And yet...it appeared that the home was abandoned. While they couldn’t get past the ten-foot-tall wrought iron gate, Haley noted the unmowed lawn out loud, first.

  “Yeah, definitely looks like no one’s been here for at least a month. Probably more like two.”

  Leaning forward, heart pumping, Haley asked, “That wreath on the front door...is that two angels hovering over roses?”

  The wreath was huge. Taking out his phone, Paul took a picture, then enlarged it on his screen.

  “That’s what it looks like,” he said, showing her the screen. With two fingers, she widened the photo more, moved the image around the screen so she could see more of it. And hoped that Paul didn’t notice that her fingers were trembling.

  “When we were little, one of Kelsey’s caregivers at her father’s place told her that there were always angels watching over because she was a little angel. And if she ever started to doubt, all she had to do was smell a rose to know that they were there. She always used to say that someday, when she had her own home, she was going to have an angel wreath on the door...”

  She broke off, throat frozen as she teared up, and then, when she could, said, “About six months ago, in one of our phone calls, she told me she got her wreath. It was one of the things that convinced me she’d really found a man with whom she was truly happy. I didn’t think of it until right now, but...”

  Heart racing, she leaned forward, as though something in the air would confirm her suspicion. “This is where she was living,” she said. “It has to be.”

  She had no proof, but intuition told her she was right. The same shell company that had paid her rent had purchased the house. It all made sense.

  Including the ten-foot-tall wrought iron keeping her and Paul out.

  “This is where she was being held,” she said.

  His silence beside her didn’t bother her at first. She was too filled up with her discovery. She was looking at her sister’s wreath. They were getting closer.

  Had the baby lived in the home, too? At least for the first few days?

  Had Kelsey had at least those first hours with her baby?

  And then Paul’s lack of response resonated.

  “What?” she asked him.

  “How many captors do you know who buy wreaths to please their prisoners?”

  Okay, there was a slight flaw in her theory. But...

  “Maybe he was playing her, Paul, did you think of that? Maybe he’d convinced her that he loved her, that they were going to be together, and played along with her fantasy. Until the baby was born...”

  It was possible.

  “Not likely. He’d have had to let her come and go to get her to believe that. She’d have had a car...even I know Kelsey wouldn’t be stranded without her own wheels.”

  He was right about that.

  “Maybe the pregnancy had her bedridden.”

  “And what, he put the wreath there to appease her, took a picture of it to show her that it was there, and then left it there?”

  “It could happen.” She’d spent her entire life watching people deceive each other. It was the world in which she’d grown up.

  Giving a rich man what he wanted so he’d give you everything your heart desired.

  As long as your heart just desired monetary things.

  Problem with that was, inevitably, there came a time, usually with the passage of time, that what you had to give, the man no longer wanted.

  Paul didn’t argue with her.

  Just put the vehicle in gear and drove slowly down the road.

  He needed time on his computer. Hudson was doing what he could, but had another case that he was working on. Same with Winchester. But Paul’s hunches with innocuous, seemingly small things sometimes took him to his prey.

  As a precaution, he checked out of the Strip hotel with a phone call and took them to a freestanding high-rise casino just outside town. There were no adjoining rooms, which meant they’d be sharing the large space with two queen beds, but it had a separate living area. It gave them at least some privacy.

  Treating Haley like any other work associate, he left her to figure out what she wanted to do, and set to work at his laptop on the desk in the sitting room section. He had questions...like why would one corporation pay for just an apartment and a house and seemingly nothing else? And, why move from the apartment to the house?

  Unless one didn’t want one’s activities to be seen.

  There was some merit to the conclusions Haley had drawn at the house they’d visited. But there were inconsistencies, too. First and foremost, he had to know who was behind the shell corporation. He couldn’t legally access Thomas Gladstone’s financial information, but there were a lot of public records that would allow him to get closer to the man’s activities. Phone number databases, criminal background checks, utility bills, public tax information. And Kelsey’s credit card application, her department store loyalty cards and air travel records for either of them.

  There were also some avenues he could follow directly from Kelsey’s accounts. Her other credit cards, as well as the one tied to the corporation. He’d already run her through most of his other resources.

  Two hours later, he had a ton of information, and didn’t feel any closer to finding the answers he sought. As though she could sense his mental break, Haley appeared with a cup of coffee and a plate in hand bearing a sandwich, chips and a pickle.

  “I ordered lunch and am assuming you still like beef with beets, lettuce and mayo,” she said, setting the plate beside him.

  So, she remembered. It was an odd sandwich combination. As she’d told him laughingly many times over their years together.

  No weirder, in his opinion, than her microwaved tuna, onion, cheese and mayo, served over tortilla chips, he’d always shot back.

  She’d taken a seat on the couch, where she’d been on and off while he’d been working—mostly off—and was munching on a sandwich of her own.

  Tuna and lettuce by the look of it.

  Maybe she’d grown up in her tastes.

  No reason to entertain any nostalgia over the mayo and cheese and onion with chips.

  “When you get a chance to check your email, I had some video footage sent over to you,” she said, as though asking how his sandwich tasted. The way she only looked at her own late lunch as she spoke made him curious.

  “What video footage?”

  “From a position of being Kelsey’s grief-stricken sister, needing answers, I called an attorney whose child I had in the ED, who called the Las Vegas Police Department and requested traffic cam footage for the time and area of Kelsey’s accident. I know it’s already been thoroughly gone over, and that nothing was found, I just thought maybe you...”

  He nodded. Smiled. Took a man-sized bite of sandwich.

  And suddenly felt glad that she was there.

  * * *

  The sun was still shining in their tenth-floor windows at seven that evening. Feeling like she’d been in the room for days, instead of hours, Haley looked up from the pages she’d been combing when Paul suddenly stood up.

  Other than one trip to the bathroom, he hadn’t left his seat since he’d taken up residence. He’d given her the fifty-page list of credit card charges, assigning her the task of comparing card numbers to types of charges and locations of establishments, and the spreadsheet she’d been compiling was almost done.

  She had observations to share—including a text conversation with Jeanine reporting that there’d been no more activity at home—but had planned to wait until her task was completed since she didn’t want to interrupt his concentration.

  “There’s no clear designation for Kelsey’s choices of which cards to use when,” she told him. Her little sister had had a total of six VISA credit cards. There was record of all of them having been paid for out of her bank accounts, other than one. The one used at The Gladiator. “Other than that one card, she seemed to trade off, not in any particular fashion, and not for any particular purchases. She’d used different cards in the same stores and restaurants, even getting her hair done.”

  The only conspicuous thing was that one card. “And there were no other charges that stood out as being something Kelsey wouldn’t do,” she added.

  He stood there, watching her, making her mouth a little dry, so she continued, because talking was easier than letting him get to her. “The other thing of note, she used her other cards at the same time she used the one with the oddities. Often even on the same days.”

  “Always in Vegas?”

  “Going by her credit card usage, she was always in Vegas on the days that both cards hit.”

  “And sometimes charges hit a day or two after the expenditure was made,” he said.

  She had no idea how anything she was doing was going to help nail Gladstone, or find proof of the existence of a baby, let alone find the baby. She’d begun to wonder if he’d just been keeping her busy so she didn’t make any other phone calls or in any way stick her nose into his search.

  She hated to even entertain such a catty thought.

  Yes, she was tired. Tense. Grieving more than she’d realized. And, most particularly after her earlier near kidnapping-turned-warning, afraid.

  Paul still seemed to bring her emotions out in all the wrong ways. He made her do and think things she would not normally think or do.

  “I need to go out for a while,” he said, his tone too easygoing, as he passed her and headed toward the duffel he’d left on the floor not far from the door—telling her to use the luggage rack for her little bag.

  “Where?”

  “Just going to do some surveillance.”

  Something that could be dangerous, she translated. His back to her, he was hunched down over his pack, passing over some loosely folded articles until he pulled out a dark T-shirt.

  And her heart lurched. No way she wanted to sit alone trapped in a hotel room with no transportation and nowhere to walk to but the desert, while he was out there facing God knew what on her behalf.

  She stood up, headed toward her bag which was about halfway to his. Looked for her own dark clothes. Jeans and a black pullover shirt that she normally wore with her white shorts. “Two sets of eyes are better than one. Can cover more ground in more direction.”

  “You aren’t trained if things get dicey, nor are you armed.”

  At least he hadn’t denied the danger. Since he’d carted her around everywhere else, and then the last place had turned dangerous for a second there, his motivation had been fairly obvious.

  A white button-down shirt and pair of black pants came out of the duffel next, with a white T-shirt. The black shirt was shoved back in.

  He was going fancy?

  And it hit her. He was going to confront Thomas Gladstone. No way she was missing that. If she had to hire a cab and follow him. She hadn’t come that far to lose the chance to confront her sister’s killer and find out what he’d done with the baby...

  With a strong retort on her lips, she heard herself a split second before the words were uttered and took a mental step back.

  An emotional step back so that her mind could work best. She had to a find a way to be a legitimate asset to the operation.

  “At least if I know where you’re going, I’ll know where to start looking if you don’t make it back.”

  Upright, he turned, clothes in hand, facing her. And then said, “You’re not going to like what I have to say.”

  She shrugged. With their history, nothing more needed to be said on that one.

  “I don’t think Thomas Gladstone was involved in Kelsey’s death.”

  Heart sinking, she stood her ground. But, damn. He was right. She didn’t like what he was thinking. At all.

  But she’d hired him. Could fire him just as easily. After she heard him out. He was an expert—and he’d earned that reputation the hard way.

  By proving himself.

  “Why?”

  Dropping his clothes to the bed, he reached for the ironing board hanging in the closet, set it up, plugged in the iron, set it upright on the board and turned to her.

  He held up one finger. “First, I’ve been through the traffic cam video and there’s no sign, whatsoever, of any kind of foul play. Kelsey’s driving the vehicle that was registered to her at the time of her death.” Something they’d already known. “One camera caught her face and she didn’t appear to be in distress. There’s no sign of her being followed. And when the crash occurred there weren’t even any other vehicles by her.”

  She’d asked. It was still hard to hear. Licking her lips and then pursing them, she held her tongue.

  “This doesn’t tell me for certain that there wasn’t foul play, but it would appear that she wasn’t under duress in terms of being held captive. I don’t know that. But my process requires me to factor in every piece.”

  Her tension eased slightly as her faith in him returned.

  “Second,” he flashed up two fingers, “I’ve just been through the criminal database—with legal access granted me by my licensing—looking for known associates of Thomas Gladstone and searching for the man I saw accosting you this afternoon—and came up with faces, but none that even slightly resembled the guy I’m looking for.”

  “Did you find him, though? In the database apart from Gladstone?”

  He shook his head. And held up three fingers. “Third, I’ve completed the check on Gladstone and there’s absolutely nothing in his report that links him in any way to anything to do with Kelsey, other than that one credit card. I’ve got data from as recently as last week, and there’s nothing that indicates any hidden life, no unusual disappearances, no changes in his patterns and absolutely nothing that ties him to anything to do with babies or children.”

  She opened her mouth to protest. Of course there wasn’t! If he was hiding a pregnant woman and killing her after she had the child, wouldn’t he be careful not to seem as though he was an expectant father?

  On the other hand...the man had managed to hide so well that he’d convinced Paul he probably hadn’t taken Kelsey. From what her little sister had told her about the Gladstone heir, he wasn’t that good.

  He wasn’t dumb. But he just wasn’t that smart, either.

  “What about the officer who stopped us last night? The one who does Gladstone’s private security.”

  “He’s handled a few security jobs for him. I admit there’s at least coincidence there.”

  There was nothing left for her to do, but nod. And say, “So...where are you going?”

  “To an entertainment club Gladstone frequents every Saturday night that he’s in Vegas. It’s upscale, discreet, with a cover charge that insures that only the most wealthy will enter...”

  “You’re still looking at him.”

  “She had a credit card paid for by one of his private bank accounts. And she used it to frequent places she doesn’t normally go. That’s suspicious. It’s not enough, however, without any other corroborating evidence, to get me to go at him. Not in any official capacity.”

  Aha. Haley bit back a grin. She was up to speed. “You’re posing as yourself, a wealthy man, one of the California Wrights, with a plan to try to get close enough to Thomas Gladstone to have a conversation with him.”

  Licking his finger, he tapped it quickly to the plate of the iron. Haley heard the slight singe and watched as Paul proceeded to iron his shirt. This was new. He’d always sent his laundry out when they’d been married. Even in college, he’d had his clothes laundered. “I’m hoping to at least get close enough to his party to overhear conversation, if nothing else.”

  The plan was good. But it could be better. “You’d look less conspicuous if you had a date. And less suspicious if it looked like you and that date only had eyes for each other.”

  Part of her couldn’t believe what she was suggesting. The other part knew her idea was not only solid, but pretty damn good.

  “I’m not just a pretty face,” she blurted, then winced. She’d said the same thing to him when he’d accused her, that last horrendous anniversary celebration, of marrying him for his money. She’d not only been devastated, but insulted as well. As though she’d ever use her physical attributes to lure anyone. For anything.

  And yet, there she was, suggesting Paul take her along to his undercover work as a physical distraction.

  “There’s something suspicious about Gladstone,” Paul said, sliding his shirt off the board and grabbing the pants. “As you pointed out, I didn’t find the thug from this morning in any database, so while we can’t connect him to Gladstone, that doesn’t mean they aren’t associated. Whoever came at you this morning wasn’t playing around. And he wasn’t an amateur. If they’d wanted to do more than warn you, you’d be gone.

  “I can’t do my job, focus fully on the room, the man, if I’m also worried about watching out for you.”

  “Then let me watch out for me, Paul. You aren’t my husband. You aren’t responsible for me in any way. And, frankly, at this point, if there’s really a baby out there, I’d rather die trying to find it than to let it be in danger. Be harmed. Or worse.”

  She knew that they could already be too late. It had been almost two days since the note had been left on her door, and twenty-four hours since the man was back at her home, telling Jeanine to warn Haley. Anything could have happened since that time. And they both knew it.

  Paul finished ironing. He took his clothes in the bathroom and shut the door. She heard the shower start.

  She didn’t have anything sexy or black to wear. But the shops on the first floor of the hotel would. Grabbing her bag and a key to the room, she slipped out the door.