ago.”

“Why you and not me?”

“He did call you. You left your phone in the sitting room. I took the liberty of answering it, knowing you would want to hear the latest right away.”

“Well?”

She clasped his hand and squeezed it. “The package arrived. Fog or no fog, we’ll receive it well ahead of the deadline.”

His expression remained fixed, but his relief was evidenced by a long exhale through his nose. Only she would have detected that giveaway.

“The doctor took delivery,” she continued. “Goliad is there to make certain she returns to Atlanta with it immediately.”

Despite her parting shot to Goliad, she had no intention of telling Richard about the plane crash, the pilot, et cetera. These unanticipated bothers would only anger him, and she was angry enough for both of them. Seeing that he was about to say or ask something, she laid her index finger vertically against his lips. “Don’t worry.”

“Why would I worry? What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’ll ignore your sarcasm, if you’ll entrust me to take care of everything as you asked me to.” She laid her hand on his chest and leaned down until their faces were close. “You know I’m up to the task. I would move heaven and earth.”

“I don’t doubt it for a moment. On my behalf, you’ve already made a pact with the devil.”

“No,” she said, stretching out the word, “I gave God the night off.”

He gave her an arch look. “Del, only you would speak so cavalierly about taking over for the Almighty.”

“Only I. And you.”

Laughing, he said, “True enough.” He reached up and tangled his fingers in her well-maintained, streaked blond hair. “My lioness.”

“You had better believe it, mister.” She pulled his hand to her mouth, growled against his palm, then nipped it with her teeth. “Claws, sharp teeth, and all.”

Five minutes after being introduced to the handsome, charming, and recently divorced Richard Hunt at a charity gala, Delores had resolved to become the second Mrs. Hunt. By the end of the evening, she had abandoned her date and engaged in hot and urgent sex with Richard in the hotel elevator.

Six months to the day of that memorable evening, they were honeymooning in the Seychelles. Every day since, Delores had devoted herself to being his fiercest advocate, adoring wife, and ardent lover. He loved and trusted her above anyone else, and she made damn sure he continued to.

“I can retract my claws long enough to give you a back rub.”

“Not now.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders. “You’re tense. I feel it.”

“Of course I’m tense. There’s a lot at stake here. For both of us, but especially for me.”

“I don’t dispute that, Richard.”

A vertical line appeared between his thick brows, which were threaded with gray. She smoothed it with her fingertip, but she doubted he even felt it. His mind was elsewhere. “As soon as you get an ETA from Goliad, I want to know.”

“Naturally.”

“What’s the new man’s name?”

“Tommy? Timmy? Something like that.”

“He’s qualified for this type of work?”

“Goliad says he’s overqualified.”

“That could be either good or bad. I don’t like having a man on the payroll that I haven’t vetted myself.” He was about to get up when she planted her hand against his chest and pressed him back against the supporting pillows.

“You conceded the pacing contest to me, remember?”

He resisted, but then he relented and stayed on the bed.

“The rest will do you good,” she said.

“I won’t rest until this is over.” In thought, he pulled on his lower lip. “Goliad shouldn’t have broken in a rookie on an errand this important. He should have taken someone he knew he could rely on.”

“Actually, Timmy was a smart choice.”

Richard gave her a sharp look.

“His tenure with us is short. Although I don’t predict that anything will go wrong, if something should, we can lay the blame on the new guy who obviously didn’t appreciate or adhere to our rigid standards.”

After a moment’s consideration, Richard gave her a canny smile. “Leaving us off the hook.” She gave him a look of prim satisfaction that made his smile widen. “Sometimes I think we share the same brain, Del.”

“A lot of you has rubbed off on me in the past fifteen years.”

“Sixteen last month, remember? You should.” He slipped his finger beneath the platinum chain at the base of her neck. “You’re wearing your anniversary gift.”

A ten-carat diamond glittered against his finger. No less brilliant were the tears that welled in her eyes. “You are my gift, Richard. You.” She kissed his lips tenderly, then left the bed and started for the door.

“Please bring me my phone.”

“I will when Goliad calls. In the meantime, take advantage of this downtime. I’ll fret for both of us.”

As soon as she had cleared the door and closed it softly behind her, she blinked back the recent tears and gave vent to supreme irritation. She checked the Cartier watch strapped to her wrist and cursed under her breath.

What was keeping Goliad from calling?

He had already been working for Richard when Delores entered the picture. The story was that Richard had found himself in need of a man to do his dirty work while keeping his own hands clean. After doing due diligence, Richard had pulled a young and hostile Goliad out of a court-mandated drug rehab program and made him an offer: If he got clean, and stayed clean, he would live lavishly and get paid handsomely to do what he’d been doing before, which, basically, amounted to being a thug.

Following their marriage, Goliad’s loyalty to Richard had expanded to include her. He had never failed to do everything he was told to do, no matter how unsavory or illegal. But he was human, and therefore fallible, and, as Richard had alluded, this endeavor was fraught with possibilities for error.

To a compulsive planner like Delores, even an nth degree of uncertainty was untenable. Once a decision was made, she acted on it. No second-guessing was allowed, and she was relentless.