Julie pulled the photo of the suspect, Bruce Rhodes, they’d nabbed last night. They’d found a set of overalls from a florist shop in his apartment. She showed the mug shot to Joanna. “Is this the man who shot you?”

  Joanna went pale and turned away. “No.”

  Ash knew a lie when he heard it.

  “What happened to the picture of you and Andrew that was on your piano, Joanna?” he asked.

  “I didn’t want to see it anymore. I put it away.”

  Julie touched Joanna’s arm. “When was it taken?”

  “Several years ago at a party.”

  “Which one?”

  Joanna closed her eyes and turned her head away. “I don’t know. I’m tired. Please go.”

  As they walked out of the hospital, Julie said, “I think Joanna was lying through her teeth.”

  “She was.”

  They drove to the apartment building where Carlson lived and showed the picture to Sarah.

  “Is that the man, sweetie?” Julie asked.

  Her solemn eyes regarded the detectives. “Yes.” She clutched her mother’s leg and pressed her face into the fabric of her mother’s jeans.

  The woman glared at the detectives. “You’ve frightened her. Go away.”

  Ash opened his mouth to argue, but Julie’s hand on his arm stopped him.

  Maria nodded. “You will not be here when she wakes in the middle of the night crying. I will not do this to her again.” With those final words, she closed the apartment door in their faces.

  Julie glanced at her partner. “I can’t blame the mother. Sarah’s given us more than most of the folks we’ve interviewed.”

  He agreed, but Sarah was the best bet they had.

  When they went to the jail to further question Bruce Rhodes, they discovered that he’d made bail.

  “Damn. Who would’ve thought the system worked that fast?” Ash ran his fingers through his hair and cursed. Worry ate at him. “I wonder who sprang our suspect?”

  “I’ve been looking for you, Ash,” the watch commander said as he walked out of his office.

  “Why?” Ash asked.

  “Your ex-wife’s house was broken into. A Mrs. Schattle called the 911 operator and reported it. She said to notify you and Kelly.”

  Where was Kelly? Was she at home or had she been at work? “You heard back from the unit on scene?” Ash questioned.

  “Not yet.”

  “Thanks. I’ll call Kelly.”

  Ash went to his desk and called the D.A.’s office, discovering that Kelly was in court. He didn’t like the feel of the situation. “I’m going over to the court building to tell Kelly what’s happened.”

  The trip across downtown took less than five minutes. Running inside, he went to the courtroom where Kelly should have been. The room was empty. He tracked down the court supervisor and learned the judge had been sick and postponed the trial.

  “Do you know where the A.D.A. is?” he asked the woman.

  “No.”

  A coldness settled around his heart.

  “Mary, do you know what happened to Kelly Whalen?” the woman asked the girl at the next desk.

  “When she was in rescheduling, she mentioned something about working out some of the tension in her neck.”

  Ash stared at the women. “Do you know what she was talking about?”

  The older woman smiled. “I do. There’s a massage place in front of evidence storage.”

  Ash knew the place. “Thanks.”

  Ash didn’t see Kelly’s car but decided to check out the place anyway.

  He flashed his badge to the receptionist. “Is A.D.A. Kelly Whalen here?”

  The woman studied him. “Yes.”

  Relief rushed through him, followed by blood-boiling anger. “What room is she in?”

  “Room four. But you can’t—”

  He shoved his badge into his pocket and marched down the hall.

  Kelly sighed, enjoying the skilled hands working out the knots in her neck. This morning after her first postponement, she had decided she deserved an hour’s break and a full massage. Between Ash, the Procters and the sterling Andrew Reed, it had been a miserable week. She had discovered this place when one of the other A.D.A.’s who had vicious tension headaches talked about it.

  The soft sound of the ocean played in the background while the female therapist worked the knots out of her shoulders.

  “You’re very tense,” her therapist murmured.

  She didn’t know the half of it. Kelly let her mind drift and the image that popped into her mind was of Ash, his fingers on her, his skin touching hers.

  “Where is she?” Kelly heard Ash demand, his voice harsh. He sounded as if he wanted to scare the receptionist spitless.

  So much for relaxation.

  “Room four,” came the reply. “But you can’t—”

  Before Kelly could react, the door to the small room opened and Ash barreled inside. Kelly glanced over her shoulder.

  Ash stopped and stared at her bare back. “What the hell are you doing?” He had a wild-eyed look to him.

  “Getting a massage.” Kelly turned over, but the sheet covering her bare torso slipped. She felt Ash’s stare burning into her, making her breasts peak. Grabbing the sheet, she yanked it up over her breasts. The heat in his brown eyes nearly incinerated the table.

  “You can’t barge in here,” the therapist protested.

  Ash flashed his badge. When the woman started to protest, Kelly shook her head.

  “It’s okay.”

  The therapist left.

  “What’s wrong?” Kelly asked, sliding off the table.

  His eyes continued to stare at her chest. She felt the pull of the attraction sucking her down into a vortex.

  He shook his head. “Mrs. Schattle called the cops.”

  “So? She calls on a regular basis.”

  “This time your house was broken into. The watch commander came looking for me when Mrs. Schattle told the operator to contact you and me. And Bruce Rhodes made bail.”

  “What?” His urgency was understandable. “Who let that slip through?” After several seconds when he hadn’t moved but stood rooted to the spot, she said, “If you’ll step outside, Ash, I’ll get dressed and we can see about my house.”

  “Sure.”

  Kelly quickly dressed, gathered her purse and walked to the back door.

  “I’ll follow you,” Ash informed her.

  Kelly closed her eyes. They had trouble.

  The patrol car was still at the house, as well as crime scene and a detective from burglary.

  Ash felt like a fool for blowing up at Kelly the way he had, but when he saw her, saw all that beautiful smooth skin, his worry for her safety had ambushed him.

  He walked with Kelly through the house. The detective, Eric Montgomery, glanced up and nodded to Ash and Kelly. The library was a mess. Files were dumped onto the floor where they had been pulled from the filing cabinet. Her desk was a disaster with papers littering the surface.

  “I’ll need you to see if there’s anything missing, Kelly, here and in the rest of the house,” Eric said.

  She glanced at Ash. He knew exactly what she suspected. It was the same suspicion he had.

  “I’ll check. Why don’t I walk through the house, then we can go through the files in this room when your guys are finished.”

  “Sounds good,” Eric agreed.

  As she walked into the living, she said, “It’s odd that I decided to take the Carlson file with me this morning. It’s in my briefcase.”

  His eyes widened. “Why’d you do that?”

  “I had one of those funny feelings that I should take that file with me today. Looks like you’re not the only one with good instincts.”

  “You’re right.”

  Kelly slowly walked through each room of the house. Ash followed. The crime-scene guys had dusted the window in the living room where the intruder had pried it open and slipped inside.

  “Did you lift any prints off the window, Eric?” Ash called.

  “Not any reliable ones,” he yelled back.

  Ash glanced at the broken lock. “I’ll fix it. We’ll go to the hardware store and buy another lock. Of course, it’s a lousy lock, and I won’t be surprised if it was just a teenager, looking for money. All the locks on these windows need to be replaced, Kelly.”

  “Would you save the lecture?” He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t know.

  They walked through her bedroom. Nothing had been disturbed. Ash noticed the nightgown hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was a sheer green and it took him a long time to move past it. His reaction caused a thrill to go through her. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

  They next looked in the nursery. Nothing had been touched. When he met her gaze, the outside world ceased to exist for a moment. There was a sense of peace between them.

  “Is Kelly here?” Mrs. Schattle asked, her voice carrying from the front door.

  “I guess we better talk to our neighbor,” Kelly said, then realized what she had said. Our neighbor, as if she was Ash’s, too.

  “Kelly, darling, where are you?” Mrs. Schattle called.

  Kelly and Ash walked out of the nursery and back into the living room where the older woman glared at Eric. He shrugged, as if to say what could I do?

  Mrs. Schattle had snow-white hair, coiled into a bun on the top of her head. She was under five feet, her hands knotted with arthritis and she walked slowly, but her eyes were as bright and sharp as they had been when she was twenty.

  “Did that thief take much, dear?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Schattle. Thank you for calling this in,” Kelly answered.

  The old woman beamed. “I do what I can.”

  “And I appreciate it.”

  Mrs. Schattle looked at Ash. “It’s nice to see you again, young man.” A grin creased her mouth. “It’s about time you came home.”

  Kelly’s eyes widened. Ash choked back a response. Luckily the evidence man walked into the room.

  Ash pulled a picture from the inside pocket of his sport coat. “Was this the guy you saw, Mrs. Schattle?”

  She squinted at the picture. “I can’t say. I didn’t get a good look at his face. The hair’s the right color.”

  “Thanks.” Ash smiled at the woman.

  “I’m finished,” Eric announced. “I’ll run the prints I found and get back to you.” He walked out the front door.

  Kelly turned to Mrs. Schattle. “We’re going to have to go through my library. Thank you again for calling this in.”

  “You are very welcome, my dear.” She turned and left.

  Three hours later, Kelly knew that no files had been taken.

  “It looks like maybe our guess was right,” Ash said.

  “Maybe the thief was looking for something else—money stocks, and thought they might be in the library.” From the expression on his face, Kelly knew her wild assumption didn’t wash. “All right, it’s farfetched.”

  He frowned. “Maybe you should spend the night somewhere else.”

  “No.”

  “Just for tonight,” he urged.

  Her jaw locked and her eyes hardened. He knew that look. Dynamite wouldn’t move her. “I’m not running, Ash.”

  His gaze narrowed, and Kelly prepared herself for the fight. After a minute, he shrugged. “Okay.”

  He stood and walked to the front door.

  She stared. “Is that all you’re going to say?” she demanded.

  “Will anything I say make a difference?” he asked reasonably.

  Why was he acting so cool and calm now when earlier he had acted like an avenging angel, storming into the room where she was getting a massage?

  As she watched him drive away, Kelly couldn’t believe he had left. What kind of police protection was that?

  Ash sat in his car, watching the Procters’ house. He had gone by Bruce Rhodes’s apartment but the man hadn’t returned, so Ash had decided to question the Procters’ secretary.

  Their Mercedes pulled out of the driveway and drove down the street. He didn’t doubt they were going to the reception for the Houston Opera. They were big supporters.

  He pushed opened his car door and walked to the mansion’s front door. He rang the bell and waited. When the housekeeper opened the door, Ash flashed his badge.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Procter are not here,” the older woman told him.

  “I didn’t come to talk to them. Is Rebecca Bryant here?” It wasn’t hard to discover the name of the Procters’ secretary.

  She quickly hid her surprise and showed him into the living room. A moment late, a woman in her thirties walked into the room. She was dressed in tailored black slacks and an elegant white blouse. Her hair was carefully styled and her earring modest. But he noticed that her top two buttons were undone.

  “How can I help you, Detective?”

  “Do you know if Catherine Reed ever told her parents that she wanted a divorce from her husband?”

  All color drained from her face. She glanced toward the kitchen. “Could I walk you to your car?”

  He understood she didn’t want to be overheard. “Sure.”

  She walked outside with him. “Catherine told her parents she wanted a divorce the April before she died. I was doing taxes when she walked into the house. I heard the argument.” She glanced at the house. “Her father told her Procters didn’t divorce. And if she continued talking about it, he’d cut her off without a cent.”

  Ash looked Rebecca in the eye. “Why didn’t you mention this to someone?”

  She glanced at the house across the street. “Because I want to keep my job.”

  “Andrew Reed, what do you think of him?”

  She looked down at her feet.

  “What is it, Rebecca?”

  “I was one of Andrew’s conquests.” She shrugged. “I was flattered that he noticed me. But when I openly flirted with him in front of the Procters, he told me I was a fool and slapped me.”

  “And you didn’t point this out to any investigator?” Ash demanded.

  “I didn’t want to cross him. He told me it wouldn’t be beneficial for my health if I did.”

  “And you believed him?”

  Her eyes were stark. “Yes.”

  “So why tell me now?”

  “Because I vowed to myself I wouldn’t lie if asked.”

  “But not volunteer any information if not asked? That’s a thin distinction.”

  She shrugged. “We all have to survive.” She turned and walked back into the house.

  Ash wondered why Ralph Lee hadn’t questioned Rebecca. But then again, Ash had discovered an entire host of questions that Ralph hadn’t asked.

  Chapter 12

  K elly walked into her library, the Carlson file in her hand, and sat at the desk. It had been a waste to go back to work. She had gotten nothing done. The deposition that she was supposed to take had been delayed due to a witness’s illness. The entire day should have just been canceled.

  She opened the Carlson file and glanced through it. Why had she decided to take it with her? What had been bothering her about it? She’d been ready to walk out of the house that morning, when the urge to get it had washed over her.

  That intuition Ash knew and approved of. She understood now why he would follow his gut. She’d given him grief about it when they were married, because his actions had usually resulted in headaches for the D.A.’s office. But those instincts also proved right nine times out of ten.

  A car door slamming made her jerk. The doorbell sounded. Opening the front door, she noted that Ash had a big sack from the local home-improvement store. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He gave her a dark look. He stepped back and eyed the plunger handle she’d wedged in the window frame to prevent it from being opened. “I’m here to fix your broken window lock. I’m also going to put some steel clamps on the window frames so that they can’t be forced open like the one in the living room.”

  When she opened her mouth to respond, he shook his head.

  “Don’t argue. It won’t do you any good.” He marched past her into the room.

  She frowned at his back. “I wasn’t. I was going to thank you.”

  His look said he didn’t believe her. His brow arched, then he went to work.

  A warmth stole through her. “Since I can’t talk you out of your mission, I guess I could feed you.”

  Ash glanced up from where he’d pulled out the locks from the sack. “I could use a good meal.”

  “Then it’s a deal.” Kelly went back into the kitchen and started a pot of spaghetti. When dinner was ready, she found Ash in her bedroom, putting the last of the locks on her windows.

  Her heart turned over her in chest seeing him in their bedroom. If she was honest with herself, she would admit she missed him. She remembered countless times when he’d awakened her with kisses and the warm strokes of his hands. Their love life had never lacked, at least not until the end.

  She’d had few dates since their divorce, but she hadn’t been tempted to share anything more than a few kisses. Pushing aside the thought, she announced, “Dinner’s ready.”

  He nodded and followed her into the kitchen. He didn’t say anything but settled at the table.

  Kelly braced herself. When Ash looked up, he resembled a young boy caught stealing the neighbor’s mail.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry about this afternoon at the massage clinic.” He stared down into his plate of spaghetti. “I was crazy with worry by the time I found you. After visiting Joanna Kris in the hospital, seeing her injuries…then the suspect making bail.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You were supposed to be in court, then you weren’t there…”

  His words touched a hidden place in her heart. She didn’t remember the last time Ash had apologized to her.

  She laid her hand on his and, when his gaze met hers, she whispered, “Apology accepted.”

  He nodded and dug into his dinner.

  “Has Joanna Kris regained consciousness, yet?” Kelly asked.

  “She has. But whoever shot her got his message across. When we showed her Bruce Rhodes’s picture, a guy we arrested who had a florist’s overalls in his apartment—”