‘Because you need to find those women. They can tell you who took Anders.’

‘Maybe. But the person who attacked you may be the one who took Anders. There’s something more going on here than we’re seeing. Too many unanswered questions and loose ends left flapping in the wind. I need answers, Marcus. You’ve been attacked three times today. If you’d been here when this guy forced his way in, you might be the one lying in there.’

He turned to give her a cold glare. ‘I should be. Phillip is innocent in all of this.’

‘I know Phillip is innocent,’ she said, gentling her voice. She still held onto his arm and now brushed her thumb over the fabric of his shirt to try to soothe him. It was all she could do with so many eyes watching. ‘But I’m allowed to be glad you’re not hurt. Now, we need to think this thing through. If someone’s been after you, why did they go after Phillip? Why not just wait for you to get home?’

‘Because Phillip stabbed him.’

‘I got that, and don’t worry. Sergeant Tanaka will do a thorough sweep of your place. If the shooter left anything behind, Tanaka will find it.’

‘Phillip said the guy wrapped his arm, left with the knife embedded in it. So no blood.’

‘Maybe not. But there’s still skin and hair. Tanaka is the best I’ve ever known. We’re going to let him do his job, okay?’

A stiff nod was her answer, and she squeezed his arm lightly again.

‘What I meant,’ she continued, ‘was why did he follow Phillip up? If he wanted you, why not simply wait till you came home?’

His stare never let up. ‘Maybe he wanted to force his way in to wait up here for me.’

‘Yeah, but . . .’ She shook her head. ‘He left a victim behind the desk, Marcus. He had to have known the guard would be discovered sooner versus later.’ She exhaled, suddenly understanding. ‘He was counting on the guard being discovered. He wanted you to come home. Wanted to draw you home.’

‘That’s how I see it,’ he said, his voice still cold and expressionless.

‘If we look at it that way, I can see how you think you were the target all three times.’ She sighed. ‘Let’s check the security tapes. See what they show. Until then, sit tight with BB. She might be our best lead.’

She stepped toward the door of the master bedroom, watching the medics work on Marcus’s friend as she dialed Isenberg. ‘It’s Scarlett.’

‘What’s going on at O’Bannion’s?’ Isenberg asked, foregoing a greeting as she often did.

Scarlett filled her in as Vince Tanaka came through the door with his toolbox filled with gadgets. He put it down and motioned that he was going to have a look around, so Scarlett stayed on the call with Lynda. ‘I need to follow this lead,’ she told her boss. ‘Can you get someone else to accompany my uncle to search for Mila and Erica Bautista? Zimmerman said he told you about finding the father and son, too. Maybe you can have them ready to talk over a speaker phone to Mila and Erica when you get close so that they don’t run away.’

‘That’s a good idea. I’ll ask Adam Kimble to accompany the searchers.’

Scarlett winced. ‘Is he ready?’ Having recently returned from a six-month leave of absence, Adam was looking calmer every day, but every so often Scarlett wondered about how much of his calm was real and how much was for show.

‘As ready as he’ll ever be,’ Lynda said in the tone that dared anyone to disagree.

Scarlett was not planning to take that dare, so she approached from a different angle. ‘Erica, the daughter, and John Paul, the son, are both minors. Perhaps it would be a good idea to have a therapist on hand to deal with any immediate issues they might have.’

A pregnant pause, then Lynda snorted. ‘Damn, Scarlett, you are good. Sure, let’s have a therapist there. If nothing else, it’s CYA, but they might be able to help. Who will you call?’

‘How about Meredith Fallon? She’s proven herself reliable and trustworthy.’ And Meredith had also shown an ability to calm Adam Kimble when he’d been agitated.

‘I like her. Call her. Is Vince there yet?’

‘Yes. He came in a minute ago.’

‘Good. Find this guy, Scarlett. Soon.’

The line went dead as Lynda ended the call, and a few moments later the paramedics wheeled Phillip out, an oxygen mask over his face. His eyes were closed, his skin far too gray.

‘County,’ one of the medics said before Scarlett could ask. ‘And yes, we’ll have them call you with updates. And yes, we have your cell number.’

‘Thank you,’ Marcus said, and one of the medics gave him a sympathetic nod before pushing the stretcher into the hall toward the elevator. The cold facade cracked, pain flashing over his face, deep in his eyes. ‘I have to tell his sister.’

Scarlett sat back down beside him, wrapping her fingers around his forearm again, wishing she could put her arms around him instead. ‘Lisette, right? One of your oldest friends.’

He nodded miserably. ‘Lisette works for me too. We’ve been friends for as long as I can remember. She’s like my sister, and Phillip’s always been the kid brother who wouldn’t leave me the hell alone.’ He closed his eyes. ‘Dammit to hell.’

‘I’m so sorry, Marcus,’ she murmured, giving his forearm a hard squeeze. ‘Let’s catch this sonofabitch.’

Marcus’s eyes opened and in them she saw barely bridled rage. ‘Yes. Let’s.’

Cincinnati, Ohio

Tuesday 4 August, 9.45 P.M.

Scarlett parked her car in the emergency room lot, switched off the ignition, then turned to look at Marcus with dark eyes that understood his pain. ‘You didn’t cause this,’ she whispered into the quiet.

‘You don’t know that,’ he said, looking at the brightly lit neon sign over the ER entrance. He had. He had caused this. He wasn’t sure which person on that damn list he’d pissed off, but whoever shot Phillip was one of them. Of that he was certain.

‘I know you didn’t cause this,’ she said simply. ‘But I would like to know why you believe you did.’

He couldn’t look at her, even when she reached across the console to stroke the backs of her fingers down his face. ‘Some secrets aren’t entirely mine to tell,’ he said finally, wishing it weren’t true. Wishing he hadn’t dragged others into the web of deceit and vengeance that had pulled him in so completely that he’d ceased to think about the very real possible consequences.

Like Tala and Agent Spangler being shot, both dying. Like Phillip and Edgar being shot and maybe dying. Because of me.

She hooked a finger under his chin and tugged until he looked at her. ‘The risks aren’t just yours to assume,’ she chided gently as she cupped his face in her palm. ‘Not anymore.’

She was right. He turned his face into her caress, earning him another. She brushed her thumb over his lips, inexplicably making his eyes sting. ‘I’ll talk to the others,’ he said.

‘All right.’ A final sweep of fingertips over his stubbled cheek. ‘For what it’s worth, I don’t believe you’ve done anything wrong.’

‘How could you know that?’

‘Because that’s not how you’re built, Marcus. You protect. You don’t destroy.’

He swallowed until he’d cleared his throat of the huge lump that had formed there. He didn’t deserve her confidence or her comfort. ‘I think Lisette will say differently.’

‘I don’t know her, so I can’t say.’

‘You don’t know me, either.’

‘Then let me. Because I want to.’ She slid her hand to the back of his neck and drew his head down for a kiss that was relatively chaste, but so sweet it made his eyes sting again. ‘Let’s go,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘Your friends need you.’

He quickly stowed his gun under the seat. She could wear hers into the hospital, but he couldn’t wear his, and he had no desire to have it taken from him. He’d been lucky the snotty officer who’d been the first responder at the apartment hadn’t searched him, mostly because he’d held BB on his lap until the forensic vet had arrived. By then the officer was thankfully gone.