Judging Ellie

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Table of Contents JUDGING ELLIE Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Amber Quill Press, LLC

JUDGING ELLIE

by CATHERINE SNODGRASS & BRYNDIS RUBIN

Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

Judging Ellie An Amber Quill Press Book

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC P.O. Box 50251 Bellevue, Washington 98015

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

Copyright © 2002 by Catherine Snodgrass & Bryndis Rubin ISBN 1-59279-034-8 Cover Art © 2002 Trace Edward Zaber Rating: R

Layout and Formatting Provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

Published in the United States of America

Also by Catherine Snodgrass & Bryndis Rubin

Always Faithful Ice Princess

Dedication

To all those snippets of conversation and tidbits of information that spark my imagination.

~ Catherine Snodgrass

To my mom who had faith in me.

~ Bryndis Rubin

Chapter 1

"I look like a prostitute." Ellie Severance stared in disbelief at her reflection in the bedroom mirror.

"Hon, relax and get a grip." Susan Bolotnik, Ellie’s best friend and temporary makeover artisan laughed, and tugged the red wig into place over the nape of Ellie’s neck.

"That’s easy for you to say." Ellie’s complaint went unnoticed. She continued anyway. "You don’t look like you should be propping up a lamppost in the tenderloin district."

She puffed air toward her flaming bangs. It didn’t keep them out of her eyes. And the skirt! She grabbed the hem and tried to yank it down.

"Please tell me there’s more to this somewhere."

Susan’s look screamed exasperation. "You look fabulous, even if you won’t admit it to yourself." She cocked her blonde head to one side and admired her handiwork with a satisfied smile. "I should become a makeup artist."

"Howwould the Navy ever do without you?" Ellie let the sarcasm speak for itself while she tried to objectively evaluate the results of Susan’s clever cosmetic work.

Where am I underneath all of this makeup?

Heavy liner highlighted with a luminescent silver powder made her charcoal gray eyes enormous behind her glasses, like an Egyptian deity. Dark red lipstick gave her lips a lush, sultry pout.

The entire outfit was outrageously revealing. She twisted away from the mirror and paced the confines of her small bedroom. Pacing always made her feel better. The problem with pacing in a tiny room was that the tell-all mirror kept giving glimpses of her transformation.

The crimson wig was straight and heavy; flipped-up ends just brushed her shoulders. Ellie’s own dark, unruly curls were tightly concealed with a combination of hair gel and bobby pins—all of which made her scalp itch. Still, it was better than the wig cap Susan originally wanted her to wear; that thing sucked the life out of her head.

As for the clothes, Susan had delved into her own vast, off-duty wardrobe for Ellie’s transformation. Thorough searching yielded a stylish, black silk tank top with a scoop neck that felt like heaven against Ellie’s skin. But a soft leather mini-skirt that looked cute when Susan wore it seemed extraordinarily short on Ellie. The two women were about the same height, but Ellie’s curves filled out the form-fitting clothes to the point of indecency. The sophisticated designer outfit looked chic on Susan, but on Ellie it oozed provocative.

The crowning touch to the evening’s ensemble was a pair of thigh-high leather boots with three-inch heels. They hugged Ellie’s calves and rustled enticingly as she walked. The tight skirt, the height of the boots with their come-hither whisper screamed for male attention and forced a sway into Ellie’s walk that made her want to crawl in a hole and die. She’d never been more uncomfortable in her life.

"I can’t wear this in public. I’ll get arrested for indecent exposure." Ellie half-walked, half-stumbled to the bed, sat, and tugged at her left boot.

"You’re wearing more right now than you do when you’re at the pool."

"I don’t go to the pool. Not the base pool. Not the Twentynine Palms pool." She plucked at the boot. It seemed glued to her leg and wouldn’t budge. "Can you see me swimming around in front of two billion twenty-year-old Marines? No way."

"Yes, God forbid any man should see what a great figure you have underneath that frumpy uniform." Susan tossed up her hands with exasperation, then shook her head. Her bobbed hair bounced around her heart-shaped face. She bore a striking resemblance to Meg Ryan. Too bad she didn’t have the girl-next-door disposition to match.

"Let’s get a second opinion. Call Jeremy in from the living room. I’m sure he’s demolished the contents of your refrigerator by now and will be ready to give you his expert male opinion on your makeover."

Ellie looked up from her attack on the boot and frowned. "As if I really care about his opinion. Why did you have to invite him out with us tonight anyway? This was supposed to be girls’ night out, at least before you turned it into sluts’ night out. And the last thing I feel like hearing tonight is Jeremy’s running commentary." The man never shut up for an instant.

Susan laughed and leaned into the mirror to touch up her glossy lipstick. Gently blotting with a piece of tissue, she sighed and replied, "Jeremy’s at loose ends right now. You know being busted to PFC rattled him. I thought we could give him some company. Anyway, going out is a good stress reliever, right?" She straightened the belt of her halter-cut cranberry jump suit.

Jeremy needed to be rattled. A Marine didn’t go absent without leave and not expect some ramifications. From what Ellie heard, it wasn’t the first time for unauthorized absence. He deserved being busted from sergeant to private first class. By all rights, she shouldn’t even be associating with him. But Jeremy and Susan were a package deal.

Ellie gave up on removing the boot and lowered her foot with an exasperated thump. "By loose ends you mean he’s in-between girlfriends and needs a pair of babysitters? I swear he goes through women like you go through rubber gloves. I don’t know why you ever dated him in the first place."

"He’s harmless, and don’t try to change the subject by starting an argument." Susan wagged a finger at her. "You’re just trying to wiggle out of our big adventure."

Ellie looked everywhere but in Susan’s blue eyes. "I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this. I thought when you said we were going to work on getting me out of the house and having some fun for my birthday, you meant going to a movie or something. Or going to a coffee house in Palm Springs. Not all…this."

She waved her hand over the new her. "I feel like I’m trick-or-treating, or playing the starring role in a Broadway musical." She glanced up, letting her gaze plead her case. "It’s just not me."

Susan whirled around and parked her fists onto slender hips. "You’re impossible! You’re afraid to take one step outside of the little safety zone you’ve constructed for yourself. You’re afraid to live, to relax and see the joy in life. That’s a terrible thing."

Ellie opened her mouth to protest, but Susan stomped toward the bed, shushing her with one raised

finger.

"Let me say my piece. In the two months we’ve known each other, I’ve never seen you date, much less socialize with anyone outside of office functions. If you’re not at work being the good little Marine Corps court reporter, you’re squirreled away at that damn bookstore."

"I get a discount—"

"Enough!" She tossed up her hands. "Forget work, forget those stupid books, forget about being Eleanor Severance, just for this one night." She grabbed Ellie’s wrists, hauled her to her feet, then let go.

Ellie flailed her arms for balance.

Susan grabbed her before she fell. "I want you to have some fun. Come out tonight and have the time of your life. Be someone else. Make this evening a birthday gift to yourself."

On firm feet once more, Ellie stood there, stomach clenching, heart pounding with indecision. She looked again at the mirror, at herself in the wig, the glamorous makeup, and the skin-tight mini, and knew true fear.

Voice low, she slowly said, "I know I’m not the flashiest person or the most outgoing. I’d really rather just stay home and read my books."

"But?"

"But you’re right." She added a nod, confirming in her mind what she needed to do. "I’m twenty-eight years old today, and I sure haven’t done much with my life. I work, I collect my books, I… I haven’t dated in forever. You know, I’d love to meet that one man who makes my knees go weak and my heart pound a million miles a minute. If anyone like that really exists."

Susan snickered. "You’ve been reading too many romance novels, hon. I don’t think anyone like that

exists out here in the deserts of Twentynine Palms, California, or anywhere else for that matter."

"I’m serious." Ellie looked her straight in the eye. "My biological clock is ticking something fierce."

Susan’s eyebrows shot up like exclamation marks, her cerulean eyes wide with amazement. "A baby? You want a baby? You have got to be kidding me."

"Don’t look so shocked. Of course, I want a baby. Not right at this moment, but one day. Does that surprise you?"

Susan splayed her fingers over her bosom. "Idon’t. And I think you’re crazy if—"

"Because I want a normal life?"

"Who’s to say what’s normal?" she snapped.

Susan had a point. Normal was what made people happy. Ellie couldn’t honestly say she was happy any more. She watched her coworkers with their children, their spouses, and longed for that kind of life. Especially children. She knew what she wanted, and now it was time to go out and get it. She wasn’t going to find the man of her dreams by sitting home every night with her cat and a good spy novel.

"Let’s just drop the baby comments, shall we?" She tugged at the annoying boots once more.

"Fine. Just remember, we’re just going out to dance and have some fun, not search out what the gene pool has to offer."

"Actually, according to a study about mating rituals that I saw on PBS, each time…"

Susan slapped her hands over her ears. "La, la, la, la. I can’t hear you. I can’t hear you."

Ellie laughed. "Okay…enough. I promise I’ll try to be charming and exciting, not nerdy and boring."

Susan dropped her hands. "Thank you. One more thing… Let’s lose these."

Before Ellie could stop her, Susan snatched off her black-rimmed glasses and tossed them aside on the queen-sized bed.

"Hey! Are you two done in there yet?" Jeremy’s boyish tenor voice from the other side of the bedroom door sounded like it was coming directly through the doorknob.

"You get away from that keyhole!" Susan dashed to the door and smacked the wood with the flat of her hand.

A muffled "ouch" came from the other side.

"You rotten peeping tom," she shouted at the door.

"I couldn’t see anything anyway," Jeremy protested from the other side. "And I thought hospital people were supposed to be kind and gentle."

"I’m off-duty, darlin’." Susan glanced at Ellie with a grin. "Are you ready to see the new Eleanor Severance?"

"If I say yes, can we get going? I really want to get to the bar and grab a beer, plus Hades keeps giving me the evil eye. He’s already scratched my hand, and I think he’s going to bite me or something."

"Hades does not bite." Ellie wiggled her foot, trying in vain to get some breathing room between her and the leather boot.

Ignoring them both, Susan performed a drum roll on the door. "And now, for the first time in public, showing off her beautiful body and long, long legs—Yes, she has legs! It’s Ellie!"

With a flourish, Susan threw open the bedroom door and Jeremy Forton fell in through the doorway. Turning his unexpected entrance into a controlled belly flop, he quickly managed to roll onto his back, laughing.

"Are you all right?" Ellie tried to break Jeremy’s fall, but wobbled on her high heels and was forced to grab onto a nearby bookcase to keep from crumpling on top of him. She still managed to slide down the shelves and land on her backside with a thump.

When they had dated, Susan had always referred to Jeremy as her pretty surfer boy. It was true. Jeremy was wonderful to look at. His white-blonde hair was cut in the longest regulation style the Marine Corps would allow, and it had a slight wave above his neck. His eyes were blue-violet fringed with thick, dark gold lashes. Jeremy wasn’t tall for a man, closer to Ellie’s height of five feet seven inches, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in muscle. Jeremy was a native Californian, but he was no surfer; his passion was weightlifting, and his body was heavily muscled.

Susan had once confided to Ellie that she believed Jeremy joined the Marine Corps to prove how manly he really was. His almost pretty good looks and lack of height put him on the defensive and encouraged his contemporaries to question his masculinity. Being a Marine Corps tanker gave Jeremy machismo and the toys to back it up.

Ellie thought if Jeremy spent half as much time working on his education as he did lifting weights in the gym, he might attain reasonable intelligence. While funny and good-natured, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the pack.

She remembered the first time she’d met him. He was at the bookstore buying Cliff’s Notes forThe Hobbit . As goofy as he was, she still liked him, even when he was being a testosterone-laden jerk.

As he spotted Ellie clambering to her feet, Jeremy’s laughter faded, and his beautiful eyes widened in appreciation. "Ellie, wow! If I didn’t know it was you—"

"Stand up, you idiot, and quit trying to look under her skirt." Susan yanked on his arm, hauling him to his feet. "What do you think of Ellie’s party outfit?"

He attempted a leer that was ruined by a firm pinch from Susan.

"Ow! Uh…you look real nice." He passed a gaze down the long expanse of leg that stretched down from the hem of the mini-skirt.

Ellie could bet that if he had been asked the same question in the company of his fellow Marines, his response would have been pornographic.

"If I were drunk in a bar, I’d pick you up myself," he declared reverently. "That red wig really looks great."

"High compliments, indeed," Ellie muttered.

"Are we going or not?" Susan demanded. "If we hurry, we can get to the club before the band sets up." She grabbed her purse from the bed. "Once they start playing, it’ll be impossible to find a table."

"You two look pretty hot." Jeremy draped an arm around each of them. "If any guys from my unit are there tonight, I may have to tell them I’m dating you both."

"You’re laying it on a bit thick tonight, Jeremy." Ellie sat back on the edge of the bed and yanked off the torturous boots.

"What’re you doing?" Susan screeched. "Youhave to wear those. They’re part of the outfit!"

"Trading. I’ll wear your wig, but I amnot wearing these boots. Give me your heels or I’m staying home."

Faced with that ultimatum, Susan had no choice but to grudgingly comply. Wearing four-inch heels didn’t help Ellie’s equilibrium, but at least her legs could breathe. She took a fortifying lungful of air and picked up her new, small, black leather purse, a birthday gift from her father and stepmom.

"Okay, let’s go before I lose my nerve and run for the shower to get this gunk off my face."

"I’ll join you in the shower any time, toots." Jeremy waggled his eyebrows at her and attempted his best Groucho Marx imitation.

She laughed, relaxing a little. "Thanks, Jeremy, I need all the confidence I can get."

A sibilant hiss from the doorway drew everyone’s attention. Ellie’s Maine Coon cat, Hades, stood in the doorway, back arched and black fur puffed out. He looked twice his already enormous size. Yellow eyes stared at Ellie’s outrageous wig. Hades hissed again before leaping to his accustomed perch on the windowsill. Tail curled around his legs, he continued to watch her, emitting little angry chuffing noises.

"There’s always a critic in every bunch," Susan said.

"Never mind him," Ellie said. "Where did you put my glasses? I can’t see a thing without them."

"Put in your contacts." Jeremy edged toward the door, keeping a nervous eye on the cat and fingering a fresh scratch on his right hand.

"I don’t have contacts." Ellie gave a shudder. "I’ve always been squeamish about putting things in my eyes."

"You’re not taking your glasses. They’re too nerdy for this outfit." Susan caught her arm and dragged her down the stairs to the front door.

"But I can’t see anything." Ellie squinted. Her surroundings were a blur at best. "I’m very nearsighted."

Susan gave her a little shove. "Go."

"Don’t worry, cutie-pie." Jeremy closed the door behind them. "We’re your friends. We’ll take good care of you during your birthday bash."

Ellie winced. "That’s what I’m afraid of."

Chapter 2

Pounding drumbeats shook the dance floor. Couples swayed to the beat, closed their eyes, and lost themselves in the music. Despite the ban against smoking, thick clouds of cigarette smoke tinged the air blue, an electric haze charged by furiously spinning strobe lights. Too many hot bodies in a crowded club made the atmosphere stifling. The Lost Oasis was open for business, and business was booming.

Kurt Duncan lounged against one mirrored pedestal table in the bar and surveyed the crowd in a predatory fashion. Couples jostled for space, trying to stake out prime locations for the evening. He examined each new face carefully. It was almost 10:05 pm. She should be arriving soon.The usual time.

Kurt scanned the packed dance floor and bar, his focus flicked from face to face. Not her. Not yet.Where is she, damnit?

The club’s clientele varied, locals looking for a change from the usual hick desert bars, excited to check out a new venue. Marines crowded in, eager to get away from the monotony of the nearby military base,

enjoying the music and the chance to dance with women who weren’t in uniform. They were all young, energetic, and looking forward to partying until the small hours of the morning. Their energy made him feel old. He was only thirty-two.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirrored surface of the table and grinned. The hairpiece was a perfect nondescript shade of brown, meant to stay in place in a hurricane. Dark brown contacts and matching beard applied with spirit gum completed his club-hopping persona. The patterned silk shirt was a nice change, but green was definitely not his preferred color. He’d had enough green in his wardrobe for the last ten years.

The worst thing about the evening’s attire had to be the lifts in his shoes. They added an inch or so to his height of five-foot-eleven inches, but they made his arches ache. He never knew how women could stand to wear high heels for hours at a time, though he loved the look of a long silky leg and calf-tightening high heels. Having had to don heels a time or two in his career, Kurt would have to say women deserved a medal for wearing them.

He knew most people described him as an imposing man. Kurt didn’t understand where they got that from. It had to be attitude. Despite his broad shoulders, he wasn’t bulky or overly muscled, but whipcord lean like a gymnast, each muscle rock hard and strong. Oddly enough, people could never quite remember his exact eye color or shade of hair. A definite plus in his business and Kurt preferred it that way. It meant he was doing his job, and his job was to blend in, never look the same. As a Naval Criminal Investigative Service officer, he had to find criminals and get the goods on them. Most times that meant going undercover.

Kurt enjoyed his work and believed that what he did was important for the integrity of the military, as well as the civilian community. In many ways, his job was an intensely personal quest for justice. Investigating crimes and felons was difficult and often dangerous, but he craved the thrill of the hunt and the challenge of finding the perpetrator before he himself was discovered.

Where have the years gone?

It seemed like yesterday he was a sophomore at University of Southern California, depressed over having lost another acting gig. He was ready to chuck it all when the school’s Marine Corps recruiter snagged him for a cup of coffee. New options opened up to him, appealing not only to the patriot in Kurt, but the thrill of challenge. College, Officer’s Candidate School, Basic School, and he was a second lieutenant. He wanted challenge and he found it, then he drifted to something even more intriguing—something his theatrical training seemed made for.

It happened when he was attached to a provost marshal unit during operations in Somalia and became involved in investigating crimes committed by military units stationed in the area. It was like putting puzzle pieces together. No, better than that—uncovering the pieces,then assembling them. Kurt couldn’t get enough. After six years of active duty, he resigned his position of Deputy Provost Marshal and his commission as a captain in the Corps, then took a job as a civilian investigator for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service, NCIS.

It was the best of all his worlds. He could serve his country, be involved with the Marine Corps community without having to answer to much of the bureaucracy that defined the military structure, and flex his acting muscles.

It led to some great adventures. That’s also how he’d met his closest friends, Zach and Claudia Taylor. Odd how the world maneuvered people together.

"What can I get you to drink?" The waitress interrupted his trip down memory lane as she inched her way among the dimly-lit tables. She twisted and narrowly avoided getting bumped by two giggling women with enormous margarita glasses.

"Whatever’s on tap." Kurt searched in his jeans pocket for some money. "Thanks. Keep the change." He handed the harried woman a handful of bills and she sidled off as fast as the limited space would allow.

One of the margarita drinkers eased up to his table, tracing dagger-length silver fingernails along its edge.

"Don’cha know it ain’t good to drink alone?" Each word slurred. Her eyes were glassy. "We think a good lookin’ guy like you should have some company." She offered up an inebriated grin and angled her chest so her generous cleavage was exposed to its best advantage.

Her companion leaned heavily on Kurt’s left arm, sloshing her red concoction out of its glass and forming a puddle on his table’s chrome surface. The air was suddenly redolent with the sickly sweet smell of strawberries and tequila.

"Yeah, baby, you look like you could take care of us both, no problemo."

She lurched at Kurt’s silk shirt, yanked up the material, and exposed his stomach. Both women gasped, giggled, then pursed their lips as they oohed and aahed.

"Yum, yum," Fingernails said. "A six-pack." She reached over to stroke Kurt’s stomach.

With viper-like reflexes he intercepted her wrist, holding it immobile.

"Sorry, ladies, I’m already taken." He added a phony smile, turned on the charm, and stroked the molester’s hand with his thumb. "And she’s very possessive."

He slipped on his role of the regretful, but appreciative, boyfriend. It settled over him like a comfortable shoe, well-worn and familiar.

"Too bad, hon. You look like more man than one woman could handle." They both cackled like witches over a cauldron.

After several more refusals, the two women pouted and made obligatory noises of disappointment, then wove unsteadily back to their table, drinks in hand.

Kurt sighed. Undercover work wasn’t sitting in a car with a sack of donuts, waiting for the perpetrator to show. Sometimes, things got a little unseemly.

He smiled to himself. Jess Alderman would love to hear aboutthis little undercover incident. Instead of finding thefemme fatale of the desert, the intrepid hero ends up getting harassed and groped by a pair of drunken bimbos. Some things just weren’t covered in NCIS training classes.

Six young Marines at the bar began a boisterous beer chug. One sunburned contestant gulped what looked like a gallon of beer in a yardarm. His buddies pounded the bar in time with each gulp and broke into a roar when the last of the foamy brew slid down his throat. Kurt thought of the hangover to follow and winced. It hadn’t been long since he had been at bars like this one, playing the same stupid games with his buddies and paying the price the next morning. Thank God he’d gotten beyond that point in his

life.

The waitress reappeared, bringing a frosted pint glass of beer and a small dish of pretzels. She smiled as she set the glass on top of a bar napkin inscribed with the palm tree logo of the Lost Oasis Dance Club.

"Enjoy, hon. Give me a holler if you need another." She sidled her way toward the next table, order pad ready.

Kurt took a pull of his beer and made a face.Flat. Damn. He started to raise his hand to signal the waitress for another when he sawher step into the club’s entryway, red hair shimmering in the club lights like a flame. It had to be her. The description was too perfect to be anyone else. He smiled.

Showtime.

***

"I can’t believe it took us so long to get here," Susan shouted over the music. She pulled Ellie through the crush of people toward the short flight of stairs leading up to the bar that overlooked the dance floor. "If you hadn’t been so pokey earlier getting dressed, we would have been here before the crowd."

"Cinder-Ellie was almost late getting to the ball," Jeremy quipped behind them.

Ellie stumbled. "Will you slow down?" she yelled at Susan’s shoulder. "You know I can’t see a damn thing."

Jeremy assisted her from behind with a helpful hand to her bottom. She twisted away from Susan and swatted hard, hitting only air.

Jeremy shrugged his hefty shoulders and offered an unrepentant grin as if to say, "Hey, don’t blame me for trying."

They pushed their way up the broad stairs to the bar, weaving between laughing, shouting customers. Susan seemed to know half the crowd, and kept pointing and waving at people Ellie couldn’t see clearly. The light was incredibly dim. It felt like being in a walk-in closet with four hundred strangers.

She plastered a smile on her face and silently cursed Susan for convincing her to leave the house without her glasses. Contacts were sounding better and better. She stepped carefully over a pair of long male legs that threatened her progress. She glanced up at their bearded owner, ready to offer an apology.

"Over here!" Jeremy hovered protectively by a nearby chrome table overlooking the dance floor. With a sweep of his arm, he motioned them over.

"Where do we sit?" Ellie squinted around. All the chairs were taken. Just her luck. The high heels were killing her feet. They throbbed with every beat of her heart.

"I’ll snag some after I get us a few drinks." Jeremy’s fading voice indicated he was already making a beeline for the bar.

"Isn’t the music great?" Susan danced around the edge of the table and leaned over the railing that separated the bar from the short drop to the dance floor. "I can’t wait to get out there."

Her swaying bottom and exuberant expression attracted the attention of the bearded man sitting by himself at the next table. Ellie was embarrassed for her friend.

"Susan," she pushed out through clenched teeth. "Stop wiggling. You look like a three-year-old with a bad case of the itch."

Susan ignored her and continued to bounce to the beat of the band. The jumpsuit showed off her body like a second skin.

"Drinks are here." Jeremy returned triumphantly, carrying three beers and a small bar tray loaded with shot glasses brimming with a gold liquid. "Drink up, ladies! A toast to our birthday girl—wishing her a

successful evening."

He raised his shot glass, threw the contents back into his throat, then slapped the empty glass down on the table and took a long swig of beer. "Aaah. Tequila," he said with a sigh of the deeply satisfied. He leaned close to Ellie’s face and gave her a sweet, slightly strained grin. "Happy birthday, Ellie."

She and Susan took their shot glasses and clinked the rims.

"To adventure," Susan said with a grin.

Ellie raised her glass. "To adventure, and to men who’ll keep us in the style to which we’d like to become accustomed."

She tossed back the tequila. Before the flaming liquid could completely incinerate her throat, she took a long pull at her beer.

They stood at the table laughing and drinking shots of tequila while a new band set up on stage. It wasn’t long before Ellie started to feel lightheaded. Still, it did feel good to be out of her normal, boring lifestyle; to pretend she was someone else for a change. She felt free to act on her whims and be impulsive for a change.

"You’re right, Jeremy. I am Cinder-Ellie, and that makes you my fairy godfather." She laughed and fluttered her fingers at him playfully. One hand swung wide and knocked her new black purse off the table onto the floor. She ducked down to pick it up. When she stood again, purse in hand, Jeremy and Susan were halfway to the dance floor and the growing crescendo of the new set.

"Wait!" she shouted. "Where are you—"

"Excuse me." A strong Texas drawl drifted over her shoulder. "Since your friends left you, would you like to come over to the bar and sit with us?"

Ellie opened her eyes wide and tried to focus on the blurred face. He seemed to be a Marine by the look of his short, cropped hair. He was wearing a God-awful shirt in clashing colors of red, purple, and yellow that seemed to have palm trees patterned all over it. Unfortunately, her eyesight wasn’t poor enough to block out the incompatible colors, so she tried to concentrate on his face instead.

"Come on over and sit with us, ma’am." He tugged at her elbow. "My buddy and me are saving a seat for you."

She wavered. Her feet were starting to really complain, and after two shots of tequila and a beer, a sit-down sounded welcome. He wasn’t familiar to her, and even if he did work somewhere in her office, no casual acquaintance could possibly recognize her in her current get-up.

"Thank you, I will." Ellie flashed a tentative smile in his direction.

She’d show Susan and Jeremy. If they could have fun, so could she. This guy wouldn’t be any different than the Marines she worked with every day. Most of them were good guys, all in all. Adventure, right? That was the plan for the evening.

He grabbed her hand with his hot, sweaty palm and pulled her along through the tables to the bar. Finally, they reached the bar. There was indeed a stool waiting for her there, but it was surrounded by a crowd of Marines playing a game of quarters with jiggers of rum.

"Here she is, guys!" her escort crowed. "I told you I could get her to come over here. Now, Clark, you pony up the ten-spot you owe me."

Ellie stopped dead in her tracks. "You bet them you could get me to come over here?"

She was horrified at the thought of being the object of a wager. This was a horrible mistake. She should have waited at the table for Susan and Jeremy.

I can’t believe this.

"You don’t get the cash until she sits on your lap, McConnell," one of the men shouted with a drunken leer.

"C’mon, honey." McConnell snagged her wrist. "Come sit on daddy’s lap."

The group started whistling and catcalling, urging McConnell to pick Ellie up and toss her over his shoulder.

"Where I’m from, a girl like you needs a strong man to keep her in line." Her captor tugged again on her waist.

She set her jaw, braced her heels, and yanked herself free of his grasp. "No way, jerk face."

Finding an opening in the tables, she scrambled away from the bar, trying to get as far from the gamesters as possible. McConnell shouted after her. She hastened her step, praying he wouldn’t catch her.

Ellie ran blindly, weaving between the tables and people as they loomed out of the darkness. A rail and flashing lights told her she had reached the steps leading down to the dance floor.

Where was her table? Where were Jeremy and Susan? She couldn’t see! She started down the steps and reached the edge of the mass of gyrating dancers.

The noise was tremendous—screaming guitars and thunderous drums. The cigarette smoke was pervasive, and her eyes watered from the unfamiliar, bitter stench. Obviously no one enforced the no smoking ban here. A thousand different perfumes and colognes underlaid the smoke, each one vying for dominance, all blending together in a heady mix that smelled of sex and sweat. Panic threatened to overtake her.

"Jeremy… Susan!"

Shouting over the noise was impossible. She turned left, right. Faces and bodies pressed up against her, each one an indistinct mass. Fear rose. She was blind without her glasses. Where was Susan?

A strong, warm hand grabbed her upper arm.

Jeremy. She sighed with relief and turned to him with a smile.

"I thought you’d never find me. I’m sorry I swatted at you for putting your hand on my butt—"

"That wasn’t my hand on your butt." A hint of laughter edged the warm masculine voice. "But I suppose I could oblige if you’re interested."

Ellie froze, her smile plastered in place. She realized that the masculine shape in front of her was too tall for Jeremy—way too tall. She fought to come up with a cutting put-down, like one of the heroines in her romance novels.

Nothing came to mind, and she took a giant step away from the male heat that surrounded her. The high red stilettos refused to cooperate with her body’s demands. She found herself falling backwards for the second time that evening.

The man grabbed her waist and yanked her upright, clamping her firmly against his hard thighs. She clutched his massive shoulders, overwhelmed by the speed at which he had moved and horrified at the thought of sprawling in front of everyone on the dance floor. Oddly enough, in that moment, she noticed how clean he smelled. It cut through the haze of smoke and booze, slightly spicy and exotic.Sandalwood?

Her heart raced in time with the beat of those drums, her legs trembled, but overlying everything was a strange twist of desire low in her body. His firm hips pressed against hers creating a flash of heat that made her gasp. She peered at his face. It was the bearded man from the bar. The one who had been watching Susan dance.

"Are you all right?"

"Hey, buddy, she’s with me." McConnell and his pal Clark stood behind her rescuer, their stances aggressive.

The man straightened slowly, rising to his full height, which was considerably above that of the two Marines. He turned toward them, keeping Ellie clasped protectively to his chest.

"I think this lady has had enough of you and your drinking games." His words were calm, measured, and no nonsense.

Ellie nodded in agreement.

"Listen, baby," McConnell pleaded above the lead singer’s ear-shattering crescendo. "We were just kidding. Come on back to the bar with us and we can get to know each other. Hands off, I promise. No more fooling around." He swayed as he spoke, a victim of his excesses.

"No." Ellie prayed her voice was firm and no telltale quiver gave away her concern. " I’m not interested. Go away."

"You heard her, gentlemen. Leave."

Something in the man’s stance, the tone of his voice, made the two Marines pause rather than continue to pursue the issue. Giving each other a look, they turned and left.

The muscles beneath her fingertips shifted as he turned again to face her. "We’ll have to keep an eye out for those two. They don’t seem like they give up easily. Are you all right? They didn’t seem your type…or were they?"

His hair was brown and combed flat against his head. A short, neat beard added sophistication. Dark eyes looked down at her with concern.

"No, no," Ellie reassured him, distracted by his rakish good looks. "I don’t even know them." She flushed, knowing how naive she sounded. "I mean, they were playing a game with me and I was too stupid to realize it."

He paused. "I would’ve thought a woman would be flattered to have the attentions of two military men."

"Those two don’t exactly match my priority list."

"And just what qualitiesdo fit this list of yours?"

"Ellie, are you okay?" Susan’s panicked voice rushed up behind her. "Jeremy and I just wanted to get out and dance for a while. We shouldn’t have left you alone. And then those jarheads were bothering you. I’m sorry."

Ellie dropped her hands from the broad shoulders and pulled away. Her fingertips tingled, branded with the feel of warm, taut muscles.

"Ellie’s fine. I think it was a case of mistaken identity." Her rescuer’s voice was low, but carried over the crowd noise with ease. "I don’t think they’ll be returning to bother anyone."

"Thanks to you." She stared into his dark eyes and tried to say more, to say anything that would prolong this moment, but her heart was pounding so hard, she could only manage a small smile. She berated herself for her tongue-tied inability to flirt.

Susan started walking toward the stairs. "I can see you’re going to have to be watched every second. You’re blind as a bat and helpless as a newborn kitten."

"I’d like to ask your friend for a dance, if you don’t mind." He halted Ellie’s retreat with a gentle touch to her shoulder, then stepped closer and repeated himself. "I’d like to dance with you."

Susan gave her a look, the one that said, "Let me know right now if you need rescuing."

Adventure—remember this night is supposed to be about adventure. "I’d love to dance with you…" She halted, waiting.

"Kurt." He smiled. "My name is Kurt."

"It’s nice to meet you, Kurt." She smiled back.

"Have fun, you two." Susan stared at him for a long moment, then gave a small smile and disappeared into the crowd.

He led her to the center of the dance floor, directly underneath the largest twirling globe. The reflections from a thousand multicolored lights flowed over them like a rainbow of fire. The music was a fast samba beat, demanding that the listeners give themselves over to the rhythm.

At first, Ellie wasn’t sure she would be able to keep up with her partner. Her dancing skills were sadly lacking. Kurt’s sinuous grace and easy style more than made up for her lack of experience, and she found herself moving naturally, and to her surprise, gracefully.

Dancing had never been a pleasure for her before. As a tall, gangly teenager, she hadn’t dated enough to become at ease on the dance floor. But now? Her long, red hair swirled around them like a crimson silk curtain as she spun in the circle of Kurt’s arms. Dance after dance, each more magical than the last. Ellie felt energized, liberated.

The Latin music slid into a slow, intimate love song. The club lights dimmed low, men and women formed couples in the shadows, figures backlit by the few lamps beneath the edges of the dance floor.

Ellie stopped, unsure. Would he want to keep dancing, or more likely, use this transition as a polite excuse to leave the floor? Surely a total stranger wouldn’t want to slow dance with her.

To her surprise, Kurt gathered her close, his strong hands at the small of her back. She could feel their warmth on the bare skin exposed between the silken top and her leather skirt. Hesitating for a moment, she slid her hands up the front of his soft silk shirt and let her fingers rest lightly on the tops of his shoulders.

He looked at her, his eyes dark pools in the pale shadow of his face. "This is all right, isn’t it?" he asked.

Her heels put them both at about the same level and she realized how very intimate it was to dance with someone her own height.

She nodded and relaxed against his chest.

The music rolled over them in waves of sensuous longing. They moved slowly in a gentle circle, while Kurt’s skill kept them from brushing up against the other oblivious couples. Each movement of his hips brought them lightly together, sending waves of sharp awareness through her body.

Ellie bit her lip, trying not to shiver with the force of her new feelings.Say something .Say anything, before you burn up in a puff of sexual energy . "You’re an excellent dancer."

"Thank my little sister," he replied, a hint of humor note in his voice.

"Pardon?" She glanced up, but could only see the side of his jaw. The beard cloaked his face in velvety darkness.

"My sister insisted I learn how to dance because she felt that men who danced well were true gentlemen." Humor again edged his tone.

"She must be proud of how well you dance now." Ellie offered another smile. "Does she live around here?"

"No," he replied bluntly in a flat voice that brooked no more questions.

Ellie winced. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry."

Kurt said nothing, just spun them slowly toward the edge of the dancing couples, closer to the exit, so when the song finally stopped, they were near the stairway leading up to the bar. Then he stepped away.

Good job, Ellie.You finally find a man who is nice and polite and can even dance, and you start asking personal questions.

"Thank you for dancing with me." Nothing like going from wonderful to feeling awkward and embarrassed. Turning, she started to climb the stairs, looking around the seated tables for Jeremy and Susan.

"Where are you going?" He moved up beside her. "I was hoping you’d sit and have a drink with me. I don’t know about your feet in those beautiful shoes, but my poor old dogs are killing me."

He held out one hand to her.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "That would be really nice, thanks."

She accepted his hand and he escorted her to a small, dark table for two. They ordered wine and they talked about everyday things…safe things.

***

Kurt decided she really was strikingly beautiful. The Marines hadn’t exaggerated. But if even half of what he’d heard about her was true, she had the soul of a viper. He offered up a smile and ordered Ellie another glass of wine.

Ellie.A rather pedestrian name for a sexual predator.

She laughed. "I’m getting more than a little lightheaded. Just one more, then I’ve had my limit." She crossed one long leg over the other.

From his vantage point, Kurt caught a glimpse of black lace grazing the top of her shapely thigh. No panty hose for this lady; she wore thigh highs.

What better to tempt a man?

The mini-skirt fit like a second skin and left nothing to his imagination. When she sat, it inched up and he found himself interested in seeing what lay in the dark shadow above the lace. Crossing her legs was, he knew, a deliberate ploy to draw his eyes to her obvious charms. Very well, he’d match her opening gambit with one of his own.

Reaching out, he gently picked up her left wrist from where it rested on the table, turned it over and traced the outline of her slender fingers with his thumb.

She flushed and fanned her free hand against the hollow of her slim throat.

"Would you like to step outside for a few minutes?" He looked at her face, all curves and shadows in the half-light of the bar. He wished he could see the expression in her eyes more clearly, but the light was too dim. "The smoke is getting to me and I wouldn’t mind getting some fresh air."

She hesitated. He could sense her indecision, so he turned on his most magnetic grin. "We can stand next to the door if you feel uncomfortable being alone with me. I promise I won’t ask you to sit on my lap."

She laughed, relaxed, and nodded.

For a cold-hearted bitch, she had a nice laugh—strong and clear. It wouldn’t save her this time, though.

After retrieving their jackets from the coat check, he escorted her out to the front entryway where they had their hands stamped with the Oasis palm tree logo that permitted reentry. Stepping outside into the cool desert air, they walked along the front of the building over to a few stone benches that had been placed outside for those people waiting for cabs.

The air was crisp and smelled of dry sagebrush and spicy desert creosote. The crescent moon rode high, a thin icy sliver in the air. It was a perfect night for seduction.

Kurt’s conversation flowed as easily as his dancing. He drew her out with skill, inquired about her likes and dislikes in movies and food. Asked if she had any pets and feigned interest in her cat.

"You must be a spy," she said with a hint of a laugh.

"What?" He tensed. His friendly mask slipped. "Why do you say that?"

Ellie shyly averted her gaze. "I mean, you really have the ability to put people at their ease and get them to talk with you. I’m not usually this chatty."

Kurt relaxed and forced his persona more firmly into place. He’d have to be more careful. She was a little tipsy, but still pretty astute. Perhaps he needed something to throw her off balance.

Leaning over, he slowly dusted his lips across hers, letting the warmth of his breath steal across her mouth like a caress.

Her huge eyes flew open in surprise.

He waited.

With a small sigh of pleasure, she relaxed and offered her mouth to him.

He tasted her with the care of an explorer mapping a new territory for the first time. A brush of his tongue over her lower lip, just touching the pearly teeth behind. She tasted of warm wine and sweetness.

Ellie made a small noise of pleasure deep in her throat, then sat up abruptly.

"It’s getting late." She tilted her head. Her hair covered her face so he couldn’t read her expression. "I really need to find my friends so I can get a ride home."

Kurt wondered if she was as skilled a tease as she seemed. He had to learn her last name or even better, find out where she lived.

"Why don’t you wait here? I’ll go back inside and tell your girlfriend you’re ready to go." He cupped her knee. "You shouldn’t have to go back into that mob. It’ll just take me a minute or two, okay?"

Relief softened her face. "Yes, thank you. The smoke was really getting to me."

Kurt walked back inside, showing his stamp at the door to the bouncer who greeted him by name. He didn’t go looking for the woman who had accompanied Ellie. Instead, he walked around the corner to the coatroom, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed.

"Jess? Kurt. Yes. She’s here. She’s a real tease all right, trying to put me in the role of protector."

He rubbed his aching thigh while Jess rambled off the instructions Kurt knew all too well. Too much dancing had put a strain on the scarred muscles.

"Fine, fine. No, I haven’t gotten her last name yet, but I’m going to try to take her home. That should allow us to back trace her full name from her residence. I’ll see you tomorrow."

He hung up and checked his watch. Enough time had passed to make it plausible he had searched the club for Ellie’s companion. He walked back outside, shaking his head, and put apology into his voice.

"I’m sorry, I can’t find her anywhere. I think they may have left. Why don’t I just give you a ride home? It isn’t any problem."

Ellie looked undecided. She tightened her arms around herself in the cool night air.

"It really isn’t any trouble," he assured her. "I don’t mind giving a ride to you, and if you want to make sure I’m not a serial killer, you can go ask Dougie the bouncer over there. He knows who I am and will vouch for me."

She nodded and smiled. "You’re right. I’m just feeling a little cautious. Thanks, Kurt. You’ve been so nice to me tonight, I feel lucky to have met you."

Luck had nothing to do with it, sweetheart.

Chapter 3

"Eleanor!"

Bernadette McFee’s shrill voice pierced Ellie’s cocoon of sleep, echoing up to her quiet bedroom from

the living room below.

"Eleanor, I’m borrowing your Walkman."

The voice drew nearer. She was coming up the stairs. Nothing fazed the woman. Privacy was a foreign word to her.

"Eleanor, this is very inconveniencing for me. I know you’re still here. I saw your car in the garage."

Ellie opened her gummy lids a crack and peered out. The petite blonde breezed into Ellie’s bedroom and picked her way through piles of dropped party clothing as if afraid mere contact with them would soil her expensive linen suit and silk blouse.

She groaned, glanced at her bedside clock, and tried to turtle back under the warm bedclothes. Being around her neighbor and landlord was a painful experience, even under the best of circumstances, but especially so at 7:40 in the morning when she had a pounding headache.

7:40 in the morning!

She was late for work!

"Ohmigod!" She leaped from bed, scattering pillows and ignoring the affronted Bernadette as she grabbed her glasses from the night stand and dove into the walk-in closet.

No time for a shower.

If she wasn’t in the courtroom in twenty minutes, the judge would crucify her. She was never late—never! But the late night coupled with lingering images of Kurt made her forget to set her alarm. Or perhaps she’d slept through it.

"This room smells terrible." Bernadette’s shrill voice filtered in through the closet door. "Like an ashtray. If the carpeting absorbs the odor, I’m going to have to charge you for a cleaning service."

Ellie yanked off her nightshirt, grabbed a clean pair of underpants and bra, then fumbled around on the floor of her closet for an olive drab T-shirt. Her shapeless camouflage uniform was hanging on a hook, waiting to be ironed. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The T-shirt wasn’t clean and her uniform was creased. She’d planned to do her laundry before Susan and Jeremy arrived, but everything got so hectic, that little domestic detail had slipped her mind.

"Eleanor, you aren’t paying attention."

Would Bernadette’s rambling tirade ever cease? Why didn’t she just go home?

"I said I was looking for that Walkman I saw you with yesterday."

"On the windowsill." Ellie burst out of the closet, buttoning her cammie blouse with one hand and her trousers with the other. She groped underneath the bed for her heavy black military boots. At least they were clean and polished. One positive thing in her favor.

"You got in late last night." Bernadette’s china doll blue eyes narrowed her way. One immaculately manicured finger toyed with the red wig Ellie had dropped on the dresser in her desire to get into bed. "And what is this, pray tell?"

Ellie’s mind raced. She had to get out of the house now or she’d be late for work. She also had no intention of telling her prying bitch of a landlady anything about the previous night’s big adventure.

"It’s a prop wig for my church’s upcoming Christmas pageant." She twisted her unruly dark curls into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and grabbed her car keys off the dresser. "I have to go now. Good-bye."

"And I saw a man dropping you off at the door." Bernadette stayed rooted to her spot, blocking Ellie’s exit. "I don’t seem to remember you mentioning having a brother who lives around here. Are you"—she

smirked—"seeing anyone, perhaps? Or what is the polite term for that sort of activity these days?"

Ellie snarled inwardly.Interfering witch. One day, she was going to get up the guts to tell Miss Priss where to go. Instead, she ignored the woman and edged around her.

Bernadette trotted down the stairs after her. "I can take a hint." She paused near the door and looked Ellie up and down. "You know, late nights don’t seem to agree with you, but then, I suppose you know that from previous experience." With that remark, the woman made her exit.

Ellie noticed Bernadette had left the Walkman on the windowsill. She had probably never wanted it in the first place. Bernadette’s idea of exercise was an all-day shopping spree in one of Palm Springs’ exclusive boutiques.

The condo’s rent was pretty reasonable, but the fact Bernadette used her landlord’s pass key to visit Ellie whenever she needed something—a bottle of wine, a magazine, food—really irked Ellie. She valued her privacy above all things.

7:45. Damn, damn, damn.

She fumbled her way through her dark, book-piled living room and into her tiny kitchen. Ellie rifled the pantry for the box of cat chow and shook a cupful into Hades’ bowl, ignoring his look of feline disgust.

"Don’t start with me, cat," she muttered. "I’m having a very bad morning." She scooped her wallet off the kitchen table and tried not to look at her watch again.

The garage she shared with Bernadette’s adjoining condominium was quiet; no sign of her nosy neighbor.Thank goodness for small favors. Bernadette was probably calling one of her cronies to report the incident.

Ellie punched the button for the garage door opener, started up her old red Volkswagen bug and backed out with a roar, careful not to get too near Bernadette’s new Thunderbird convertible. One scratch and she’d be in small claims court for sure.

Susan was always threatening to tell Bernadette off for her, but Ellie didn’t want to have to move. She liked living close to work, and the condo was snug and homey with lots of room for her books and window ledges for Hades to perch upon.

Susan. Some friend she turned out to be.How could she and Jeremy just leave the club without her? Did they have any idea how uncomfortable she was accepting a ride home from a stranger? Okay, so he was a good looking, charming stranger, but he was still a stranger.

Fuming, she sped down the road. Her little car’s wheels squealed around the corner. Howdare they run off and leave her to fend for herself? She squeezed the metal horn lever. Her Bug emitted a series of sharp, angry bleats. A jack rabbit darted for cover beneath a smoke tree. The release felt good. She gripped the horn again. Susan was going to get an earful from her at lunch.

Ellie checked her watch.7:55. She wasn’t going to make it.

She wheeled onto the main thoroughfare leading straight to the Twentynine Palms Marine Corps Base. At this rate, she’d be lucky if a cop didn’t pull her over. She accelerated to the guard gate, breaking hard at the last second.

The armed military policeman on duty extended one hand for her ID card. He looked at her photo, then squinted at her face.

"Doesn’t look much like you." He snickered. "Nice hairdo, Staff Sergeant." Then he waved her through the gate.

Shocked and confused, Ellie eased into the base traffic. Speeding here was not an option—the military police were far more diligent. At the stop light she turned the rearview mirror toward herself to see what sentry was talking about.

Horrors! Her hair looked like a rat’s nest, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from the club’s smoky air, and she still had remnants of last night’s makeup job smudged onto her face.

"Great. Just great. I look like a train wreck." Steering with one hand, she tried to wipe the mess away with a tissue. It was hopeless. There weren’t enough Kleenex in the world to clean her face. She shook her head, turned the mirror away, and tried not to think about her less-than-stellar appearance.

At exactly 8:00, she skidded into a parking spot at the Office of the Staff Judge Advocate, parked, and sprinted for the door.

It was an unusually busy Friday morning. Marine clerks criss-crossed the long hallway, ducking between offices, carrying paperwork and delivering case files. Two civilian defense attorneys, preparing to meet with their military clients in the defense counsel’s chambers, paced impatiently in the reception area, waiting for the military police to deliver the accuseds.

Ellie sped down the corridor, ignored her gaping coworkers hovering around the coffee pot and headed straight for the courtroom at the end of the long building.

8:01. Late.

Maybe they hadn’t started on time. Maybe the judge was still in his chambers. She opened the door and cringed.

Lieutenant Colonel Epstein sat in the judge’s chair, twirling his silver Cross pen between two fingers. He raised his head and glared as she slid through the courtroom door and hurried to the court reporter’s station located directly in front of and below the judge’s box.

"Staff Sergeant Severance, so nice of you to join us." Judge Epstein’s voice carried across the entire width of the courtroom with quiet, deadly precision.

Ellie forced emotion from her face as she stood ramrod straight at her station. "Sorry, sir."

From the corner of her eye she saw the prosecutor and the defense counsel had broken off their discussion with one of the base NCIS agents to watch the interplay between her and the judge.

"Thank you for gracing us with your presence this morning. If it isn’t too much of an imposition on your time, I’d like to commence with the court-martial."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." Were her cheeks as red as they felt? "I apologize to you and to the rest of the courtroom for my lapse."

He eyed her for a moment, then nodded. "This tardiness hasn’t happened before, and I realize you’re new here to the base, but I encourage you to be on time for my court in the future." His mouth tightened as he looked her up and down. "Also, Staff Sergeant, next time you’re in here, I expect you to be looking like a Marine, not a bag lady."

"Yes, sir." She took her seat, spine rigid, nearly blind with shame. Faint snorts of laughter drifted from the bailiff and from the first sergeant who attended the proceedings as a representative for the accused’s command.

Ellie gritted her teeth, and as the judge called the courtroom to order, began the recording procedures. She had no one to blame but herself. It had been pure carelessness on her part not to have prepared her uniform the night before and double-checked her alarm. As a staff sergeant, she knew better; she had to be on top of things. She wasn’t a raw recruit. There was no excuse for her action.

The morning dragged on interminably. The accused made his plea for leniency in the face of the larceny charges brought against him by the government prosecutor. The young man had been caught pilfering calling cards from the convenience store on base. By the time 11:30 rolled around and the final morning witness testified, Ellie was exhausted and only wanted to take her lunch so she could go home, shower, and fix her crumpled uniform.

At last, Judge Epstein called a halt to the proceedings. "We will continue this court after lunch. Be back here promptly at 1300." He sliced his gaze Ellie’s way. "That’s one o’clock in the afternoon, Staff Sergeant Severance, just in case you forget." He raised one bushy gray eyebrow slightly to take the bite from his words. "Dismissed."

Ellie shoved her sliding glasses up her nose. Time to get the heck out of here and get clean. She walked to the doors, cutting in front of First Sergeant Yost and NCIS Agent Duncan in her haste to get escape.

"Easy there, Severance." Yost’s weathered face was slightly sunburned from a recent training exercise out in the desert with his tank battalion. "You all fired up to get back to the Oasis?" He gestured at the distinctive ink stamp still visible on her hand. "I wouldn’t have thought it was your type of place. Did you wander in there by mistake and fall asleep reading one of your books." He laughed a long loud bray that turned heads all around.

Ellie said nothing, hoping the jocular Yost would forget about this morning’s tardiness and not keep reminding her of her public embarrassment. She’d met him a few times before. He was the type of man who continued to joke about other people’s humiliating moments over and over again. She could only hope he got transferred to a remote location where she wouldn’t have to work with him ever again. Diego Garcia Island in the middle of the Indian Ocean would be great. The moon—even better.

His broad southern drawl dragged on as she walked away.

"She’s a fine court reporter, that Staff Sergeant Severance, but an odd bird. Kind of shy, y’all know what I mean? Tall, gawky gal, walks around like she’s trying to hide all of the time. Don’t understand why she’s in the Corps, myself."

The reply from the NCIS agent was low, but audible. "What she lacks in personality she more than makes up for in body odor. Did you smell her? I’m surprised the judge didn’t order her to report to the shower. Reeks of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume. Must have skated through personal hygiene in boot camp."

Ellie jerked to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

Coworkers paused in the corridor and stood wide-eyed, waiting for her response.

She had had enough. Yost’s comment was typical, but Agent Duncan’s comment was unexpected. True, they’d had more than their share of run-ins since she’d arrived, but he had never attacked her in public this way—never attacked her personally. This went way beyond the jabs and snide comments they normally flung at each other. His unnecessary cruelty only fueled the simmering anger inside.

Ellie whipped around to face Yost and Duncan, halting them in their tracks. "I may not be a fashion model, but I have manners enough not to bad mouth someone behind their back. If you’ve got something

to say, say it to my face."

Arms stiff at her sides, fists balled, she glared at Yost, then turned her thick-glassed stare on the foulmouthed agent. It was the first time she had ever been up close and personal with him.

She admitted, against her will, that he was an extraordinarily attractive man. About five-foot-eleven with fine, high-boned cheeks that hinted at a drop of American Indian in his blood. His short hair was dark blond, slightly wavy. Ellie always assumed he was an older man, but looking carefully at him face to face for the first time, she saw his age was closer to her own, perhaps a few years older. Most unusual were his eyes, a blue so pale they looked lit from within by a laser. Kind of like a Husky dog’s eyes—an icy, white-blue that had no end. Eyes that watched her now with cool amusement.

Ellie swallowed. Hard.

He waited, head cocked ever so slightly. Ellie would swear he fought a smile. No doubt anything he said now would only rile her more. She hoped he had the sense to keep his mouth shut. All she needed was one more straw and she’d…

"Is there a problem here?" Judge Epstein came up behind Duncan and Yost. An empty coffee cup dangled from his finger and they were between him and his target—the coffee pot down the corridor. "Don’t you folks have any place better to be? Move it."

Ellie didn’t have to be told twice. Her beef with Yost and Duncan would keep until she had time to plan a proper rebuttal. Right now, a hot shower called her name.

She turned her back on the men and marched toward her car. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she thought about Duncan and she shuddered. He was memorable, all right, but in the same category as a caged leopard in the zoo. Beautiful, but dangerous, and quite capable of great bodily harm.

The return trip back to base forty minutes later was much more sedate. And Ellie definitely felt more human. There was a different guard on duty at the gate; one who didn’t pay any special attention to her. Uniform pressed, clean T-shirt, clean body. Blissful anonymity. She sighed happily and pulled up in front of Susan’s favorite lunch spot—Burger King.

Being smoke free and having a freshly ironed uniform put Ellie in a much better mood for giving Susan a piece of her mind. First, she’d chew the woman out for leaving her alone at the club. Then she’d let Susan beg her for details about Kurt.

She got a tiny fission of excitement just thinking about him—the smooth deep rumble of his voice, the soft brush of his lips against her own.

Ellie walked into the busy fast food joint and looked around. People chattered and ate their lunches in a mix of Marines, Naval hospital personnel, and civilian employees.

Susan spotted her first. A wave and a smile drew Ellie’s attention her way. She sat at a square table by herself, a half-eaten Whopper on her tray. As Ellie approached, Susan shooed away two young corpsmen who tried to invade her lunch table. Even in her white Navy uniform—skirt, blouse, and sensible pumps—she still attracted attention from men.

"I am really upset with you." Ellie plopped into the seat across from her.

"Oh come on, hon." Susan rolled her eyes heavenward then leaned closer, arms braced on the table. "You totally hooked up last night, didn’t you? Details, details, girlfriend!"

Her friend’s bouncy enthusiasm was hard to ignore. She tried again, mustering her most severe tone. "I can’t believe you and Jeremy just took off and left me alone last night. That guy could have been an ax murderer or something."

"We didn’t leave you. You went off with Mr. Wonderful and didn’t tellus ," Susan shot back. "Jeremy and I looked all over the club for you, and he told me he couldn’t find you anywhere."

Ellie’s forehead wrinkled with confusion. "You and Jeremy weren’t in the club when Kurt went in to look for you. I had to ask him for a ride home."

Susan sidled closer, dark blue eyes intent upon Ellie. "Is that his name? Kurt? Kurt what?"

"Kurt Orin." It was really hard to stay mad at Susan when Ellie was in a bouncy mood. "He’s a really nice guy. Normal. Not all full of himself. And he’s a great dancer, too."

"Kurt Orin." Susan tapped her finger against her chin and stared into space. "Hmmm. Never heard that name before. He seemed vaguely familiar, though. I just can’t place him. Maybe he’s been at the club before and I just never introduced myself. Is he military? What did you tell him your name was? Did you make one up like Sasha Snugglebunny or something?"

"No." Ellie laughed lightly. "I just told him my name was Ellie, and he didn’t press me when I didn’t give him my last name. I just wanted to be anonymous last night. Big adventure, remember?"

"You are a dark horse, aren’t you? You’re in the club for thirty minutes, hook up with a total babe and talk him into taking you home. What else did you talk him into, hmmm?"

"Nothing else happened." The turn in conversation embarrassed her. Even if something had happened, Ellie would never tell Susan. Stuff like that was, well, private. "He drove me home, walked me up to the door, and said good night."

"He didn’t come inside?"

"Well…" Ellie hesitated, then went on. "Just as far as the living room. He wanted to look around and make sure everything was secure."

"I’m sure he was only interested in your safety." Susan poked her index finger into Ellie’s shoulder. "Probably tried to get you to show him your collection of nighties from Victoria’s Secret."

"If I had any items like that, I don’t think I would show them to some guy I’d just met."Although, he was almost perfect. He’d even held the car door open for her.

"Well, what else did he say?"

Susan seemed determined to drag out every bit of information about Kurt. Ellie remained elusive. Next time she saw Jeremy, she’d questionhim about abandoning ship. Susan had obviously decided not to admit to any wrongdoing.

"Not much. We talked about this and that. Nothing too personal."

"Did he ask you out again?" Susan shoved her tray aside to get closer.

"Well, yes, he did," Ellie announced with a shy grin. "He asked for my telephone number and said he’d like to go out on Saturday evening. So I gave him my new cell number."

"The one your mom forced on you for your birthday? The cell phone youswore you’d never use? I’m surprised you even activated the damn thing. I know how much you hate answering the phone."

"Only when I’m reading, and yes, I did activate it. I had to or she threatened she’d fly out in person and activate it for me herself. Mother thinks she can track me down more easily if I have a cell phone. My answer to her Machiavellian plan is to leave it at home with the ringer turned off. Ha."

"And risk missing a call from your new lover boy?" Susan’s snicker faded fast. "At least now I’ll have a better chance of reaching you and not that damned answering machine. I’m getting sick of having to call you at work."

"Well, you’re still going to have to call me on my work line because I’m not lugging a cell phone around with me all day. I refuse to be at anyone’s beck and call…even lover boy’s, as you so uniquely put it."

That wasn’t entirely true. Ellie would kick herself a million times over if she missed a call from Kurt. She helped herself to one of Susan’s french fries. "The setup for this thing was weird anyway. The phone itself was free, but my mother bought a block of long-distance time for me to use. Kind of like a calling card. When it’s used up, I just buy another block of time."

"With the amount of time you spend on the telephone, you’ll never have to buy any more time," Susan

said.

"Very funny." Ellie made a face and squeezed out a packet of ketchup. "Anyway, that’s the story on Kurt. We have a date."

Susan picked up her burger and bit out a chunk. She chewed slowly, then swallowed. "You’ll need to keep my wig for a while longer. No problem there."

Oh, no, not that scratchy wig."Maybe I shouldn’t wear it for our date."

"No!" She grabbed Ellie’s arm. "You have to wear it."

Heads swivelled their way. Susan gave Ellie an awkward smile and released her.

"Get real. Don’t you think he likes the wig? If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have asked you out again. If you go as the real you, he might get upset, thinking you tried to jerk his chain. Get to know the guy first, then give him the surprise of his life by taking off the wig. You have to get him on the hook, though, and that wig is perfect bait."

Ellie nodded, reluctantly.

Susan grinned. "I guarantee that with my help, after your next date, he won’t be able to stay away from you."

***

Jess Alderman, senior NCIS investigator, reached into his pocket and took out a toothpick. He slid off its cellophane wrapper, then deftly placed it between his teeth at the corner of his mouth. He leaned forward over his battered old desk and laced his big hands together. It was a deliberate pose that made his lanky frame seem unthreatening and approachable.

Good ole boy at work.

It was a trick Kurt had seen Jess use many times when interrogating witnesses. Kurt knew the truth. The real Jess could be as approachable as a great white shark circling its prey.

"So you went to the club looking for a blackmailing prostitute with the idea you could gain her trust and get some valuable information…and you ended up driving her home. Am I getting this straight?" He pushed the toothpick to the other corner of his mouth. "What next, Kurt, are you going to be asking her out for dinner and a movie?"

"Don’t start with me, Jess. I’ve had one bad run-in today, and I’m not in the mood for any more crap."

The older man was baiting him, but Kurt wasn’t interested in playing games. He sat back and waited for Jess to make his next move.

They eyed each other for a minute, then Jess broke the tension. "Look, slick, let me remind you about the last time you went a little too far with your investigations. You ended up getting shot and spending a lot of quality time at the hospital, remember?"

Kurt’s shoulder and thigh twinged with half-remembered pain. His recovery had been long and had involved months of rehabilitation. He refused to argue with Jess about old cases and said nothing.

"You’ve got to stop getting so obsessed with these parts you play." Jess shook a finger at him and put on his lecture face. "If I even suspect you’re taking this woman’s surveillance too far, putting yourself at risk, I will personally pull you off this case and loan you out to PMO for long-term traffic detail. Understand?"

"I’ll do my best to stay as uninvolved as possible." Kurt mustered the most earnest expression he could. "It’s a blackmailing case after all. Nothing too difficult."

That seemed to appease Jess, so Kurt changed the subject. "Why did you call me in here? You know

I’m supposed to be in court today providing testimony."

Jess rolled the toothpick to its original position. "This’ll just take a minute. Another new investigation came up, and I want you and Vic Brownell to start looking into the specifics of the case. It’ll put a lot on your plate, I know, but this one’s important."

Kurt thought Jess looked tired. For all the man’s earlier teasing, his lean face seemed to have developed a score of new lines in the two days since they had met about the Lost Oasis case. The blue eyes that normally snapped and sparked with life were dimmed with worry.

"Do you know what ketamine is?" Jess leaned back, reached into a battered metal file drawer and brought out a manila folder stuffed with papers.

"Isn’t it some sort of club drug? Something the kids use at raves to get high?"

"Yes…and no." Jess opened his folder, checked his notes, and continued. "Ah. Here it is. Ketamine hydrochloride, known on the streets as ‘K,’ Special K, or Vitamin K is a drug used primarily by veterinarians as an anesthetic for small animals"—he waved one hand—"like cats or monkeys. It blocks neuro-receptors in the brain and dulls pain."

"Like PCP," Kurt suggested.

"Exactly like. Unfortunately, it’s also become popular with the club crowd because if inhaled, smoked or injected, it produces a fast, comfortable buzz."

He flipped through the papers, pulled out a yellow page marked with the logo of the DEA and slid it across the desktop to Kurt. "Take a look at this."

Kurt scanned the DEA memo. It had been distributed to the law enforcement agencies and military installations in Southern California. A large shipment of liquid ketamine, destined for veterinary laboratories in Mexico, had been mysteriously diverted to the United States and tracked as far as the

Riverside, California area.

At that point, the agents had lost track of the shipment, but suspected the bulk of the contraband had made its way up to the high desert area surrounding Twentynine Palms and the Marine Corps base.

Jess’ chair creaked as he leaned back. "There have been several vials of the ketamine confiscated by recent DEA sting operations in the Palm Springs area. Testing confirms it’s from the original Mexican shipment. Unfortunately, the bulk of the shipment is still unaccounted for."

"What makes the DEA think local dealers have already hooked into this drug?" Kurt asked. "Why ketamine and not something else, like methamphetamine?"

"K is easy to make and use." Jess rubbed his eyes, another symptom of how tired he was. "The liquid is cooked down in a microwave and the remaining powder is usually inhaled, smoked, or injected. Not as dangerous as meth, by a long shot." He shrugged his shoulders. "The effects of the ketamine are also much less intense as long as the dosage taken is small. Usually, the user feels relaxed or sleepy, with slurred speech, maybe some minor hallucinations. Then the effects are gone in about a half an hour. Anyone could take this stuff and could get by as just being drunk."

"The perfect high."

"Exactly." Jess stifled a yawn. "Excuse me. But it gets worse. It’s cheap to buy—only costs about twenty dollars a hit, around eighty to one hundred dollars for a gram."

"I don’t think we want any of our Marines handling million-dollar equipment high on ketamine," Kurt said.

"We don’t, and neither does the government. And that’s where NCIS comes into the picture." Jess flicked his now-decimated toothpick into the metal trash can next to his desk. "My sources confirm that someone has been distributing powdered ketamine in this area, a lot of which is making its way onto the base." He sighed. "That means someone has purchased the liquid, cooked it down, and packaged it for resale. You need to find out who’s selling the stuff and where they got it from."

"Do you have any suggestions where to start?"

"DEA is sending one of their regional agents up to meet with me tonight. After that we’ll get started, and I’ll bring you and Vic in to meet whoever they send." Jess squinted at Kurt. "At first, I was a little uneasy about having to work so closely with the DEA, but we don’t have much choice."

"Why do you say that?" Kurt asked.

"We think the dealer is a Marine."

Just saying the words seemed to weigh Jess down more than he already was. Kurt supposed he understood how he felt. After over thirty years in the business, Jess was probably tired of always hearing the military was involved. Retirement was probably looking better and better to him.

Kurt leaned forward ready to suggest it once more.

The office door flew open and crashed against the plaster wall before he got the chance. Kurt jumped up, reaching for the pistol under his arm. Streams of dust filtered down from the cracked white ceiling tiles above the desk.

"What the hell?" Coughing, Jess waved his hand in front of his face and shoved to his feet.

Kurt frowned when he recognized the intruder.

Lieutenant Lee Parsons was stocky and built like a boxer. He filled the opening to the hallway as he gripped the doorjamb in a white-knuckled hold that threatened to demolish the wood. The man’s dark eyes were wide and bloodshot, flicking between Jess and Kurt like he didn’t know who to go after first. His body quivered with rage.

Kurt rose up—a smooth, effortless motion that positioned himself between Parsons and Jess. He balanced on the balls of his feet, ready to intercept any sudden moves from their unannounced visitor.

Parsons was big, but Kurt had the martial arts training to bring him down.

"Ease down, both of you." Jess jerked a finger at Parsons. "You. Sit down." He gestured to a second chair facing his desk. "It’s all right, Kurt." He returned to his seat and pinned a thin smile upon his face.

Still tensed and anticipating trouble, Kurt lowered himself onto the edge of his chair, keeping one eye on the agitated Marine. He didn’t trust the twitchy bastard.

"So, Lieutenant…" Jess laced his fingers before him on the desk. "What can we do for you? Are you here to break my door, or provide us with more information related to your case? As I told you last night, Agent Duncan has things well in hand."

"Hell, yeah, he has things in hand." Parsons’ anger turned his deep voice into a growl. "He’s got that blackmailing bitch’s tittie in his hand is what he’s got. Didn’t look to me like he was doing any investigating, unless it was what she had underneath that skimpy top she was wearing."

Jess flicked Kurt a narrow glare but continued to placate Parsons. "I assure you, Lieutenant, Agent Duncan is working for your best interests. He needs to gather more information about this woman, perhaps entice her to become more involved with him, in order to thoroughly expose her blackmailing schemes. He’s not taking this lightly. We have to have sufficient evidence to put her in jail for a long, long time. Not just a slap on the wrist and time served for misdemeanor crimes."

"Just where the hell were you spying on me?" Kurt didn’t bother to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

Parsons shifted on his chair and twisted his military cover between his paw-like hands. He focused his gaze everywhere but on the men he faced. "Last night. Late. I was sitting in my car in the parking lot. Waiting for her. I’ve been waiting there most Thursday and Friday nights for the past couple of weeks, hoping she’d show up."

Patches of red spread from his thick neck up to his cheeks. "My wife thinks I’m working late on a special project for the Chief of Staff. I patch my desk phone though to my cell phone so if she calls me at work, I can pick up right away."

"Clever you." Kurt didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm or his contempt.

"What did you see last night?" Jess asked.

Parsons’ jaw clenched. "I saw that whore arrive around 2200 with a man and another woman. I was parked pretty far back in the lot, and by the time I got out of my car and ran up to the door, they’d gone inside."

Kurt was curious. "Why didn’t you just go in? Confront her in front of everyone?"

Another flush. Another glance away. "The last time I was in the club searching for her, about a week ago, I caused a little bit of a ruckus, and now that fuckin’ bouncer, Dougie, won’t let me in."

He pounded one clenched fist against Jess’ metal desk, knocking paperclips from their bowl. "I swear to God, I’m going to kill her. She thinks she has me by the balls because of one quick hop in the sack. Well, I’m not going to let her do it, do you hear me?"

He whipped around to Kurt. "Then I see you out front later on in the evening, feelin’ her up. Some investigative work."

"Lieutenant Parsons." Jess’ voice commanded the irate man’s attention. "Has she asked for any more money or tried to contact you in any way?"

He shook his head.

"Then, at this point, we have two weeks to come up with the money before she delivers copies of her video to your wife and to your command. That gives us fourteen days to gather enough evidence to solidly convict her in a court of law." He set his jaw. "Between now and then, I suggest you stop lurking around in parking lots and spend more time with your wife and children. It’s almost Christmas, remember?"

Parsons gave a grudging bob of his buzzed head.

"Are you sure you can’t remember where it was she took you the night you had sex?" Kurt asked for what had to be the tenth time.

The lieutenant stared at a spot on the carpet and shook his head. "It was too dark and I was too drunk. Everything was just a blur that night. All the houses and streets in this town look the same." He forced his gaze Kurt’s way. "Believe me, if I could remember where that woman lives, I’d take care of this problem myself."

Jess stood, gesturing toward the door. "Leave the investigating to us, Lieutenant. We don’t need any screw ups at this point, okay?"

Parsons glanced from man to man. Faced with Jess’ implacable reserve and Kurt’s glowering stare, he had no choice but to leave the office, albeit more quietly than he had arrived. The door closed softly behind him.

"Asshole." Kurt slumped loose-limbed into the chair. "So much for happily-ever-after married life. What happened to fidelity? Jerk. I hate men like that. Probably not the first time he screwed around on his wife. Probably won’t be the last."

Jess rubbed his temples as he resumed his seat. "Be that as it may, he’s the only one who’s brought us information about this woman’s blackmailing schemes. I’m sure there have been other Marines fleeced by her, but no one has come forth. We need more than just his word and a verbal threat from her."

"More men too embarrassed to admit they’d been screwing around on their wives. Don’t want to risk being brought up on charges of adultery by their commanding officers." He’d bet they were more embarrassed at having been caught.

"Parsons still maintains he was too drunk to know what he was doing."

Kurt snorted. "If you believe that, I’ve got some swamp land to sell you here in the desert. This isn’t the type of woman you can keep your hands off of."

That raised Jess’ eyebrows. "What I am more concerned with right now is your method of information gathering." He nailed Kurt with a glance. "Don’t screw this up by getting too involved with the suspect."

"Don’t worry, Jess." Kurt stretched and yawned. The late night and early morning were catching up to him. "I’ve got everything well in hand." He grinned. "No pun intended."

"I’m sure." Looked like Jess wasn’t above a little sarcasm himself.

Chapter 4

Ellie paused outside of Bakkman’s Boutique. The clothing in the window was fashionable, but not too outrageous. Outfits that real women might actually wear, not the ragged shreds of nylon and leather that waif-like models touted on the covers of grocery store magazines.

She glanced at her reflection in the store window and sighed. Military cammies had been exchanged for her usual off-duty outfit, a long, comfortable denim skirt paired with a soft, shapeless sweater and her winter coat. Her dark brown curls were pulled back from her face into a pony tail, and she wasn’t wearing any makeup.

Ellie sighed again. As she had told Susan the day before, it was time for a change. In fact, Susan was supposed to be meeting her outside the store, but there was no sign of her. Probably delayed at the hospital.

She checked her watch. There was still time to browse through the clothing before heading over to the bookstore for her shift. Ellie squared her shoulders, stiffened her resolve, and pulled open the glass door. A little bell announced her arrival.

The shop was small and heavily scented with a cloying floral potpourri. Ellie’s nose twitched, but the need for a new outfit far outweighed her distaste. She breathed through her mouth. Now she knew how the courtroom attendees felt when they got a whiff of her eau de cigarette stink.

Unbidden, the humor of the whole morning’s episode struck her. A bubble of laughter arose inside. If she really had wanted to get revenge on Yost and Duncan, she wouldn’t have showered at all, just made sure that she sat very, very close to them for the rest of the day. She laughed aloud.

"May I help you, miss?"

The regal tones of an older woman standing at her elbow so startled Ellie she spun around and knocked into a rack of forest-green silk blouses. With a tinkle and crash of metal, the display tipped over, scattering the garments over the floor like leaves blown from a tree.

"Oh, I am so sorry." Ellie stooped to pick up the blouses. "I didn’t see you there. You startled me."

"Don’t mind those. Stacy will get them." She caught Ellie’s arm and gently urged her to stand. Turning her head toward the back of the tiny store, she called out. "Stacy, I have a job for you. Please come here."

Seconds later a high school girl rushed out.

"Tidy up these tops, will you, please?" The woman waved her bony fingers over the pile.

The girl flashed her boss a pained look and bent to gather up the blouses from the floor.

"And now for you." She clasped her hands and gave Ellie her full attention. "May I help you find

something specific, miss?"

The woman reminded her of a tiny Margaret Thatcher, complete with blue rinse and just about as intimidating. Ellie longed to make a run for it. She would have if the woman weren’t standing between her and the door.

"Um, actually, I need a new outfit for a special evening," she somehow managed to say.

The woman looked her up and down carefully. Her expression indicated she doubted very much that Ellie would be able to find anything in the store similar to her current outfit.

"What type of occasion are we talking about?"

Ellie felt herself becoming flushed. "Well, it’s actually a date, not an event, although my getting a date is in and of itself an event." She closed her mouth before her babble got worse.

The young woman kneeling on the floor made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

"Hmmm," murmured the woman. "I like a challenge, and you certainly fit that category. What size? Ten on the bottom, twelve up top, if I’m guessing correctly," she said before Ellie could reply. "Stand up straight, young woman, and let me get a look at you. That’s right, shoulders back, chest out. With all this bulky clothing you’ve got on, it’s difficult to see you have a shape at all. But you’re a tall girl, and I think there’s more to you than meets the eye."

Ellie considered making another dash for the door, but the forceful clothier already had her upper arm in a grip of steel.

"I think we might have a few items that will do nicely… Stacy, when you’re done with those, please pull out the wine velvet and the charcoal satin suit."

"Right, Mrs. B." The girl straightened the last blouse, then bounced off toward the display racks to Ellie’s

right.

The formidable Mrs. B guided Ellie to the left where a curtained dressing room awaited. "I’m Mrs. Bakkman, by the way. I own this store. Pay no attention to Stacy. She’s got the attention span of a cocker spaniel puppy, but she does set up nice displays." Her thin mouth twisted upwards into a prim smile. "Take off your clothes and I’ll pass the outfits through."

Swept along by the overwhelming force of Mrs. B’s will, all she could do was comply. For all of her bossy mannerisms, the little woman seemed very willing to take Ellie on as her pet project.

As she got down to her underwear and bra, Mrs. B’s hand stabbed through the curtain with two sets of hangers. Ellie hung them up, each on a separate hook in the dressing room, and examined each outfit with curiosity.

The first was a velvet cocktail-length dress with a cowl neck and long, fitted sleeves. The color was a wine red that almost could be considered a shade of burgundy. Ellie stroked the soft material, admiring the simple classic lines.

The second outfit was a black, two-piece suit with tuxedo-style tailoring. The lapels and cuffs were satin, and the jacket’s neckline plunged in a deep "V" that ended at one glittering onyx button. She wasn’t sure this type of tailored look would suit her physique, and searched the hangers for a blouse to go underneath. There was none. Ellie stuck her head outside the curtain and located Stacy rearranging some velour skirts on a nearby rack.

"Excuse me, Stacy," she said.

She turned and smiled. "Yes, can I get you something else?"

"I’m missing the blouse that goes under the satin jacket."

"There isn’t any. The only thing that goes underneath is you." Stacy wagged a finger over her chest.

"Oh." Her lack of fashion acumen was definitely noticeable. Ellie ducked back inside and pulled on the burgundy velvet dress. It hugged her curves and accentuated her breasts.

"Are you doing all right in there?" Mrs. B’s called out. "Once you’ve got one on, step out so I can take a look at you."

Ellie stepped through the curtain and waited for the woman’s reaction.

Mrs. Bakkman just stared, one hand cupped to her face, mouth pursed in thought.

"What do you think?" Ellie asked hesitantly.

"Take your hair out of that silly pony tail, young lady, and I’ll tell you what I think."

Ellie lifted the heavy mass of hair and slid the pony tail band off. Her curls sprang forth in a riotous tumble and cascaded halfway down her back; a few errant twists curved around her face. Her mother was always nagging her to get it cut short so it could be more manageable—tidy was the word she used—but Ellie resisted. She liked the thought of long hair. It reminded her of the heroines in her romance novels. And it was a constant thorn in her mother’s side, which was always a plus.

"Young woman." Mrs. Bakkman clucked her tongue. "You have to be taken in hand. Just look at yourself."

Ellie was startled. She couldn’t look that bad, could she? She pushed her glasses up her nose.

Mrs. B. flicked a hand toward her. "That dress, combined with that cocoa colored hair is just glorious. I don’t see why you keep those curls all wadded up at the back of your head like that. If I had hair like that at your age, I’d make sure everyone could see it. And your figure… Look." Her voice was sincerely complimentary.

Ellie followed Mrs. Bakkman’s direction and turned to face a three-way mirror attached to the side of the dressing room. The woman who stood there looked too stylish to be Ellie Severance, Marine Corps Staff Sergeant and all-around dogsbody.

"All you need is a little fashion assistance. You’ve got a lovely figure. It’s a shame to cover it up with frumpy clothing. Didn’t your mother ever take you shopping?"

Ellie felt the smile freeze on her face. Her mother had never had the time to take Ellie anywhere, let alone shopping. As a divorcee, Mona White-Severance let it be known all her waking hours were spent slaving away at her secretarial job in order to maintain a home and put food on the table for Ellie. She never let Ellie forget the bitter divorce between herself and Ellie’s father. That bitterness tainted her attitude about everything reminiscent of her former husband, including her daughter.

"I was never very interested in clothing as a teenager," Ellie said. "I thought it was high time I started." She smiled at Mrs. Bakkman in the mirror. "I’ll go try on the dark gray suit. Okay?"

"I’ll wait for you out here. By the way, what is your name?"

"Ellie Severance." She extended her hand.

Mrs. B’s handshake was firm and dry. "All right, Miss Severance. Let’s see that next outfit."

Ellie changed into the charcoal gray tuxedo-style suit, at first having a bit of trouble with the lack of buttons. Finally, she had the fitted trousers zipped, and the silky jacket fastened as securely as possible. The air from the store’s heating vents slid right down the front of the jacket’s V-neck like a cold finger. Ellie looked down and saw that quite a bit of her generous cleavage was exposed. Stacy had been right, the only thing holding the jacket up was gravity and lots of hours at the base gym doing incline bench presses.Three cheers for firm breasts. She stepped out of the changing room.

"Marvelous!" Mrs. Bakkman clapped her hands and walked all the way around Ellie while she eyed her with a proprietary stare. "Take a look."

Again, Ellie turned to the mirror. "Holy cow!" She was shocked by the amount of creamy white bosom

that surged between the black satin borders of the lapel. "I couldn’t wear this in public." She slowly shook her head.

"Pish posh." Mrs. B waved the motion aside with a toss of her fingers. "You’ve certainly got the chest for it. So many women come in here who don’t have enough to fill up a teacup, let alone a sophisticated little number like that."

She sniffed and looked offended. "Then they have the nerve to ask me to ruin the cut of the top by taking it in. If they would stop drinking Diet Cokes and eating lettuce leafs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, they might have something to put into that jacket."

Ellie laughed.

"Miss Severance, you realize you wouldn’t even wear a bra underneath that, don’t you? Otherwise the front of the bra would show."

Ellie cocked her head to one side as she studied her reflection.No bra? That sounded sinfully delicious. "It’s a beautiful suit. They’re both great. I think I’ll—"

"Ellie Severance, just look at you!" Susan breezed through the rows of racks. She looked chic in a pair of black knit trousers and a fitted black cashmere sweater. "I’m glad you’re still here. I thought I was going to miss you. Sorry I’m late."

Ellie barely glanced her way. "Where have you been? And what do you think of this outfit? Would it be perfect for my date with Kurt?"

Susan paused, her blonde head tilted to one side. "Mmm, I think it’s a little bit much for a first date, don’t you? How about this one?" She grabbed an electric blue dress with dolman sleeves off a nearby rack. The neck was an unadorned scoop but the dress’ bias-cut hemline would skim Ellie’s legs at mid-thigh.

"That dress is totally inappropriate for this young woman’s hair color and temperament," Mrs. Bakkman sputtered indignantly.

Susan leaned in close to Ellie and whispered, "Perfect for red hair though, right, Ellie?"

Ellie winced.Damn. She’d forgotten about the stupid wig and the charade she had gotten herself into. Susan was right. With the crimson wig, the silk dress would look just fine, and it certainly was eye-catching.

Susan checked the size of the blue dress. "This will fit you. Listen, I’m parked next to a hydrant out front, and I don’t want my car to get towed. I’m going out back and see if there’s another space available."

"What do you care if that old pile of junk gets towed? You’ve got the only car on base that’s older and junkier than mine." Ellie smiled, thinking of Susan’s battered old yellow Nova coupe.

"Not today, girlfriend." Susan’s smiled widened. "I’ve just gotten myself a well-deserved early Christmas present, and let me give you a hint—it has four wheels and lots of leather." She turned and called back over her shoulder. "Meet me outside."

The tinkle of the shop door heralded her exit.

Mrs. B. looked like she was sucking lemons. "That friend of yours is a little pushy when it comes to clothes she’s not buying, don’t you think?"

Ellie shrugged. "I’m sorry. Susan is kind of like a contained tornado. She gets an idea in her head, and everyone and everything in her path either gets sucked into her plan, or blown far away."

Mrs. B gave a noncommittal hmph.

"But I think I’m only going to take part of Susan’s advice, Mrs. Bakkman. I’d like to buy all three outfits, please."

Mrs. Bakkman looked considerably cheered by the prospect of a big sale, and with an approving nod, lost no time in getting Ellie’s three outfits wrapped on their hangers and hung in a black garment bag that had the Bakkman’s Boutique logo emblazoned across the front in spidery gold script.

"I hope you enjoy these," she said as she handed Ellie the receipt. "I know you’ll do justice to them all—even the blue one, though it really isn’t your style." She looked up at Ellie and the lines at the corners of her eyes deepened with a smile. "I take that back. If you wanted to, you could make anything your style. It just takes a little practice. Come see us again soon."

Ellie wiggled a good-bye wave as she exited the store, then looked around for Susan. She didn’t have to look far. Parked just in front of her own elderly VW Bug was a new silver Audi sports coupe. Susan leaned against it, arms and ankles crossed, and a gigantic smile on her face.

"It’s beautiful." Ellie walked all the way around the shining vehicle, then leaned in the open window to admire the buttery soft black leather interior and gleaming wood paneling. She’d bet fifty bucks Susan would make people take their shoes off first before getting in.

"It should be, for the amount I paid," came Susan’s lazy reply.

"How did you ever afford it on your salary?" Ellie asked.

"How did you afford all of those fancy clothes onyour salary?" Susan countered with a grin, and pointed at the large Bakkman’s bag.

Ellie laughed. "I really don’t buy much in the way of clothing. You know that. So I’ve got some money to spend on extras. It’s a good thing I get a discount at the bookstore, or else all of my take-home pay would go right into the Book Nook’s cash register."

"Must be nice to have wads of extra cash lying around."

"Not lots. I save, too."

"Anyway—" Susan shoved away from the car and checked her watch. "You need to haul ass to get to the bookstore, or you’ll be late. Call me after you get your date set up. He’s calling you tonight, right? We can arrange to get together beforehand so I can do your makeup again."

"Susan…" Ellie tried to say she really didn’t want to repeat last night’s costume charade, but it was too late. With a lithe twist, Susan slid inside the car, fired up the engine and with a honk and a wave, roared away from the curb. Even the horn sounded expensive.

A few minutes later, Ellie pulled into the bookstore parking lot. After a moment’s hesitation, she picked up the garment bag. Vera Livretti would offer an honest opinion of the purchases. Plus it wasn’t just her friend’s feelings about the clothing that she needed. Ellie wanted advice about her upcoming date, and Vera was just the person to ask.

The Book Nook was an old adobe house that had been converted into a bookstore by its owner, Emma Alderman. Vera worked at the Nook as the manager, display designer, and resident palm reader, although Ellie wasn’t sure how much of Vera’s prophesies were geared towards encouraging book purchases and how many were genuine portents.

She walked in the front door, stooping to give Gabriel a quick pat. Gabe was the official bookstore cat and had full run of the establishment. Besides keeping the local population of mice at bay, he enjoyed stalking customers through the twisty maze of rooms, staring at them through the bookshelves like a tiger eyeing prey. Gabe blinked with contentment and resumed his guard cat position near the door.

"Vera? I’m here," Ellie called as she wound her way through the store’s rooms. Looked like Vera had spent the better part of her week decorating for the holidays. No religion went disregarded—she covered Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa all in one fell swoop. A few customers stood here and there, absorbed in their browsing. Most of them were regulars who came in for the conversation as much as anything else.

She finally found Vera at the back of the store in the children’s section, struggling to set up an end cap filled with Lemony Snickett books. Ellie was pleased to see a new volume in the series had come out.

"Hold on. Let me give you a hand with that." She laid her purchases down on a reading table and grabbed for the other side of the shelving unit.

They shuffled the end cap into place near the rest of the chapter books and took a step back to admire the display. Vera had usedpapier-mâché and paint to give the unit the appearance of being a huge, creepy castle.

"The kids are going to eat those books up." And they’d dote on the attention Vera gave them, too.

"God, I hope so." Vera sighed and stretched her back with a sharp popping noise. "It took me two hours to get those silly turrets looking just right."

Somehow Ellie didn’t think Vera minded all that much. She had a zest for life and an appreciation for detail not too many people could match. She was a vivacious woman in her early forties with long, black hair she usually wore in a single plait down her back.

Creative and eccentric, she dressed to entertain herself as well as the customers. Today, she was in an exotic mood and wore a mango colored sari with matching brocade slippers. Her arms were piled with brass and copper bracelets that clinked as she moved, and her braid was decorated with strands of yellow and orange beads looped in and out through her hair, ending at a small bell that tinkled with each twitch of her head.

"Nice outfit," Ellie told her.

"Thanks," replied Vera. "I did a Bengali-themed story time for the kids today. One of the five-year-olds wanted to know if I could make cobras dance by playing a flute." She laughed—a bright sound. "I told him yes, but my snake was on vacation for the winter in New Delhi."

They giggled together for a moment, then Vera looked hard at Ellie.

"Your hair is down. I like it like that. It makes you look less severe, more relaxed. What’s the occasion?" Vera raised one delicate eyebrow. "Do I sense a man entering your sphere of influence?"

Ellie didn’t want to go into any details right now, but knew that once she showed Vera the Bakkman’s bags, more questions would come out. Anyway, Vera was a good listener. She might be able to give some good advice about the wig and what to do about the charade.

Ellie sighed and picked up her bags. "Let’s put these away in the coffee room, then I’ll spill the whole sordid tale."

Two hours later, the last customer was leaving and Vera had just turned the "closed" sign around on the front window. Ellie had managed to describe most of the past two day’s exploits, in between book buyers, and now they were finally alone so she could get Vera’s opinion.

"So what do you think I should do? Wear the wig tomorrow night or not?"

Vera opened her mouth to reply when a hard rap at the door interrupted her. "Who could that be? I’ve got the closed sign showing and the overhead lights are all off." She peeked through the front window at the porch, then clucked her tongue. Leaning over, Vera unlocked the front door and pushed it open.

"Jess Alderman," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Is there some sort of emergency?"

It wasn’t the tall, gaunt man with the gray hair who caught Ellie’s attention. It was the younger man with the muscular thighs who trailed Alderman into the store like a lithe shadow.

Ellie gasped.

Agent Duncan’s stunning blue eyes burned straight into her own. He was just as thrilled to see her as she was to see him—which wasn’t much.

Chapter 5

They stared at each other for a long moment, each face a mirror of dislike and awareness.

"What’re you doing here? It’s Friday night. I thought you’d be hanging out at the Lost Oasis."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Kurt wanted to kick himself. A wave of annoyance tinged with embarrassment rushed over him. Why was he continuing to snipe at this woman?Stay calm and pull it together.

He forced his face into a smile and tried to ignore the curl of shame that twisted in his gut. Something about this woman pushed his buttons, and he was damned if he knew what it was. It bothered him and he didn’t like it one bit.

Beside him in the doorway, Jess made a surprised grunt, then stepped into the shop. He nodded at Severance, who continued to glare daggers at Kurt.

"So…you two know each other?" Jess’ question hung in the air.

Kurt yanked the door shut and shrugged, waiting for her to answer the question as he knew she would. His mind whirled.How did Jess Alderman know her? Was she an acquaintance or was it just from court?

"Mr. Duncan enjoys giving me advice." Her tight voice dripped acid. "He seems to fancy himself as a special fashion consultant for women Marines."

"Just the ones who need a lot of help," he snapped back. Her very presence pricked his skin.

"I don’t need your help with anything, buster." She stepped toward him, fists balled.

Kurt glared down at her. Of its own accord, his gaze shifted to her hair. Free of its usual confining knot, it cascaded in a riot of curls down her back and around her face. It was a rich brown, the color of bitter chocolate, and shone with mahogany highlights. There was so much of it, it had to weigh a ton, and it looked silky. He had the appalling urge to reach out and stroke the one soft curl that nestled against her cheek. Horrified, Kurt plunged his hands into his jeans’ pockets.

"Children, children." Jess followed up with a fatherly tsk. "How was business today, Vera?" He moved between Kurt and Severance, blocking what ever current coursed between them.

"We had a good day, Jess." Vera shuffled a stack of bookmarks into place beside the register. "Lots of sales. But I told Emma that when she called earlier."

Jess’ wife and owner of The Book Nook was visiting an old college friend in San Diego. Probably another reason why Jess seemed so distracted lately. Kurt chanced another look at Staff Sergeant Severance. Her ivory cheeks glowed pink with anger and her eyes narrowed behind the unattractively thick glasses that balanced on her pert nose.

"I know she calls you each evening to check up, Vera, but this is business of a different sort. I need to get up into the attic crawl space and pull down a trunk that’s stored up there. Apparently, it can’t wait until Emma comes home on Monday. I brought along my hired muscle to help with the lifting." He pointed a thumb at Kurt.

Vera nodded, and the small bell at the end of her braid emitted a cheerful, tinkling peal. "No problem, Jess. Come on and help me set up the ladder. We’ll call your muscle when we need him." She smiled, a mischievous twinkle that made her look ten years younger than her forty-some years, and led Jess out of the front room.

Vera tossed back, "Play nice, kids," as they left and suddenly Kurt found himself alone with a very hostile young woman.

"Why are you here at the bookstore?" His question cut the long silence.

"Are you surprised to know I can read?" She shot back.

Kurt took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. "No, I was just making small talk, that’s all."

She narrowed her eyes as if trying to decide what his motive might be. All Kurt wanted was to get out of there in one piece. As it was, the encounter had already ruined his night.

"I started working here part-time about a month ago. I fill in whenever they need an extra pair of hands." She pushed her glasses up again, the gesture unconscious and automatic.

"Why don’t you get contact lenses?" Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself.

Another flush stained her cheeks.

He waved away the question with a flick of his hand. "I’m sorry, that was too personal. You don’t have to answer that." He had to try to salvage something here or he’d be up all night seething over the confrontation. "You know, we really got off on the wrong foot this morning. I was having a bad day, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry."

He watched her weigh his words as she scanned his face, looking for any signs of deception. Finally, she nodded. "I accept your apology, and you’re right. You were a real asshole."

He stiffened. "I didn’t say I was an asshole—"

Jess’ shout from the back of the bookstore interrupted further sparring. Muttering a curse, Kurt pushed past his antagonist and stalked back to the modified kitchen that served as a small break room for the staff. A metal folding ladder sat beneath an open trap door in the ceiling. The light was on in the attic, and he could hear Vera chattering to Jess.

Kurt scaled the ladder and poked his head through the trap door. A large crawl space lay above packed with neatly labeled boxes. In the far corner there was an old black steamer trunk with brass trim and a small, sturdy padlock. It was battered and scratched, like it had been hauled around the world and back. Jess removed boxes stored on top of it and stacked them to the side. When it was cleared off, he grabbed one handle and dragged it to the opening.

"By the way, Vera, you remember Kurt Duncan." Jess shuffled the end of the trunk within Kurt’s grasp. "He works with me on base."

Flashing another of her glowing smiles, Vera nodded Kurt a greeting and continued to rearrange boxes that were in Jess’ way.

Once the trunk was in place near the trap door, Jess stood up as far as the sloping roof allowed and rubbed the small of his back. "Damn thing must have bowling balls inside."

Vera sank beside the trunk and fanned her hot face with one of her billowing sleeves. "Why do you need to haul this leviathan of yours downstairs anyway?"

He squatted down for extra leverage as he angled the trunk toward the hole. "It’s actually my stepdaughter Rowan’s trunk. She asked me to come get it. She and her sister-in-law Claudia are both expecting, and both expecting little girls. They want to sort through everything lock, stock, and barrel before Christmas. I guess they’re going to divvy it up." He sighed and shook his head. "Women."

Kurt backed down the ladder, balancing the end of the trunk against his chest with one hand while grabbing the ladder’s edge with the other. "Sounds like you’re getting screwed on this deal. I still think you should have made Phillip and Zach come get the thing."

Jess slowly backed down the ladder, maintaining a tight grip on the trunk’s handle in order to keep the weight from smashing down on top of Kurt’s head. "I know, I know. Emma forbid the two of them to come bumbling up here. Didn’t want them hurt. Me? I’m just the work-horse. The things I do for the women I love," he said with a chuckle.

"Love?" Kurt made a sound between a laugh and a snort as he eased his way down the last few rungs. "Love is a dinner companion and a quick snuggle on the living room couch. This is indentured servitude, pure and simple." He took the last step to the floor and held the trunk steady so Jess could finish his

descent.

"Son, you don’t know diddley squat about women if that’s your idea of love." Jess set his end of the enormous trunk down on the kitchen linoleum.

"Maybe he’d have better success with a Barbie doll." Severance’s sarcastic voice crawled to him from the doorway. "A real flesh-and-blood woman would be too much trouble for Mr. Duncan. He doesn’t seem to handle imperfection very well."

She shifted her gaze to Vera, who looked down into the kitchen from the top of the ladder. "I’ll see you Monday evening, Vera." Head high, she turned and breezed from the kitchen.

The heavy denim skirt flared out to reveal rather shapely calves and trim ankles. Kurt’s interest stirred. Actually, it was more like it did a double-take, then craned its neck for a closer look. He ordered it down, but the thing had a mind of its own. For the life of him, Kurt didn’t understand. The woman was a plain Jane harridan and yet he got turned on with one glimpse of her ankles like a green boy? He refocused his attention on putting the trunk down upon the floor, not on his toes.

"Well, you two certainly hit it off." Vera closed the trap door and picked her way down the ladder. "What’s next, pistols at dawn? Mud wrestling?"

Considering his flash of interest, the last suggestion hit too close to home. The very image brought things perking up again.

He rubbed his neck and looked over Vera’s shoulder to the far wall. "Not my type. Too granola. I like my women looking feminine and pretty, not like Marines."

He shot a look at the smug expression on Jess’ craggy face and raised an eyebrow. "In fact, I need to hurry this weightlifting session up. I have to call a certain woman about a date we’ve got planned for tomorrow."

Jess glanced at his watch. "I’ve got an appointment to keep, too. You get this to Rowan and Claudia. We’ll catch up over an early breakfast."

Sounded like a plan to Kurt.

***

Ellie pushed open her door and dragged her armload of packages into the kitchen. With a sigh of relief, she hung her new clothes on a laundry hook behind the door and put two grocery bags on the counter top. She would have to hide the two bottles of Turning Leaf merlot from Bernadette later. Perhaps in the living room behind some of her books. Since Bernadette didn’t read, it would be the perfect stash.

The desert wind started to gust outside. A winter storm was sliding into the area, and that usually meant high winds and power outages. Sometimes a light dusting of snow, or so she’d been told. She was glad she’d stopped at the grocery store on her way home and picked up some staples.

Hades stalked into the kitchen, winding his way around and through her legs.

"I’m going to trip over you if you don’t stop that." She laughed and bent down to stroke his soft, silky fur. A deep purring rumble rewarded her attentions. Forgiven again for leaving the master of the castle alone for a day by himself.

The new cell phone lay on the kitchen counter, still nestled in its leather carrying case. She picked it up and gingerly turned on the ringer. Kurt had mentioned he would call late in the evening, around nine-thirty. It was just about nine o’clock, so she had time to have a glass of wine and microwave herself a dinner. Although with the butterflies dancing in her stomach, she doubted she’d eat much; it was hard enough to concentrate.

It wasn’t until she heard Hades’ angry grumble that Ellie realized she’d put her microwaved eggplant parmesan into his cat bowl and a scoop of dry cat chow onto her own plate.

"Oh, no! Oh, Hades, I’m sorry." The apology earned her another feline glare as she quickly put the cat chow into another bowl and removed the offending food from his sight.

Ellie looked at her meal cooling in the cat’s dish and decided that she’d skip dinner for the evening, just have a glass of wine and nibble on a few crackers. She scooped up the cell phone and went into the living room to wait for his call.

The minutes ticked by. She paced the Oriental rug in front of the fireplace, checking the clock and taking small sips of the full-bodied wine. Hades watched from his favorite perch on the bench seat beneath the big bay window, tail flicking in time with her steps.

The ringer trilled and Ellie jumped. Wine sloshed over the lip of the glass and a small purple stain dotted the coffee table. Her hand trembled as she scooped the phone off of the table and pressed the receive button.

"Hello?" Her voice came out a choked whisper.

"Where have you been?" Her mother screeched. "I’ve tried to reach you all afternoon! I thought having a cell phone would make you more reachable. I should’ve known better. You leave me to the mercy of that answering machine, and now you ignore the cell phone.

"I could only imagine what had happened to you. God only knows what all those randy Marines out there do when they’ve been living in such an isolated area without any women around. They could get desperate and go after you for sexual favors."

Desperate?Ellie sighed and tried remain calm. "Mother, I can’t talk right now. I’m expecting a very important telephone call."

"Are you hustling me off the telephone so you can take a call from your father?" her mother shrieked, Savannah accent more apparent in her fury. "That son of a bitch can drive three hours and see you any time he pleases, but does he let me have one uninterrupted telephone call? No!"

"Mother. It’s not Dad I’m expecting." Her protests fell on deaf ears.

"Don’t you lie to me, young lady! I bought you this phone and I expect…"

Ellie couldn’t take the shrill accusations any longer. She took another deep breath, bit her lip, and pressed down on the disconnect button. Her mother’s angry voice cut off in mid-sentence.

There would be hell to pay later. Mona White-Severance wasn’t the type of woman who took rejection lightly—from anyone. Ellie couldn’t believe she’d actually gotten up the nerve to hang up on her mother during one of the patented Mona tirades.

"Hades, I think I’m a little crazy today." She hardly recognized herself. First she arranged for a date with a virtual stranger, then she verbally insulted an annoying NCIS agent…twice. Finally, thepièce de résistance —hanging up on her mother.

"The new Eleanor Severance has arrived."

She grinned, pleased with herself and wandered over to her answering machine. Sure enough, ten messages waited. She deleted them all. A burst from the telephone made her jump. Most probably her mother again. Although, with any luck her mother was having such convulsions from Ellie’s daring disconnection that she’d be unable to call back.

Ellie yanked up the receiver. "What."

"It’s me…Jeremy." Her flighty young friend sounded subdued. "I need to talk to you. Do you have some time tonight? Can I come over?"

No, no, no!"I’m sorry. I can’t talk right now. I’m expecting a really important call and I—"

"I really need to come over and see you tonight. It’s important. You’re the only one I can talk to about this." He sounded like an eight-year-old, erasing any sympathy he hoped to glean from her.

"I just can’t tonight," Ellie said quickly before she lost her nerve. "If it’s really important, why don’t you call Susan? She’s a good listener."

"She’s the last person I’d be calling right now," he replied with a short, bitter laugh.

Probably another breakup. Each girlfriend was "it" for Jeremy. And each time he was dumped, it was a tragedy of epic proportions. Susan was never sympathetic toward Jeremy’s other girlfriends.

"Call me tomorrow. Right now is not a good time. I’m hanging up now. Good-bye." She put the receiver down.

Hades warbled his opinion from his cozy box on the bay window seat.

"I agree with you, pal. This is getting ridiculous."

Ring…ring…ring.Her cell phone.

Nap interrupted again, Hades jumped down from the couch and wandered toward the kitchen.

"Keep your paws crossed," she told him. "Hello?"

"Hello there." The deep, smooth tones of Kurt’s voice caressed her ear. "Your line’s been busy or I would have called sooner."

"I’ve had some…um…business I’ve been taking care of. Had to make a few calls. I’m sorry I kept you waiting."

"What sort of business?"

He sounded politely interested. Blowing off Jeremy and hanging up on her screaming mother didn’t sound like good answers. She’d have to make something up.

"I was discussing an interpersonal relationship with an acquaintance of mine." It was time to change the subject. "So, are we going to get together tomorrow night, or are you calling to bow out?"

He laughed, a low, warm chuckle that sent a shiver down the back of her neck. "Of course. If you’re not too busy doing…business. I’ll pick you up at seven. We’ll go out for a nice dinner. My treat. We can get to know each other better."

She took a fortifying sip of wine. That emphasis he put on the last word made her quiver with anticipation. "That sounds wonderful. I’ll see you then. I’ll make sure to leave the porch light on for you. It’s hard to find this place in the dark."

"You know, Ellie, I don’t even know what your last name is."

"It’s…"

A crash and a scream from the kitchen made her stop mid-sentence.

Bernadette’s furious screech soared over Hades’ high-pitched growl.

"Oh, my God." Ellie peeked around the door to the kitchen. "I’ve got to go. My cat has gotten into a fight with my landlady."

"What?"

"I’ll see you tomorrow night," she said in a rush of breath. And, for the third time that evening, hung up on her caller.

"Eleanor! Eleanor, get in here and help me. This wretched beast of yours won’t let me down!" Bernadette’s voice crackled with anger and fear.

Ellie ran into the kitchen. The woman stood on one of Ellie’s antique railback kitchen chairs. Her pink, ostrich-hide ankle boots scuffed the seat’s polished surface as she teetered back and forth, trying to evade Hades’ swiping claws.

The furious tom crouched, growling. In a blinding blur of speed, he took a swipe at Bernadette’s legs, his claws extended. She wailed and shuffled backwards on the seat.

"What happened?" Ellie scooped up Hades from his attack position.

"He scratched me!" Bernadette pointed one manicured finger at her leg.

Indeed, a long series of bleeding furrows pinpointed where Hades had sliced through the pantyhose.

Ellie bit her lip and fought hard not to smile. It served Bernadette right if she persisted in using her pass key to visit her tenant’s condo without permission.

Bernadette huffed. "Your mother called and asked me to come over and check up on you. When I walked in, your cat was lurking beneath the table. He jumped out and mauled my leg for no good reason!"

Privately, Ellie thought Hades had more than enough reasons to take a swipe or two at Bernadette, but she kept her opinion to herself. The other news churned her stomach.

"My mother called you? To check up on me?"

If true, this was an all-time low, even for her mother. Ellie trembled with rage. "So you entered my condo again, without my permission, just because my mother asked you to check up on me?"

Bernadette slowly descended from the chair, keeping one wary eye on the growling cat in Ellie’s arms.

"Your mother is worried you’re getting involved with some elements of which she wouldn’t approve." Bernadette had her composure back, and with it, her venom. "Since Mona and I chat occasionally, she felt confident I’d be able to assess the situation and see what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself into. You’re not pregnant, are you?"

Ellie felt her mouth drop open. The nerve of this woman! "For your information, I am not in any type of trouble. Nor am I pregnant. And furthermore, any elements I’m involved with are my own business—not yours or my mother’s!"

Bernadette’s sharp-eyed gaze zeroed in on the Bakkman’s garment bags hanging from the hook on the wall. A suspicious look flickered across her face.

"Shopping at Bakkman’s and you didn’t even ask me for my advice on what to buy? You know I’m well-known for my exquisite fashion sense in the best circles." She sniffed. "I find it very difficult to believe you actually found anything that would fit you at Bakkman’s, given your awkward bosom." She paused and smiled smugly. "They usually cater to the more petite sizes."

Ellie deliberately gave Hades a gentle squeeze, which caused him to jump and thrash about in her grasp. "I think he’s getting away from me. I’m going to have to put him down."

She bent over as if to set the Maine Coon on Bernadette’s dainty boots. Hades yowled and struggled. Loose hairs flew around the kitchen, most of them clung to Bernadette’s expensive clothing.

Bernadette backed quickly toward the kitchen door, brushing cat fur from her suede jacket. "We’ll talk about this tomorrow, Eleanor. Try to keep that thing locked up in the bathroom when I come over. And if I need a rabies shot after being mauled by your mangy beast, I’ll be sure Animal Control comes to have him taken away and gassed."

With that, she slipped into the garage and slammed the door behind her.

Ellie stroked Hades’ soft fur. "Good boy. You’re a good judge of character and that earns you a special treat." She reached into the pantry, brought out a small can of Albacore tuna and scooped it into Hades’ bowl. He dissolved into raptures, purring with pleasure as he gulped down the rich treat.

"Next time, take her leg off at the knee," Ellie said as she watched him eat. "I don’t know why I put up with her, or my mother either for that matter. I guess I’m just in the habit of taking whatever garbage they dish out." She scrubbed her fingers through her curly hair, massaging the scalp. "That needs to stop."

She locked both doors, turned off the kitchen lights, and took her new clothes upstairs. The wind raked the yard’s tamarisk trees against the condo like fingernails on a blackboard.

Tired to the bone, she placed the new outfits across her bed and pulled off her skirt and sweater.

Clouds of steam billowed majestically across the small bathroom while she waited for the tub to fill. Ellie stood in front of the mirror in just her bra and panties. Clear gray eyes gazed back, wide and bright, slight shadows beneath, like smudges on porcelain.

Tomorrow night she was going to date a man she scarcely knew, a man whose caresses made her body tingle. She’d continue her charade, playing a part she wasn’t comfortable with, a persona that wasn’t her own.

The mirror fogged over and Ellie made no move to wipe it clear.

Chapter 6

"I told you, Jess, she got interrupted just as she was about to tell me her last name."

Kurt stirred more cream into his coffee. They were meeting for breakfast in an out-of-the-way diner to discuss the evening’s setup. It was a Mom and Pop operation with the best hash browns Kurt had ever tasted—golden crispy and hot with grease. Both men took advantage of the food. Kurt guessed Emma would have a fit if she knew about the cholesterol-laden treats Jess pumped into his body whenever she was gone.

"Seems damn convenient to me," Jess grumbled around a forkful of scrambled eggs. He sipped his coffee, then pulled a sheet of paper out of his jacket pocket. "Read this. It’s the results of her residential trace."

Kurt scanned the paper. Ellie’s address was listed as belonging to a Ms. Bernadette McFee. Apparently, her condo and its adjoining neighbor were owned by this McFee woman. No mention of a tenant. Kurt cursed under his breath and handed it back.

"What about the telephone number I gave you?"

"Unlisted. It’s a new type of phone similar to a calling card. Drug dealers use them all the time and they drive law enforcement agencies wild. It may be traceable, but we won’t know anything until next Monday at the earliest. You know those private industry telephone workers. Monday through Friday, nine to five."

"That’s too bad, but it’ll keep. What’s McFee’s story?"

"She’s a local realtor slash property owner," Jess said. "Something of a social butterfly with aspirations of grandeur. Spends money like it was going out of style. I personally don’t know how she does it in the depressed real estate market, but I guess having the nerve to call a duplex a condo helps. Of course, this is all according to Phillip. He managed a youth softball team her realty company sponsored last summer."

Jess grinned and took another gulp of coffee. "Apparently, she’s a pushy broad. Tried to outfit the kids in pink T-shirts as a part of their uniform. Said it matched her business logo." He laughed. "Phillip put a

stop to that, right quick. Threatened to drop her name and pay for the shirts himself if she didn’t back off and let the kids select their own uniforms."

Kurt laughed. He imagined Phillip Stuart had more than a few bones to pick with the woman. Jess’ son-in-law wasn’t known to mince words or take guff from anyone.

He shoved another greasy load of potatoes into his mouth.Pure heaven. "So Bernadette McFee and Ellie are definitely not the same person?"

"Nope. Phillip says McFee is a petite thing, real brassy with blonde hair courtesy of Miss Clairol. Nothing like the gal you and Lieutenant Parsons have described."

Kurt thought about Ellie, her sensuous walk that made her hips sway, the clear, porcelain skin and generous bosom. He realized he was looking forward to the evening’s date for more than professional reasons. He reined the emotion in and forced himself to remember the woman was a blackmailer who ruined Marines’ lives with her seductive touch.

Jess scratched his cheek and studied Kurt from across the booth. "Are you sure you’re okay with this date? Do you think you can bag us some hard evidence? Something that’ll link her with the blackmailing?"

Kurt toyed with a piece of bacon, crumbling the cold strip between his fingers. Finally, he looked Jess in the eye and nodded. "If there’s evidence to find that’ll determine her guilt, I’ll find it tonight."

Jess smiled and slipped a toothpick out of his oxford shirt pocket and into his mouth. He rolled it around for a moment, then replied, "Good. Just make sure you glue that mangy beard of yours on straight."

Kurt chuckled, then moved on to their other case. "What is the latest word from the DEA on the ketamine shipment?"

"Not good. They know the bulk of the stuff is in the Twentynine Palms area, and it’s only a matter of time until it hits the streets." Jess turned his coffee spoon over and over upon the tabletop as he spoke, an unconscious movement that revealed his inner worries. "DEA investigators don’t have the access we do

to move around subtly on a military base. That’s why they’re depending on us to work with their local agent and determine if the shipment has reached the base or not."

"And they believe it’ll be distributed soon," Kurt said, more to himself than to Jess. "That means we’re rushed for time."

"We’ll start your investigative work looking into the ketamine shipment on Monday. Their visiting agent is going to be back in our office then meet you and Vic as well as exchange any further information. Probably around noon or so. By the way," his gaze clicked up to Kurt. "This guy’s name is Duncan…Jeffery Allen Duncan III. Any relation?"

His cousin Tripp. The name was a legacy from their grandfather, bestowed on Tripp because he was born two minutes before Kurt. The nickname was something Kurt tossed his way when they were kids.

He shoved his plate aside and pulled his cup to him. If Jess found out they were related, he’d yank him off the case in a heartbeat.

"There are a lot of Duncans in the world, Jess. Why would you think we’re related?"

The older man shrugged. "No reason really. Just the name I guess made me see a resemblance. Don’t know why. Darker complexion than you. Hair’s dark brown, yours is dark blond. His eyes are dark blue—"

"I get it, Jess. Please don’t dissect me piece by piece."

He chuckled. "Just a look about him that reminded me of you."

"Or a name that made you look for something that didn’t exist?"

Jess paused to allow the waitress to leave the bill on the edge of their table. He picked up the tab, examined it, then left it and a pile of cash next to the salt shaker. "After tonight, you can put the

blackmailing investigation on the back burner. Drugs are going to be our main priority. We need to focus on the ketamine—if it’s on base, who’s dealing, and where the rest of that supply is."

Kurt nodded and drank the rest of his now-tepid coffee. He needed to get evidence of Ellie’s blackmailing tonight. Enough to put her away in jail for a very long time. Enough to get her out of his life and off his mind for good.

***

Ellie awoke, too edgy to sleep much past dawn. She decided to put her nervous energy to good use with an early morning jog. Staying in top physical shape was an important part of being in the Marine Corps. As much as she disliked running, she had to maintain her athletic skills and her weight in order to keep her job. Every Marine had to run. But they didn’t have to enjoy it.

She braided her long hair into a plait, then pulled on a pair of black Lycra tights and a red USMC sweatshirt. Yawning, she laced up her running shoes and stepped outside. On her condo’s small front porch, she stretched her calves by letting them hang down over the cement step. Mechanically, she raised and lowered, feeling the muscles loosen with each set of repetitions. Once her calves were warmed up, she moved on to lunges.

Pre-jogging exercises are just one more reason to hate running. One of many.

The wind was brisk, a portent of the predicted storm yet to come. Ellie ignored the gusts and concentrated on her stretches. It was cool and breezy, but she’d been told the weather was pretty typical for the winter season in Twentynine Palms. One good thing about being stationed in the California desert—it generally allowed for year-round outdoor activity. Skipping a daily run due to inclement weather was very rarely an option.

She set the timer on her watch and started down the street, the sole inhabitant of her early morning world. Even though Ellie disliked the physical act of running, she enjoyed the solitude. It enabled her to think and to dream. In the two months she’d been stationed at this base, she’d mapped out a series of challenging runs that improved her running skills and her endurance. It kept her from being too bored.

A quick check at her watch told her she needed to pick up the pace. She increased her speed, cutting across the isolated desert road and making a turn onto a paved street. If it had been a weekday, she

wouldn’t dare run on a paved road. The traffic would make the jog too dangerous. But on a Saturday morning, it was mostly deserted. If she ran this road for two miles, she could cut over to another dirt road that swung around on a three-mile loop back to her owncul-de-sac . That same dirt road also had the added benefit of providing a beautiful view of Joshua Tree National Park—always inspirational.

She smiled in anticipation, now flushed and perspiring with her exertions. Almost to the end of the paved road portion of her run, she realized she was passing the Lost Oasis. Ellie wrinkled her nose. She’d had more than her fill of that place for the time being. Agent Duncan’s comments flashed through her mind and she mentally gave him the finger.Jerk.

She pounded past the club, catching a glimpse of the bench at the front of the building where she and Kurt had sat and cuddled two nights before. The bench wasn’t empty. A body was collapsed across the top, one arm dangling limply over the edge. From the clothing, it looked like a man.

Ellie skidded to a stop, running in place, undecided.Was it just some bum still sleeping off the last vestiges of his late-night binge? But then again, how many vagrants wandered around in the desert?Not many.

Could it be one of the club’s last customers, too drunk to make it to his car?But there were no cars left in the parking lot.He could be dangerous. Maybe armed.

"Okay, here we go."

Trotting up the driveway, she edged along the parking lot, trying to get a better view of the still figure. She really needed to bring her cell phone with her when she ran. Or a Smith and Wesson.

For pity’s sake, she was a Marine. If he gave her trouble, she’d just break his legs. Or run like hell.

The man lay across the bench, face down. The hand that dangled down over the near side was battered and bruised, the knuckles torn and bloody. A shock of spiked white-blonde hair matted with blood showed above the edge of his jacket collar. Ellie paused. That hair.

Oh, no!

"Jeremy!" She sprinted the remaining distance to his side. "What happened to you?" She touched her friend’s shoulder gently and rolled him over.

A gasp lodged in her throat. His face was a mask of dried blood, cheeks battered and bruised, lips split. Ellie felt like crying. Someone had thoroughly and methodically beaten him. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Fresh sweat broke out on her forehead.

"Can you hear me, Jeremy?"

She slid her hand down the side of his neck, ignored the stickiness and tried to feel for his carotid artery with her fingers. After fumbling past his blood-soaked shirt collar, she found his pulse, rapid and erratic.

Thank God."Jeremy, you need to wake up."

He groaned and coughed. The motion caused him so much pain he curled back into a fetal position, arms wrapped around his stomach. His beautiful violet eyes opened a crack, flickering back and forth until they lit upon her face.

"Ellie," he whispered pitifully. "You’ve got to help me. God, I’m so scared." He hacked again, spitting blood. "I didn’t have any choice. I just didn’t." He slumped, unconscious.

She had to get him to a hospital, but how? Phone for an ambulance. Ellie looked around wildly. There was a pay phone outside the Lost Oasis on the other side of the building.

Damnit!She didn’t have any change with her; she was wearing running pants without pockets.

She patted Jeremy’s pockets, feeling for the clink of coins. Nothing. No wallet, no cell phone, no money. The only thing she found was a matchbook sized baggie. It had a grayish, flaky substance inside. Was it a drug of some sort? Jeremy moaned softly. Ellie slipped the packet into the waistband of her tights.

Telephone someone… 9-1-1! What was she thinking? She could call 9-1-1 without money.

The sound of tires crunching on the driveway twisted her head around. A dusty Ford pickup truck idled in the parking lot. Ellie froze. What if Jeremy’s attacker had returned?

The window slid down and Jess Alderman’s weathered face appeared. "Staff Sergeant, I was on my way back home from breakfast and saw you over here. What’s going on?" His gaze cut to Jeremy’s limp form. "Who is that, and what happened to him?"

Jess slid out of the truck and ran around to where Ellie crouched next to Jeremy.

"He needs medical care," she said.

He gently checked Jeremy’s face, then lifted his shirt to reveal ribs tattooed with deep purple and red welts. The perfect outline of a set of knuckles was imprinted just under his kidneys.

"Probably has a few broken ribs, but we can’t be sure there’s not more internal damage. Help me carry him to the truck. It’ll be quicker than calling 9-1-1."

Ellie nodded. Jess hoisted a whimpering Jeremy under his armpits as she grabbed his legs. Together they managed to haul him over to the pickup truck. Jess slid him into the passenger’s seat and shut the door.

"I’m taking him to the Naval Hospital," he told her, as he slid into the cab. "They’re closest, and from the looks of his haircut, I’d say he was stationed there, right?"

She nodded. There was no room for her in the truck, and the law forbid riding in the back. "I’ll meet you there as soon as I get dressed. His name is Jeremy Forton, he’s a PFC with Tanks."

Jess nodded, snapped his seat belt shut, and streaked out of the parking lot heading for the base.

Ellie stood, trembling, her arms wrapped around her stomach, trying to hold in her fear and shock. She remembered Jeremy’s frantic telephone call and wondered if she’d taken the time to talk with him last night, would he have avoided this terrible fate?

She walked back toward the road, breaking into a trot, then into a run. As if running could erase the guilt she felt.

Thirty minutes later, she opened the front door to the third ring of her phone. Fearing the worst about Jeremy, she snatched it up before the answering machine caught it.

"Ellie? It’s Vera."

"Vera, I can’t talk right now. I need to go to the base hospital. A friend of mine was assaulted last night."

"I know," Vera’s gentle voice soothed her worries. "Jess called me from the hospital. He didn’t have your telephone number with him so he asked me to call you. Your friend’s beating was severe. He has several broken ribs, as well as multiple cuts and lacerations. The doctors are stitching up his face even as we speak. Jess says the hospital will be keeping him for several days to keep an eye on him. Make sure there isn’t any internal bleeding. If he does well, he may be allowed home in a few days."

"That’s good news." Ellie sighed with relief.

"The doctors have him sedated right now," Vera went on. "Jess says to tell you that you’d be better off visiting tomorrow morning. First Sergeant Yost came for a command visit, and even he was turned away by the nurses. I’m sure they won’t let you see him while he’s sleeping. By the way, Jess wants to ask you a few questions about how you happened to find the young man."

Ellie winced. She’d transcribed Jess’ NCIS questioning transcripts, and they were marathon sessions. "I have a date tonight, remember? Do you think he’ll let me talk with him Monday instead?"

"I think so. He’s going to be more interested in questioning the victim, so he’ll probably let it slide for a few days. Jess is coming over here to the book shop in a few minutes anyway to return that trunk. I’ll ask him for you, and if there’s a problem, he can call you from here. If you don’t hear anything, assume you can give your statement on Monday."

"Great." Ellie smiled inside and out. "You’re a lifesaver."

"Now…about this date." Vera’s tone turned scolding. "I never got a chance to give you my opinion of this whole charade last night at the store, but here’s my two cents worth."

Ellie made her sigh audible. It didn’t deter her friend in the least.

"You’re going on a date tonight with a man you just met, which is fine. Spending so much time wrapped up in this silly bookstore just isn’t healthy for a young woman like you. You’re going to end up a frustrated spinster."

Look who’s talking."You’re notthat much older than I am, and you spend a lot of time at the bookstore."

"Yes, but I have the luxury of having one failed marriage under my belt," Vera snapped back. "Don’t try to change the subject. It’s you we’re talking about."

"Fine."

"Deception is no way to start a relationship. What are you going to do if he finds out you’re putting on a costume act? What if he gets so upset with your dishonesty he says to hell with you and takes off?"

"Don’t worry and quit lecturing. Tonight’s the last night I’m going to wear the wig. If we seem to hit it off and want to continue our relationship, then I’ll tell him…show him the real me."

"Why not tonight?"

"I just can’t give it up tonight." Ellie twisted the telephone cord in her hand. The wig, the disguise, was a crutch she wasn’t ready to do without. "Think of it as my protection in case it doesn’t work out. Next time, if thereis a next time, I’ll come clean with him."

Vera sighed heavily. "I think you’re making a big mistake. Relationships that begin with deceit are doomed to failure. Take it from someone who knows."

"Next time, no wig. Just me. I promise."Now quit lecturing me.

"You’re going to make me mental, you know that?" Vera’s voice held her usual smile.

"Thanks for calling me about Jeremy," Ellie said.

"No problem. Have a good time tonight, but be careful," Vera warned.

Ellie grinned. "Thanks…Mom."

"Smarty-pants." Vera hung up laughing.

The watch Ellie had so carefully set earlier that morning beeped twice. She realized the morning was flying by and she needed to call Susan, clean the condo, and make sure she had her outfit ready to go for tonight’s big date. Jeremy would be awake and ready for visitors tomorrow. She would visit him and find out how he managed to get himself into such a mess.

The packet.She’d forgotten all about it.

Ellie reached into the sweat-soaked waistband of her running pants and fished out the bag she’d taken

from Jeremy’s pocket. The material looked grainy through the plastic. She held it up to the light. Opaque, grayish, and flaky. Looked like some sort of chalky substance.

What was it?Something illegal? Coke, heroine? Ellie didn’t even know what those drugs looked like. The closest she ever came to criminal drug activity was recording the testimonies of military personnel caught on base with drugs in their possession.

The sound of Bernadette starting up her car and her engine roaring in the garage jerked Ellie out of her reverie. She needed to hide whatever this was until she could give it to Jess and have him check it out. If Bernadette even suspected her tenant had a packet containing an illegal substance…

Ellie didn’t even want to think about those ramifications.

Looking around her living room at all the bookshelves, she tried to think of a secure hiding spot. Not with the wine. Bernadette would probably be snooping there soon enough. How about inside a book? Jane Austen’sSense and Sensibility caught her eye.

Perfect.Although if she had any sense, she’d flush this down the toilet where it belonged.Or call Jess immediately.

Ellie shoved both ideas aside. She’d talk to Jeremy first and find out if it had anything to do with his attack. If it belonged to him, then she’d bring Jess into it.

Handling the bag by its corner, she slipped it snugly into the center of the book. When closed, the pages only showed the slightest gap. It would have to do. She re-shelved the book in the lower left-hand corner of her largest bookcase. No one would find it there.

Chapter 7

The electric blue dress mocked her, Ellie was sure of it. She hooked the clothes hanger over top of her closet door and swore she heard the dress whisper, "You are a fake and a fraud, Eleanor Severance!"

"Shut up," she muttered at it. She eyed the wig lying in a puddle of crimson on her white down comforter. The color of the wig reminded her of the blood on Jeremy’s face. A wave of nausea washed over her.

Nerves. That was it. Pre-date jitters. Two hours to go, and she was halfway tempted to call it off. The only problem was she didn’t have Kurt Orin’s telephone number. There was no way to back out of the date, even if she wanted to.

Note to self—get his telephone number.

Ellie sighed, adjusted her glasses, and looked over the clothing fanned out on the bed next to the wig. Black silk panties and bra set, satin slip, sheer nylons, black pumps with two inch heels. The panties and bra were simple and unadorned, but beautifully cut.

They were from Sweden and a gift from her mother who constantly lectured her, "A lady always looks like a lady from the skin up. Even if you are the only person who sees your undergarments, at least you know you are dressing like a lady."

Ellie felt that this school of thought was similar to those people who believed wearing clean underwear was important in case you were ever in a bus accident and the paramedics had to cut your clothes off in front of a crowd of gawking strangers.

The doorbell rang. Probably Susan arriving for the big makeover, part two.

Ellie yanked on her terrycloth robe and bounded downstairs, pausing to pet Hades on the way. He

padded up to her room to ensconce himself in his favorite perch near the window.

She checked the peephole before she opened the door, then thanked her lucky stars she’d remembered to do so. A strange man in a navy sports coat stood on her doorstep. He was hunched over, trying to shield himself from the gusts of wind that threatened to blow his thick, dark brown hair in all directions. He looked straight at the keyhole and Ellie saw a muscular man, thirtyish with slightly wind burned cheeks. He had a bright red clipboard tucked under his left arm and a pen in the hand that reached out and pressed her doorbell again.

She tightened the belt on her robe and made sure the chain was latched across the door before she opened the door a crack and peeked out.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Midnight blue eyes appraised her face. The man offered a wide, cheerful smile and nodded. "Yes, ma’am. I’m here from the local government office. It’s about these two condominiums." He tapped his clipboard with his pen. "Are you Ms. Bernadette McFee?"

Ellie shook her head. "No, I’m not. She lives in the other condo, right there." She stuck one finger out the door and pointed next door.

The man’s brow furrowed. "So…you’re the…tenant?" He made a slow, careful mark on his clipboard.

She nodded. Odd behavior. Almost as if she were being interrogated.

He made another notation, then frowned. "I don’t seem to have anyone down on my list as being the current tenant at this residence. And your name is?"

"Severance, Eleanor Severance." The frigid gusts of wind were picking up, and each flurry sent a draft through the door that went right up her robe and gave her goosebumps.

"And no one else lives here with you?" He craned his neck and peered over her shoulder. "Are you sure?" His expression plainly questioned her story.

Cold and pressed for time, her patience snapped. Did the Grand Inquisitor think she was running a flophouse or something? "I live here by myself," she pushed out through clenched teeth.

The man took a step back and closed his pen with a click of his thumb. "Perhaps I could come in and ask you some more questions?"

"Do I look crazy?" she snapped. "Go away before I call the cops."

He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off by shutting the door in his face.

"Idiot." Ellie twisted the lock with a firm click. "Go bother my annoying landlady. You two deserve each other."

A flash of white on the carpeting caught her eye. In her haste to answer the ringer, she hadn’t noticed the two letters lying on the floor underneath the mail slot in the door. One was definitely her credit card bill, but the other looked like a personal letter. Ellie scooped up them up and tossed the bill on the oak sideboard. The other letter deserved closer scrutiny.

The sky outside was becoming dark enough she needed to turn on the floor lamp in order to read the handwriting on the front of the thick white envelope. It was postmarked Santa Barbara and Ellie frowned. She didn’t know anyone living up there. Using her thumb, she tore open the envelope, then pulled out the heavy card with its tissue covering.

You are invited to the joyous union of Paris Michele Fallon and Allan Thomas Kennes…

The words leapt out at her. Ellie didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or curse. Allan was getting married. He wanted her to come as a guest. Laughter came out a bitter, choking sound. She sank to the couch in a boneless heap, feeling the tissue covering the engraved invitation crumple beneath her clenched fingers.

A guest at her old boyfriend’s wedding. After nine years, he had tracked her down and sent her an invitation, just like he threatened he would. She had been packing her personal items into her suitcases and moving out of his apartment at the time he made that vow.

"Fine. You just run away, Eleanor. One day I’ll show you what you’re missing. You could have had areal life with me, but I guess you feel that wearing G.I. Joe costumes and carrying a rifle is more important than being Mrs. Allan Kennes."

She never regretted moving out of his apartment, only the months wasted living with him. Allan’s idea of domestic bliss had been Ellie doing all of the housework and cooking while trying to hold down two part-time jobs. At the time she thought it was love, but it wasn’t. It was just Allan playing house and complaining Ellie didn’t know how to please a man in bed. His bitter tirades about her inexperience and lack of sexual technique, combined with the grinding workload, became too much to bear.

One spring day, with her father’s help, she’d packed her few belongings and moved out. The next week, she quit her jobs and paid a visit to her local Marine recruiter. Allan never tried to contact her. Until now.

She hurled the envelope and its contents into the fireplace. It caught on the unlit log and lay there, a reminder of past failures, dreams unrealized, and old ambitions that soured with time.

No more.Tonight would be different. Old inhibitions would not hold her back. The attraction between her and Kurt was too strong to refute, and if the moment was right, she wouldn’t deny him.

The phone rang beside her, but she let it ring a second time before she picked it up with a quiet, "Yes?"

"It’s me," Susan’s voice was low and fast. "Something’s come up. I can’t help you get ready tonight. You’re on your own. I’m sorry."

Before Ellie could protest or demand more of an explanation, Susan disconnected. She called Susan’s home number, then her work number, but no one answered at either location. She’d bet a hundred bucks that something was a date. How could she get ready on her own?

Another disaster. And in less than one hour until Kurt was supposed to arrive!

Ellie scrambled upstairs and slapped on her club makeup. Her hands shook and she made several mistakes with her eye liner. Each error meant having to scrub the makeup off and reapply it again with care. Finally, her gray eyes were lined and dusted with glittering smoky eye shadow. Feeling more confident now, she gelled and pinned her mass of hair tightly to her scalp then settled the crimson wig into place. It looked genuine. Susan had said it was made of real hair. Ellie hated it.

The electric blue dress slid over her head with a whisper. Lucky for her, there was no zipper. She adjusted the wig one more time, slipped on her heels, and looked at herself in the bedroom mirror. Ellie was gone; the seductive stranger was back. A final shadowing of charcoal eye liner to accentuate her stormy eyes, a touch of matte red lipstick, and she was ready. Or almost ready.

Reluctantly, she removed her glasses and squinted at herself in the mirror. The dress fit and the makeup seemed fine. It would have to do. As long as she kept him from pulling on the wig, he probably wouldn’t guess that it wasn’t real. Probably.

The doorbell rang.

"He’s here, he’s here," she caroled to Hades, who lounged on his pillow, watching the tossing trees create wild shadows upon the windowpane.

After all the horrible things that had happened today, she hoped this date would be the start of a very special evening. Dinner, dancing, perhaps some romancing… She smiled at her own enthusiasm.

The doorbell rang again.

The lights flickered off.

On.

Out.

Ellie groaned in the blackness of the power outage. It was going to be a special evening, after all.

***

The doorbell cut off in mid-ring and the porch light flicked out. Kurt looked around, squinting against the bursts of wind mixed with fine grains of sand. The one street lamp was off and none of the houses on the cul-de-sac showed any lights either.

Power outage.The only activity on the darkened street was the sound of a car’s engine turning over. Two oval headlights blinked on. With a purr, the little sports car pulled out of its spot across the street, drove to the corner, and turned out of sight.

The door behind him opened and he turned. Ellie stood in the doorway, backlit by candlelight, her face in shadows. He was struck anew by the lush curves and lines of her body, hinted at by the clinging material of her dress.

Kurt tried to gather his scattered wits as she stood there waiting patiently. Mentally, he fought to slip into Kurt Orin mode—confident, smooth, soothing. In reality, his heart was pounding like he’d just run a three-minute mile and his breathing had quickened. He squared his shoulders, determined to make the operation work, no matter what his traitorous body said.

"I swear I didn’t plan this storm," he began with what he hoped was a disarming grin. "This isn’t some attempt at trying to welch out on our date." He squinted at her face, trying to see her reaction. It was so damn dark, he could barely see a thing.

"Come in and get out of the storm." A thread of laughter laced her voice. "Can I take your coat?"

He stepped into the entryway and looked around as she shut the door behind him. Living room to the left with staircase leading upstairs directly ahead. The stub of a candle flickered inside a stained glass votive jar resting on an end table. He remembered there were other doorways leading off of the living room and that she had mentioned her bedroom being upstairs.

Kurt realized Ellie had been speaking to him, and he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. "I’m sorry, I was wool gathering. Could you repeat that, please?"

Ellie laughed. "I said I’m sorry it’s so dark in here. I only could find one candle. I think my next door neighbor borrowed the rest for her earthquake supply kit. Would you like to have a seat, if you can find the couch?"

"She sounds unpleasant." He sank into soft creaking leather. "Leaving you without emergency supplies like that."

"You don’t know the half of it." Ellie shook her head and sat on the adjacent armchair. "Anyway, I don’t think there’s any point in going out for dinner if the power’s out throughout the valley. The restaurants won’t accept any new customers without power. Most kitchens run on electricity instead of gas."

Kurt nodded, then realized she probably couldn’t see him and answered, "You’re right. How about we have a candlelight supper right here? Instead of canceling our date, we can light a fire, pour some wine. Just enjoy each other’s company. No worries about bad service or poor cooking. If the power does come back on, we can always slip out and grab a bite to eat. What do you say?"

Ellie hesitated. Kurt silently urged her to agree. He had to have access to this house. He had to get the evidence NCIS needed.

"If you don’t mind something simple like sandwiches and wine, I guess we can have our date right here." She stood. "Can I get you a glass of merlot? I think I also have soda and maybe mineral water."

"Wine would be fine, thanks."

"The fire is all ready to go. And, unless Bernadette took them, matches are on the mantle in the pewter mug. Would you please get it started?"

Ellie left the room and headed, presumably, to the kitchen. Kurt looked around the room, trying to reconcile what he had glimpsed briefly in the bright lamplight Thursday evening with tonight’s dim, candlelit shadows.

Bookshelves lined the room, packed with books, some neatly shelved, others stacked in precarious piles. There was the overstuffed leather sofa and armchair set, angled around the fireplace with a coffee table, end table and several floor lamps. An Oriental rug in shades of red and orange in front of the fireplace. There was no television. No radio or computer. It was very odd, indeed, but he supposed even blackmailers could be literate. She probably kept her electronics upstairs. He’d check later.

The walls had two pictures, one that looked like a numbered Picasso serigraph at the foot of the staircase above a polished oak sideboard and the other, a still life depicting a wooden bowl filled with water-beaded lemons above the fireplace.

The remaining wall was taken up by the big bay window that looked out into the front yard. The padded window seat beneath had a few red and green throw pillows at one end and a fuzzy cat basket on the other. The window’s beige drapes were mostly closed, but he could just make out the vague movement of bushes being tossed back and forth by the wind.

Kurt shifted his jaw left, then right. The spirit gum attaching his beard itched something fierce, and he was dying to scratch. He hated wearing facial hair, but since it was a part of the Kurt Orin disguise, he had no choice. Likewise, the dark brown contacts were awkward, but necessary. Living within three hours of Los Angeles gave him access to just about any type of movie makeup or prop he wanted, and usually he reveled in the deception, the game.

Tonight, he had an uneasy feeling it was going to be a difficult task. As long as he kept her from pulling on his beard, or worse yet his hairpiece, he’d probably be okay. Probably.

Kurt moved in front of the fireplace, wondering at the room. Usually, a person’s house gave insight into their minds, their thoughts and personal feelings. This room didn’t suggest a criminal. On the contrary, it was comfortable and cozy, the type of room he would enjoy relaxing in. It didn’t make any sense.

Glasses clinked from the kitchen and the pop of a cork being pulled brought his attention back to the job at hand—start the fire. He found long matches in the tall mug, and bent down to the small, open fireplace. There was a shimmer of white on the top of the neatly stacked logs. An envelope of some sort. He could almost read the address and the inscription. Kurt reached forward to snag it out of the fireplace.

"You can leave that there." Ellie’s voice made him jump. "It’s part of the kindling." Her voice was tight, a little angry, and strangely familiar. But he couldn’t quite place the resemblance. He shoved that thought to the back of his mind to be examined later.

"Fine by me." Kurt released the envelope and lit the kindling beneath the logs. A small whoosh and the flames were soon crackling merrily.

He pivoted on his heels. Ellie stood just beyond his reach. In the limited light of the fireplace, he could now see she was wearing a bright blue dress that clung to her hips and lifted her breasts into a deep cleavage. From his angle, he saw the pointed thrust of her nipples against the material. The sight riveted his gaze.

A hot surge of desire torched through his body. He wanted her. It didn’t matter that she was a wanton thing. At that moment he wanted her as badly as he had ever wanted any woman in his life, and it frightened him.

She looked down at him, her long hair cascading around her jaw line, shadowing her face. She held two full wine glasses, but she hesitated, her body caressed by dancing shadows.

Kurt took one of the merlots from her unresisting hand, put it to his lips, and emptied the glass, never taking his gaze off her body.

Still squatting, he reached out and ran a hand up the taut curve of her calf and along the side of her silken leg until he reached the bottom of her hemline. Ellie seemed frozen in place, unable to break away from his touch. The flickering flames painted streaks of orange, gold, and red across her legs and arms, an elemental tattoo.

Driven by mad impatience, Kurt took both of her wrists, and gently pulled her down to kneel in front of him on the thick Oriental rug. Her hands trembled as she pulled away to set the wine glass on the nearby coffee table, then she twisted back to face him with languid grace. The hesitation he had felt within her a few moments before had been replaced with something else. Eagerness perhaps, or determination.

"What now?" she whispered.

He caressed one soft cheek, feeling the heavy strands of hair slide coolly over his wrist. He tried to slide his fingers behind her ear and cup her head, but she stayed his wrist with her hand. Then moved it down to her breast instead. An acceptable alternative.

Kurt leaned forward and cupped her breasts, feeling their soft weight and noting to his surprise and pleasure that they were real. Beautiful, firm globes that quivered under his touch as he caressed them through the soft fabric. Using his thumbs, he stroked upward, his touch feather-light, and reached the proud nipples that had drawn his gaze minutes before. They stood out like small nubbins, rock hard and straining at her bodice. He rolled the pads of his thumbs over them, feeling her arch toward his touch as she gasped with pleasure.

She was so responsive, so eager. Her body was made for a man’s attention. He felt his own body react to her indrawn breath as his groin tightened and his pants suddenly felt confining. With a muttered expletive, Kurt slipped his hands around Ellie’s back and pulled her against his chest. With one hand, he slid the sheer hemline of her dress up around her waist, trailing his fingers up her silken leg, past the top of her thigh-high nylons, and over the soft material of her panties.

She brushed against his throbbing crotch. A jolt of electricity shot up his spine and he pressed, involuntarily, against her, reveling in the sensations that contact provided.

"Wait…" she said, her lips touching his collarbone. "Kurt, I don’t know if this is a good…" She sucked in a breath as he cupped her buttocks with both hands and pressed his stiffness into her again, maintaining the pressure.

"Nothing’s wrong. It is a good idea, Ellie. One of the best I’ve had in a long time."

Kurt knew what he was doing wasn’t necessary to the investigation. He knew it would be possible to search the house without seducing this woman. He knew he was losing his objectivity and his control. His mind understood these things, but his body overrode any practical thoughts. All he wanted was to bury himself inside Ellie and ride out their passions.

"Unbutton my shirt," he urged harshly.

She loosed the buttons of his soft silken dress shirt, and flung it open, exposing his chest and stomach. He shrugged out of the sleeves, letting it puddle in a heap behind him.

"You’re so…beautiful." She lightly ran her fingers from his shoulders down over his flat nipples to the waistband of his trousers. "I wonder if you taste as good as you look."

Ellie leaned down and flicked her tongue over his chest, teasing his pectoral muscles and finding the groove in between. She ran her tongue in a thick wet line down his chest. "Mmm. You taste and smell like warm sandalwood…and vanilla." She rested her warm cheek against his heaving stomach. "More?"

Kurt was reaching the end of his limits. He had to get control, but her warm tongue was burning down his abdomen and teasing the faint line of hair where it met the top of his black slacks.

She slipped the top button out of its loop and deftly slid his zipper down, her breath warm against his stomach. He watched, paralyzed, as she slid her fingers down past the elastic waistband of his cotton boxer shorts and freed the hard, gleaming length of him from confinement. Then she wrapped her hand around him.

"Oh, God," he gasped.

"You feel like hot silk." She stroked him again.

He jerked beneath her touch.

The last remnants of sanity were fading fast beneath her expert touch. He had to regain control.

Pushing her gently onto her back on the soft carpet, he lowered himself and began a slow, deliberate exploration of her long, muscular legs and curvaceous calves. She raised up on her elbows to watch him, the strands of her hair angled across her face. Her body was smooth and warm to his touch, and he nibbled his way up her inner thigh until his lips brushed the edge of her white silk panties. He found the scent of her body intoxicating, a clean soapy fragrance mixed with the unique spicy perfume of woman. He cupped her hips with his hands and ran his tongue against the velvet of her thigh.

She sank back, making small mewling sounds of pleasure, her hips twitching slightly beneath his touch. Her head was tilted so all he could see was the feminine angle of her chin and jaw.

Delicately, he inserted one finger beneath the band of her panties, stroking the velvet hollow at the thigh’s apex. Her breath hissed out in a long sigh. He ventured further, feeling her moist heat and directing his fingers to the core of that warmth.

Her breath quickened, a quick gasping that left him in no doubt as to her feelings. He slipped the panties down over her hips and ran his fingers over the soft, dark curls. She was warm, so warm and yielding.

Kurt found the small nub that was the core of her pleasure. He focused on stroking that center of her womanhood with sure, gentle strokes, each one designed to bring her to the brink of ecstasy and beyond. He waited until her cries were broken, pleading, then he lowered his head and put his mouth over her moist heat. Over and over he licked her until she arched upwards and cried his name, digging her fingers into his shoulders as she reached her pleasure.

Kurt felt the satisfaction that comes to a man knowing he has given pleasure to a woman. This went beyond that. The contentment on her face, her body limp before the fire, those wondrous sounds that slipped from her lips, made him feel kingly. All he wanted to do was to pound himself deep within her, and bring her up and over once more. Every primitive instinct known to man screamed for him to do it. To know what she felt like, to feel her moist heat wrap him in complete oblivion.

And the lack of control scared the hell out of him. He was supposed to be in charge.

Gritting his teeth, Kurt forced himself away and quickly slid his underwear and pants back up over his hips. He wasn’t going to plunge himself into her body tonight, as much as his traitorous body wanted to. He wasn’t prepared for that level of intimacy until he was sure it was he who controlled the situation.

Ellie lay on her back in a boneless languor, one hand rubbing small circles on her stomach. God, she was beautiful, tempting. His body pulsed, demanding to be appeased. He was rapidly losing this battle of wills. She laughed, a quiet, satisfied chuckle, and reached for him.

Just one time.He could handle it. One time just to ease the constant aching and he could concentrate on his real business.Condom. He had to have a condom somewhere…

As she draped her arms around his neck, Kurt wrapped his arm around her waist and stood. Fumbling with his zipper, he pulled them to the chair and straddled her over the most painful erection he’d ever had.

Ellie smiled and yanked the dress up and over her head. Creamy breasts beckoned.

Control.He needed control. Grabbing her waist in both hands, Kurt pulled her closer. She raked her body along his length and pleasure shot through him. He grabbed her buttocks. He was in control, not her.

Yeah…right.

She shifted again, just where he needed her to be. He sucked in a breath, then glanced over her shoulder to the world beyond in one last desperate attempt to master the situation. He froze at the sight of a pale face peering in the bay window.

Someone was watching them make love.

Chapter 8

"Stay down!"

Kurt shoved her to the floor, yanked up his pants and ran for the door, heedless of the cold or his bare chest. The gust of wind from the door opening and shutting snuffed out the candle on the mantle, leaving only the glow from the small fire to provide light.

Ellie lay motionless on the rug, the heat from the glowing embers unable to penetrate the confusion and fear that froze her in place. What was going on, and why had Kurt suddenly left her and gone running out into the storm? What had he seen? Damm it, if she could only see!

Glasses—she had to find her glasses. She could put them on just until Kurt got back, then remove them before he noticed. Being able to see clearly, even if it was only Kurt’s face and the furniture around the fireplace, would be reassuring.

Ellie pulled on the dress. It was a rude shock to go from having a delicious, spine-tingling orgasm to being left in a disheveled heap on the floor. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, everything was so absurd. The need to do something, anything, took over and she slowly felt her way to the stairs and up to the bedroom.

Ellie clonked her shin on the bedpost and cursed the power company. Then she added a few choice words for Bernadette as well. Taking all the extra candles, what a witch! It was so dark upstairs she didn’t know if she could even find her glasses. It’d be pure luck if she didn’t end up in the linen closet or the other bedroom that served as her TV room.

A rumbling purr from the direction of her pillow told her Hades exercised his napping privileges on her bed. It irritated her that he could see quite clearly, where she could not.

She reached out, concentrating on her sense of touch, and felt along the soft comforter, then over to the wooden night stand. What was that… An empty eyeglass case. She tossed it aside and continued the search, mentally tasking herself to go out and buy several emergency flashlights. And padlock them to the wall.

Her fingers drifted up and over to the dresser. Two paperback books, an empty tissue box, a rough clay pot where she kept loose change, and something large that tipped over with a clink when she brushed it with her fingers. The aroma of her favorite jojoba body oil wafted upward.

"Damn it!" She yanked the bottle upright. Oil was everywhere. She had to clean up the mess before it oozed down the dresser and onto the carpeting.

The stairs creaked and slow, measured footsteps padded nearer and nearer. She stopped, motionless. Ellie had the sense of someone standing just inside the bedroom door. The hairs on the back of her neck stood upright while she held her breath and strained against the darkness to hear something…anything.

"Ellie?" the faintest of whispers from the doorway.

She said nothing, unsure.

"Ellie, where are you?" Kurt’s rich, soft tones.

Releasing her breath with a whoosh, Ellie spit out, "I’m here, about seven steps straight in front of you." She was about to ask him to help feel around for her glasses. Vanity kept her quiet. "I came up here to check on Hades."

"Hades? Oh…your cat." He hesitated and Ellie could easily imagine him cocking his head to one side to listen. "Unless you have a bear in here, I think I can hear him purring."

Ellie gave a light laugh. "He’s taken up residence on my bed. What happened? Why did you run out into the storm like that?"

"Didn’t you see anything?"

Ellie still didn’t want to admit she couldn’t see two inches in front of her face without her glasses. "Yes, well, thanks to you, I wasn’t really focusing very well at that particular moment. What did you see?"

"Someone was out in your front yard looking in the window at us."

"While we…" her voice trailed off in horror.

"Yes." He sounded grim. "While we. I caught a glimpse of a face, but it wasn’t enough to see who it was. The dirt in front of the window is disturbed, but the ground is too dry for footprints. I even checked around the back of your condo, but there was no sign of anyone lurking around. No cars parked nearby. Nothing."

Ellie felt exposed and sick. "Who would want to do such a horrible thing?"

"That’s what I wanted to ask you," Kurt replied.

Ellie thought a moment. "The only person I know who has less scruples than a dog in heat is Bernadette McFee."

"Your nosy next-door neighbor."

Ellie fumed. "Yes. I bet she saw you arrive and couldn’t stand not knowing what I was up to. She probably stood out there the entire time, watching and listening to us…" Ellie trailed off, hot with embarrassment that blossomed into outright anger.

"You know, when you’re angry like that, your voice reminds me of someone, but I can’t quite remember who." He paused. "It’ll come to me eventually."

Ellie felt the air stir, as if he dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. She heard him take a few steps forward, the carpet compacting beneath his shoes.

"I can’t see a damn thing." He sounded exasperated. He should be in her shoes—blind as a bat and in the dark. "Let’s go back downstairs where there’s some light. We can talk down there. Reach out and grab my hand."

Ellie walked toward his voice, hands outstretched. Her palms smacked against the hard plane of his smooth chest. Her fingers, thick with the jojoba oil, slid across his chest, leaving a slick, scented trail.

He drew in a sharp breath. "What have you got on your hands?" Another breath, this one deep and slow. "It smells good, whatever it is."

"It’s jojoba body oil. I knocked over a bottle of it by accident when I came up here and forgot it was all over my hands. Now I’ve gotten it all over you. Sorry." She rubbed ineffectively at his skin, trying to smooth away the viscous liquid.

He sucked in another breath. "Are you sure it was an accident?" His voice was low, raspy. "Maybe you just wanted to finish what we started downstairs." Kurt grabbed her arms and yanked her hard against his body. "And maybe I do, too." He covered her lips with his own.

He cupped the back of her neck and forced her mouth to press against his. He used his tongue to open her lips and kissed her as if he meant to climb inside. The tingle of his beard against her face was rough, yet exciting at the same time. The scent of their earlier encounter, her own sex, surrounded her, reminding her of how wonderful it had been.

Ellie’s mind whirled with the force of her feelings. What it was about this man that made her surrender with such abandon? She shoved aside logic and explored his smooth, muscular chest, running her hands along the edge of his collar bones, feeling the heat in his silky skin. A dimple in his left shoulder drew her questing attention, and she dipped her finger into the depression.

Kurt broke off ravaging her mouth with an indrawn hiss of breath. His body tensed.

"What is it?" she whispered, and moved her hands down his biceps, trailing oil in her wake.

"It’s a scar. Still a little sensitive. The doctor says it’s healed, but when you touch it like that, it… What are you doing?" he finished in a rush of breath.

Ellie nuzzled her way to his flat male aureole. She delicately flicked it with her tongue, and it tightened under her lips. With care, she set her mouth around the outside of his nipple, feeling the hard flesh beneath. Careful not to break the skin, she sank her teeth into Kurt’s chest and felt his body arch against her own.

"Where did you learn that?" he half-gasped, half-moaned.

Just putting my reading to good use. She trailed her lips up Kurt’s smooth chest and rested them in the hollow of his neck, breathing in jojoba mixed with his own scents of sandalwood and vanilla.

"I can’t keep my hands off you." Kurt brushed kisses down her forehead, over her nose, then on her swollen lips. "Now I understand why—"

A bright light shattered the moment.

Ellie cried out, throwing up her hands to protect her eyes from the beam that blazed from the doorway.

"What the hell?" Kurt spun around, shielding Ellie from the intruder.

She peeked over his shoulder, squinting at a dim blur.

"Well, well, well." Bernadette’s venomous tongue was laced with sugar. "Our little Eleanor seems to be taking advantage of the power outage."

"Get that light out of our eyes," Kurt snapped. "Who the hell are you?"

"My landlady and neighbor—Bernadette." Ellie wanted to crawl under the bed. Bernie would never let her live this down. She’d probably spread the news all over the valley.

Bernadette angled the flashlight so the beam was pointing down her leg at the floor, highlighting one pristine white sneaker. "I saw a half-naked man running around outside, poking around in the bushes and thought there might be some shenanigans going on in here." She snorted. "Instead of calling the police, I decided I’d just check up on you and make sure you were all right." Her sincerity was patently false. She’d meant to intrude on whatever Ellie was doing, private or not.

Ellie’s stomach clenched. In the flashlight’s glow, Bernadette could see her wearing the red wig. The hateful woman was sure to comment about it, then Kurt would realize Ellie had deceived him about her true appearance. She had to get the woman out of the room and fast, but she couldn’t think of anything.

"Eleanor, dear," Bernadette’s voice oozed malice, "I thought you said that was a prop for your church play."

No time for subtlety. Gathering her courage, Ellie twisted out of Kurt’s protective arms, snatched the open bottle of oil off of the dresser, and sloshed the remaining contents in the direction of Bernadette’s shirt.

There was a moment of startled silence, then the vituperative landlady shrieked, "You bitch, you evil little bitch, you’veruined my Versace blouse! I can’t believe you did that!"

She brushed ineffectively at her oil-streaked top with one hand. The other, holding the flashlight twitched impotently. "That does it! You are out of this rental property at the end of January. I amnot renewing your lease. Period!"

Spewing rage, Bernadette whirled around and stomped down the stairs, her size two shoes managing to sound like size fourteens. The light from her flashlight bobbed for a moment on the stairwell, then she was gone back to her own condo, leaving them alone again in the pitch black.

Ellie stood still for a moment, listening to the sound of her own blood pressure hitting the roof. It was time for a showdown.

"We have to find out if she was the one spying on us through the window, Kurt. If she was, I swear I’m going to feed her a five-finger sandwich with a kick in the shins for dessert." Ellie was so mad she shook. "I’m going over to her house and find out what she saw, then give her a piece of my mind!"

She fumbled for his hand and when she found it, gave a quick squeeze and a tug, guiding him to the door. Kurt followed without a word. She supposed he sensed her wrath and had sense enough to keep quiet. This was an issue between her and Bernadette, and had been since Ellie arrived.

She left him in the living room, sitting on the arm of the couch. The firelight made the streaks of oil on his chest glisten, and she briefly considered putting the confrontation off until the morning.

No.It had to be done now, while she had the momentum to finish.

"I’ll be back in a few minutes." She offered him a smile she didn’t quite feel at the moment. "I think your shirt is over on the floor near the fireplace."

His warm laughter followed her into the kitchen.

The electric door opener had a battery-powered emergency light that was on when she walked into the garage. It gave off enough light that Ellie was able to thread her way around the front of the two cars and over to the door leading into Bernadette’s condo. The cement was cold on her bare feet, but she didn’t care. She raised her hand to knock, then felt a resurgence of anger.

"Tit for tat," she muttered and tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. She shoved it open and charged in.

"Bernadette! Where the hell are you? I’m coming inside."

The layout was a mirror image of her own. Unlike her condo, Bernadette’s was aglow with candlelight. Votives lined the kitchen counters and illuminated the doorway into the living room. Ellie noted most of them were her own candles in their holders, filched by her unscrupulous neighbor, the majority already burned down to stubs.

Even without her glasses, Ellie could see her way well enough to walk through the semi-familiar surroundings with confidence.

"Bernadette," she shouted again, and stalked into the living room.

The woman had really outdone herself with her decor in this area of the house. Huge, puffy white couches crowded the room, each one piled high with matching white suede pillows. There were no bookcases, only glass and chrome shelving units that glittered, reflecting the candlelight that lit up the room. The effect was cold and unwelcoming to Ellie’s eye.

The shining shelves grabbed her attention, and she moved closer, staring. They held dolls, scores of tiny dolls, each one watching Ellie with dead, glittering eyes. Creepy. She instinctively took a step away from the little faces with their blank stares.

Overcome by curiosity, she eased back to the collection and squinted. None of the dolls looked as if it had ever been played with. Each one was perfect and pristine. There was something odd about them. She leaned even closer to take a better look.

Ellie sucked in a breath. Each doll wore Bernadette’s face, the cornflower blue eyes, the golden blonde hair. They were different sizes and wore different little dresses, but each one was a miniature Bernadette. She recoiled in disgust.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?"

Ellie turned. Bernadette stood on the staircase in a satin robe trimmed with fur, her feet shod in matching furred mules. "I’m calling the police."

"Make sure the officers take my statement as well." Ellie stomped toward her. "That way I can explain to them how you have invaded my privacy week after week, even to the extent of spying on me through my through my front window." Her face, her body flushed hot with righteous anger.

Bernadette said nothing, just picked her way slowly down the stairs, trailing one hand along the banister. She glided toward Ellie and stopped a few inches away. She had to tilt her head up to meet Ellie’s eyes, but the aggression in her stance made it clear she didn’t feel at a disadvantage.

"Are you insinuating I stood outside in the middle of a winter storm to watch you and your boy toy toss around?" Her voice was almost a growl. "Don’t make me laugh, little girl. I don’t need you or anyone else to give me lessons on how to make a man feel good." A smile crawled to her face. "Although you probably could use a few tips yourself, or is that wig just a part of your call girl repertoire?"

Ellie balled up one fist, feeling her short nails cut into her palm. More than anything, she wanted to smack that horrid smirk off of Bernadette’s face. She could almost feel the satisfaction that would come from a good, hard slap. But she had to keep her cool. The pleasure of knocking Bernadette McFee into next week wouldn’t help her if she were hauled off to jail on assault charges. The Marine Corps didn’t look favorably upon that sort of thing and the stink Bernadette would make with Ellie’s command would ensure the end of her career. Ellie slowly unclenched her fingers.

"Good choice." Bernadette snickered. "Although I would’ve enjoyed bringing you up in front of the judge. He’s a good friend of mine, you know."

"How do I know you’re not lying to me about watching us through the window?" Ellie demanded to know.

"Stupid girl, do I look as if I’ve been outside in the bushes in the middle of forty-mile-an-hour wind gusts?" She adjusted one perfect blonde curl.

She had a point, Ellie conceded to herself. Bernadette’s elaborate coiffure looked perfect, not a strand out of place. It was extremely unlikely she could have gone outside, crawled behind the bushes to get to the window, and observed the activities inside without completely destroying her hairdo. The time and effort it would have taken to repair that sort of damage was beyond even Bernadette’s maneuvers.

Ellie felt her volcanic anger subside until only intense dislike remained. "I’ve still got my lease agreement until the end of January. Don’t come into my house again without prior notice and express permission from me."

"Don’t worry, little Eleanor. There is nothing in your house that interests me." She narrowed her gaze. "Except the quality of people you invite into my properties. I demand to know who he is."

Ellie hiked up her chin and stared down her nose at Bernadette. "He’s none of your business."

"Oh, but he is, especially if I think there seem to be questionable activities going on in one of my rental units. Here you are with your lovely prostitute outfit, complete with wig, and your muscular friend parading around my property half-naked. Yes, indeed, there is a lot of business going on that may be attracting my attention. Monkey business, if I don’t miss my guess."

Ellie had all the information she was going to get out of Bernadette. She refused to waste any more time in a battle of wits with her, especially since old Bernie was obviously defenseless. Without another word, Ellie turned and walked out of the living room, grabbing several of the stolen votives as she passed through the kitchen.

With a small twinge of satisfaction, she left Bernadette’s kitchen door swinging wide open, permitting cold air to seep in from the garage. Her own darkened apartment wasn’t much warmer, but the thought of Kurt waiting for her in the living room made her feel a special heat all her own. Ellie laughed. She might not have found out who was spying on them through the living room window, but at least she’d had the satisfaction of telling off the horrible Bernadette.

She placed the warm votives on her kitchen counter top. As she did so, she noticed a glint on the counter top next to the coffee maker. Her spare pair of glasses. She snatched them up with relief, too excited to put them on.

"Kurt?" She walked into the living room and looked around for her date.

He sat in the chair, a shadowed figure in the dying light of the fireplace. His white shirt blazed in the darkness.

"Throw on another log." She rubbed her hands together. "It’s freezing in here."

Kurt stared into the fireplace, something clenched between his hands. "I just got a phone call."

He lifted his hand and Ellie glimpsed a cell phone. He clipped it onto the waistband of his trousers.

"I need to get going." In one sleek movement, grabbed his coat, and strode toward the door.

"But we haven’t eaten."Damn Bernadette’s inference. "I’m sorry about her interrupting, if that’s what’s bothering you—"

"It’s not that. It’s work. I need to check in at work." He flashed her a smile. "If you want to call the police about the peeping tom, go ahead, but there’s nothing to find. Whoever it was is long gone by now. Good night, Ellie. You can bet I’ll call you." With that cryptic promise, he was gone.

The echo of the door shutting lingered in her ears.

Releasing a pent-up snarl, she yanked the wig off her head, ignoring the pain of the pins pulling her hair, and threw the offending hairpiece as hard as she could across the room. It smacked against the bookshelf, and slithered to the floor in a heap.

"Damn it all!" Ellie rubbed the sting of tears from her eyes. Makeup smeared beneath her knuckles. She didn’t care. Taking a deep breath, she slammed on her spare glasses, walked around the couch and stood over the wig.

"That’s it. I’m through with you." Susan would never persuade her to wear it again.Never.

She snatched it up, half tempted to throw it in the fireplace for kindling. What in the world had happened here tonight? A nice, normal date gone crazy, out of control. She never should have let things go as far as they had. The blasted wig must have squeezed her common sense straight out of her head.

She admitted her attraction to Kurt was strong, undeniable. In hindsight, it was frightening in its intensity. Maybe that’s why Kurt took off so quickly. The fire within had had a chance to fade and he got scared. God knew, she was.

That damn invitation from Allan hadn’t helped any. All the old feelings of inadequacy, anger, and hurt had flooded back. Kurt walked into her apartment expecting a nice, normal date and had found himself face to face with a woman who needed to prove she had the right stuff. She groaned. He probably

thought she was a crazed sex fiend.

Ellie plopped into the chair and stared at the fading embers. A chill raised goosebumps on her legs and arms. Rather than stoke the fire, she pulled an afghan over her legs.

She laughed bitterly. Work. He said he needed to check in at work. Here she was ready to give up everything to him and she didn’t even know where he worked. Definitely not an Ellie thing to do. She was almost glad he was gone. Almost.

Sighing, she tucked her feet under her and poured another glass of wine. A blast from the phone startled her. She leaped for it. One part of her hoped Kurt changed her mind, while another part prayed he hadn’t.

"Hello?" Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. The sound of Jess Alderman’s echoing hello settled it with disappointment.

"I’m sorry to bother you, Staff Sergeant. But I thought you’d like to know… Jeremy Forton died about an hour ago."

Chapter 9

Severance. Eleanor Severance. Where had he heard that name before? Kurt frowned into the night as he drove his black Chevy Impala SS toward the base. He was usually very good at remembering and placing names. Why in the world did this one elude him? Not that it mattered. They’d find out soon enough. Her fingerprints had to be on the plastic baggie. If the contents were what Kurt thought they were, she’d be in jail soon—two cases solved in one blow. He grinned to himself.

Luck, pure and simple, led him to his discovery. When Ellie zipped next door to confront her volatile landlady, Kurt took advantage of the small window of opportunity to search her apartment. Pocket flashlight in hand, he walked the perimeter of her living room. He glanced over the bookshelves once, then something caught his eye. It was a tiny inconsistency at best—one book wedged into place where the others fit nicely on the shelf. Instinct made Kurt pull it out. A treasure fell into his hand. Further examination of that same book also revealed a bookplate with the name Eleanor Severance.

Kurt would have laughed had time not been so short. Instead, he shoved the book back into place while he pocketed his find. It was only after he called Vic to meet him at the NCIS building that regret settled in. Some part of him wanted her to be innocent. Seeing her seconds later, standing in the doorway backlit by candle light didn’t make it easier.

She’d drawn closer. Her lips beckoned. Her eyes were wide. He craved her. Then his gaze traveled to her hair and he saw what the landlady meant. The flaming red hair was nothing more than a wig. It was obvious now. It didn’t match her creamy complexion for one thing, and their earlier encounter had made it slip a little. Why couldn’t he see through the subterfuge before? Because he was blinded by a woman so skilled, so willing, so completely delectable that only a fool would say no?

A powerful gust of wind shook his car. Kurt clutched the wheel and swerved around a huge tumbleweed that bounced across the road. A muttered curse settled his nerves and put him back on course. For added measure, he unrolled his window and let the frigid air shock his system back to normal.

Maybe Jess was right. Maybe he did get too involved in his work. It seemed the older he got, the more he cared. Until last week, he’d chalked it up to professional aggression.

Now?

Kurt sighed. His objectivity had left him years ago. That thought made him laugh. He’d never had any objectivity. It was always about nailing the bad guy, digging and digging at the evidence until he’d put the criminal behind bars. He never gave up. He’d made it his single quest in life to find evil and punish it. Great on a resume when you could say you never had an unsolved case. Crummy when solving cases meant you isolated yourself and spent most nights alone.

"I wonder what her hair really looks like."Long? Short? Definitely dark, he decided, because her

eyebrows were dark. He imagined his thumbs delicately tracing those arches, his fingers slipping down to her jaw, around her neck, pulling her closer. Kurt opened his mouth in anticipation of the imagined kiss.

"Damn it all!" With a snarl he ripped off the itchy brown beard and slung it to the passenger seat. The scent of her that lingered was driving him crazy. What had he been thinking? Oral sex with a fake beard? He’d clean it well tonight.

The hairpiece was next. He tossed it aside and raked life back into his own hair. The woman was a suspect, end of story. A clever seductress who wormed her way under a man’s skin. More than one man’s skin. He’d be smart to remember that or he’d wind up as her next victim.

He flashed his ID for the Marine sentry at the front gate, then drove on to the office. Vic shouldn’t be far behind despite the reluctance in his voice when Kurt called. Kurt didn’t blame him. If he had a wife to go home to, he wouldn’t want to be out on a night like this either. Thankfully, Helen was one hundred percent understanding of the demands placed on Vic’s shoulders. She also put up with his quirky sense of humor. They made a great couple.

Kurt slipped into his parking space and tugged his suede jacket closed. Still a gust of icy wind stole his breath away. Typical desert winter weather—all blow, no rain. Kurt detested being cold. This was the only time of the year he hated living in Twentynine Palms. He couldn’t wait for spring.

He’d barely had time to flip on a light switch and take out the brown contact lenses before Vic blew in through the door behind him.

"Boy, it’s freezing out there." Vic’s hazel eyes snapped and his olive skin was ruddy from the cold. He dusted the chill from his arms. "Okay, I’m here. Whatcha got?"

Lifting the tiny baggie from his pocket, Kurt held it up by one corner. "Is this what I think it is?"

Vic widened his eyes and nodded slowly. "Well, it’s not baking soda, that’s for sure. At least not the kind I grew up with. Looks like ketamine to me. Of course, we won’t know until it’s analyzed. Where’d you find it?"

Kurt tossed it to the tabletop. "Stuffed in a book belonging to one Eleanor Severance. Name sound familiar?"

Vic’s eyebrows inched together. "Can’t place it. Is this from the blackmailing case you’re working?"

"Yep."

"That’s awfully nice and neat. Both our cases all rolled into one. Seems a little too pat. Could be a coincidence. Maybe she’s just a buyer, not the dealer."

"Could be." But he’d seen stranger things happen over the course of his career. They shouldn’t discount this as a possible lead.

Vic led the way toward their shared office. "I’ve got to tell you, I hope this is a new trail for us. I just got word from Jess that our main suspect died about an hour ago from injuries sustained during one hell of a beating."

He started to log the substance as evidence. Pen in hand, Vic poised over the evidence tag and flicked his gaze up to Kurt.

"I’m almost afraid to ask this, but…did you have a search warrant before you rifled her place?"

Kurt didn’t dignify his stupidity with an answer. He looked away and made a big show of straightening his desk.

Vic threw the pen on the desktop. "Great. Damn it, Kurt! Illegal search and seizure. You know a lawyer will toss that out in a heartbeat. The least you could’ve done was put the stuff back when you found it,then gone in with a search warrant. What the hell were you thinking?"

Damn fine question.And there wasn’t an answer in the world he could give to justify his actions. He hadn’t thought; he’d reacted. Another example of objectivity gone awry.

"And if you wanted to preserve your anonymity, this is a stupid way to do it," Vic snapped. "What the hell is she going to think when she finds it missing?"

Kurt rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Okay, so I screwed up. Just log it in. We’ll find more evidence. With any luck, she’ll think her landlady took it."

Vic shot him a glare.

"I can’t very well put the stuff back now. You sit there all high and mighty about illegal search and seizure, but what do you think will happen if I get caughtplanting evidence?"

Vic made a sound somewhere between a grunt and snort, then snatched up the pen, tagged the packet, and put it in the evidence locker.

"I’ll have it tested first thing Monday morning. We can discuss the results with DEA’s Agent Duncan."

Kurt merely nodded. He didn’t want to contribute anything that might lead to another discussion of his lapse in judgment.

Vic seemed inclined to let it go as well. He shrugged on his jacket as they walked toward the door. A broad smile cut the tension on his face. "Helen and I were just getting ready to go out for a late dinner down in Palm Springs. The power’s on down there and Helen’s dying to try the new bistro on Palm Canyon Drive. Care to join us? Janie’s up visiting with us for a few days."

Kurt ignored his first instinct, which was to run the other way. He and Janie Brighton had dated very briefly. He hadn’t seen her since Vic and Helen’s wedding last spring.

She was a nice enough woman, pretty and intelligent, but she lacked the spark of life Kurt liked in a woman. She also came with a lot of baggage, not that Kurt blamed her. If he’d gone through an abusive marriage like she had, he’d have issues, too. He just wasn’t the man to help her through it. Still, she was

there and accommodating. It might be just what he needed to ease his tension and get his mind off a certain someone. With a sexual outlet to relieve his needs, getting the goods on his alluring suspect was as good as done.

"Sounds great. I’ll be right behind you."

"Great." Vic clapped him on the back. "Meet you at the house."

Kurt knew he’d made a mistake the second he laid eyes on Janie again. She greeted him with a full-body hug that promised he’d get something out of it later. He squeezed her once, then set her away from him. Rather than being enticed, he’d swear his libido yawned. There wasn’t even a flicker of interest.

On the hour drive to Palm Springs, he only half-listened to her recap of the last nine months. Thankfully, Helen kept the conversation going with questions of her own. Kurt didn’t have to say a thing. He stared out the window. Patches of light swept the landscape here and there as power was slowly restored.

He sat across from Janie at dinner. Try as he might to give her his full attention, his steak held more interest. Each time he looked at her petite features, he compared her to the knockout he’d held in his arms earlier that evening. The memory sent hot blood racing through his veins, making him flush with heat. He was beginning to think Ellie had slipped him some sort of mind-clouding drug. She was a suspect in two cases, and his better judgment told him to stay far away, but his body knew what it wanted.

If Janie, Helen, or Vic noticed his lack of attention, they were polite enough to keep it to themselves. Finally, they were back at Vic and Helen’s darkened house.

Helen gave Janie a hug and offered her an oil lamp and a book of matches. "We’re going to call it a night. You two know where the guest room is." Then Kurt and Janie were left alone.

"It’s been a long time." She struck a match, lit the wick, then set the lamp on an end table.

"Sure has."

With that comment, she stepped closer and pressed her hand to his chest. The memory of an oil-slicked caress intruded. Was it really fair to Janie to make love to her while pretending she was someone else? His libido screamed yes. Thankfully, his conscience and common sense prevailed.

Kurt laced his fingers through hers and tugged her hand down. "I’m sorry, Janie. We both know it wouldn’t be right."

She gave a soft, regretful laugh and nodded. "Not right, but awfully good."

He kissed her forehead and stepped away. "Good night. It was good seeing you again. Enjoy the rest of your visit."

"I will." She walked him to the door and shut it gently but firmly on his exit.

Long strides took Kurt to his car. He was crazy, foolish, and in less than five minutes standing before Ellie’s door. So much for common sense. Without hesitation, he rapped the door, once, twice. It was insane.

He heard footsteps approaching. The door opened only as far as the chain lock. All was dark expect for the candles that still flickered within. He got a glimpse of long, dark curls and swallowed hard.

"Ellie, I—"

"Not tonight, Kurt," she softly replied. "I got some rather bad news after you left. A friend of mine just died. I…I think I’d like to be alone for now. I’ll call you tomorrow."

She shut the door without another word. Kurt leaned against it, breathing hard. Did she find the packet missing and suspect him? Did she have another liaison in there?

What? What? What? his mind screamed. And it was all he could do to keep from breaking down the door to find out.

Inch by inch he forced himself away.Tomorrow.

***

Ellie sagged against the door. It seemed like forever until she heard his car start up. The second he pulled away, the electricity flashed back on. She smacked off the light switch. Darkness was more appropriate for her grief.

Maybe she was a fool to forgo the comfort Kurt’s arms offered. But their relationship was so new. The last thing he needed to deal with was her sorrow, her overwhelming guilt.

A new flood of hot tears drifted down her cheeks. If she had only listened to Jeremy, taken the time to see him when he asked for help, maybe he’d be alive now. This was as much her fault as if she’d delivered those punishing blows.

Susan.She should call Susan. Together they could support each other and maybe make sense of this. Hands shaking, Ellie dialed her friend’s number. All she got in reply was the answering machine. She hung up without leaving a message. Of course—her last minute plans. What was she thinking? Saturday night? Susan hadn’t spent a Saturday night alone since Ellie met her.

She wandered through the house snuffing out the candles retrieved from Bernadette. The thought of installing a double dead bolt had its appeal. That would definitely tighten old Bernie’s jaw. Of course, the old bat would probably triple charge her for damage to her door. As far as Ellie was concerned, Bernie could keep the security deposit.

Ellie trudged upstairs. A long soak in the tub had its appeal, but she was too weary to draw a bath. The oil lingering on her hands made her change her mind. She cranked on the faucets, wiped off the remains of her makeup, and stepped into the warm water.

Afterward, wrapped in the warmth of a thick terrycloth robe, she slipped under her covers, Hades

curled by her side and cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, Ellie’s mood matched the foul weather outside. Grief over Jeremy’s death combined with lingering anger from the shouting match with Bernadette made for a throbbing headache. She crawled out from between her warm sheets, shuffled to the medicine cabinet, and gulped down a handful of aspirin.

Downstairs, a certain four-legged feline meowed for breakfast, and rubbed around her ankles to ensure he couldn’t be ignored. Bowing to his demands, Ellie dumped some food into his bowl. Hades dove in like he hadn’t eaten in days.

She wandered to the bay window and tucked herself on the bench. The sky was overcast, the usual pure blue of the desert sky sullied with ominous gray clouds. The wind had died down a bit, but persistent gusts scattered pieces of dead leaves and miscellaneous desert debris all over the yard. She let the drape fall and considered crawling back into bed.

The thought of Jeremy’s battered body weighed heavily on her mind. Gut instinct told her it had something to do with that mysterious powder. She never should have taken it home. She should have given it to Jess Alderman immediately, not put it aside because she would be inconvenienced before a date.

Once more her priorities were skewed. Kurt surely would have understood a delay like that, wouldn’t he? If not, then wasn’t it best to learn the kind of man he was before she got too involved?

Ellie shut her eyes and leaned into the window. But she hadn’t bothered to test him. She was so intent on making her new relationship work that she’d shoved aside the welfare of a friend. The realization made her feel dirty, unworthy of herself.

Trudging back to the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee then marched upstairs for a long morning shower. She always did her best thinking in the shower, and the past three days had given her a lot to consider. The stinging spray pounded against her skin and head, soaking her dark hair and weighing it down in ropy tendrils down her back. Clouds of steam billowed and caressed her body. Sighing, she lathered her hair with her favorite shampoo. The hot water enhanced the scent of almonds and cherry bark. It did little to lift her plummeting spirits.

When she declared she wanted a change on her birthday, little did she realize it would be for the worst.

Her whole character had shifted from selfless to selfish. And this thing with Kurt. She’d known him less than a day and already tumbled into sexual exploits she and Allan never considered in the few months they were together.

Okay, so she hadn’t planned on having a sexual encounter with a stranger, but she sure didn’t say no or hesitate when the chance…arose. Ellie tried to tell herself it evolved out of their mutual attraction as well as her need to fill the emptiness in her life. Please. Who was she kidding with that Freudian claptrap? He was gorgeous and she was horny. Plain and simple.

The word made her laugh. Desperate was a better term. She was so desperate for a change she’d do anything to institute one—even sleep with a virtual stranger. Her mother was right. Her little girl was going to hell in a hand basket.

Ellie scrubbed her scalp with vigor, trying to remember all Kurt had told her about himself. He never said much about his personal life or his family. The one time he had mentioned his sister, the no trespassing sign had gone up in huge neon letters. Subjects like discussing Oscar-nominated movies or the best Chinese restaurant in the area had been the focus of their conversations, not where he was employed or what his telephone number was.

His telephone number.She didn’t even have a way to contact him. Ellie ducked under the spray to rinse the suds out of her hair and shook her head, which served to get the last of the lather out of her hair as well as express her disbelief at her own stupidity. Last night she told him she’d call. She had no way to do so. Well, she’d wanted a test. This was it. If he were still interested, he’d call her. When he did, he was in for a surprise the next time they met. That stupid crimson wig was going back into its box, never to see the light of day again.

Ellie smoothed conditioner into her hair, then reached for her body soap and washcloth. "Think, Ellie! You’ve got other things to worry about."

Bernadette’s promise to not extend the condo’s lease surged to the forefront of her thoughts. Ellie wrung out her washcloth and slung it over the towel bar. She hated house hunting and abhorred moving. The idea of the base’s Bachelor Enlisted Quarters held little appeal. The rooms were barely larger than one big bedroom.

One of the reasons she had specifically looked for a condo to rent once she arrived in Twentynine Palms was that her books took up a lot of room and the housing provided on base was spartan at best. Enlisted housing would mean that most of the collection would have to go into storage, and Ellie wouldn’t want to

sacrifice Melville, Tolkien, and Faulkner to the disgusting creepy-crawlies that lived in storage sheds.

Turning off the water, she stood a moment and dripped, feeling the chill air creep around the curtain and into her warm, steamy cubicle. Base quarters were definitely out. She’d start looking for another place right after Christmas.

She finally dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a charcoal gray sweatshirt withENTERPRISE emblazoned across the front, a gift from her father who worked as a civilian contractor for the Navy in San Diego. Seeing it made her lonely for the sound of his voice even though they’d talked just the other day. Still, a lifetime of events had happened since then. Talking with him might help her put things into perspective.

God, how she’d loved having her father near. All those years apart. After the divorce, Ellie’s mother had made life so miserable for him it was easier for father and daughter to keep their visits within the constraints set by the custody settlement. Holidays and vacations. The second she turned eighteen, and Ellie was on her own, that ended. There was rarely a week that didn’t pass without them speaking and never a holiday without each other.

Thankfully, her father had gotten past the pain of his first marriage and remarried. His new wife was an easygoing woman with three grown children. She owned a small jewelry store in San Diego’s Old Town. Some of Ellie’s best summer vacations had been spent exploring the beaches of Coronado Island and wandering the tree-lined avenues of Balboa Park. Who wouldn’t love a family like that? Her mother, that’s who.

Ellie found the cordless phone, curled up in the middle of her bed, and dialed her father’s number. It rang three times before Dee picked up.

"Hello there, sunshine," her stepmother said cheerfully. "How are things up in the high desert?"

"Cold and windy." The honest affection in Dee’s voice choked Ellie with tears. "Is Dad there? I need to speak with him."

"Sure thing, hon. Hang on and I’ll get him. He’s under the sink trying to unplug the garbage disposal. He’ll think you’re a heaven-sent reprieve." Dee laughed and set the phone down.

Ellie heard a lilting "Nathan!" and had to smile. As traumatic as her parents’ divorce had been, it soon became obvious Dee was a better wife for her father, one that would make him happy, not nag him for every little fault.

"Hello, Cookie!"

Ellie grinned. She loved her father’s voice. People were always surprised when that deep baritone came out of his mouth. Nathan Severance was average height with pleasant features, but when he spoke, people gave him their attention.

"Hi, Daddy, how are you?"

"I’m fine, now I’m out from beneath that dratted disposal. Next time we have spaghetti, I’ll remember not to put the leftover pasta down the drain. Plugged the darn thing up like a bucket of cement. It’s been a real pain in the ass. I had to take the entire u-bend off."

"Speaking of pains in the asses—"

"Howis your mother anyway?"

Despite herself, Ellie laughed. "She’s on the rampage again, and if she calls you, I wanted you to be aware of what’s going on." Ellie proceeded to tell her father about the new cell phone and about Bernadette feeding her mother outrageous stories about Ellie’s private life. "And so, Daddy, I think Mother has some warped idea about what’s going on out here in Twentynine Palms and I think she’s going to blame it on your influence."

He snorted. "She thinks I’m the cause of all her ills, both real and imaginary. Ah, well, nothing I haven’t dealt with before. I’ll be my charming self, let her get in a few insults, then remind her how much long distance costs. That usually gets her off of the line fast."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"Thank you, Cookie, for giving me the heads up. By the way, how’re you doing out there really? You don’t sound your normal chipper self. Birthday number twenty-eight still got you down?"

"No, it’s…"You see, Daddy, I’ve made a botch of things. I’m not your sweet, little girl any more. I let a friend down and he’s dead just because I wanted to make love with a man I desired beyond all reason. "I just wanted to tell you about Mom, that’s all. Good luck with the disposal. Love you bunches."

She waited for his farewell, then ended the call before her voice could give her away. Much as she wanted to talk to him, the words just wouldn’t come. It looked like she was going to have to sort out this mess herself.

Ellie punched in Susan’s number once more, then disconnected.Sunday… Susan would be at work. Ellie remembered her complaining about it the other day. Poor thing. A former lover and good friend was dead. Susan would be a mess. Having to work would be doubly hard. This was one person Ellie wouldn’t let down. She grabbed her thick blue winter jacket and an umbrella from the peg behind the door and headed for the garage.

The Naval Hospital was quiet that Sunday. Ellie walked through the main quarterdeck area up to the information window, and showed her military identification card.

"I’m here to see Petty Officer Bolotnik. I know where she works."

The corpsman on duty merely nodded and waved her on.

Cutting through the lobby and walking along the main corridor, she passed the alcoves containing the chapel and the pharmacy. Aside from a harried mother waiting to fill a prescription for her sniffling toddler, there were no patients or penitents waiting.

A sharp right turn took her down the long hall to the Outpatient Wing. Optical services, Obstetrics, and Pediatrics were located here as well as Susan’s current assignment, Family Practice. Ellie approached the civilian nurse at the desk and asked if Susan were on duty.

The man was cheerful. Slow days were boring and the opportunity to chat up a friendly face was irresistible.

"Petty Officer Bolotnik? Sure, she’s here today. I think she’s gone over to the records department to pull files for tomorrow’s appointments. She’s always over there on Sundays since we’re so slow around here. Says the busywork keeps her from going crazy."

Ellie thanked him and made her way back along the hallway, this time turning into a small doorway just before the quarterdeck.

She walked into the records office and glanced around. It didn’t look as if anyone was around. The clerks who usually staffed the area were gone for the weekend, and the on-duty ensign was nowhere to be seen. Walls of filing cabinets stretched around the corner to her left, so Ellie decided to take a chance and see for herself if Susan was around.

She stuck her head around a corner and saw her friend crouched down at the end of the aisle, several brown medical record folders spread around her on the floor. She had an open folder in one hand and several papers in the other that she was peering at and frowning.

Ellie took a step forward. "There you are."

Susan shrieked and tipped backwards onto her bottom. The folders flew high and wide, scattering their papers everywhere like pigeons bursting into the air. Eyes dilated with shock, Susan glared up at Ellie.

"Damn you, Ellie. What kind of a lousy trick was that? Shit!" She lurched to her feet and scooped papers off of the floor.

"I was hardly quiet. You could hear my shoes squeaking all the way down the hall." Ellie bent over, grabbed a handful of papers off the floor, and tried to arrange them into an orderly stack by patient name.

"Give me those!" Susan snatched them away. "They’re confidential."

"Chill out." She took a moment, then tried again. "I heard about Jeremy. I thought you might want to talk."

Susan’s face twisted with agony. "I know. Just go. I don’t want to talk about him right now. I could just…" She didn’t finish her sentence, just shook her blonde curls, set her jaw and continued her clean-up job.

Ellie had never seen Susan so upset before. Maybe she knew how Ellie had let Jeremy down and blamed her for his death.

"Susan, I’m sorry, I feel so guilty—"

"Shut up, Ellie. Just shut up. I can’t deal with you or your stupid problems right now." She tucked her chin to her chest and continued to reorganize the folders.

Hurt, Ellie backed away and left. Maybe with time they could repair the breach in their friendship. That didn’t stop regret from clogging her throat.

Head down, she hurried from the building and smacked into someone coming in through the huge set of sliding doors.

"Whoa there." Jess Alderman grabbed her elbows to steady her.

Ellie fumbled for an apology. He waved her attempts aside with one large hand.

"It’s all right. You’ve just lost a friend. I can understand the distraction."

His warm smile helped ease her concerns. She offered a weak one in return.

"Actually, I’m glad I ran into you," he said. "I was going to call you later anyway. I’m here to see if anyone might have visited him before his death, but since you’re a friend I thought you wouldn’t mind coming down to NCIS headquarters and trying to fill in some blanks for us."

Finally, a chance to help Jeremy. "I was going to call you as well."

Her gaze wavered. She couldn’t bear to look in his eyes when she told him what she’d done. "Before you arrived, I found a tiny packet filled with a grayish-white powdery substance. I took it home intending to give it to you later. I’ve got it tucked away in a secure spot."

"Is there a reason you didn’t tell me this right away?" His voice held a note of disappointment.

Her head drooped. She felt like a child again, facing her father’s wrath. "No, not a good one. I had a date that night and didn’t want anything to interfere. I… It’s… A date is a rare thing for me."

Jess loosed a long sigh. "Well, I don’t like it, but I suppose I understand. Why don’t you go back home and get the packet? I’ll meet you at my office in about an hour."

Ellie nodded and hustled to her car before he decided to lecture her. With any luck, the baggie would have fingerprints on it. Jeremy’s and maybe the person who had given it to him, or beaten him up. She had been very careful handling it. If that little packet could help solve Jeremy’s murder…

Just the prospect of helping atone for her lapse in judgment lifted Ellie’s spirits. By the time she reached her apartment, not even the sight of Bernadette slinking through the garage could bring her down.

She swung open her door, shoved the car keys in her pocket, and marched to the bookshelves. The book was there, protecting the evidence that might identify Jeremy’s killer. With shaking hands, she pulled it free and flipped through the pages. Despair, fear, and a thousand other negative emotions slammed into her.

The packet was gone.

Chapter 10

The persistent blast of his doorbell nagged Kurt to crawl out of bed. He tucked his head under his pillow in a valiant attempt to block out the sound. A glimpse of the clock as he ducked for cover told him it was noon. He’d been asleep for five hours.

He groaned and mashed the pillow over his ears. Ellie was a magnet that enticed him ever closer. After leaving her place the night before, he was drawn back within minutes, and parked outside, watching like a demented stalker. At first, he told himself he was merely keeping track of his suspect, trying to see if she had lured another poor Marine into her sensual web.

But Kurt knew deep inside that his vigil had little to do with protecting an innocent man and everything to do with jealousy. The very notion someone was getting what he so desperately craved ate at his gut. In one crazed moment, he even crept to her bay window to see if he could hear any sounds of sex going on. An attempt at the second story thwarted his efforts.

It wasn’t until dawn that better sense prevailed. No other cars were parked near the complex, at least not since he’d surveyed the area earlier. Still, he didn’t budge until he saw the light flick on inside. He took off before she saw his car at the curb. Once confined to his own house, Kurt jumped into an icy shower, hoping the chill would shock his system back to normal. All it did was tighten him more. There was no choice. A quick release of pent-up tension with the memory of her body pressed against him, then sleep finally dragged him down into the depths.

Kurt poked his ear from beneath the pillow. Silence. He stretched, sighed contentedly, and let sleep reach for him once more. A solid tap and Vic Brownell’s annoyed voice through his bedroom window

wrenched him back to wakefulness. He threw the pillow across the room, tossed the covers off, and stomped toward the window. With one yank he tore open the curtains.

"What?"

Vic frowned at him and spoke through the screen where the window was cracked open. "It’s about time, Sleeping Beauty. Open the damn door."

Kurt dropped the curtain and marched to the front door. By the time he had it open, Vic was already shoving past him.

"I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour. Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

"Because it didn’t ring." Still half-groggy, Kurt stumbled to the table near his bedroom where he emptied the litter from his pockets each night. His cell phone lay there, lifeless. "The battery’s dead."

Vic splayed his hands atop his hips. "And the other phone?"

"Ringer’s turned off." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I figured if anyone wanted to reach me that badly, they could call on the cell. Yes, I know I’m an idiot. So what’s going on?"

Without answering, Vic walked to the kitchen and looked around for a cup of coffee. When he spotted the remains of Saturday’s pot, poured himself a mug and shoved it into the microwave.

"You might want to nuke a cup yourself to take along with you to the office," Vic said as Kurt propped himself against the kitchen doorway. The microwave timer pinged, and Vic removed his now-steaming drink. He blew across it carefully. "I just got a call from Jess. He’s got a new lead in the ketamine case. Thought you might want to come in with me."

"Why?" Shuddering at the thought of day-old coffee, Kurt yanked the carafe from the coffee maker, emptied its sludgy contents down the drain and shoved it under the tap.

"Because our new lead is Eleanor Severance. And she’s got a meeting with Jess in his office in thirty minutes."

Kurt twisted off the water in shock. "How…" It didn’t matter. Jess had sources J. Edgar Hoover would have envied. "Screw the coffee. Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right behind you."

A single nod and Vic was out the door. Kurt ran a toothbrush over his teeth while he combed his hair, then buzzed his razor over his morning beard. Still moving, he tossed on a long-sleeved Mets T-shirt, found a pair of jeans, then jerked on socks and his Nikes. He paused only long enough to slather peanut butter on a piece of bread before he zipped out the door. A quick stop at the McDonald’s drive-thru for a cup of coffee held appeal, but Jess would have coffee at the shop. His need to see Jess’ new information overrode any caffeine cravings. He washed down his breakfast with a slug of tepid water from the liter bottle he kept in his car.

They were going to end this today. Eleanor Severance was going down. Out of his system and out of his life forever. The look in her eyes when she realized she was caught would be priceless—feigned innocence, then shock, finally anger. All were preferable to that smoky glow he remembered when she was aroused. Kurt clutched at the former image, using it as a shield against the latter as he drove onto base.

Vic waited for him at the entrance to their building, an extra cup of heaven-sent coffee in his hand. Ellie’s red VW was in the parking lot.

"Severance was here when I got back. I haven’t gone in to see her yet. Wanted to wait for you." He handed Kurt the steaming styrofoam cup.

Kurt nodded his thanks. "I’d prefer to keep the incident with the packet between us for now. I want to wait until I hear what she has to say before I tell Jess we have it in the lockup."

Vic shoved the door wide, eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. "I haven’t squealed on you yet. Don’t intend to either. I figure you’ve covered my back more than once over the years. You seem to always come through in the clinch for me, whether you’re wearing combat boots or high heels." His reference to Kurt’s infamous Kiki LaRue disguise drew a smile from them both.

"Thanks." Kurt clapped Vic on the shoulder and the two strode down the hall. With each eager step, his heart beat a little harder, his body pulsed to life. He was going to see Ellie as she truly was. Then he caught his first daylight glimpse of her, and paused in the doorway.

Long, dark hair fell in shiny waves down to the middle of her back. She sported faded jeans, but had topped it off with a gray sweatshirt that hid her figure. She raked her fingers through that heavy mass of hair. Long fingers on a delicate hand. Only he knew the power of her touch. He and about a hundred other men.

Jess’ gaze slid their way. "Ah, gentlemen. Glad you could join us. I believe you both know Staff Sergeant Severance."

Staff Sergeant?Kurt stomach knotted. By slow degrees she looked over her shoulder at them. Her stormy gray eyes were huge behind her glasses.Good God, it’s her! His nemesis. The thorn in his side. The woman who gave him the heebie-jeebies every time he came near her. And last night he and this mousy little court reporter had clung together in what could only be described as passion. She had climaxed beneath his touch in an unfettered explosion that rocked him to the core of his soul.

Kurt wanted to be disgusted; all his body wanted was to do it again. Without the wig, she was less exotic, but more real. Everything fit—the silky brown hair, the dark eyes, the pale porcelain skin.

"Yes…we’ve met," she said in that annoyed tone so much a part of their normal communication. "I believe you’ve spilled your coffee." She pointed to the cup in his hand.

Kurt glanced down. His thumb had poked a hole clear through the styrofoam and a stream of hot coffee had poured down on the toe of his scuffed Nikes. Muttering a curse, Kurt tossed the cup into Jess’ trash can, then snagged a wad of tissues from the box on his desk. As he bent to mop up the mess, he caught a whiff of her fragrance. Sweet, elusive, uniquely Ellie. Heat spread throughout his extremities.

Kurt dared a glance up. She stared down at him. Slowly one delicate eyebrow arched. She plucked a Kleenex from the box and handed it to him. He clutched it, frozen in place.

"If I’m not mistaken, Agent Duncan, I believe you have peanut butter on the corner of your mouth."

He wiped it away with the pad of his fingers. Then deliberately sucked the peanut butter off while staring straight into her face. "Anything else you care to nag me about, Staff Sergeant?"

She crossed her arms under her bosom and leaned back against the desk. "Just pointing out your flaws as you seem so fond of doing to me."

At that point, Kurt couldn’t pinpoint what those flaws were if someone held a gun to his head.

Jess cleared his throat. "If the two of you are done sparring, I’d like to get down to business."

Kurt gave a final swipe to the floor, tossed the soggy tissue into the trash and propped himself against a cluttered bookcase on the farthest wall from her.

Jess laced his fingers before him on the desk. "Staff Sergeant Severance was the one who found Jeremy Forton outside the Lost Oasis yesterday morning. Staff Sergeant, would you please tell us what happened, starting from the beginning once more for my co-workers?"

Kurt watched her profile as she launched into her story. Every movement, every expression was open. No signs of deception. Her voice was strong and earnest. Instead of the anger he was accustomed to coming from Staff Sergeant Severance, he heard a subdued Ellie Severance’s grave account of Saturday morning’s events.

She described finding her friend, discovering the baggie, hiding it because she didn’t want her evening plans ruined, then its vanishing from the book. All very innocent, and he acknowledged she could very well be guiltless of ketamine distribution. But Kurt wondered how she would fare if they started delving into her other activities.

"I just don’t understand who could’ve taken that baggie. I had it hidden very well."

Jess steepled his fingers and leaned back, tilting his chair slightly. "What about the gentleman you went

out with last night?"

"You mean Kurt?"

Jess lost his balance and fell over backwards. Kurt and Vic reached over from both sides to help him up. He swatted their assistance away and righted the chair. "Damn thing. Second time this week it’s done that to me. Think I’d know better by now."

Vic balanced on the corner of Jess’ desk. "I doubt it was her date, Jess. How would he have known to look for anything?"

Kurt parked himself back at the bookcase. Despite Vic’s attempt to steer suspicion away from him, the skeptical look on Ellie’s face could only mean trouble. He had to salvage this some way, point her in a different direction.

"Was there anyone else who had opportunity and motive? Whoever it was had to have the time and solitude to search."

Bingo!Her jaw tightened. The landlady was in Ellie’s sights. Kurt fought against a sigh of relief.

"I was gone for quite a while this morning," she said. "My landlady is notorious for snooping around my place and taking what she wants. She calls it borrowing. Last night I confronted her. She responded by telling me I had to be out of my condo by the end of January. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to find a reason to evict me sooner. If she found the baggie, she probably thinks it’s mine and will try to use it against me."

"Any chance she’d use it herself?" Vic asked.

Ellie tapped her finger against her arm and stared at the wall behind Vic. Finally, she shook her head. "It’s hard to tell with her. She’s capable of anything. Do you want me to bring in the book for fingerprinting?"

Jess waved the suggestion away with a shake of his head. "It would only prove she handled the book. She’ll say she borrowed it to read." He splayed his fingers on the desk and shoved himself to his feet. "I guess we’re done here. I’ll have the statement typed up tomorrow. Agent Duncan can bring it to you to read and sign. I appreciate your help."

Ellie stood and gave Kurt the once-over as she started to leave. Her mouth curved in a smile. It bothered Kurt that he noticed. He tried to retaliate with a quip.

"Searching for more peanut butter, Staff Sergeant?"

"As a matter of fact… Right here." She jabbed her finger into his left shoulder.

Kurt winced and grabbed for her wrist. Ellie was quicker. With a sly chuckle, she twisted away and slipped through the door. Jess followed. Kurt waited until he heard the outer door open, then let out a whoosh of air.

"Boy, she nailed me good on that one." He flexed the ache away with a few shoulder rolls.

"Almost like she knew where to hit," Vic said.

Good point.Did she know? Had his cover been blown? Was she pretending she didn’t know who he was? Was her admission about the packet just smoke and mirrors to throw them off? Kurt never got a chance to think beyond that point.

Jess swooped back down on them like a hawk attacking prey. "Her?" He jerked his thumb toward the exit. "She’sEllie?She’s your blackmail suspect? Have you lost your mind? She’s the least likely woman in the world to be—"

"Aren’t you the one who always says never discount the least likely person?" Kurt shot back.

Jess gave a humorless laugh. "Trust me. You’re way off mark on this one, my friend. That woman spends weekdays at work. Week nights and weekends at my wife’s bookstore. By her own admission, you were the first date she’s had in ages."

"I’d say she should get her money back." Vic laughed.

"Shut up, Vic. Think about it, both of you. What better way to throw us all off the scent than by projecting total innocence." Kurt turned up his palms, pleading with Jess’ sense of reason. "She was the one wearing the wig that night. Trust me. I know about the seductress that lies beneath her Mary Jane exterior."

Jess pinned him with a steady stare. "Do you now?"

Vic snickered and earned a glower of his own.

"Enough from you," Jess snapped, and turned back to Kurt. "I’m almost afraid to ask this next question."

"Then don’t and let me do my job. Even if she isn’t the blackmailer, she’s still the only tie we have to both Forton’s murder and the ketamine. I have a link with her. Let me use it, before she figures out Kurt Orin is really Kurt Orin Duncan, NCIS agent."

They stared at each other for what seemed like hours before Jess finally broke eye contact with a huge sigh.

"Go." He waved him away.

Kurt didn’t waste any time leaving. As he eased through the door he heard Jess ask Vic, "All right, where’s the baggie you two purloined?"

He jogged to his car before Jess had second thoughts. He’d have to do some fancy sweet talking now to crawl in under Ellie’s defenses. Hopefully, luck was on his side.

***

Ellie braked her car to a halt in the garage. It was a good thing Bernadette was gone. She didn’t trust what she’d say if the woman was here. Strangling her with Christmas garland seemed appropriate. Too bad she didn’t have any handy.

"Yes…too bad." A wicked smile grew. Ellie’s mere mention weeks ago that she wanted to decorate her condo for Christmas had set Bernadette off on a tirade of mythical proportions. The woman didn’t want pine needles stuck in her carpet and never gave Ellie the chance to explain she owned an artificial tree.

"No more ordering me around, you old biddy." She’d strap an eight-foot scotch pine to the roof of her Volkswagen if she had to. Ellie knew it sounded childish, but it seemed the best way to get even was to get under Bernie’s skin and dig in like a tick on a dog. It was time to declare war on her landlady.

Thirty minutes later, she started to regret her choice of weapons. A beautiful Christmas tree was indeed tied to the roof of her little car, courtesy of the brawny elves at the tree stand in Yucca Valley. Now, she just had to figure out a way to get the enormous thing off and inside. Just as she was standing in the garage gazing at the tree and mulling over her problem, Bernadette cruised to a stop beside her.

"What, pray tell, is that?"

"Looks like a blue spruce to me," Kurt’s low rumble replied.

Ellie looked around. He lounged against the garage door, arms crossed, a naughty grin highlighting his dark eyes. She grinned. Therewas a Santa Claus.

Ellie reached for her glasses to tuck them away, then dropped her hands. He had to know sometime that she wore glasses and was blind as a bat without them.

Kurt strolled forward, slipped a pocket knife from his jeans, and cut the ropes. The fragrant tree rolled

to the garage floor, effectively blocking Bernadette inside her car.

"Sorry," he said with a bright smile.

Ellie smothered a laugh behind her hand. Giving her a wink, he grabbed the trunk and dragged it to the adjoining kitchen door. Bernadette didn’t budge until they were inside, then she announced her displeasure by slamming both car and kitchen door hard.

Kurt smiled. "Now that was worth just about all the money in the world."

"I’m starting to think you are, too." She tossed her arms around his neck. "I’ve decided that you’re an early gift from Santa’s little elves."

He cupped her bottom and tugged her closer. "I can honestly say no one’s ever told me that before." He picked up one long tendril of her hair and curled it around his finger while he studied it. Then he raised one eyebrow in question.

Ellie flushed and pulled it free. "The other was a wig. I just wanted to try something different."

"I gathered that from her snide comments last night. I like it better this way. Soft, pretty. Perfect for you." He lifted an eyebrow. "And your opinion?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I’m not a wig person. Or a red head either."

"And the glasses? You were wearing contacts?"

"No, I was being stupid and vain. Can’t see without them. Never again. This is the real me."Take it or leave it.

He smiled. "And not bad from what I can see. I’m sorry about your friend." His tone turned somber. "I wish you’d have let me stay last night."

Ellie pulled back. "I wish I had, too. Maybe that would have discouraged Bernadette from her latest theft."

"Steal something, did she?"

She paused, considering. "I think so. But this time…"

He cocked his head to one side, waiting for her to finish. She thought better of it. Not that she didn’t trust Kurt. She was afraid of what he might do if he learned how snoopy Bernadette had been. Nothing should jeopardize this case if she was going to do her part to put Jeremy’s murderer behind bars. Kurt didn’t need to be involved.

"Never mind. Thinking about it will only ruin the happy buzz I’ve got going." She slipped free, laced her fingers through his, and tugged him toward the living room. "Come on. Help me set up and decorate."

"It’s going to take a ton of Christmas decorations to cover this thing."

"And poor me, I’ve only got a quarter ton," she said with a laugh.

Kurt pulled her to a stop. "Then let’s get some more. I’ll even treat you to a dead bolt or two. Consider all of it another early Christmas present."

She feigned a gasp and clutched her hands over her heart. "A true romantic. No chocolates or roses for this charmer, only hardware will do. How could a lady possibly resist?"

"I’m hoping she won’t." He slipped his arm around her waist.

Ellie melted into his kiss. It would be so easy to give in, to tumble mindlessly into pleasure once more. Common sense tapped her on the shoulder. Reluctantly, she ended the embrace.

"Kurt, I…" She was torn between wanting to start back at the beginning, just get to know him, and the urge to tear off his clothes and give him a Christmas present of her own. How could she tell him how she felt without him thinking her a sexual deviant? Well, if that’s all that it took to chase him away, it was probably best to get it over with now.

"I know you might not believe this, but this is all rather new to me. Not sex, of course."

"Of course," he said with a smile.

Ellie felt her cheeks flame and avoided his gaze. "I mean it’s not like me to rush into sex. We just met and, well, last night we came pretty close to doing it without protection of any kind. I just wanted you to know that I’m not… I don’t usually…" her voice trailed off in embarrassed confusion.

He butted his forehead against hers, then rubbed his dark beard against her cheek. It felt soft and prickly at the same time. "Not having protection was my fault entirely, and something else to put on our shopping list."

No.Ellie bit her lip. She definitely could not go shopping for condoms with him. That was way too intimate.

"Just in case," he added. "We do nothing unless we both agree. Unless we’re both ready."

This close to him, he felt plenty ready to her. Ellie nodded. "I’ll tell you what. Help me set up the tree. I’ll throw on what I’ve got while you do your…um…specialty shopping. If we’re not pleased with the tree when I finish, we’ll head to Wal-Mart for backup decorations."

He smiled and squeezed her gently. "You’ve got a deal. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to leave this place unguarded for a second. Trust me, I’ll install a dead bolt a pro would have trouble breaking."

Ellie began stringing lights and ornaments on the tree, and before she knew it, Kurt returned from his trip to town before she had a chance to miss him. If he’d purchased more than dead bolts, he kept that information to himself. They teased and joked while they worked on their separate tasks.

It felt comfortable and homey like she had known Kurt forever, not just a few days. This was what Ellie needed to heal her heart and repair her battered spirit.

"This is a beautiful tree, if I do say so myself." Kurt stood back, legs astride, hands on hips as he admired their handiwork. The proud spruce was draped with strands of tiny lights,. Their glow shone off the lovely tin ornaments Ellie had collected over the years. At the very top, a glass star glowed like a homing beacon.

Ellie draped the last bit of tinsel over a branch and joined him. "Not bad," she agreed.

"I can’t believe how you made so little stretch so far."

"I can be very economical when the need arises." Too economical at times, but at least she had some good savings to show for it. She shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. "You know, maybe contacts aren’t such a bad idea."

Kurt moved an ornament higher. "You could always do lasik surgery."

Laughing, she held up her hands. "Whoa. Too much, too quick. One thing at a time."

"Good." Without warning, he swung her into his arms and off her feet. "Then how about some dinner? I’m starved."

Her heart hammered against her ribs. She traced his lips with her finger, then smoothed his beard and mustache. Dinner was the last thing she had in mind. "Make love to me, Kurt. It’s been forever since—"

"Shhh, you don’t have to explain to me, Ellie."

She was good at her game, Kurt would give her that. This nice little domestic scene was better than any seduction he’d ever had. She relaxed her prey, then begged for what she had been so unsure of hours before. He applauded her efforts, especially since he’d been hard for her most of the afternoon. No doubt about it, she was going to get what she was asking for, but it was going to be on his terms. It was time to throw her off guard.

"There are all kinds of levels of making love. Some people would say we’ve been doing that all afternoon by just being together." He’d read that crap in a woman’s magazine once while he waited for a dentist appointment. "Laughing, joking, being quietly together—all part of the process."

She traced her finger around his ear. Shivers wiggled down his spine. He prayed his hairpiece would stay in one spot, that she wouldn’t see the beard was fake.

"You’re a romantic." Her voice was the softest of whispers, like she’d meant to say that to herself but the words had slipped out on their own accord.

"Somehow I suspect you are, too." If he didn’t put her down now, he’d never gain control. He set her on her feet.

"Why don’t we start a fire, light the candles, call in a pizza, and uncork a bottle of wine. We have the whole evening before us."

He dipped forward. What he meant to be a simple kiss shivered into something more. As his lips touched her slightly parted ones, Kurt took the invitation and slipped his tongue within. She thrust back eagerly, setting off a fiery ache in his groin that demanded to be appeased.

He broke free on a gasp. "Good God, Ellie. Do you have any idea of what you do to a man?"

She shook her head. "No." Biting her bottom lip, she stepped back, tossed her glasses onto the window seat, and yanked the sweatshirt over her head. "It’s wanton, I know. But I can’t bear another second."

She reached around behind her. "I want a life. I don’t want to hide behind my walls anymore. Think what you want, but I need you."

Her bra straps slipped down her silken shoulders. Kurt shot a glance to the bay window. Drapes closed. Doors locked. Protection in his pocket, more in the kitchen. Then the bra slid to the floor, and with it, the last bit of sense he possessed.

Kurt felt his jaw drop. He was rooted to the spot while Ellie stripped the rest of her clothes away. He’d seen his share of naked women before, but none like this. Her body was tight without being overly muscular. Her skin was unblemished by the sun. Her shape was the perfect hour glass. His hands trembled to touch her, yet all he could do was stand and gape like an untutored schoolboy.

Step by step she approached him, like a traveler journeying down an uncertain path. With the first touch of her fingers at his waist, Kurt felt an electric shock course through his body. He couldn’t move to save his life.

She slipped her hands under his shirt and slowly pushed up until he had no choice but to pull it over his head. He tossed it to the pile where hers lay. Then she raked her short nails down his chest in slow, agonizing circles. She paused at his wound, kissed it, then traced her tongue around it. Kurt shuddered beneath her touch.

A surge built lower. Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore it. She moved on to his flat nipples, teasing one then the other until they were hard. Kurt’s throat went dry. He longed for something to grab hold of to steady himself against her wanton assault on his body and his senses.

Her fingers drifted to his jeans. The button fell open at her touch. She dipped inside, inching the zipper down as she reached for him.

A groan ripped from his throat. Ellie made a slight sound, shoved jeans and shorts down and nestled her breasts against him.

"You are magnificent." She wrapped one hand around the length. "So hard." Biting her bottom lip, she cupped his testicles. "So very hard everywhere."

Kurt snatched her hands away. "You’re killing me." His breath rasped in short, hard bursts.

She cast wide, innocent eyes his way, but her smile was pure seductress. "Am I now?"

"Yes." He toed off his shoes and kicked his legs free from his clothes. His hands shook as he fumbled for his wallet and the condom inside. "Witch, I swear I’ll make it up to you later, but I’ve got no time for foreplay right now."

"I was hoping you’d say that." She knelt slowly, then stretched out before the Christmas tree. "I want you. I want you deep inside me." The tip of her tongue flickered over her lower lip as she stared. The intensity was unnerving.

Her chest heaved with every breath. Her eyes were dilated, the black of her pupils almost swallowing the mysterious gray of her eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was scared. Ridiculous. He seated the condom with one smooth pull.

"And that’s just what you’re going to get." He lowered himself on her satiny body.

She draped her arms around his neck and twined her legs around his. One thrust drove him deep inside.

Ellie cried out.

God, she’s tight.Had he hurt her? He froze, but didn’t know if he could stop. She felt so good, so warm, it was pure torture. He struggled for control.

"Ellie, I’m sorry." His gasping breath mirrored her own. "I thought you were ready."

She nodded. "I am. It’s just been a long time and you’re so…overwhelming. I didn’t know a man could be so…big, so hard. And feel so good." Her voice was dreamy, mouth curved up with a slight smile.

He almost lost control right there, but when he tried to move away, she tightened her legs around his waist.

"No. Don’t go." Her body contracted around him.

Surely she wasn’t about to climax, was she? Kurt slipped his hand between them and brushed the hard nub with his thumb.

Ellie arched against him, mouth wide with pleasure. "Yes."

He braced himself on one elbow and rocked with her, each stroke of his thumb brought her closer, each roll of her hips tested his limits. A knock at the door froze them.

"That better not be your damn landlady," he growled.

"Ellie, come on. I know you’re in there," a woman called out. "I just got off of work and it’s cold out here."

She smacked the floor with her fist and swore. "It’s Susan, damn it."

"Maybe she’ll go away."

"Not any time soon. Let me get rid of her."

There didn’t seem to be much of a choice. With great concentration, he pulled free and reached for his clothes. "This is killing me, Ellie." His voice was tight, strained. "Hurry."

Ellie touched his arm. "Let’s just go to my room. I promise I’ll get rid of her." She scooped the clothes into her arms and led the way upstairs, giving Kurt a very nice view of her inviting backside as they hurried up the stairs.

"I’ll be right there, Susan," she shouted over her shoulder. She motioned Kurt inside her bedroom, then tossed on her terrycloth robe.

"I won’t be long." From the dresser top, she grabbed the red wig and what looked like the clothing she had on the night they’d met.

"What are you doing with all that?"

"I’m giving it back to Susan."

"Those are your friend Susan’s?" He was riveted by the objects in her arm. The mini-skirt and top.The red wig.

"Yes. I never should’ve let her talk me into playing dress up. But then we might not have met if she hadn’t. Don’t move. Think snuggly thoughts. I’ll be right back." Smiling, she trotted downstairs.

Kurt grabbed his jeans, hauling them on as he hopped toward the door on one foot.

Damn.It all made perfect sense. Susan had to be the blackmailer! She’d set Ellie up! He didn’t know whether to curse or cheer. But why was the question. In any event, he had to get a good look at this woman. He eased down the stairs until he had a clear view of the open door.

Kurt remembered Susan was Ellie’s friend from the club. Blonde, about the same height and weight as Ellie. From the looks of her uniform, she was a Navy corpsman. A petty officer. And damn pushy. Ellie barely got the door open before Susan shoved her way inside.

"It’s freezing outside. What took so long?"

"I was getting ready to take a bath." Ellie shoved the wig and clothes in Susan’s arms. "Here. Take this stuff away. I don’t want to see it again, especially the wig. Thanks for letting me borrow everything, but I won’t be needing it ever again." Her voice grew tight. "I don’t want to bother you with any more of my stupid, little problems."

Susan stared at the pile, then glanced up at Ellie. "I’m sorry I snapped at you today. I was upset about Jeremy."

"Obviously. I understand." Ellie grabbed the door and tried to ease Susan back through it. "I’m not mad, but you need to go. I’d just like to have some privacy, if you know what I mean."

Susan’s blue-eyed gaze traveled beyond Ellie up the stairs to Kurt. A smirk grew as her eyes narrowed slyly. "I understand perfectly. Enjoy your…bath." She patted Ellie on the cheek in a patronizing manner. "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t."

"Then that doesn’t leave much, does it?" Ellie shut and locked the door in her face. Shaking her head, she slowly ascended the stairs. "I think she might be jealous."

Ellie wasn’t guilty. That was the only clear thought that ran through Kurt’s head. Everything she’d said and done was real. She was real. This was the Ellie the world didn’t see. Sweet, funny, and damned sexy. And his newest suspect was driving away.

He knew he should follow her, but then what? The very notion he could seduce Susan into a trap like he’d tried with Ellie soured his stomach. He couldn’t approach this investigation the same way any more. And Ellie?

"Coming?" She reached the top stair. The robe fell from her naked body. She trailed it behind her as she continued on back into the bedroom.

How could anyone who was so buttoned up in public be so damned sexy in private?And what did he intend to do about it? Where was this going? A one-night stand?

Kurt shook his head. What he’d seen so far was a teaser. Now she was off the suspect list, he craved to know more. His head spun with the possibilities. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from his conscience. Once wasn’t going to be enough.

A new thought struck. Now he could reveal his true identity, but what then? Considering their previous office interactions, he was dead meat if he yanked off his beard and walked into her bedroom with a casual, "Hi Ellie, it’s really me."

He couldn’t play at being Kurt Orin forever, but if he could just find a way to smooth the waters beforehand, maybe she wouldn’t be so angry when she discovered the truth.

"Kurt?"

"In a sec. I’ve got to get something." He trotted downstairs to retrieve his previous purchase. Her huge black cat was crouched by a ceramic food bowl, eyeing a box of cat chow on the counter top. Kurt dumped a cupful into the dish. Nothing was going to interrupt them tonight.

He took the stairs two at a time and found her stretched out upon the down-turned bed like a goddess awaiting sacrifice.

"You’re so beautiful." He tossed the box of condoms to the floor beside the bed, kicked his jeans off, and crawled into her arms.

"You still want me," she said, her eyes alight with wonder.

If she referred to his still-aroused state, Kurt didn’t see any point in disputing the facts. He’d wanted her for three days and he was going to have her. He eased inside her warmth with a growl of pleasure.

"God, you’re tight," he said on a gasp of breath.

All Ellie did was nod, close her eyes, and wrap those beautiful legs around him.

Kurt’s control lasted long enough to bring her back to that fever pitch of excitement. Sighs turned to soft moans with each gentle thrust. He wedged his hand between them, using his thumb once more. He felt her tense, gasp, tense again, and grazed his teeth around her nipple. She arched against him, digging her heels hard into his buttocks. Control vanished. His body demanded satisfaction.

Then her body convulsed around his. White hot release rippled between them. It seemed to last forever. It didn’t last long enough. They lay together, boneless, and savored the release. One thing was certain—if he made love to her a million times, it would never be enough. He wasn’t willing to give her up.

But would she feel the same when she discovered who he really was?

Chapter 11

Ellie punched off the alarm and rolled back into Kurt’s arms. He tucked his fingers into her tangled hair as she nestled against his chest.

"What time is it?" His voice was a bare murmur.

"Five."

"Jeez, woman, are you crazy?" Nevertheless, he gave a long stretch.

She traced designs on his chest. "I often run in the morning."

"I repeat…are you crazy?" He dropped a kiss to the top of her head and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

She admired his backside as he walked to the bathroom.Perfect, absolutely perfect, right down to his toes. The only flaw was a small hickey on his right buttock. She grinned. It had been a pleasure administering that mark.

His front side was just as tempting, but there were two old scars, one on his left shoulder near the rotator cuff, and the other on the top of his left thigh. They looked like little round divots, but when she’d asked about them he only shook his head and continued nibbling the underside of her neck. Ah, well. She’d ask him again later.

"There’s an extra toothbrush in the left hand drawer. Still fresh in its box." She pointed in the direction of the bathroom sink.

Tossing off a yawn, he muttered his thanks and shut the bathroom door, cutting off her view. On cue, Hades leaped up on to her bed and demanded breakfast. Ellie let him fuss. The last thing she felt like doing this morning was jumping out of bed. Muscles she never knew she had ached, but it was a pleasant throbbing. She was more than a little sore from a night of unfettered, uninhibited, sheet-twisting sex. And right now, all she wanted to do was grab that gorgeous man and do it again. Kurt stepped out of the bathroom, an early-morning erection jutting out proudly before him.

Smiling, he crawled up to her from the bottom of the bed. "Sure you want to go running? I can think of something much more fun. Aerobic, too."

Ellie tossed back the covers. The chilly air made taut rosy beads of her nipples, something Kurt’s gaze zeroed in on with record speed. She raised one eyebrow. "Feed Hades while I brush my teeth and you’ve got a deal."

He snagged her waist as she passed, swung her against him, and slipped his mouth over her breast. Ellie

arched into the embrace. She was putty where Kurt was concerned.

"I’m going to be late for work," she said with a long sigh.

"I’ll be quick." He tossed her onto her back.

Ellie laughed and reached for him. "And leave me unfulfilled?"

That devilish grin spread. "Never."

Thirty minutes later, still weak-kneed, Ellie let a hot shower pulse life back into her while Kurt indulged Hades. This was too good to be true.He was too good to be true.

She scolded herself while she brushed her hair in front of the mirror. This was about enjoying life, not analyzing it. Her unease doubled when he set a steaming mug of coffee on the dresser for her.

"You want some breakfast to go with that?"

Ellie wanted to cry. If he kept this up, she’d be falling in love with the guy in no time. She took a sip of the rich brew. Who was she kidding? She was halfway there already.

"No thanks, I’ll grab something on the way out."

After he went back downstairs, she rubbed apricot body lotion along her legs and arms, mind racing. Maybe it was time to take a step back, especially if her heart was saying love was entering the picture. She couldn’t afford another mistake like Allan. They’d been living together for months before she realized they didn’t really know each other. Wasted time. They’d been two people with vastly different goals and dreams. Ellie refused to allow that to happen again.

She gulped down her coffee as she dressed in her camouflage uniform. Looked like he was about to get a dose of reality right now. Test number one—could he deal with her being a Marine? Number two—how did he feel about her love of books? Three—animals. Four—children. Where did he work? Did he have a family? Where did he go to school?

Ellie jerked herself to a halt. This wasn’t a job interview. She’d scare him off for sure. Maybe that was her intent. The heart was safer alone. And there was the operative word—alone. She didn’t want to be alone any more. She wanted to be a couple.

"Just stop it!" She twisted her hair into a bun, secured it savagely with a handful of hairpins, grabbed up her glasses and her mug, then walked downstairs.

Kurt stood propped against the counter, a copy of J.K. Rowling’sHarry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other, and Hades twined around his ankles. Ellie’s heart did somersaults.

"You enjoy kids’ books," she somehow managed to say.

He nodded. "They’re full of fun and adventure, and we all need a little excitement in our lives now and then, don’t we?" He flashed a lecherous look.

She flushed and remembered their early morning lovemaking.

He grinned. "All right, I’ll start over again. Well, good morning, Staff Sergeant. Don’t you look cute."

"Cute?" She jammed her fists onto her waist. "I’m a Marine. I’m a killing machine."

Kurt tossed back a laugh and snapped the book closed. "I’ll bet you are." He swung her into his arms. "But you know what?"

She cocked her head to one side. "What?"

"Sweetheart, the bun has to go."

Her heart plummeted. So, he was into looks. Well, if that’s what he was about, he could…

Kurt chucked her under the chin. "Now don’t start twisting my words, Ellie. I know you’re in a hurry in the morning. I know the hair is long and heavy. I know it’s a hassle. But you’re a beautiful woman…even for a killing machine. Let the world know it."

He yanked out a chair. Before she could protest, he had her in it and her hair undone.

"Whatare you doing?" She grabbed for the bobby pins. "I’m going to be late. I’m due in court. The judge will have my ass for sure."

"Just relax. I can whip up a French braid like nobody’s business. One of the pluses of having a younger sister."

In record time, he was done. Still, Ellie frowned at him until he steered her upstairs and parked her in front of the dresser mirror.

"See?"

She studied herself from all angles. The style narrowed her face, pulled in her cheekbones, made her feel sleek.

"You going to do this for me every morning?" she asked, half kidding.

"I could be persuaded." He dropped a kiss to her lips.

Ellie tasted peanut butter and pulled back. A tiny dab clung to the corner of his mouth. Frowning, she wiped it away with the point of her finger. Who else—

"I’ve got to get to work myself. See you tonight." Another quick kiss and he was gone.

She caught her reflection once more. The hair was great. Just one thing was missing.

***

Kurt yanked off the hairpiece and beard two blocks from Ellie’s apartment. He’d had one close call after the other this morning. And his eyes were killing him from having slept in the contacts. Thank goodness, the early morning darkness hid his slipping hair and the fact the beard was coming loose. He’d had just enough time to get to the bathroom, fix both, then dig out his contacts and clean those.

The peanut butter, however, was a major mistake. He should have grabbed a bite to eat later. But they’d never had dinner last night. In fact, he hadn’t eaten since the morning before. Hunger had gnawed a hole straight through to his spine. Hopefully, she wouldn’t connect the incident yesterday with Agent Duncan to the one this morning.

Kurt raked his fingers over his morning whiskers. Ellie wasn’t the only one who had to be in court this morning. Fortunately, he had a change of clothes at work, but his razor was at home, and he didn’t have time to get it. Maybe Vic had one at the office. If not, would it be enough to raise Ellie’s suspicions?

He never should have stayed the night, never meant to make love to her more than once. But being with her was addictive. The more he had her, the more he wanted. She was better than fine wine, better than a four star meal, better than Swiss chocolate. Crazy as it sounded, her very essence wrapped itself around him. For the first time in his life, making love was a true full body experience. And after each bout of glorious sex, gut-wrenching fear swooped in.

Kurt couldn’t continue to live a lie. Some day soon she’d have to learn who he was—a man she detested. He pictured her initial rage, the questions and accusations she’d throw his way. But the thing that tore at his heart was imagining the pain of betrayal in her beautiful smoky eyes.

He violently raked his fingers through his hair. How could things change so quickly in just a few days? True, he was physically attracted to her when he believed she was a suspect. But even as he investigated, her personality insinuated itself into his system. He grew to appreciate her laugh, her charm, her thousands of books, the warmth of her home, her feistiness, even her grumpy cat.

Why hadn’t he looked beyond the surface of Staff Sergeant Severance before and noticed these qualities? Because he scoffed at her looks? Had he been that superficial? That shallow? With each encounter since her arrival two months ago, the animosity had grown like an unchecked poisonous weed.

Kurt was ashamed of himself. Even without makeup and her hair in a bun, Ellie was a striking woman. Why hadn’t he noticed before? Because he didn’t want to, or because subconsciously he knew she represented an end to his carefree bachelor days?

He slammed on his brakes and nearly slid through a red light. Good God, he was in love with her! How crazy was that!

"No, no, no," he shouted. "It’s just sex!"

A honk and the sound of hooting laughter from the car stopped in the lane next to him drew his startled attention. Four pimply boys were laughing and nodding at him from a dented blue Honda Civic. The light changed to green. They revved their engine and offered him several suggestive hand gestures. In a moment, they were out of sight down a side street, but their mocking laughter barely pierced his panicked thoughts.

Only sex? Could what he was feeling be as simple as carnal lust for a desirable woman?

Kurt felt the net settle securely over his heart. It was love all right. Why else would panic seize him at the thought of losing her? Arriving at that thought seemed to calm him, create a small pool of stillness within his churning emotions. It was love. He was in love. Finally.

He shuddered and took a gasping breath. What to do next was the problem.

Somehow he had to change the combative relationship between Staff Sergeant Severance and Agent Duncan or there would never be any chance of love between them. No doubt she’d be in a full blown rage when she discovered the truth. He’d be lucky if Ellie didn’t cut off his family jewels and shove them down his throat. Hopefully, she wouldn’t stay mad for long. If he had to, he’d crawl through broken glass to keep her. His body relaxed as his heart and mind came into accord. Eleanor Severance was going to be his, and that was that. No more denial, no more shirking.

"Talk about being a fool."

Shaking his head, he inched through the base front gate with the rest of the heavy morning traffic. By the time he reached his office, Kurt barely had time to change much less shave. That didn’t stop Jess from cornering him.

"You look like something the cat dragged in." Jess propped himself just inside Kurt’s doorway, his trademark toothpick jutting from between clenched teeth. "Where the hell have you been? You know you’ve got to testify in—"

"I know." Kurt yanked off his pullover and slipped his arms into a pale blue long-sleeved shirt he kept hanging in his office locker. "I’m hurrying as fast as I can. I don’t suppose you’ve got a razor handy."

"Nope. Sorry. You pull an all-nighter?"

Not the kind Jess might be thinking of. Jeans off, navy blue twills on.

"Not exactly."

Jess grunted a response. "We got the okay to search Forton’s room yesterday afternoon. Someone had been there before us. Tore it completely apart."

Kurt shoved his shirttails in with one hand while he tossed a tie around his neck with the other. "Looking for the packet of ketamine Ellie found?"

"Could be. We also discovered paperwork that showed Forton rented a separate house out in town. Kind of suspicious for a bachelor Marine."

"Ten guesses how he managed to afford that."

"Yep. We checked, and it’s been ransacked, too. There wasn’t much to disturb anyway. We did find evidence of ketamine manufacture, but not the ketamine itself. The cooking equipment has been confiscated for evidence. But here’s the big surprise…he was being blackmailed just like Lee Parsons."

Kurt jerked his head up. "How do you know that?"

"A computer-generated blackmail letter was found in his BEQ room among some bills. It was similar to the one Parsons received. We’re running it for fingerprints right now, but it doesn’t look good. The blackmailer didn’t leave any on Parsons’ letter. She probably didn’t on Forton’s either."

"What did it say?" Kurt asked.

Jess rubbed the back of his neck. "It said, ‘You know what I have. Pay up or I send it to your command.’"

Kurt frowned. "Why would Forton’s command care if he was having sex with some bimbo or not? He wasn’t married, so it wasn’t a case of adultery. Doesn’t make any sense."

"I agree, but now he’s dead, so we’re a little late to be asking. The big question is whether he was killed by the blackmailer or by the ketamine ring."

"Or are they the same?"

"What about you? Find out anything?"

Kurt twisted a knot in his tie. "Ellie Severance isn’t our suspect. A petty officer named Susan is. I’ll see what I can find out about her today."

"And it took you all night to learn this?"

Kurt didn’t like the tone in Jess’ voice. It smacked of a lecture.

"No. I discovered it early yesterday evening. I had a date that got a little out of hand." He buffed a brush over his leather oxfords, snatched up his keys and the case file on this trial.

Jess blocked his exit. "She’s a sweet kid. Don’t hurt her."

Denial froze on his lips. What was the sense in lying? "I’m more concerned with how she’s going to hurt me when she discovers who I really am."

Kurt expected sage advice. All Jess did was grin around his toothpick and walk away.

A quick stop at Vic’s office yielded the much-needed cordless razor. As he strode toward his car, he ran it over his face and neck. Flecks of shorn stubble dotted his shirt no matter how much he tried to brush them away. Ellie was sure to comment on that. At least it wasn’t peanut butter.

He smiled. One day they would laugh about the peanut butter incident. Hopefully.

He was still trying to clear away the evidence of his quick shave as he walked into the Staff Judge Advocate’s building. The long hallway stretched before him. And there at the end Ellie stood laughing over a joke with her coworkers.

His heart caught in his throat. Even from this distance her smile glowed. Kurt drew closer. She’d put on

makeup after he left. Much more subtle than when she posed as the mysterious redhead, it enhanced her features delicately.

She caught sight of him and all humor faded. Excusing herself, she tried to duck into the courtroom. First Sergeant Yost zoomed out from the Military Justice Office, cutting her off.

"Been playing in your mama’s makeup there, Severance?"

Ellie’s face tightened. There was little she could do to defend herself against a senior ranking Marine without showing disrespect. Kurt didn’t have that problem.

"Back off, First Sergeant," he barked as he walked toward them. Heads turned his way. A few people backed up to give him room. Ellie tossed him a puzzled frown.

Yost held firm. "What’s got you singing a new tune this morning?"

Kurt shoved between Yost and Ellie. "She’s a lady and deserves a little respect."

"She’s a Marine and ought to learn how to take it. If she can’t, she can take her damn tea cups and dolls, and get the hell out of my Marine Corps." Yost pushed past them and marched down the hall. The front door banged shut with his exit.

The hall cleared, leaving Kurt alone with Ellie. He glanced down to find her studying him, distrust in her eyes. It killed him not to touch her. He had to settle for keeping a polite distance, arms clasped loosely in front of his body.

She tilted her head to one side. "That was rather unexpected, but thank you."

"Let’s just say I had a chance to consider things from your perspective."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Really? And what perspective might that be?"

Kurt shrugged a shoulder. "As much as the military would like to preach equality, there are still the diehard few like Yost. The more beautiful a woman is, the less she might be taken seriously. I can see why you’d downplay your looks. You’re a very attractive woman. You deserve the chance to show the world that. You look especially nice this morning. Don’t let people like Yost take that from you."

"And it’s taken you two months to come to this remarkable conclusion?"

He couldn’t blame her for the sarcasm. He deserved worse than that. "Let’s just say I never bothered to look beyond the surface until recently. There’s more to you than I realized."

She snorted. "You can’t judge a book by its cover, Agent Duncan. You might be surprised at what you’d find out about me if you’d bothered to try."

His hand shook from the effort not to touch her, to slip in around her waist and hold her tight. "There’s nothing that says we can’t start now. A clean slate. Would you begrudge a man a second chance?"

Ellie narrowed her eyes. "Now…why don’t I believe you? Oh, I know…all the snide comments the last two months."

"You’re just as guilty as I am."

"Court in five minutes," one of the attorneys reminded them as he zipped by.

***

Ellie pivoted on her heel and followed the captain into the courtroom. Duncan was right. She’d given as good as she got. And even if he started it, she could have stopped their wrangling at any time by not adding energy to the mini-confrontations. It wasn’t like her to hold a grudge when someone offered an

olive branch. She’d even be willing to forgive Bernadette if the woman met her halfway.

Duncan seemed sincere. At least his mesmerizing blue eyes reflected sincerity. Ellie believed you could see a lot in a person’s eyes. What harm would it do to let the past go? Whatever Duncan’s motives might be, it would be nice not to have that edgy feeling each time he came around. She had to admit, it would be easier to get along with the handsome agent rather than constantly argue.

When it came time for him to testify, Ellie actually listened to what he had to say rather than simply punching the words into the steno machine. Agent K. O. Duncan was articulate, not easily rattled, meticulous—all things she had ignored before. Those were all qualities she could utilize if there was a chance of finding Jeremy’s killer. Perhaps they could discuss the case over lunch, if she could convince Duncan to meet her. That was a common ground for them, and a good place to start on the road to forging a friendship of sorts. She owed it to him to pick up the proffered flag of truce.

To her surprise, Duncan still hovered around her office when court was adjourned for lunch. He greeted her with an unsure smile when she returned. She noticed his sensuous mouth and the small pale scar on his jaw line.

Ellie shook her head. What was she thinking? Having Kurt around was enough testosterone to handle at one time. She opened her mouth to extend her luncheon invitation, but caught sight of a huge bouquet of flowers sitting on her desk. The sheer beauty of the arrangement took her voice away. Three ivory Casablanca lilies nestled softly within a huge spray of pink, white, and plum colored cymbidium orchids. The effect was as fragrant as it was lovely.

Gasping softly, Ellie reached for the card.For last night…and tonight. XOXO Kurt. Heat rushed to her cheeks. Ellie knew she was as pink as the cymbidiums.

"An admirer?" Duncan loomed in her doorway.

Ellie cleared her throat and stuffed the card back in its envelope. "Something like that."

He laughed lightly. "Judging from your pink cheeks, I’d say it was an important someone."

Probably more important than she wanted to admit to anyone right now, especially to a person she considered the enemy hours before. "One can never tell how these things will turn out. The relationship is…"Hot. Very, very hot. If he walked in the door right now, I’d wrap myself around him. "…new."

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I was wondering if you’d like to grab a sandwich from next door."

She bit back a smile. "I was thinking along the same lines. Actually, Agent Duncan, I’d like to talk to you about something. In private."

Duncan nodded. "Sounds good. My treat. Just tell me what you want and I’ll be back in a few. We can eat and talk here."

Ellie opted for chicken salad, then admired Kurt’s flowers. An island of lilies in a sea of orchids. She traced one velvety petal and smiled. Such a sweet touch, so very thoughtful.

"Looks like someone put out over the weekend. Look at you all tricked out…even a new hairdo."

Ellie jumped at the sound of Susan’s voice. Susan plopped down in the only chair in the room. Her inviting herself in had never bothered Ellie before. But now everything about Susan annoyed her. Her pushiness, her vulgarity, her coarseness. Only Susan could turn a beautiful encounter into something sleazy. Any second now she’d be demanding details.

Susan reached for Kurt’s card.

Ellie snatched it from her grasp. "Some things are private." A blast from the phone interrupted Susan’s indignant response. Ellie smiled when she heard Kurt’s rich, smooth voice.

"I hate to bother you at work, but I wanted to know if you’d got the flowers."

She gave Susan her back as her smile grew. "I did, and I love them. You’re so sweet."

"I still owe you dinner. Tonight?"

"Tonight…and I’ll feed you. By the way, I’m going to a Christmas party on Saturday. I’d love for you to go with me."

"I wouldn’t miss it."

Susan rolled her gaze heavenward as Ellie hung up. "For pity sake, you sound like a hormonal teenager."

Ellie folded her hands before her as she sat behind her desk. "And you sound jealous."

A flip of Susan’s hand dismissed the notion. "Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I be jealous of someone like you?"

Two months of friendship disappeared. Ellie stared at the stranger Susan had become. "I can only surmise Jeremy’s death has affected your judgment. I think it would be best if you left."

The other woman’s frosty glare deepened. Without another word, Susan snatched up her military cover and bolted out of the room, nearly colliding with Duncan in the process.

He juggled the cardboard drink holder and shot a glare toward Susan’s back. "Friend?" he asked as he sat sandwiches and drinks on the edge of Ellie’s desk.

"Not anymore, I’m afraid. She crossed a line she shouldn’t have." Ellie lips tightened with anger. She refused to take it out on Duncan.

"You didn’t say what you wanted to drink so I got ice tea." He set the thirty-two ounce cup with a straw in front of her.

"Perfect." Ellie peeled the paper away from her sandwich with a lack of enthusiasm. The encounter with Susan had soured her stomach.

"Susan, right? Works at the hospital." He scooted closer and tore open a bag of potato chips. "Last name—"

"Bolotnik."

"Yeah, that’s right." He eased the door shut.

Ellie lifted her eyebrows. He had a lot of nerve. "Excuse me, Agent Duncan, but I’d feel more comfortable with the door open. I know the place is nearly deserted with everyone off to lunch and PT, but—"

He smiled, and again she noticed that full lower lip and sensual cast to his mouth.

"We need to talk and I don’t want to be overheard." He dove into his egg salad sandwich while he talked. "A search of Jeremy Forton’s quarters uncovered something strange. We found drug paraphernalia. It gives us every reason to believe he was illegally distributing ketamine."

Ellie rubbed a sudden ache between her eyes. Jeremy had already been busted down to private first class before she was stationed at Twentynine Palms. A search of court-martial records revealed he’d been absent without authority—UA. Now this.

Susan said if there was trouble, Jeremy would find it. Ellie probably should have trusted her initial instincts and not formed a friendship with him. But he was so likeable… and a friend of Susan’s. The two were so close at first they were almost one. They spent every moment of their spare time together. A thought occurred to Ellie. If Jeremy had been distributing ketamine, Susan could be as well.

"Do you suppose that’s what was in the packet I found?"Of course, it was.

"What do you know about Susan Bolotnik?"

She flicked her gaze up to him. So…they suspected Susan, too. Ellie sighed and shoved her food aside. "I met her when I arrived in Twentynine Palms. We formed a friendship. She was always visiting my place. She dates a lot of different men. I always thought she went through them fairly quickly, but then that’s just me. Other than Jeremy, I never met any of them. They dated for a while, then Susan seemed to lose interest in him. As a lover, I mean. They remained friends. I never had a clue either of them were involved in any illegal activity."

"She ever wear a red wig?"

His pale gaze drilled into hers. Panic welled up to Ellie’s throat. All she could do was nod, eyes wide.

Duncan leaned back. "We suspect she’s involved in more than ketamine. A local woman has been sleeping with married Marines, then blackmailing them. We’ve pretty much narrowed our suspect down to her."

And Susan knew it!That’s why she’d insisted on Ellie wearing the red wig. Ellie felt sick. A stab in the back would have hurt just the same. She closed her eyes a moment and took several deep breaths in through her nose then out through her mouth.

"I…I think she might suspect you’re on to her." It shamed her to tell this man how she’d been duped. To his credit, Duncan kept any judgments to himself.

"What makes you think so? Have any suspicious people approached you or tried follow you?"

She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Two men tried to force me to join them at the bar that night I wore the wig. Then on Saturday a strange man came to my door, but he claimed to be looking for my landlady. We also had a peeper Saturday night. My…guest ran after him, but never caught him."

"Just be careful. You’ve drawn the attention of some very nasty people. And I’d stay away from Susan."

"You don’t have to worry about that, believe me. You can also trust my discretion."

"If I didn’t think I could, I wouldn’t have confided in you." He grabbed his ice tea and tilted the chair onto its back legs. "You need to eat something. You haven’t eaten since yesterday."

"How would you know?" Puzzlement furrowed her brow.

"I…uhm…What I meant to say was that you’re so thin, you look like you don’t eat often enough."

"Are you back to insulting me again? And I would hardly be called thin by anyone’s standards."

"No…honestly. Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything." He righted the chair. "Actually, I have a favor to ask you."

Ellie tucked her arms over her chest. Here it was, the real reason for this sudden truce. "Spit it out."

"I need to purchase a Christmas gift for a very special lady. I don’t want to screw this up. I was hoping you’d help me."

"And you don’t have any female friends to help you?"

"None that will mind their own business."

Ellie relaxed. It seemed innocent enough. And maybe in turn he could help her. She’d love to get Kurt something for Christmas. "All right. How special? Marriage material?"

He gave her a smile that lit up his eyes, giving warmth to the pale blue in a way she’d never seen before. "Oh, yeah. But not an engagement ring. I think a woman should be able to pick out her own diamond. After all, it’s going on her finger forever."

"Well, what do you know, you’re not a Neanderthal after all." She took a healthy bite of her sandwich. "Let me wolf this down and we’ll head over to the Exchange. I’m sure we’ll find something at the jewelry counter. And I could use your help, too."

"For flower man?" He pointed to the bouquet.

"Yes."

"Marriage material?"

Did she dare confide what had crept into her heart? "Very possibly."

"Then I hope I won’t disappoint you."

Fifteen minutes later they hovered over the jewelry display case. Ellie’s choice for Duncan’s lady was easy—an omega necklace with a lovely platinum and gold slide. He didn’t blink at the price, just whipped out his credit card.

Choosing for Kurt wasn’t as effortless and Duncan wasn’t much help. Clothes were out since she didn’t know his size. Books were out because she didn’t know what he liked to read, and heaven knew he had his pick of material at her house. Music, also out. She didn’t have a clue what he preferred.

She was about to give up when they passed the jeweler once more. A 14k gold money clip with matching key ring caught her eye. Both were engraved with an eagle in flight.

"There! That’s it! It’s elegant, masculine, perfect."Just like Kurt.

Duncan offered no opinion. In fact, he was strangely quiet. He slipped her his business card and departed shortly after she’d made her selection, claiming he had to attend a meeting with a DEA agent.

As she hurried back to her office, their earlier discussion weighed her down, too. Susan, Jeremy—both not who they’d seemed. Jeremy was a fool to be involved with drugs. Susan a manipulative opportunist at best. At worst…? It hurt.

Try as she might, the more she thought about it, the more depressed she became. She transcribed her stack of courts-martial cases automatically, paying little attention to what she heard. By the end of the day, not even the promise of Kurt’s company could cheer her up.

Ellie changed out of her uniform into a soft chenille sweater and leggings then stopped long enough at the grocery store near her condo to pick up steaks, potatoes, and salad for dinner. A bottle of Fetzer cabernet topped off her purchase. Kurt deserved a good evening. Cooking for him might even cheer her up. She stood in the checkout line, daydreaming about making love to him. Maybe she’d even entice him into the shower. The idea made her smile.

"Thinking of me?" a voice whispered against her ear.

Ellie whirled around and came face to face with the object of her fantasies. Kurt dropped a quick kiss to her mouth, then held up his own purchase—the same brand of cabernet.

"I guess what they say about great minds is true. So, what’s for dinner?" He peered into her cart. "What? No dessert?" His smile deepened, a white flash framed by his soft beard. "I bet I know what you’ve got planned. Want me to snag a can of whipped cream?"

Ellie laughed. His teasing, his smile, his very presence, dispelled her gloom. He even paid for everything. By the time they parted for their separate vehicles, she felt like she was walking on air. She pulled out her keys and started to sing to herself.

"Ellie, watch out," Kurt shouted.

She spun around and saw a Dodge Ram pickup barreling toward her. All she could do was jump. She landed full force against the trunk of a beat-up blue Nova, bounced, then slammed to the pavement. The bottle of wine exploded beneath her. Tires squealed as the truck tore out of the parking lot.

Kurt skidded to a stop beside her. "Good God, honey, are you all right?"

She couldn’t catch a good breath to answer.

He scooped her into his arms. "Ellie? Answer me!"

Somehow she managed to nod, her voice followed. "Yes, yes."

Footsteps beat a path their way. "Did anyone get the license plate?" The store manager stared at her, eyes wide with horror. "That crazy fool. Did anyone see who it was?"

Other shoppers gathered closer. A crowd had formed.

"We’ve got it covered," Kurt said. "We’ve got it covered." Arms shaking, he pulled her close.

"Someone call the police," the manager shouted.

Ellie twisted Kurt’s shirt beneath her fingers. "Kurt, I think I know what this is about. There’s someone you have to call—Agent Duncan with NCIS. His card’s in my purse. Tell him what just happened. He’ll know what’s going on."

Chapter 12

How the hell was he supposed to call himself? Kurt struggled for a solution while he watched Ellie adjust her glasses then search through her purse for the business card he’d given her earlier. He had to do something. If she called the number, the cell phone at his waist would blast out a betraying ring. There was no way he could even turn the ringer off without rousing some suspicion.

"Here it is." Hands shaking, she gave him the card.

Kurt slipped it from her fingers. Her palms were scraped, bleeding. It was a wonder her glasses had managed to stay on. Pieces of gravel and trash from the parking lot were embedded in the weave of her oversized black sweater. One shoulder and the back were filthy from her roll over the Nova. The chenille hadn’t withstood the force of her fall—the seams had split. Her black leggings held up a little better. At least they were in one piece. But Kurt bet she had a score of bruises to show for it. A small price to pay, considering she could be dead right now.

"I think I need to sit for a moment." Ellie wrenched open her little car’s door, tossed the remains of their dinner purchases inside, then flopped down. A second later, she hugged the steering wheel and rested her head against it.

Kurt looped his hand over her neck, bent forward, and kissed her temple. "Just rest. I don’t think we’re going to be able to avoid the cops. A patrol car just pulled in."

Ellie glanced over her shoulder, then resumed her slumped position. "I suppose they’re just doing their job."

He squatted down. "You said you thought you knew what this was about. If you tell them—"

"No." She pulled her head up. "I can’t explain it to you here. Just call that number and have them meet us at my place." When he still didn’t move, she curled her hand over his arm. "Please, Kurt."

The manager pointed the police car their way. Kurt watched, amazed, as Ellie pulled reserves from somewhere deep inside. She unfolded herself from the Volkswagen and walked slowly to the waiting officer. No one would guess that only seconds before she’d been shaking like a leaf. His throat was choked with pride and admiration. And he was lucky enough to be dating this woman—for now.

He stared at the business card. His two identities were fast intersecting, soon to collide.Then what?

Taking advantage of her distraction with the officer, Kurt walked around to the other side of her car and phoned Jess.

"Get the license plate?" Jess asked.

The true depth of his involvement hit Kurt square in the chest. Ellie was his focus, not the crime.Not good, not good at all . "No, I…"

Jess made a sound that could have been a choked laugh or a snort of disgust. "I’ll grab Vic, and we’ll meet you at her place." Jess ended the call with no further comment.

Kurt had no excuse and he’d be damned if he’d dredge one up. He’d just have to be more careful from now on. He’d dropped his guard, and Ellie had almost paid the price for his carelessness. As it was, his inattention had lost them the license plate number and description of the driver. He snarled inwardly and vowed vigilance. Her life might depend upon him.

Kurt clipped his phone onto his belt and joined Ellie. She hugged herself against the chill of the darkening sky while the officer took her statement. When Kurt wrapped his arm around her, she pulled it around and tucked herself closer. Together, they stood and let the night wind swirl past. If only their fears could be so easily dispersed.

The stolid officer appraised Kurt from beneath bushy eyebrows. "Boyfriend?"

"Yes," they answered together.

"See anything?"

"Yeah. Some bastard in a truck trying to run her down."

"Hmmm… Miss Severance indicated there were two."

Kurt blinked, then bristled at the cop’s condescending tone. It added to his guilt. "It happened so fast. I was just trying to get to her."

Ellie squeezed his arm, silently begging him to stay calm. "There were two," she repeated. "I got a better look. Kurt was crossing the lot to his own car and couldn’t have seen from his angle."

"And, no, I didn’t get the damned license number," he growled, flushed with irritation and embarrassment.

The officer flipped his book closed and tucked it into a leather pouch on his belt. "Sounds like someone just got a little crazy. Happens all the time in parking lots. People get in a hurry. Kids race their cars through here."

Ellie forced a smile. "I thought as much, too."

The officer glanced toward the manager who hovered nearby and raised his voice. "About the only cure would be to install a few speed bumps." After being assured Ellie was physically fine and in no need of an ambulance, he bid them good night and left with his partner.

The manager faced them once more. "I’m really sorry about this. I’d at least like to replace your wine."

"It’s not necessary," Ellie said. "This is hardly your fault. And I’d just like to get home."

Another apology, another offer followed. Again Ellie refused. Finally, he acquiesced and returned to the store.

Ellie sagged against Kurt. "Did you make the call?"

"Yes, Agent Alderman said they should be there by the time we get you home."

She nodded and tried to slip free. Kurt held her in place. "I’d prefer to drive you home. Leave your car here in the lot. We’ll pick it up later."

***

Frankly, she’d prefer it, too. She might put on a good face to the world, but her insides still quivered. And there was no telling where those men were now.

"Let me get the steaks—"

"I’ll do it."

A chill curled around her bones in the absence of Kurt’s warmth. Loneliness so all-pervasive she wanted to cry started to seep in. It was all Ellie could do to keep from clinging to him like a limpet when he returned seconds later. She chalked it up to the stress of the moment, yet still let him tuck her under his arm as they walked to his car.

How in the world could she begin to explain everything to him? It all seemed like a half crazy coincidence to her, so how would he understand? Would he believe she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Would he believe Susan had tried to use her as bait? If the situations

were reversed, would she believe him? For God’s sake, they had only known each other for four short days. Could she ask him to just trust her?

Ellie let the powerful Impala’s leather seat cradle her aching bones and thought about what she was going to tell Jess and his agents. She’d listened to thousands of hours of court testimony. A good attorney could rip apart her feeble explanations in less time than it took to utter them. She’d always applauded the tenacity of a good investigator. Now here she was on the opposite side. Ideas she previously dismissed as too far-fetched had returned to roost on her door step. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be the one on trial.

"Care to tell me what’s going on?" Kurt asked as he accelerated into traffic. "Or are you going to send me away when this Duncan person arrives with his gang of agents?"

She rubbed at the ache in her head, then told him the whole story. Kurt listened without interruption, gaze riveted to the road before him, fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Ellie didn’t know whether that was in her favor or not.

They reached her place before the agents. Still silent, Kurt guided Ellie to the front door with a gentle press of his hand to the middle of her back. Once inside, he tossed the steaks in the refrigerator.

"I’ll cook those later. Did you want to get cleaned up before they get here?"

Ellie glanced down at her clothes—ruined. And she was filthy as well.

"Trust me," he assured her. "They can wait the fifteen minutes it takes you to wash and change. You know you’ll feel better for it."

She had to agree. Dirty as she was, Ellie couldn’t bear to sit on one of the kitchen chairs. It was bad enough she’d gotten Kurt’s beautiful car dirty.

She trudged upstairs, stripping off her sweater as she went. Hades greeted her on his masterly descent to the kitchen. A feline sneeze announced his opinion of her appearance. Tail flicking, he meandered on. A healthy meow ordered Kurt to feed him. Ellie heard a chuckle, then her lover’s low tones as he dumped food in the bowl. The doorbell announced NCIS’ arrival.

Ellie hurried. A change of clothes would have to do. The ruined sweater went into the garbage. The dirty pants into the clothes hamper. She slipped on fresh leggings and a red sweater, then trotted back down. Jess Alderman and Vic Brownell sat with Kurt at the wooden kitchen table. They looked up as she came into view.

She stopped short of the door. "Where’s Agent Duncan?"

Jess stood and pulled out the last chair for her. "He was detained and asked us to come on ahead. We’ve been talking with your friend here. We’d like to hear from you what you think happened."

Ellie ignored the proffered chair and busied herself at the counter making coffee. "I’m sure I recognized the men in the truck. I think they’re both Marines. One’s name is McConnell. He tried to put the moves on me the first time I went to the Lost Oasis. The other’s name is Clark." She tried to describe the two men as best she could from her brief encounter with them at the club.

Vic scribbled down a few notes. "You mean you met them when you were wearing the costume Susan Bolotnik gave you?"

At least Duncan had filled them in on their discussion from this afternoon. It saved having to repeat it all over again. "Yes. I’m wondering if they were some of the men she’s been accused of blackmailing. They might’ve followed me home, discovered my true identity and—"

"We’ve also linked them to Jeremy Forton," Jess interrupted. "Their fingerprints are all over his room and the house he rented. Of course they have an excuse for being at both places. They’re in the same tank company as Forton and assigned to the same barracks floor." He locked his gaze onto Ellie. "They could’ve observed you finding Forton and picking up the packet. Now they want it back."

"Then why try to run her down?" Kurt’s chair scraped the floor as he stood. "If they wanted the drugs, why not just ransack her apartment like Forton’s BEQ and his little hideaway house out in town?"

Vic stopped writing. By slow degrees, he glanced up. Kurt turned away and retrieved coffee mugs from the mug tree on the counter.

Ellie’s heart smiled. You had to love a guy willing to butt into an investigation for his woman. She doubted Vic and Jess took too kindly to his interference, though.

"I doubted they could successfully break in here without arousing at lot of suspicion," she said, as he filled the mugs. "Kurt installed some killer dead bolts on my doors and I have the nosiest landlady in the world. Unless," she faced them, "they were the ones who took the packet before the dead bolts were installed."

Vic returned to his notes. Jess stared into his coffee.

Kurt grabbed a spoon and stirred his mug furiously. "This is all based on the supposition McConnell and Clark are after you because of your association with Forton or you wearing the red wig. It can’t be the wig because you weren’t wearing it when they almost ran you down in the parking lot. They know you’re not Susan Bolotnik.

"So let’s follow the drug angle. If they had this mysterious packet, there’d be no need to come after you. You said you saw no one that morning you found your friend. If they don’t have the packet, how could they connect you with the ketamine if they weren’t there to see you find it?"

"Unless they’re afraid Forton told her something." Vic tapped his pen against his chin, and stared off into space.

Kurt banged his spoon against the rim of his mug so hard, Ellie was afraid it would break. "Well, for whatever reason they went after her, we can’t sit back and give them a chance at her again. Lock them up."

"And they’ll be out by morning without the proper evidence. You know…" Jess sucked up a drink, wincing when the hot liquid hit his mouth.

"There has to be a better way," Vic interjected. "What about this person who followed you back from the grocery store? Did you get a good look at him?"

Ellie stared blankly at him, then turned and frowned at Kurt. They were followed? Why the hell didn’t he say something?

He avoided her gaze. "A white Grand Am. Single driver. Stayed back far enough I couldn’t get the plate number. Once we turned into hercul-de-sac , he drove on."

"It might’ve been nice if you’d said something to me," she said, irritated. "I might have recognized him."

"You’d been through enough."

"I’m not porcelain, Kurt. Just tell me the truth from now on. Don’t try to coddle me. You’re acting like a junior G-man or something."

Vic snorted with laughter, then buried his nose back in his mug. Jess sat without comment.

Kurt still refused to meet her gaze. Ellie braced herself against the counter. "All right, gentlemen. What will it take? I can’t live like this."

The silence lasted a full minute. Finally, Vic took a deep breath and faced her full on.

"We know McConnell and Clark frequent the Lost Oasis. We know they want you gone or threatened into silence about something. And while we can’t say for certain that something is either the blackmail issue or the ketamine, we do know they’ve connected you with one of their activities. Something you know is important enough for them to run you down. What that something is, I don’t know. Ellie, how would you feel about wearing a wire and confronting them?"

Kurt smacked the mug onto the counter. "Forget it! Absolutely not!" One step took him to the table. "I will not have her life endangered."

"She wouldn’t be in danger,Kurt ," Jess said as he nursed his coffee. "We’ll be in a surveillance van nearby. We could even have a man inside the club watching her."

Vic snickered. "Maybe we can even have Agent Duncan dress up as a woman again. He did so well the last time."

Ellie laughed. "Nowthat I’d like to see. He does have the nicest lips, you know…"

Kurt whirled around on her. "I said no."

Ellie pressed her hands against his chest. His heart thudded beneath her fingers. It was touching to see he was scared to death for her. "I know how worried you are, but you’ve got to let them handle this. They’re professionals. They know what they’re doing. And I’m a Marine, Kurt. I’m perfectly capable of—"

"Bullshit!" He stomped toward the front door, then whipped it open. He whirled around, face set and angry, dark eyes narrow. "Obviously, you’re going to do what you want. But don’t expect me to sit here and listen, approve, or have anything to do with this…this…this nonsense. I’ll be back when your company leaves." He slammed the door as he exited.

Ellie shook her head. What did he expect her to do, sit around and wait for McConnell and Clark to come get her? She couldn’t live like that.

Trying her best to hide her disappointment, she slid back into the chair. "All right, what do I have to do?"

***

Kurt cursed every stop sign between Ellie’s place and his house. The sooner he could get back to her, the sooner he could stop this madness. If it weren’t for the need to change into different clothes, he’d have simply ripped off the beard and hairpiece, popped out the contacts, and charged right back inside. He loathed this disguise and he was beginning to detest Kurt Orin. Or maybe he was just starting to hate himself for continuing to deceive Ellie.

The day was turning into a stress-job of epic proportions. His after-lunch meeting with Vic and the DEA agent had yielded nothing except odd looks from Vic as he compared Kurt to his cousin, Tripp. If Vic suspected they were related, he kept it to himself. It was to his benefit anyway to have two Duncans on the case. Tripp was just as inquisitive and dedicated as Kurt. He had to be to survive undercover with DEA. In fact, this plan to use Ellie as bait sounded like something Tripp would cook up.

Where was Vic’s head?He of all people should know better than to use an untrained person for undercover work. Was he that desperate to nail these guys that he’d risk Ellie’s life?

Kurt charged into his house, ripping off his disguise as he went. Within minutes he was ready to leave, his disguise tucked into a bag under his arm to change into later. Hopefully, Vic and Jess were still at Ellie’s. He parked one block over so she wouldn’t see his car, then ran the remaining distance.

As he rounded the corner of the street, Kurt saw a white Grand Am parked at the curb two houses down. The silhouette of a man watched Ellie’s place. Crouching low, Kurt eased up behind the vehicle to discover Lee Parsons at the wheel.

A tap on the back driver’s side window jerked the man around. Parsons’ glower deepened when he saw Kurt. He shoved open the door. "What do you think you’re doing, Duncan?"

"I might ask you the same thing, Parsons. Mind telling me why you’ve been following me?"

"I haven’t been."

"And yet here you are."

Parsons jerked his thumb toward the condo. "Her. I’m watching her. I didn’t want her to skip town. I see your guys are in there now. You’re taking her in, and I want to watch the look on her face when she gets dragged off to jail." His dark eyes glittered with satisfaction.

"She’s not the woman." Kurt knew it was like trying to reason with the wall.

"The hell she isn’t. I saw her! Ain’t no other woman been in or out of that place but her."

"Then you obviously haven’t been here all the time. I’m telling you, she’s not the right woman. Why don’t you just go home, try to salvage what’s left of your marriage, and leave this to us?"

When Kurt tried to leave, Parsons grabbed his arm.

"You get your ass in there and lock her up now," he snarled. The stench of alcohol billowed outwards. "Or aren’t you finished screwing her?"

Kurt jerked free and somehow managed to suppress the urge to plow his fist into Parsons’ nose. "Go home, Lieutenant, and I’ll forget your interference in this investigation. Stay, and I’ll see you’re the one behind bars."

"I can’t say I blame you," Parsons taunted as Kurt walked away. "She a fine little piece of ass. I’d do her again."

Kurt kept walking. When he heard the car start up behind him, he dialed the police and reported Parsons as a drunk driver. With luck, the idiot would get hauled off to the drunk tank and be out of their hair for awhile. Now for his other problem.

Somehow, he managed to wait patiently for Ellie to answer the door, then endured Vic’s amused smirk when he came to the door instead.

"Well…Agent Duncan. So nice of you to join us."

"Cut the crap," he muttered under his breath and shoved his way inside.

"We were just finalizing our plans." The irrepressible Vic motioned him to the kitchen with a grand sweep of his arm.

Jess greeted Kurt with a lift of his eyebrows. Ellie gave him with a nod, so different from the smile and affection she gave to his alter ego. Kurt actually found himself getting jealous. He yanked out a chair and sat.

"So, what happened?" He listened to a terse rundown of what he already knew. Then it came. The set-up. Again, he let Jess and Vic propose their solution.

"I don’t like it."

Vic snorted. "What a surprise."

Kurt’s glare kept him from saying anything more. "It’s too dangerous. She’s not trained for these situations."

"But she’s our only link." Jess’ tone tolled defeat for Kurt. He’d made up his mind and nothing would change that. "Vic and I will set up surveillance across the street in the van. You can wear one of your infamous disguises and stake out a good vantage point before she arrives."

His glare had no effect on Jess. The older man simply ignored him. "She needs to be rehearsed."

"All planned." Vic plopped down beside him. "We’ll clear her absence with the Staff Judge Advocate tomorrow and practice here."

"After my eye appointment." She flashed them all a strained smile. "I’m treating myself to contact lenses."

That idea didn’t set well with Kurt either. Everyone would see how beautiful she truly was.

He smacked his palm on the table. "Obviously, you’ve all made up your minds. Fine. I’ll make sure I’m in place before she gets to the bar tomorrow night."

She leaned forward and smiled. "Any particular disguise I should look for? Hot pants? Evening gown?"

"I’ll surprise you. Just know I’ll be there and won’t let anything happen to you."

"Fair enough." She gave a nod and leaned back. "Although the prospect of seeing you dressed as a woman has a great deal of appeal." Bright laughter danced in her eyes.

"Yeah? Well, I only do that in the direst of circumstances." He made a pathetic attempt at a smile. "It means I have to shave my legs. So far, we aren’t at that point, and hopefully, we won’t get there. Now gentlemen, I’m sure Staff Sergeant Severance has had enough company for one night and would probably like a little privacy." He pushed away from the table and the others followed suit.

"I doubt you’ll be bothered any more tonight. Just keep your doors locked," he said as she saw them out.

"I won’t be alone for long. Once Kurt knows you’ve left, I’m sure he’ll be back."

"No doubt," Vic said.

Kurt shoved him out the door.

***

Ellie leaned against the door long after she’d locked it. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little scared. But she couldn’t sit back and do nothing. The hard part was going to be convincing Kurt.

A deep sigh carried her to the phone. She didn’t know if she had the energy to argue with him tonight. Maybe it was best to have him stay away until this was over. She pulled his number from under the refrigerator magnet. Before she could call, he was at her front door, knocking sharply and calling her name.

Ellie shook her head and opened it. She’d never seen a more woeful expression, at least not on a human. "You look like someone forgot to fill your food bowl."

He braced his arm on the frame. "As I recall, neither of us has eaten. I’ll be glad to cook."

"On one condition." She held up a finger. "This surveillance plan is not open for discussion. One word and out you go."

He bit his lip and knuckled the bridge of his nose, as if in pain. "Fair enough. You cook and I’ll do the dishes."

"Sounds like a deal to me." She swung the door wide.

Kurt stepped inside, wrapped one arm around her waist, and kicked the door closed. With one motion, he scooped her into his arms and strode into the kitchen. When she gasped, his lips covered hers, devouring them with a desperation born of fear. A muffled cry left her throat. She tossed her arms around his neck, nestled her fingers into his hair, and dragged his head to her neck. He nipped at the curve while his hands worked their way under her sweater.

Ellie felt a surge of heat as he cupped her breasts. She dropped her hands to his trousers, frantic to feel his warmth against her. A low, deep groan rumbled from him. Hands girdling her waist, he lifted her, yanked her leggings off, and laid her over the table.

She reached for him with her arms and legs, trying to pull him in. Kurt resisted long enough to shield himself, then thrust his body into hers.

Ellie arched against the table, a cry frozen in her throat. He dug his fingers into the flesh of her buttocks

while he drove in one hard plunge after the other. And just when she thought she could bear no more, he arched against her and she exploded into a thousand pieces.

A climax shuddered through him, and he relaxed over her using his elbows as braces. Sweet after-love kisses followed. He combed her hair away from her face.

"I don’t like this, Ellie. Not one single bit."

When she opened her mouth to protest, he shushed her with a finger to her lips. "I won’t try to talk you out of it. I’m just letting you know I don’t like it. Okay?"

She nodded. "Promise you won’t interfere?"

"I’ll let them do their job. Although I’m pretty sure no one could protect you as well as I could." His low, smooth voice shook with emotion.

His smile was contagious. Ellie traced her fingertip down his beard.

He tensed.

On impulse, she laughed and gave it a good scratch. To her horror, it peeled away under the pressure. She gasped. "What the hell?"

Kurt watched puzzlement turn to shock as Ellie yanked the false beard away. Seconds later the mustache was history, too. From the look on her face, if he didn’t move soon, he was due to lose another valuable piece of equipment.

"You! It’syou , you son of a bitch!" She reared her legs back and jammed her heels in his hips. "Get off me!"

"Ellie, honey, please—"

"Now! Before I cut off your balls and shove them down your throat!" She pulled back a fist.

Kurt caught her wrists in one hand and held them over her head. "Baby, let me explain—"

"Get off of me! Get out of my house! I swear I’ll scream—"

"Rape?"

Eyes shooting flames, she clamped her lips shut. Her chest heaved against him. Angry and beautiful. She wiggled in an attempt to free herself. Still sheathed within her, his body leapt to life once more.

Tears sprang to her eyes. "Don’t do this to me. Not now. Please."

"I would never force you, Ellie. Never. Please don’t cry." He flicked away the tears that drifted into her hairline. "Just give me a chance to explain."

"Did you have a good laugh at the expense of ugly old Ellie Severance? Did you go back to the shop and tell Vic and that stupid First Sergeant Yost how easy it was to screw me? And what about now? Does it amuse you to…?"

Realization of her duplicity widened her eyes. It hurt almost as much as the rage a few minutes earlier. Kurt eased off, let her go and turned his back to her while they both adjusted their clothing. When he turned back around, she had left the room.

He yanked off the hairpiece, snagged the bottle of wine and followed her into the living room. There wasn’t much he could do about the contacts for now. Somehow he had to reason with her. She had to understand just how much she’d come to mean to him in so short a time. She had to forget the jibes and snide remarks of these last two months and remember…

Kurt stopped himself short.Remember what? The great sex? She’d never be willing to build a relationship based on that. How he’d protected her earlier? He hadn’t. She knew now how pivotal she was to his investigation, that they’d met under false pretenses, that this all started as a big ruse. And the next question she would ask was going to be…

"When did you know who I was? Obviously you thought I was Susan on Thursday night. So when?"

"Yesterday at the NCIS office when you walked in and I realized that the packet—"

"Youtook the packet?" She made a sound of disgust and wrapped her arms around her waist. "Illegal search and seizure."

"That’s been made abundantly clear to me."

"Why didn’t you tell me then?" she demanded to know. "Why didn’t you tell me before we had sex? You lied!"

He set the bottle on the end table and took a step forward, arms outstretched. "I wanted to be with you. After the initial shock of recognition was over, I realized I liked what I saw, what I knew, about you."

"You know nothing about me!" Her anguished scream sent the cat zooming for cover. Arms rigid at her sides, she curled her hands into fists and stomped toward him. "If you did, you never would’ve lied to me. You only liked me when I was pretending to be someone else! The fake, the put-on. My God, you even kept it up after you knew who I really was! You even put a French braid in my hair this morning. You don’t wantme . You don’t likeme . You like the imageyou want to create."

"Ellie, honey—"

She took a step back. "I don’t fault you for doing your investigation. I fault you for what you did afterward, Kurt…Agent Duncan… Whatever the hell your name is."

"Kurt Orin Duncan," he managed to choke out.

"And what about that little charade you played tonight. Kurt out. Duncan in. Duncan out. Kurt in. Vic and Jess are probably laughing their asses off right now."

"If they are, it’s at me, not at you." Fear clutched at his heart.

"Take out those damn brown contacts so I can see the real you."

He did as she asked then tried pleading with her once more. "Sweetheart, I was going crazy trying to… Ellie, I love you."

"Ha! If you loved me, you never would have lied. You’d have accepted me for what I was, not try to create some ideal, some person you thought I should be. As if you should talk. You with your stupid fake beard and hairpiece, and those stupid brown contact lenses." She gave an angry sob. "You even spoke like some smooth-talking lounge lizard so I wouldn’t recognize your voice. I can’t believe I fell for it."

Now he was getting mad. "How could anyone get to know the real Eleanor Severance with the all the barbed wire you’ve got entrenched around you? You’re a beautiful woman hiding behind an ugly façade. God only knows why. You’re the one who finally chose to let your barriers down. And how? In disguise. So now who’s playing false?"

She hiked her chin up a notch. "At least I didn’t keep it up once I realized things were getting serious between us."

Ah-ha! Victory!"Then you admit you have feelings for me, too."

A dark red flush covered Ellie’s cheeks, her mouth fell open of its own accord, only to clamp shut the second she realized her mistake.

"I may have had feelings for Kurt Orin, but not any longer. Get out." She crawled over the couch and stomped toward the door.

Kurt snagged her as she stalked past. "Kiss me and tell me there’s nothing. Tell me what just happened in the kitchen meant nothing."

She shrugged free and threw open the door. A blast of cold air rushed into the room. "Out!"

"This isn’t over, Ellie."

"Now." Her face was set, eyes gunmetal gray. "Take your props and leave."

Reluctantly, he walked out. The door slammed shut behind him. He’d give her a chance to cool down, but he’d be damned if he was going to let her out of his life.

***

Ellie sank to the floor in a sobbing heap, her heart shattered in a million pieces. How could she have been so stupid? And of all the people in the world, why Kurt Duncan? He must have had a good laugh at her expense. She pictured him chuckling over his easy conquest, her bright-eyed response every time he came near. Then his subterfuge at lunch that day, dragging out personal information, even Christmas shopping, knowing…

"No, no, no." She pressed her hands to her ears, but the hurt and the memories wouldn’t die. And as much as she wanted to blame him, Ellie knew the fault was hers.

She should have been content with her life and her books. It was safe. The paper world couldn’t hurt her. She was in control. But her raging hormones, her ticking clock, and that blasted birthday made her step outside her safety zone. That and Susan’s pushing.

Another memory to stab her in the back. She had been a prime target for Susan to exploit, too—desperate and lonely. All the books in the world couldn’t chase that last feeling away. And for a few, short days, she had known happiness. She had been part of a couple. Now it was all a lie. She supposed she deserved nothing less.

What did her mother always say?"You reap what you sow."

Ellie tried to squelch the sound of that nagging voice. Her mother’s lectures were the last thing she needed to focus upon.

"Honey, please don’t cry." Kurt’s voice drifted through the door. She couldn’t believe he still hadn’t left; even worse, he heard her cry.

She was almost too tired to care any more. "Just go away."

"I can’t, not knowing how upset you are. I won’t until you forgive me."

"Then you’ll be out there until hell freezes over."

"I’ve been sitting out here on this cold stoop for twenty minutes, and I’ll tell you, I think it already has."

"Trust me, Kurt. As far as you’re concerned, it’s colder in here. Now go away before I call the police." A futile threat. NCIS had connections with the local authorities. As soon as they realized who Kurt was, they’d be on their way back to the station house. It would just be a waste of their time.

"What kind of man, what kind of hero leaves a lady in distress?"

If he hoped to reason with her, Kurt just used the worst possible tactic. Dashing away the last of her tears, Ellie jumped to her feet and flung open the door. "I’m not a princess who needs rescuing from a fairy tale castle."

Kurt stretched to his feet, never once taking his gaze from hers. He was a strange combination of Kurt Orin and Kurt Duncan. Dark blond hair replaced brown, slightly ruffled with a natural wave. Intense, pale blue eyes rimmed with darkest blue stared back at her like lasers.

"Only a fool would suggest you were. You’ve had one near-miss already today. I refuse to take any more chances with the life of the woman I love."

Ellie tucked her arms over her chest and propped herself against the door. This was too much. "My God, you’ll say anything for sex." She shook her head, marveling at his audacity.

"Why? Because you think you’re unworthy of being loved?"

A twist to the knife in her heart. She blinked away a new rush of tears and grabbed for the door.

Kurt shoved his shoulder against it. "I’mnot leaving, Ellie. If you won’t accept that I’ve fallen in love with you, at least let me do my job as a law enforcement officer and protect you."

The fight went out of her. The whole day had just been too much. All she wanted was the oblivion of sleep. "Fine. Stay. I’m sure you’ll find the couch quite comfortable."

She did an about-face and trotted upstairs before what little composure she possessed crumbled. Never had she felt more vulnerable, more depressed. As tears fell, she crawled fully clothed into bed.

How could Kurt pierce through defenses Ellie never knew she had? Everything he said was true and she’d never realized it until now. He was a brutally honest mirror held up to her ego. She downplayed her looks to be considered serious in her job. She avoided relationships because she didn’t like the turmoil of having to deal with another person’s ego. But unworthy of love? That’s where he’d missed the mark. Ellie wasn’t unworthy of his love. She simply refused to believe him. Now if Kurt Orin had uttered those words and not Agent Duncan…

Ellie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. They were the same man. Why did her mind, her heart, insist on separating them?

Hades curled into the curve of her body. She dug her fingers into his long fur. "At least I know you truly love me."

He gave her a sympathetic meow, then his ears perked up and he looked toward the door. Ellie glanced that way and saw Kurt’s shadow hovering there.

"I love you with all my heart, Ellie. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

"You don’t have enough hours in the day, Duncan."

"I’ve got the rest of my life, sweetheart."

Ellie’s thudding heartbeat drowned out his footsteps as he returned downstairs. This night was going to last an eternity.

Chapter 13

Ellie awoke from a troubled sleep before sunrise. Awake or asleep Kurt was in her mind. One part of her wanted to forgive him, to believe his sweet declaration of love. The other part wanted to wish him into a cornfield. One thing she couldn’t deny—her body craved contact with him and that made her angry.

She hauled on her sweats, tied her hair back, and trotted downstairs ready for a long morning run. The first thing she saw was Kurt and Hades bonding in the kitchen over cat chow, coffee, and Kurt’s ever-present meal of peanut butter on bread. He wore nothing except white boxer shorts. Ellie didn’t know how he could stand it in the chilly house. She didn’t know how much longershe could stand being around him, but still, she remained in the doorway, quiet and unobserved.

His chest V-upped in a perfect triangle of planed muscles. A light brown line of hair around his navel vanished into the waistband of his shorts. His legs, strong and muscular, were casually crossed at the ankles as he leaned against the counter. His only flaws were the two dimpled scars, one on his upper thigh, the other on his left shoulder. Made by… Of course. They looked like bullet wounds.

He popped the remains of his bread into his mouth, washed it down with the last of his coffee, then carefully swiped a paper towel over his lips. Hades yanked his head out of the food bowl long enough to give Kurt a thank-you meow. Kurt responded by squatting next to the cat and stroking his long fingers over the silky fur. Hades arched his back with affection, but kept his head down. Ellie could hear the rumbling purr across the room. She knew the feeling well. All Kurt had to do was touch her and she wanted to melt.

A shiver wiggled down her spine. She had to get out of here. A good run would dampen her hormones. She inched past them, heading for the kitchen door leading into the garage.

"Where are you going?"

Ellie’s hand froze on the doorknob. "I always run in the morning. If you recall, I missed yesterday. I can’t slack off."

"Give me a minute and I’ll go with you." He paused in the doorway, waiting for her response.

"You intend to run like that?" She raked a skeptical gaze over him.

Kurt gave her a lazy smile. "And have all the women in Twentynine Palms chasing after me? No way. I’m a one-woman man now. I had Vic come over last night to stand watch for an hour while I went home

and got some of my things." He pointed.

Ellie followed the direction of his finger. His clothes were now strewn all over her living room. He hadn’t just brought a few things over, he’d moved in!

"You might as well pack your gear back up. You are not living with me. You’re not staying here any longer than necessary." She grabbed the knob to yank open the door.

Kurt shoved his palm against the door. "I’m not living without you either. How long do you intend to stay mad at me?"

Ellie gave him her best eat-shit-and-die look. "An eternity seems too short a time."

"I see."

His fiery blue gaze was too intense, too personal, as if he looked into the deepest, most secret places of her heart. Ellie broke contact first. She struggled to maintain composure. His heat wrapped around her, beckoning her closer. God help her, but she wanted the big, stupid jerk.

"I…I need to go for my run."

"And I intend to go with you."

"Your legs are longer than mine. I could never keep up with you."

"Added aerobic activity is supposed to give you more stamina if you keep it up for long periods of time."

The veiled reference to their love-making tugged at her libido. He was close enough to kiss. Ellie stifled the quiver in her thighs and glared up at him.

"Why do you have to turn everything you say into a sexual innuendo?"

"Why do you have to twist everything I say into one?"

Muttering a string of curses that would have made a drill instructor blush, Ellie shoved away from the door. "All right. Just get ready. You’re wasting my time. I have an appointment I need to keep at the optometrist’s."

She waited for him to make some snide comment. Thankfully, none came. He dressed quickly in navy blue running pants and matching T-shirt. Kurt strapped on a shoulder holster, then topped off his outfit with a black Beretta nine millimeter. That’s when the full impact of the danger she was in hit her. She stared at the weapon, eyes wide.

"No one’s going to hurt you, Ellie. Not while I’ve got breath in my body." He tucked his cell phone into one of his zippered pockets.

All Ellie could do was nod. Her run was spoiled, not by Kurt’s presence, but by the taint of evil lurking in the air. How could her life have gotten so twisted up in so short a time?

They set out on their run. Before she realized it, they were back at her house. She even relinquished the privilege of unlocking the door to Kurt. Once his quick check revealed that all appeared well, she stepped inside, lifting her glasses to wipe the sweat off of her face.

"Time’s short. I won’t be long in the shower. Then it’s all yours."

Ellie trotted upstairs. She seriously needed to take a vacation to pull herself in order. She should drive down to San Diego and visit her dad and stepmom. She had planned to go down next weekend for Christmas anyway. Away from danger, away from Kurt, submerged in the unconditional love her father and Dee always gave. Of course, her mother would pitch a royal fit when she found out she’d spent the holidays with them again. Ellie didn’t care.

She clicked the bathroom door shut, shrugged off her clothes, and stepped under the warm spray. If only she had time for a long tub soak, soft music, candles, some chocolate covered strawberries, and glass of good champagne to tickle it down.

Tonight.Her smile quickly faded. Tonight she was going undercover.

Cool air rushed around her, followed by the rattle of the shower curtain sliding open. Ellie wiped the water from her eyes and glared up at a very naked Kurt.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" She draped the tiny washcloth in front of her breasts, scowled, and quickly moved it lower.

He shrugged one shoulder and gave her an innocent look that screamed a warning. "Showering. You said we were short on time. This should help." He stepped into the shower stall behind her and slid the curtain shut.

"Do you know how close you are to the end of your life?" she pushed out through bared teeth.

Kurt smiled and grabbed the soap. "Come on. We’re conserving water. I’ll wash your back. You wash mine." The lather grew in his hands. He rested the bar in its holder and traced his hands over her breasts.

Shock waves of electricity ripped through Ellie. She gasped for breath and fumbled for the wall to keep from falling.

"Kurt, please…"

He slipped his fingers lower, spreading soap in their wake. Suds slipped slowly down her stomach, trailing down her hips and thighs.

Ellie clamped her legs closed. "No."

He stood back. "All right." Grabbing her hand, he slapped the soap into her palm and presented his back to her. "If you wouldn’t mind."

She stared at that vast expanse for what seemed an eternity before she lathered her hands and swooped over his skin. Her touch was accompanied by his sharp intake of breath. So, she wasn’t the only one affected. A double-edged sword, at best.

Empowered, Ellie took her time, tracing his spine, the sharp contours of his shoulder blades and each defined muscle. Down and around, up and over. To his perfectly tight backside and the cleft in his buttocks. To his shoulders and the cut in his biceps that quivered under her touch. Down his legs, up his thighs, inside, out. The small jerky motions his body made beneath her hands gave her a perverse sense of power, of pleasure.

"God, Ellie, please," a ragged gasp tore from his throat. He clutched the towel bar like an exquisite sacrifice. He was hers to do with as she pleased. She was totally in control. Damn, it felt good.

"Turn around." An order, not a request. And Kurt obeyed. He was harder, bigger than she’d ever seen him. The knowledge she had the power to do this to him was the biggest aphrodisiac a woman could have. The question was, what did she intend to do about it? There was only one thing she could do, and she gave herself over to that demand.

Twisting around, she backed slowly against him, bent forward, reached behind and guided him deep into her moist heat. He sank deeper into her than ever before, his generous length bumping against her cervix, a kind of pleasure pain. She shifted her hips, mutely appealing for more.

A low groan ripped from his throat. One muscular arm wrapped around her waist while the other grasped the shower rail in an effort to keep them from falling. He shifted, allowing her to press her palms flat against the water-streaked ceramic tile, and gave her the full measure of his passion. Slowly, he began to thrust, each motion deliberately savored. She arched her back, gasping, unable to catch her breath, and urged him on. Kurt obliged, finally putting one hand on each side of her hips, driving into her faster and faster.

Ellie’s world was upside down. She reveled in the feel of Kurt straining against her. The warm water caressed them both as they pressed ever closer, their labored breathing a counterpoint to the slap of skin

on skin. The tension snapped, and a delicious, drawn-out climax quaked between them, all shaking muscles and shuddering breath. For a moment, he rested, chest and stomach muscles heaving against her spine. With gentle care, he eased from her body.

Without a word Ellie soaped between her legs, rinsed quickly, and stepped from the shower. Kurt turned off the water seconds later and followed. He waited in the bathroom while she towel-dried her hair in the bedroom, then his shadow fell over her. She glanced up as she lifted her arms to braid her hair.

"Here…let me."

He moved over to where she sat on the bed, slid behind her, and picked up the rich mass of her hair. When the last pin was in place, he caught her arms in a gentle hold and brushed a kiss against her shoulder.

"I’m not sorry we made love just now. I’m not sorry we ever made love. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Hard as it might be to believe, I love you."

Those damned tears flooded her eyes once more. Ellie blinked them away and stood. "I have to get ready for work. Do you suppose I could have a little privacy?"

"Sure." He rubbed his chin where the spirit gum had reddened it.

Ellie examined his face. It was strange and familiar all at the same time. The soft brown beard and mustache replaced by taut skin and angular cheekbones. "How did you get that scar on your chin?" she finally asked.

He traced it with one finger. "My little sister hit me in the face with the end of a vacuum cleaner attachment when I was six years old."

"Why?" She had to ask.

He grinned. "Because I cut all the hair off her favorite doll."

Ellie didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help it.

He smiled with satisfaction. "Is there somewhere I can put my clothes?"

"Yes." She wiggled into a pair of silk panties. "In your own home."

"Not open for discussion, love." He patted her bottom as he passed, then laughed at her outraged glare.

Ellie shut and locked the door behind him. She doubted it would hold back a determined man, and Kurt was definitely that. Maybe it was time she faced facts—she was addicted to him, being with him, making love with him. It was worse than having an unlimited supply of chocolate within hand’s reach. More humiliating was that he knew the effect he had on her and used it to his advantage.

But who had the advantage in the shower? She called the shots. Ellie smiled as she buttoned her camouflage blouse. Looked like she wasn’t the only one fighting urges here.

A sudden thought struck her. They hadn’t used protection. She froze, fingers numb on the buttons. What if she got pregnant? It was too late to do anything about it now, but what if? She did a rapid calculation and they were safe. Surprisingly, disappointment filtered in.

The phone blasted out a ring and jolted through her thoughts. This time of morning, there was only one person it could be. She didn’t know if she had the energy to talk to her mother. She certainly didn’t have the time.

A second ring cut off halfway through. Since her mother wouldn’t give up until she at least got the answering machine. That could only mean Kurt had picked up. Curious, Ellie picked up the cordless to eavesdrop.

"Who the hell are you?" Her mother’s haughty tone demanded answers.

"I’m Kurt. Who the hell are you?"

Ellie smothered laughter under her hand.

"I’m Eleanor’s mother. Don’t get smart with me, young man. I’ve heard about the shenanigans going on there. Bernadette McFee has been very informative."

"I beat the thieving old biddy has. Did she also tell you she’s violated several California State laws regarding her tenant?"

"She only has Eleanor’s best interests at heart. Let me speak to my daughter right now."

Time to take action. Ellie raced down the stairs and shook her head at Kurt. A broad smile cut across his face.

"She can’t come to the phone right now. It’s not…convenient. For either of us."

Her mother sucked in an outraged gasp. God only knew where her mind was. "How dare you engage in intercourse while you speak to me!"

"Intercourse?" His silvery-blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh…you mean sex. No, we’re done with that for now. You just missed it though. But I could probably go for a nooner. Why don’t you call back at lunch?"

That left her mother sputtering. Before she could recover, Kurt jumped in again.

"Is there a message I can give to Ellie when she gets done washing sweat and other various bodily fluids from her body?"

Ellie turned the mouthpiece away and bit back a shriek of laughter.

"Tell her to call me." Each word was shoved out through clenched teeth. A loud click announced that her mother had slammed down the phone.

Ellie released her pent-up laughter. "Well, what do you know, Kurt Orin Duncan. Youdo have your uses."

He gave her a wink and seated the receiver on the downstairs wall unit. "And I kill spiders, too."

"What more could a woman ask for?"

He leaned over to the coffee table and picked up a piece of bread slathered with peanut butter. "Breakfast?"

She slipped it from his fingers and together they walked into the kitchen. His expression turned solemn as he filled their mugs with coffee. He handed Ellie one, then reached up and flicked his index finger at the corner of her mouth.

"Peanut butter." But instead of wiping his finger on a napkin, he drew it to his mouth and licked it off.

Ellie’s heart tumbled. How could such an innocent gesture feel so intimate? Because it was something shared.

"If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m either going to have to take you right here on the floor or walk around hard all day."

His voice was low, husky, clearly not joking. The way his lovely eyes stared into hers backed him up.

And in that second Ellie knew she couldn’t deny what her heart demanded to say.

"Kurt, I…"

He placed his fingers over her lips. "Don’t say anything yet, sweetheart. I want you to think about a few things first. I might have out and out lied to you about who I was. And believe me, I have cursed myself seven ways to Sunday for that. It was stupid of me. But one thing’s for sure—I never lied about my feelings. Never. Think about that today. Think about everything that happened since you gave that wig back to Susan. Please."

She stretched on tiptoe, he bent closer, their lips met somewhere in-between. He tasted of peanut butter and coffee. Or was that her? It didn’t matter, they were one. Ellie would have told him then and there just how she felt if she hadn’t been afraid he would think she was caught up in the moment. So, as they sealed their kiss, she left the words unsaid.

"We need to get going or we’ll both be late for work," he said. "I’ll drive so you can eat."

"Don’t forget I have an eye appointment this afternoon."

"We’ll grab lunch, then go."

Ellie decided she could get used to being chauffeured. To actually be able to eat and enjoy her coffee rather than gulp it down or do without? Well, that was a treat. Kurt drove her straight to the side door of her building, and kissed her good-bye.

The first person Ellie saw when she finally stepped from his car was First Sergeant Yost. The man’s wide-eyed expression pleased her to no end, but she kept her mouth shut. Anything she said now would be scathingly sarcastic. Let the old devil dog think what he wanted. No doubt he’d be cornering Kurt later demanding all the sordid details.

She breezed into her office, nodding good mornings to those she passed. Kurt’s flowers greeted her. She gave them a drink and settled down to transcribe a court-martial.

"Think about everything…"

Memories poured in. He could have left after knowing she wasn’t his suspect, but he’d stayed. Yes, he could have stayed for the sex, but flowers the next day said more. He asked for a truce between her and Agent Duncan, defended her against Yost, bought her lunch, even went Christmas shopping with her knowing she was choosing her own gift. He never blinked at the cost. What was it he said?

"She’s worth every penny and more."

"Definitely marriage material."

And he’d been talking about her. Emotion clogged her throat. Words blurred together both on screen and on the recorder.

"Are you all right, Staff Sergeant?"

Ellie jumped at the sound of the Staff Judge Advocate’s voice. Blinking her vision clear, she glanced up at Colonel Scott. She didn’t have too much interaction with this man, but she sure did like him. His bald head, sky blue eyes that always seemed to smile, a compassion for his people, a toughness no one could doubt—he was just about the greatest boss she’d ever had. Would it be too silly to confide in him that she’d fallen in love?

She pressed her fingers to the base of her throat. "Just overcome by emotion, sir, thinking about how lucky I am."

He cocked his head to one side. "I’d be overcome, too, if I’d just escaped death. Come to my office, Staff Sergeant."

Ellie followed without a word and he did not offer any further conversation. When they stepped into his office, she saw why. Kurt, Jess, and Vic waited there. Jess jingled the change in his pocket. Vic rested his forearms on his knees. Kurt alternately paced and stared out the small window. All three looked up

when she entered with Colonel Scott. He closed the door behind them.

"Sit." The colonel waved his hand toward the sofa and two chairs as he settled behind his desk. Once there, he laced his fingers before him. "Staff Sergeant Severance, there’s not much sense re-hashing all this. Everyone here knows the story. Judging from your rush of emotion moments ago, and the fact that Agent Duncan is vehemently opposed to this plan, I will surmise that a relationship has developed between the two of you?"

"Yes, sir, it has." Kurt’s tone defied him to say something against it.

The colonel laughed and let his head sag dramatically. "It’s beginning to feel like the damned Love Boat around here. Every time I turned around…" He jerked his head up. "Have you met the Stuarts and the Taylors, Staff Sergeant?"

Frowning, Ellie shook her head.

Colonel Scott smiled and leaned back. "No doubt you will soon enough." His gaze shot among the men. "Unless you’ve got them involved somehow, and I should be pulling some extra chairs in here?"

Jess cleared his throat. "Both women are expecting children, sir. Claudia Taylor is due to have a little girl next month. Rowan is four months pregnant and still sick as a dog."

"If those two women were involved in this mess, I don’t think even pregnancy could stop them." He focused on Ellie once more. "And now we come to you. You know the risks. I’m sure Agent Duncan has spent some time laying them out for you. Is there anything I can say to make you change your mind?"

She kept her chin level and thought of Jeremy. "Only a direct order from you, sir, would stop me from going through with this."

He nodded once, looking resigned. "Why should I be one to stand in the way of justice? Just try to keep her safe and in one piece, gentlemen. She’s a fine Marine. I sure don’t want anything to happen to her."

Dismissed, Ellie filed out with Kurt and Vic. Jess held back. As they walked down the hallway, she heard him say, "So, you coming to dinner tonight? Vera will be there…"

Ellie laughed to herself.Colonel Scott and Vera Livretti? Then she grinned with delight. What could be more perfect?

"What’s so funny?" Kurt asked.

She jerked her head toward the office. "Jess playing match-maker." She touched him lightly on the arm, caressing him with her thumb through the soft material of his knit shirt. See you at lunch?"

He nodded. "And then you’re loaned out to NCIS until this is over." As he had earlier, he dropped a kiss to her lips as they parted. Somehow it seemed right.

***

His final appeal failed as Kurt suspected it would. Colonel Scott’s take on the whole matter was that he was smart enough not to stand in the way of a strong-willed woman determined to seek justice. Reluctantly, Kurt had to agree. Ellie would do what Ellie wanted to do. Nothing and no one would stand in her way. He’d learned that fast from working with Claudia Taylor.

If he and Ellie were going to have a future together—and they damned sure were as far as he was concerned—he had to accept that quality in her, too. He already respected it, even admired her for it.

At least she wasn’t mad at him any more or she didn’t seem like it. A bond had formed with her mother’s phone call. No matter how annoying the intrusion was, Kurt had to bless her for giving both of them some common ground, for letting Ellie see he was on her side. Now all they had to do was get her safely through this evening’s surveillance.

As they drove back to the NCIS office in Vic’s sedan, he and Jess dissected the plan again. Kurt would get to the Lost Oasis beforehand disguised as a older local man. It was either that or his Kiki LaRue get up. The last thing he wanted Ellie to see right now was him disguised as a woman. And if he had to run

after somebody, he’d prefer not to have to do so in heels. Plus shaving his legs was a bitch.

Vic swung into his front-and-center parking space at NCIS headquarters. A string of curses soon followed. Kurt looked up to find Lee Parsons stomping across the parking lot toward them. Obviously, local law enforcement had decided not to act on Kurt’s call of a drunk driver.

One by one they cleared the vehicle and waited. Parsons’ face was that perpetually mottled shade of red.

"I saw you at the SJA’s, then I saw him bring her to his office." He pointed a shaking finger at Kurt. "Thenhe kissed her!" His voice echoed across the empty parking lot. "What the hell is this? I want that bitch in jail."

Jess fanned the air, trying to calm him. "Whoa, son. You’ve got the wrong woman. We’ve learned she isn’t the one."

"Bullshit! The hell she isn’t. I’d recognize that sweet ass anywhere. I’m telling you she’s got you all fooled. Especially this one." He jabbed his finger into Kurt’s chest.

Kurt grabbed it. "You touch me once more, you son of a bitch, and I’ll break your finger."

Parsons jerked free. The red in his face deepened to puce. "She’s playing you all. While she’s dinkin’ you on the side, she’s still plantin’ her little threats. There was a video in my car this morning and the only place I was all night was…"

Lee apparently thought better of finishing his sentence. There was no need. Kurt already knew Parsons had lurked outside Ellie’s house, watching it. What he couldn’t understand was how Susan managed to sneak a tape into the car without Parsons noticing. Either the big idiot had fallen asleep or she’d slipped the tape in later, after he’d given up on his stint at Ellie’s condo.

"If you’d give us the tape, we’ll be glad to process it as evidence," Vic said.

Parsons shot him a glare. "Never mind. I’m sick of waiting for you." He sliced his hands through the air. "I’m through with all of you bastards."

Jess grabbed the man’s shoulder and held him in place. "Listen to me! Don’t do anything foolish. If we find you’ve harassed Staff Sergeant Severance…"

Parsons shrugged free and stomped away.

Vic massaged the back of his neck. "We’ve got to get the goods on Susan Bolotnik before this gets out of hand."

"Looks like it’s already out of hand to me," Jess said. "But let’s handle one problem at a time. We’ve got Ellie under close watch. Parsons can’t go near her without us seeing."

And if he tried, it would be over Kurt’s dead body.

***

Kurt stood in front of Ellie’s bathroom mirror and made the final adjustments to his gray-streaked beard. A similarly colored wig and nondescript clothing completed the over-the-hill look. He’d fit in well with the stool-hugging old timers who lined the far side of the bar. They watched the young people nightly from the shadows, perhaps a little envious of what they were missing, but willing to nurse their drinks in silence. It would be the perfect vantage point to keep an eye on Ellie.

"Well? How do I look?" Ellie did a little pirouette in front of Kurt. The cocktail-length burgundy dress sighed around her shapely legs. Her long, dark hair followed, curling and clinging to her neck and back. "It’s something I bought a few days ago. I thought it would give you a nice color to focus on. You should be able to find me in a crowd."

But it wasn’t perfect to hide a wire. From the waist down, it hugged her hips accentuating the sway in her walk, and the stiletto black patent heels helped her sway a lot. Waist up, it clung softly, accentuating her feminine curves. They’d have to tape the wire down smoothly.

"It’s great."

"And I love these contact lenses. I don’t know why it took me so long to decide to take the plunge."

Kurt admired the subtle application of eye makeup, the way her gray eyes shone like black pearls. But, strangely, it didn’t matter to him whether she wore glasses or contacts. She was still his Ellie—beautiful inside and out.

"Who knows, maybe we’ll be talking you into lasik surgery before long. Let’s get this wire in place and test it. Vic and Jess are around the corner in the van."

Ellie pulled her curtain of hair to one side while Kurt unzipped her. The device was flat enough to be unobtrusive, but if anyone tried to touch her…

"Don’t let them dance with you. Just get in, ask the questions, and get out like we rehearsed. All we need to do is find out what they want. That’s enough for now, okay?"

She nodded, a faraway look in her eyes.

"You’re scared, aren’t you?"

"Yes." Her voice was just above a whisper.

Kurt clicked his gaze down to hers. "You can always back out and no one will fault you."

She gave a quick shake of her head. Pulling in a breath, Kurt taped the wire and receiver in place just under her breasts. "That’s going to hurt like hell when we pull it off."

"Promise me a bubble bath afterward and I’ll let you peel it away." Her attempt at a smile faltered.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He gave her a kiss. "It’ll all be over soon. Okay, here goes. I’m turning it on. Test, test, test."

His cell phone blasted out a single ring. Kurt straightened. "That’s it. I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes. No sooner." Another kiss and he was gone.

***

Ellie heard him pull away.Scared? She shook, she was so frightened. She prayed she could play her part well and her quivering voice wouldn’t give her away. All she needed to do was convince them she knew what Jeremy was up to. Hopefully, they’d grab the bait and not only reveal where the rest of the shipment was, but also anyone in on the deal.

Minutes ticked by. It was time to go. Purse slung over her shoulder, she got into her car. The dress, the heels, the intrigue all held a surreal quality, like she watched herself from a distance. Or like when she was a little girl and played secret agentfemme fatale.

Ellie gave a humorless chuckle. It seemed ages ago. Itwas ages ago. And here she was in the thick of it. Every child’s fantasy come to life. All she wanted was to get it over and get back to her real life. No…the real life she wanted to have with Kurt. Her watch beeped. Time to go.

***

The lights of the Lost Oasis beckoned. From her parking space Ellie saw Kurt walk casually into the club. She’d passed his car just one block away. The surveillance van was perched across the street in the shadow of a long-abandoned restaurant.

"Okay, guys, here I go." She shoved open the car door.

A gust of chill wind wiggled up her dress, taking her breath away. Clutching the hem to keep it flat, Ellie ran to the front door. The noise slammed into her the second she stepped across the threshold. Her improved vision revealed the faces that went along with the noise. Somehow, it was all the same. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand how someone could put up with coming here night after night.

She scanned the crowd for McConnell and Clark. Nothing. Walking up the stairs from the entrance area, she passed her gaze over the Marines at the bar. They laughed and made sport of the old men seated on the other side. Still no sign of her quarry.

Jeez, she was nervous. She wove through the crowd until she reached a table near the bar. A waitress zoomed up before Ellie’s bottom could touch the seat.

"What’ll you have?"

"Diet Coke. I’m driving."

"At least that’s the plan, huh? Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky, especially dressed like that."

The cheeky girl flashed a smile and was back in seconds with a tall glass. Two cherries were plopped on top. Ellie picked up one by the stem and yanked it off with her teeth. The other soon followed. Still no McConnell or Clark. Nor had they shown by the time Ellie finished her second drink.

Maybe Jess’ info was wrong. Or the two had gotten wise to the trap. Or maybe it was something as innocent as having to sit duty at the base. No, Jess would have checked that.

Ellie sighed. The soda traveled through her fast. She motioned the waitress over. "Another Diet Coke, please, and could you save my table while I run to the ladies room?" To ensure her assistance, Ellie slipped the girl a generous tip.

She passed the old timers on her way. A few heads turned, Kurt’s in particular. As she ducked down the tiny hall to the restrooms, she thought she heard footsteps behind her. Kurt checking on her safety, no

doubt. She glanced over her shoulder as she slipped into the room in time to see someone duck into the men’s room. How could a woman not love a man so protective? She half expected to see him standing there when she walked out and was a little disappointed to find the hall vacant.

Tamping down her smile, Ellie hung her purse over her shoulder. The men’s bathroom door swung open, blocking her way.

"Going somewhere, girlie?"

Her eyes widened at the dark-haired Marine standing in her path. He was solid, built like a boxer, with over-muscled arms that strained the seams of his shirt. His hands were huge, his shoulders doubly so. His flat dark eyes were fixed upon her face with unnerving intensity. Fear twisted her gut.

"Let me pass or I’ll scream."

He shook his head slowly. "And you expect to be heard over this noise?" He gestured toward the din that pounded down the hallway from the dance floor. He smiled, revealing a row of white, even teeth. "You and I have some unfinished business, baby."

"I’m not who you think I am." God, the man was huge. All the self-defense training in the world wouldn’t help her bring him down. The best she could hope for was to stall him until Vic and Jess realized she was in trouble. "You’re making a mistake. This is going to land you in very serious trouble." She tried to dive back into the women’s restroom, praying he wouldn’t follow.

"You’re coming with me." He struck out one huge hand and snagged her with a grip of steel.

Ellie slammed her small purse against his head. Nothing.

He laughed, an oddly high-pitched sound for a man of his size. "Yeah, I know you like it rough. And I’m ready to play."

His hand lashed out with the speed of a viper. Ellie’s head snapped back. Her cheek burned fiery hot. Shock stole her breath. Tears blinded her. She pulled in a breath, praying someone would hear her scream. He merely laughed again, stuffed a gag between her lips and yanked her arms behind her back. He put his face close to hers, breath hot upon her cheek.

"Now we’ll see who’s in serious trouble, pumpkin."

Chapter 14

Kurt nursed his bottle of beer. Every so often he’d bring the opening to his lips and take what looked like a drink. The liquid hadn’t dropped below the top of the label. That was the good thing about a dark bottle—unless someone looked carefully they’d never notice if it was full or empty. But he’d been sitting here for almost an hour with no sign of their target.

So far no one had paid him much mind. Even the bartender slid the beer to him without so much as a glance and left him alone after that. Probably didn’t expect a scruffy old guy to spend much money on beer. The only other person who had even glanced his way was Tripp, and he’d merely rolled his eyes at the unkempt get-up when Kurt walked in the door.

Jess must have alerted DEA to their plan, or Tripp wouldn’t have put in an appearance. Kurt cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner, but he did have other things on his mind. Seeing his cousin lounging at the booth nearest the front door gave him some peace of mind. At least he’d have immediate back up if he needed it.

What he didn’t like was the way Tripp’s midnight blue eyes measured Ellie when she walked in the door earlier. Stripped her naked with a glance. Looked like the Duncan cousins were going to have to have a serious talk real soon.

He glanced toward the restrooms. How much longer was she going to be? Not that it mattered since their prey had failed to show.

The front door opened, disgorging another flood of people. Surely the building exceeded the fire code by now. Ellie’s instincts about the burgundy dress were good. She stuck out like a rose on a snowdrift and looked just about as out of place.

There they are.

McConnell and Clark staggered in, each draped over a women and looking like they’d seen better days. They were in the perfect position to get a front-on look at Ellie when she came out of the ladies room. Kurt couldn’t wait to see the expressions on their faces.

"We’ve got a problem." Vic’s voice crackled into the earpiece Kurt wore. "I can hear her shouting at a man."

Kurt tensed, waiting for more details, trying not to show any alarm. He glanced again toward the restrooms. Ellie still hadn’t come out. He slid from his stool and started walking in that direction. A burst of static made him wince.

"Someone’s got her," Vic said. "She’s in trouble. I don’t hear her voice anymore and the wire isn’t picking up anything. Do you see her?"

"No, damn it! She’s in the head," he shouted, breaking his cover. No one in the bar bothered to look his way.

Kurt shoved himself through the crush of bodies. It might as well have been an impenetrable wall of thorns. Through an opening ahead, just outside the hallway to the restrooms, he saw a flash of red. Then a curtain of dark hair came into view as Parsons ducked toward the back of the club with Ellie tossed over his shoulder.

Kurt broke into a cold sweat as he shoved the packed crowd aside in a wild attempt to reach Ellie. He shouted desperately into his own transmitter. "Parsons is taking her out the back! I can’t get through! I can’t get to her!"

He thought he heard Vic scrambling. It was hard to tell with all the noise. Someone had to get to Ellie.

The music changed. The tide of people shifted. Kurt shoved forward through a gap and sprinted out what looked like the club’s unused kitchen. The back exit door was still wide open. Kurt sprinted for it and burst into the cold, dark night, chest heaving. He spun around, searching.

Parsons’ white Grand Am careened across the dirt parking lot toward freedom. Kurt jerked his pistol from his shoulder holster as he raced after it. He caught movement from the corner of his eye as Vic approached from the van. Weapon drawn, his friend took a stance in front of the onrushing vehicle.

"Law enforcement! Stop! Now," Vic shouted.

Dirt and gravel spit from behind car. Kurt watched, horror-stricken as Parsons plowed headlong into Vic. His friend bounced off the hood like a crash test dummy, then landed in a crumpled heap ten feet away.

"Man down! 9-1-1," Kurt shouted into his own transmitter. He prayed Jess was still in the van, monitoring the operation. As he ran to his friend and knelt by his side, he saw Parsons’ red taillights disappear into the night.

Tripp skidded to a stop beside him. Kurt jerked his head around, pointing in the direction of the departing vehicle.

"That way! Now! He’s got Ellie as a hostage! White Grand Am."

It still took his cousin a full minute to reach his own car and begin pursuit. Kurt felt a wrench of despair and fear at the thought of Ellie in Parsons’ demented clutches. Tripp would never pick up their trail in time.

Jess looked grim as he dashed across the street from the surveillance van. "Police and paramedics are on the way." When Vic groaned, Jess knelt beside him to grasp his hand. "Hang on, Vic. It’s going to be okay."

"Helen—" Vic muttered.

"We’ll call her," Jess reassured him.

Vic’s eyes flickered to Kurt. "Her wire’s still running. You might get some clues."

"They’re out of range by now. My guess is that she’s knocked out cold. Tripp followed. They went east. If I leave now, I might be able to catch up. We could have the police run the plates under Parsons’ name. Put out an all points bulletin for his car." Kurt realized then that he was rambling aloud.

Jess stared up at him across Vic’s body, his hand firmly grasping the fallen agent’s. The older man sympathized. Kurt was grateful for that. But Jess was also clear-headed about the reality of the situation, something Kurt couldn’t be right now. Hard as it was, he forced himself to take an emotional giant step back and evaluate things objectively with more common sense.

Someone needed to call Helen and tell her about Vic before she found out from the local radio news. Someone also needed to monitor the van’s equipment just in case they were closer than Kurt suspected. If there was a chance Ellie could give them a clue as to her whereabouts, they needed to take it.

He swallowed hard. "I’ll be in the van."

"Good. I’ll meet you there as soon as the paramedics get Vic on his way to the hospital. I need you to call Helen. Have her meet us at the emergency room."

"Will do." Kurt ran across the street. Flashing red and blue lights signaled the arrival of the local police. An ambulance closed the gap behind them. He slipped his cell phone from the deep front pocket of his baggy jeans.

Helen took the news without hysterics, but her voice was strained and high. Luckily, Janie Brighton was still there to offer moral support. Still, it had to be a nightmare for both of them considering they’d lost a dear friend in a similar accident the year before. Kurt prayed that Vic would be all right. After repeating Jess’ instructions to Helen, he disconnected.

He stopped two feet from the van’s back door. The pointlessness of his actions overwhelmed him. He should be following, giving chase, trying to find her, not sitting in this damned van feeling like his hands were tied behind his back. The thought resurrected the image of Ellie being hauled from the bar. Her handswere tied behind her back. He didn’t want to think about what Parsons had planned for her. The man was obviously insane. Anything could happen.

To hell with it.Kurt did a one-eighty and ran down the street. He couldn’t sit still and wait. It might be like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, but he had to do something to find her. He tore off the disguise piece by piece as he ran. By the time he reached his car, only the baggy jeans remained. He stripped down to the regular jeans beneath, then tossed everything to the back seat, plugged in the earpiece to his cell phone, and started up the engine.

As he combed the streets looking for any sign of the Grand Am, Kurt tried to think like a madman. If he were Parsons, where would he take Ellie? Parsons wanted the blackmailer to leave him alone. He would want all the blackmail pictures and videos Susan had taken, and Kurt didn’t doubt he’d use force to get them. This was a man who acted on impulse, not on common sense. Kurt was counting on that fact to help find them.

He sent up a short prayer. "Hang on, honey. Just hang on."

***

Ellie tasted blood in her mouth. By slow degrees, she pulled away from unconsciousness. She was in a car. Judging from that crisp, one-of-a-kind smell, it was a new car. The man had tossed her in the backseat like a bag of dirty laundry and she now lay crumpled, face-down on the floor. At least she could be thankful it was a new car—she didn’t have to deal with the filth from an old one.

Still, being on the floor, stuck in this discarded rag-doll position was no treat. With her hands tied behind her back, it was impossible to move. The carpet scuffed her cheek. It was hard to breathe and her head

throbbed from the blow he’d delivered when she spit his gag back at him. Probably wasn’t one of her smarter moves, but did he actually expect she would allow him to kidnap her without a fight?

She pulled her eyelids open, then had to blink several times to settle her contacts in place. How long had she been out? Were they still in Twentynine Palms or one of the other nearby towns? Surely she hadn’t been unconscious long. Ellie forced herself to focus on the surroundings. The car rode smoothly so she knew they were on a hard surface road. Street signs passed at regular intervals—still in town somewhere. Few vehicles passed them—not on the main thoroughfare.

Who was this man? One of Susan’s victims out for revenge, one of Jeremy’s associates wanting the ketamine, or just a crazed fool? It didn’t look good for her, no matter who it was. If she could talk to him, reason with him… Ellie didn’t want to think beyond that, refused to speculate on what he had planned for her.

She managed to maneuver to her knees. The pull of the wire taped to her torso reminded Ellie she wasn’t truly alone. Of course, the range on the device wasn’t that far, but if they were monitoring her, she still might be able to give them a clue as to her location.

Ellie dismissed the idea. Talk might antagonize him. The man knocked her out once. He obviously meant her harm. The longer she played dead, the better her chance for survival. She had to survive, had to give Kurt a way to somehow, in some way find her.

Her determination was nearly squelched when her captor hit a deep pothole. She fell, face first and another jolt jounced her hard against the floor. Ellie gritted her teeth to keep from crying out. He swerved sharply around a corner, tumbling her forward on her head then back to her knees. Another sharp turn and they stopped with a jerk.

He cut the engine and opened the door on silent hinges. He was less careful about closing it. Then the rear door swung open. Icy cold air swirled about her. Ellie prayed she could suppress a shiver. He grabbed her shoulders. She had to stay limp, keep her eyes closed, make him work to get her out of the car, delay whatever fate he had in store for her.

When he couldn’t lift her shoulders up and through the door, he grabbed her bound wrists and pulled. A hot spear of pain stabbed Ellie between her shoulder blades. Her face twisted with a grimace. She prayed he couldn’t see her. He yanked again. Sheer stubborn will kept her silent.

Muttering a curse, he wrapped her long hair around his fist and tugged. Strands ripped from her scalp. Tears slipped from beneath her lids. She sent up another prayer of thanks when he finally gave up. Next he grabbed handfuls of dress material. Seams ripped as he hoisted her higher and higher then dropped her onto the seat face down.

The car sagged as he crawled in beside her. Cold metal touched her hands. There was a tug and she was free. He’d cut the bonds from her wrists, probably in an attempt to better carry her.

Now what? Did she try to make a run for it? Not yet. She’d wait until he actually got her out of the car.

He pulled her arms forward and wrapped his thick hands around her wrists. With one long pull, he heaved her out onto the driveway. Concrete ripped a hole in her dress, tore her pantyhose, and scraped her knees.

The man squatted down beside her, rolled her to her back, straddled her and grabbed her wrists once more.

Now!

Ellie plowed her knees deep into his crotch. His howl of pain ripped the night as he clutched the offended body part, then toppled to his side on the concrete. Ellie kicked off her high heels and sprinted down the street. A few darkened, fenced houses surrounded them, but Ellie had no idea whether or not the gates were unlocked or if anyone was home. She decided she couldn’t risk being trapped inside a fenced yard, so she kept running and began shouting.

"Help! Somebody help me!"

Nothing. Not so much as one light clicked on.

Just aim for the cross street. Aim for where the lights are.

Ellie knew the futility of such a goal. The desert played tricks with distance. The safety she thought she could see could be miles away, not blocks. Asphalt cut into her shoeless feet, still she beat a path toward what she hoped was help.

Run.Run.

Her steps echoed off silent houses. Fear struck as she realized it was no echo—the man was coming up fast behind her. She tried one last, desperate attempt.

"Help! Fire!"

A flying tackle smashed her to the ground. Air whooshed from her lungs. He yanked her head up by the hair, weighed her body down with his groin indecently pressed to her backside. A porch light clicked on, glinting on the blade of a pocket knife in her captor’s hand. He pressed the tip against the pulse at her throat.

"One word and I’ll cut you here and leave you to die. It doesn’t much matter to me how I get you out of my life. I just want those pictures and videos."

So, this was about Susan’s blackmailing, not the ketamine. That gave her something to work with, but not much. She felt his erection growing against her and prayed it wouldn’t come to that. He seemed to be excited by her lying helpless beneath him as well as the possibility she would struggle or try to shout for help.

The porch light went out, and with it, Ellie’s last hope of quick rescue. As much as she longed to cry out, the knife against her throat was too great a risk.

He waited a few minutes longer. With a slash, he cut a strip of her hem away and bound her wrists together.

"Now, we’re going to play things my way." He hauled her to her feet.

"I’m telling you, you got the wrong person."

"I saw Duncan pick you up at the bar. I followed. I’ve been following you ever since. I’ve got the right woman all right. Red hair, brown hair, it doesn’t matter. I know it’s you. I’m sick and tired of them dragging their heels with you. This shit’s gonna end tonight."

With the knife blade poking her ribs, he forced her back to the house. Each step his grip on her elbow grew a little tighter, more intense. She realized that as angry as he was now, it was a wonder she was still alive.

As they walked up the driveway, Ellie saw yellow crime tape draped over the front door. She desperately tried to take note of the house numbers, the yard, the house itself, and those around it. Black film covered all the windows. It looked like no one could see in or out of the place.

"You didn’t think I’d remember, did you, pumpkin? But I did. I sat outside your little condo last night and thought real hard about where you took me the night you fucked my brains out."

He shoved an evil leer in her face. "I was pretty drunk that night, but it finally came to me. Yes it did. It took a little searching, I’ll admit, but I’d be damned if I’d let someone like you get the better of me. And now, we’re back. Aren’t you glad to be back?"

He tore the tape away with a swipe of his hand, then reached above the sill and pulled down a key. He unlocked the door and shoved her inside. Ellie stumbled and fell onto the dusty carpet. A flick of his wrist flooded the room with dim light from a bare bulb hanging from the center of the ceiling. Other than a large sofa and a beat-up dinette set in the kitchen, there was no furniture.

"On your feet." He grabbed her arm and yanked her up. "Into the bedroom with you."

"No…please… I’m telling you, you have the wrong person."

He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her in that direction, flipping switches as he went. "Where are

they, bitch?"

Ellie struggled to keep her wits about her, to not show fear. It was impossible. Her abductor wouldn’t listen to reason.

He kicked open a door at the far end of the hall. Mirrors covered the room and ceiling. A four-poster king-sized bed covered with a black and gold velvet bedspread dominated the room. The whole thing looked like a cheap porn set gone bad. One shove and she stumbled against the mattress.

He didn’t give her time to recover. Smashing her down, he cut another length of her dress, bound one leg, flipped her to her back and bound the other.

Ellie stared at the huge mirror hovering over her. Her own reflection stared back, skin white with shock, eyes huge dark smudges. She’d give just about anything not be to able to see what he was about to do to her, but she had transcribed testimony of such events. She knew. Tears threatened. Closing her eyes, she gathered her courage and thought of Kurt.

There was a violent tug against her dress, then the sound of ripping material. Cool air brushed her exposed skin.

"What the hell is this!" He grabbed the edge of the tape holding the wire in place. "Trying to get more ammo against me?" With one yank, he tore the wire away and skin with it.

Ellie couldn’t help it—she cried out.

"Shut up. That’s the least you’ll get if you don’t give me what I want." He nestled the blade between her breasts, then sliced her bra in two. And, finally, he cut away what remained of her panty hose.

"There. Now…you’re going to give me what I want."

Couldn’t the monstersee she wasn’t the same woman? She and Susan looked nothing alike. Her breasts

were larger, Susan was fuller in the hips and stomach. Why didn’t he see?

She felt his body cover hers. Nauseated, she bit back bile and squeezed her eyes tighter.

"Scared?" He laughed. "Good." Hot breath and teeth grazed her neck. "Where are the pictures, the tapes?"

"I don’t know," she choked out on a sob.

He shifted down to her right breast. "Where?"

"I swear I…"

He bit her—hard. Ellie screamed. He bit the other breast harder. Her stomach. Each mouthful mocked her lack of power, her inability to escape.

"Please, don’t! I don’t know! Please!"

Lower he slipped, viciously biting her thighs, her calves, then he settled between her legs. His breath curled against the most intimate part of her body.

"Tell me or I swear I’ll bite it off. Then I’ll start cutting that pretty little face of yours. "

"No! No, I’ll take to where they are," she sobbed.Damn, Susan. Damn her to hell.

***

Kurt must have driven down this same street half a dozen times. No sign of the white Grand Am, Ellie, or Parsons. He’d passed Tripp earlier and they’d split the town. Jess’ appearance soon after divided the area in smaller chunks. Every so often they crossed paths to exchange information. Nothing.

He spied the surveillance van approaching ahead. Jess flashed his lights, telling Kurt to stop. He obliged, pulled up alongside, and buzzed his window down.

"Anything?"

"Possibly," Jess replied. "Tripp just radioed. He went by that house Forton rented and found Ellie’s shoes in the driveway. Told us to meet him there. Kurt… I’m sorry. He’s already searched the house. There was no sign of her."

Kurt pulled a fast three point turn and sped in the direction Jess gave him. What the hell reason would Parsons have to take her to Forton’s? Was he involved in the ketamine, too? His head spun.

Within minutes he braked to a stop in front of Forton’s former hideaway. Jess was close behind. Local police had beaten them both to the scene. One barred their march to the house. A flash of a badge and a wave from Tripp released them to pass the crime boundary line.

"What did you find?" he demanded to know. "Is there any sign of her?"

His cousin motioned him past the crime scene tape into the barren kitchen, then waited for Jess to catch up.

"I found her high heels discarded in the driveway. The tape on the door was ripped away. After calling it in to the locals, I went in. They were already gone. I found what looked to be drops of blood leading from the bedroom to the living room door."

He paused and then forced his gaze Kurt’s way. "Her pantyhose and dress were torn off her and left behind. It looks like he wrapped her in part of the bedspread. The other half is upstairs."

Kurt grabbed Tripp by the front of the shirt. "Are you saying she’s dead? Is that what you’re saying?"

Jess peeled his hands away. "Calm down, son. If she was dead, there’d be a whole lot more blood than just a few drops."

Kurt shrugged away Jess’ hand. "Not if he strangled her or just cracked her skull with his fist."

"Why do you always do that?" Tripp snapped. "Why do you always think the worst? Damnit, Kurt!"

Jess pulled to his full height. "You two know each other?"

The silence lasted a full minute before they both replied, "He’s my cousin."

The older agent snorted and shook his head. "Another Duncan… I’ll deal with this little revelation later." He took a deep breath. "All right. What made you decide to look for her here?"

Tripp pulled in a breath. "Since she and this house seemed to be the link to the ketamine it was a logical conclusion."

"This isn’t about the ketamine," Kurt pushed out through barred teeth.

Tripp lifted an eyebrow. "Isn’t it?"

Kurt didn’t know any more. He raked his fingers through his hair while Jess gave his cousin the rundown on their other investigation.

"All right," Tripp said when he was through. "Let’s dissect this logically. What does Parsons want?"

Kurt loosed a frustrated sigh. Yes, logic, that’s what they needed. "The tapes and pictures Susan Bolotnik’s been using to blackmail him."

"He’s obviously not the brightest star in the sky. Patience is not a virtue to this man. So he decides to jump to conclusions and take matters into his own hands." Tripp stared into space and rubbed the dark stubble on his jaw. "Does Ellie know where Susan lives, and would she give her up to Parsons?"

"Yes." Kurt didn’t hesitate. He ran for the door. She wasn’t stupid. She was a survivor. Now all they had to do was get to her in time.

***

Wrapped in the bedspread, Ellie drove the man’s car to Susan’s house. Her captor never once took the knife from her throat. An unfilled pothole, a hard turn, and she’d be dead. His huge hand jolted slightly as Ellie drove over a dip in the road and a hot line of blood trickled down her neck and over her breast. The nightmare drive seemed to stretch out forever, but she saw her turnoff and pulled to a stop in front of Susan’s darkened house.

He shoved her hard toward the car’s door and ordered her to do as she was told. Ellie was too traumatized to resist his command.

Shaking, she crawled from the vehicle, clutching the heavy bedspread around her. She lifted her hand to the doorbell. He batted it down.

"No. I’ll take care of this." He smashed his boot against the wood. It collapsed inward, a splintered mess.

"In." Grabbing her once more in that paralyzing grip, he pulled her across the threshold with him. Light poured from the bedroom area. He hustled her in that direction. They met Susan halfway down the hall.

The young woman’s jaw opened on a silent gasp. She jerked the belt tighter on her satin robe.

"Don’t bother." With a jerk of his hand, he pulled the belt free.

Susan was naked beneath the robe, a fact she didn’t bother to hide. Surely now he would notice she was the woman he sought.

"What the hell is this about?" Her voice was arrogant, rude, queen-like.

"I want those pictures and tapes."

A smirk lifted her lip. She tucked her arms over her chest and kicked out her hip. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. Ellie, what have you dragged me into? You two had better get the hell out of my house or I’m calling the cops."

A growl tore from his throat. A heartbeat later, he smashed his hand across Susan’s face, once, twice. Her head snapped back. Blood spurted from her nose. She hugged the wall in a gasping effort to regain balance. The confident look from a moment before had been replaced by pure fear.

"In the bedroom…both of you. I’m going to get what I want one way or the other."

They had to do something. They were two against one. Surely they could surprise him, outfox him. But Ellie couldn’t pull free of his inhumanly strong grip, and Susan seemed too dazed to understand the severity of their situation.

As he had in the other house, he bound them both to Susan’s bed. This time he tied Ellie’s leg to Susan’s, spread eagle for all the world to see. That seemed to amuse him.

He paced at the end of the bed, staring, laughing, aroused.

"Working together, I’ll bet. Taking turns with the troops. Eeny, meenie, minie, mo…" He pointed to each one, then settled on Susan. Crawling between her legs, he unzipped his pants. "This is how you like it, isn’t it, pumpkin? I could do this all night…to both of you."

The bed bounced for what seemed any eternity. Ellie squeezed her eyes shut against the horror and wished she could do the same to her ears.

Susan cried out for help, for mercy. "Parsons, Stop! Please, stop! Don’t do this to me!" It only made him wilder.

His grunts, his laughter, his cry of victory when he finished, it was a nightmare forever etched in her memory. And her turn was coming.

She dared a glance at Susan after he was done. Her one-time friend stared into space, wide-eyed, vacant, a zombie. If not for her shallow breathing, Ellie would swear she was dead. Susan had broken during the rape.

Cigarette smoke drifted her way. Ellie focused her gaze to its source, tohim . An evil grin split his features. He strolled toward her, cigarette poised, a thin silver stream drifting up from its burning end.

"Now…where shall I start? I know…on that pretty little face of yours." He took a deep drag of the cigarette, and leaned over her with its red glow trapped between his ragged nails.

Ellie’s eyes widened in horror as the ember grew closer and closer. She could feel the heat.

"Get the hell away from her!" Kurt hurled himself across the room and smashed full-force into Parsons.

Ellie saw another flash of movement, more men. Jess…Jess was here. Dimly, she was aware she was naked and that there were strange men in the room, but somehow it didn’t matter. They swarmed around Parsons and Kurt. A vaguely familiar dark-haired man around Kurt’s age cut them loose. He helped pulled Susan upright, then reached for Ellie.

Kurt shoved him back. "No, Tripp. I’ll take care of her."

The look on his face was painful to see as he loosened the cut ropes, then reached for the edges of the bedspread. His gaze passed over her, pausing at the bloody bites that marked her body. His face paled, then flushed crimson. His eyes blazed like blue diamonds.

"Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch!"

A roar tore from his throat. Kurt whirled around on Parsons, pounding blow after blow into him, chest, face, gut. Ellie clutched the cover around her and scrambled to the far side of the room. Jess shouted at him to shout. The man he called Tripp did, too. Nothing pierced Kurt’s rage.

He hauled the big man up by the shirt, lifting him off his feet. Ellie had never seen such strength. He hurled Parsons against the bed, then continued his assault kneeling on the man’s chest, pounding him with blow after blow. The force of the struggle, their combined weight, broke the bed. With a groan and a shriek of tortured wood, the entire thing collapsed.

Jess and Tripp grabbed Kurt from either side.

"Stop it! You’re killing him!" Jess roared.

Ellie sobbed. Kurt loved her. He truly loved her. Nothing would make him stop until she was avenged. Nothing except…

"Kurt, please," she somehow managed to say. "Please… I need you."

He froze, dropped his bloodied fists and staggered from the bed. Two strides brought him to her side. Shaking arms wrapped around her.

"I love you, Ellie. God knows, I love you." He cradled her body with her arms, rocking her gently while brushing her cheeks with his lips.

"I love you, too," she whispered.

A low whistle of surprise pulled their heads around.

"Look what we found," Jess said.

Videotapes spilled from the broken box springs. Susan stood with a female police officer and just stared off into nothing.

Tripp clapped Kurt on the shoulder. "You all right?"

Kurt nodded.

The other man gave a gentle smile. "I didn’t know she was more to you than…" He left the rest unsaid. "Kurt, why don’t you take her to the hospital? You know what has to be done. We’ll finish up here."

Kurt lifted Ellie in his arms. When she tucked her head against his shoulder, he carried her out to his car.

"What has to be done, Kurt?"

He swallowed hard. "They have to photograph you. Take evidence. Do…do a rape kit."

She shook her head. "He didn’t touch me…that way. Only Susan." She let out a small sob and clutched him tighter.

"The rest has to be done, sweetheart. Evidence."

"You, Kurt. Only you. No one else.Please ."

"Only me, Ellie. No one else. I swear it."

Chapter 15

"Are you ready, honey?" Hell, Kurt didn’t know ifhe was ready. How could he ask Ellie that? At least they’d been given the private room in ER to take the photographs of her injuries.

"Yes."

Her voice was barely above a whisper. Despite her consent, it still took her awhile to open her hospital gown. When she did, a new wave of rage washed over Kurt. He did his best to put a lid on it, for her sake. She didn’t need anger right now. She needed understanding and support. He steadied his shaking hands as best he could, then lifted the digital camera he’d retrieved from the NCIS office.

"We’ll start from the top." He gave her what he thought was a reassuring smile.

She nodded and tilted her head to one side. "He held a knife to my throat. I hit a bump in the road and it cut me." She shifted slightly on the paper-covered examining table to give him a better view.

Kurt saw a trickle of dried blood and zoomed the focus in on the area.Press the button. Done. Take pictures of the dark, finger bruises around her upper arm.Press the button. Done. That was the easy part. The livid bite marks covering her breasts and stomach weren’t.

"Can I at least hide my nipples before you take a picture?" Her chin quivered, tears pooled in her wide eyes. The pupils were so dilated from fear and shock that the gray color was just a thin rim around the outside.

Kurt longed to tell her she didn’t have to be brave, that she could fall apart. But Ellie was a proud woman. She wanted to maintain her dignity and he wouldn’t take that from her.

"Of course, sweetheart."

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she pressed her fingers over the peaks of her breasts. Kurt snapped the pictures as quickly as possible. That bastard Parsons had broken skin—like he wanted to take a chunk out of her.

Kurt felt ill. Nowhe wanted to cry. Instead, he made a big show of concentrating on adjusting nonexistent camera settings so Ellie wouldn’t see his acute distress. When he was sure he was in control once more, he moved to the bites on her stomach, then to the various bruises and scrapes marring her torso, arms, legs, and face.

"Anything else?"

Ellie gave a quick nod, took a deep, steadying breath, closed her eyes and slowly parted her legs. Kurt froze. He wanted to throw up. He tore his gaze from the bites dotting her inner thighs. A single tear rolled down her cheek. He caught it on the tip of his finger, and held her in his arms.

"It’s okay, honey. It’s all over with."

She nodded and gently pulled away. "Just please finish so they can treat me and I can go home."

"And take a nice long soak in the tub?"

Ellie forced a smile that didn’t quite make her eyes. "Sure. Sounds heavenly." A leaden response.

She tucked the hospital gown over her most intimate area and let him photograph. As he did so, one question kept nagging Kurt. He had no choice.

"I’ll make sure the nurse does a rape kit."

"I told you he didn’t rape me. Why would I lie about something like that when it would affect us so? Kurt"—she wrapped her fingers over his arm—"I’d never lie to you about anything."

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. "I’m sorry. I’m just—"

"My hero? My knight in shining armor? Youdid save the princess, you know." Another tear spilled down her cheek.

He wiped it away with a brush of his thumb. "Always. Forever."

Ellie grabbed his wrist and held on hard. "Who is he, Kurt? Why me?"

His released a long sigh. "Susan was blackmailing Lieutenant Lee Parsons over tapes filmed while they were having sex. Parsons was afraid his adulterous affair would surface, ruining his marriage as well as his military career. He came to see us about his options. When we started to investigate, he started following me. I think he wanted to use NCIS to flush out the blackmailer so he could get the tapes back himself."

"And Parsons thought I was Susan."

"Yes, and refused to listen to reason."

"Obviously."

He dropped a kiss to her forehead. "I’ll let the doctor in now. While she’s checking you over, I want to go upstairs and see how Vic is doing. Will you be all right while I’m gone?"

She nodded. "I hope Vic’s going to be all right." She touched his arm hesitantly. "I could also use some clothes to go home in. I presume I’ll also have to make a statement of some kind?"

Kurt nodded. "I’ll check on Vic, then run home real fast. Your statement can wait until tomorrow." He couldn’t handle hearing a detailed account of what had happened tonight. Reliving Ellie’s horror, and his own guilt at having put her in danger, was too much.

After giving her another gentle kiss on the cheek, Kurt slipped from the small room. Medical personnel swarmed all over the ER. Jess paced near the check-in counter. Military police hovered around the curtained examining areas, obviously guarding Parsons and Susan. His cousin was nowhere to be seen.

Probably tying up loose ends at the scene.

Jess motioned Kurt to the adjacent waiting area. Once there, he delivered a no-nonsense stare. "You realize you could be facing disciplinary action for what you did tonight. You could’ve killed him."

"I know," Kurt replied. "And I know I got carried away. I don’t care. Ellie ismy woman. No one lays a hand on my woman." A burst of adrenaline shot through his body. Kurt knew he’d attack Parsons all over again, given the chance.

Jess merely shook his head. "Is Ellie all right?"

"Barely. And the others?"

"Parsons is coherent and blubbering like a baby. His command’s been notified. They’ve probably told the wife what went on tonight. His career is over. Charges will be drafted against him by daybreak. It doesn’t look like you broke any of his bones, although he’s banged up pretty bad. Your fists have got to be hurting after all that."

Kurt stared down. Jess was right, his knuckles were scuffed, turning a dark reddish-purple from pounding Parsons’ solid frame. They hurt. He hadn’t noticed until now. His sole focus was Ellie.

"And Susan?"

"Still in major shock. Hasn’t said a word. Just stares ahead."

"Is it an act? Sheis in a lot a trouble right now."

"If it’s an act, she can’t hold it forever. Your cousin’s at the crime scene helping us log in all the evidence. Now that these two are in the MP’s capable hands, we need to get back there ourselves."

"I have to stay with Ellie."

"Youhave to do your job, Kurt. If you two are going to be together, Ellie must understand that sometimes…often…your job comes first. She needs to grasp the dangers involved. If she can’t accept it, the relationship will never work."

How could Ellie understand when he himself was having such a hard time of it?

Jess sighed and looked away. "I’m going to check on Vic then see how Helen’s doing. I called Vera. She and Ellie seem to get along well. She’ll bring over some clothes, take Ellie home, and stay with her until you’ve finished at the crime scene."

A frown pulled Kurt’s eyebrows together. "I’d rather take her out to stay with Claudia…"

Jess put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder. "I understand how you feel. And there’s no doubt Zach and Claudia Taylor would wrap Ellie in comfort. But now is not the time to thrust her into the midst of strangers. Even if those strangers are your best friends. I’ll be back in ten."

Kurt watched the older man walk away, knew he was right, and hated it. He returned to ER and gave Ellie the news.

Her voice was calm. "Okay. I’ll see you when you’re done."

No tears. No hysterics. No pleading. No accusations of desertion. Kurt’s heart swelled with love. He was almost through the door when she called him back.

"What, honey?" He returned to her side and tenderly brushed one errant wave of dark brown hair away from her pale face.

Ellie curled her fingers in his shirt, pulled him to her, and kissed him gently on the lips. Then she butted her forehead to his. "Be safe. And remember, I love you."

And I’m supposed to go back to work now?"I love you, too. And don’t worry, someone will go over to the Lost Oasis and drive your little bug back to your place."

"That’s the least of my concerns."

Kurt didn’t ask what her biggest concern was. He knew…it was getting this all behind them. She might not have been raped, but the physical assault would leave emotional scars for a long time to come.

He passed Vera on his way out. She’d brought an armful of her own clothes for Ellie—long, silky dresses that wouldn’t irritate wounds or bind sore muscles.

She touched his cheek lightly with her warm hand. "Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of your lady for you." He nodded, but her reassurance and final pat to his arm didn’t ease his guilty conscience.

***

Ellie tugged her hospital gown closed once the nurse finished dabbing antiseptic on the last of her wounds. Other than the tetanus shot, she could have tended her own injuries. But she was evidence and evidence had to be catalogued. It made her feel like a piece of meat, no matter how gentle Kurt had tried to be. But all things considered, she would hate to have endured what Susan had.

"How’s Petty Officer Bolotnik?" she asked.

The nurse tossed the cotton swab into the trash. "Still in shock apparently. She hasn’t said a word. Just stares off into space. They’re talking about transferring her down to Balboa to the psychiatric ward."

"I suppose that’s one way to get out of being court-martialed." Ellie couldn’t believe she’d spoken her thoughts out loud. More surprising was that she didn’t care.

"What about the others? Vic Brownell and the man who did all this—Parsons."

"Agent Brownell is upstairs and in stable condition despite the severity of his injuries. Lieutenant Parsons was treated and taken into custody. I doubt he’ll be bothering anyone again."

"May I see Petty Officer Bolotnik?"

For the first time since she’d started treating Ellie, the nurse really looked at her. "I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. We have her in the check-in area. It was the only private room left. I’ll just leave you to put on the clothes your friend brought while I get those prescriptions for you."

Ellie waited until the woman left, then slipped on the dark green velour dress Vera had delivered. It cradled her in warmth and comfort. Almost as good as being in Kurt’s arms.Almost.

She’d struggled with herself when he’d told her he had to go to work. One part of her wanted the opportunity to fall apart in privacy; the other part wanted to hold him close and never let him go. It was the torment in his eyes that let her release him without a murmur of dissent. He couldn’t worry about her. He had to know it was all right. He wouldn’t go unless he knew she truly didn’t mind. A small smile curved the corner of her bruised mouth, despite her turbulent emotions.

Who wouldn’t love a guy like that?

After slipping her feet into fleece-lined moccasins, Ellie shuffled to the front room. Her feet were sliced from the mad race down the road. It hurt to walk. Hell, her whole body was starting to hurt. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for Susan’s underhanded scheming.

She shoved open the heavy check-in area door, ready to give Susan a piece of her mind. The sight of her former friend sitting there, blue eyes wide and unblinking changed her mind. Ellie left the door open and walked to her side.

"Susan?" The woman flinched when Ellie touched her shoulder. "It’s okay. You’re safe." She smoothed back a dirty lock of Susan’s short blonde hair. "Why? Why would you do such a thing? Surely you knew you’d get caught someday. You had to know you’d run into a man who’d want to get even."

But any answer remained locked in Susan’s troubled mind.

Ellie sighed. "I’m sure someone will call your parents soon. You know your mom will be here as soon as she can."

"Mama?"

"Yes." Ellie nodded, but Susan did not see.

"Mama?" She paused and repeated the word over and over again in a distant, plaintive voice.

Fighting tears, Ellie slipped away. She signed for her prescription of valium. That, Motrin, and bacitracin were what she had to get her through this. It would take a hell of a lot more for Susan.

Vera rose from her chair when Ellie entered the ER lobby. A gentle arm looped around her shoulders. "Ready to go home?"

"More than ready." She longed to wash the feel of him, the scent of him from her body. But when asked, the nurse advised that the antiseptic needed to stay on a good twelve hours, or the risk of infection would be high. The thought of an infection from the germs in Parsons’ mouth made her skin crawl. She’d leave the antiseptic on as long as it took.

Ellie rattled the bottle of valium in its white pharmacy bag.

Sleep. Sweet, dreamless sleep.

***

Tripp barely spared them a glance when Kurt and Jess returned to Susan’s house. He was surrounded by piles of video cassettes and binders filled with documentation.

"Glad you two made it back. There must be at least a hundred tapes here. And look at all her notes and ledgers. It’s going to take a while to sort them all out."

Kurt started his search from the opposite end of the box springs. Each video tape was dated with the last name and social security number of what he presumed was her partner listed on it in neat black print.

Tripp looked up from a pile of papers and ran a hand through his thick thatch of dark hair. "I don’t know how she managed to get this level of detail about her sexual partners." He gestured to the handful of documents in his hand. Each one was a meticulous spreadsheet describing various men and included information from their private military files.

"Not hard," Kurt answered. "Susan worked Sundays at the Naval Hospital. She made sure she had access to everyone’s medical records."

Jess nodded and picked up the storyline. "Kurt and I discussed this in the car, and we theorize Susan would target a Marine or sailor at the Lost Oasis then entice that man into having sex. Whether she used alcohol or drugs to cloud their good sense, we’ll never know." He shrugged. "She’d have sex with them, tape the encounter, then get detailed information on them through their military hospital records. Marriage status, command, whatever she needed to put the squeeze on them and their pocket book."

Tripp shook his head in disbelief, then looked up at Kurt. "How’s Ellie?"

"Badly shaken, but holding up."

"She’s a beautiful woman," Tripp said.

"Yeah, I saw you eyeballing her at the bar. Don’t do it again." Kurt gave his best tough guy scowl.

His cousin chuckled and they settled down to work. The tapes were just the start. Photographs, file cabinets filled with information on her victims, payments owed and paid, and a bulletin board where she tracked the progress on her latest targets. It was a regular home business.

Four hours later, back at NCIS with McDonald’s bags scattered over Kurt’s desk, they were finally able to evaluate the evening’s events.

Jess finished off the remains of a cup of hot coffee, then leaned back and rubbed his reddened eyes. "So what’s the connection between Bolotnik and Forton? Why did Parsons take Ellie to Forton’s hidey-house?"

"Maybe because he knew Ellie and Forton were friends, so he thought the tapes were there," Kurt said through a mouthful of Egg McMuffin. "Susan had a tape with Forton’s name on it. Pictures, too. Apparently, they were more than just friends or lovers."

Jess waved the suggestion away. "Come on, Kurt. Forton had nothing Susan wanted. He wasn’t married. He was in debt up to his neck. He’d been busted down to PFC. What could he have had that she wanted, or better yet, what could she have held over his head as blackmail material?"

"Jail." Tripp kicked his big feet up on the edge of the desk. "She must’ve found out about his involvement with the ketamine. He knew if he got caught trafficking he’d go to jail and probably do a lot of time in the federal penitentiary if he was dealing drugs on the base." He popped the last corner of his hash browns into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. "The sex tape with him in it is the first one, according to the date. Maybe she caught him with the goods at that time and was blackmailing him ever since."

Kurt thought a moment. "Perhaps his price to pay was to provide Susan with a hideaway for her to do the men."

Tripp nodded his head. "That would work for me."

Everything was beginning to make sense. The house was rented in Forton’s name. No one could track it to her. She’d go in, do her stuff, then be gone, blackmail tape in hand. Still she took a big risk. If anyone had recognized her beneath the disguise, they wouldn’t have had much trouble tracking down her real residence—like Parsons thought he did with Ellie.

He leaned back, mirroring his cousin’s position. "I bet when we go back to Forton’s place, we’ll find hidden video equipment all over that bedroom."

Tripp grinned. "If you’re right, it’s either motion or light activated. And I’ll bet there’s a lot more on those tapes than her and her partners. What a little gold mine for her if she managed to catch Forton’s drug buddies in the act of mixing drugs and sex."

Kurt finished off his coffee then crumpled the styrofoam in one hand. "Could be Forton’s BEQ room was ransacked not for the ketamine, but the tapes."

"Or both." Jess pushed himself to his feet. "I’m getting too old for these all-nighters. Let’s get back to Forton’s, seize any electronic equipment for evidence, then get back here. We’ve still got a couple thousand hours of video to watch."

***

Ellie surfaced from a hard sleep. Every muscle in her body protested. If she didn’t have to pee so badly, she’d tuck her head under the covers and stay there.

She forced open one eyelid. Daylight greeted her. Then she glanced at the bedside clock and groaned.

"Good God, four o’clock in the afternoon! Crummy valium."

The house could have caught fire and she would never have known it. The likelihood of Hades being in the midst of a kitty fit over lack of food was one hundred percent.

Her head throbbed and her mouth was as dry as the desert outside her window.Stupid pills. Ellie didn’t know how her mother could take the damn things and still walk around coherently. Maybe that was her problem.

Ellie snatched the plastic bottle from her night stand, stumbled to the bathroom, and flushed the rest of the pills down the toilet. After taking care of her own needs, running a brush over her teeth, splashing cold water on her face, and putting in her new contacts, she made her way downstairs. Each step was pretty close to agony. Her feet were cut from her barefoot attempt at freedom and her thighs rubbed the abrasions where Parsons had bitten her.

One thing was certain, she could never nip Kurt during sex again. No matter how sensuous it once may have been, not it would always be a reminder of what Parsons did.

Daylight flooded her living room. Hades regarded her sleepily from his perch on the window seat. Obviously, he wasn’t too concerned about his stomach. Then she saw why.

"Vera." Ellie tightened her robe around her. "What in the world are you still doing here?"

Her friend peered over the tops of her glasses. Smiling, she set them down and lay her copy ofThe Phantom Tollbooth aside. "Standing by in case you needed something. I told Kurt I would."

"But what about work? Who’s watching the book store?" Wincing, Ellie picked her way down the stairs, then over to the couch.

"Emma came back from her vacation two days ago, remember?"

Ellie sank into the cushions. It seemed a lifetime since Vera had told her that. Was it really less than a week ago? A week ago she’d longed to make a change in her life. Since that time she’d dealt with the death of one friend and the betrayal of another, faced danger head-on, and fallen hopelessly in love. It seemed impossible.

"But it’s still money you aren’t earning. I don’t like—"

"Pish posh." Vera dismissed her concerns with a flick of her long fingers and a laugh. "I’m happy to do it. Hades and I bonded, of course. I think he instinctively knows I’m a cat person. And I was able to catch your many phone calls before the infernal ringer woke you. I’m becoming quite the professional assistant, I think." Vera gave one of her cherubic grins, and tilted her chin toward the folded afghan on the end of the couch.

Ringer?She hadn’t heard a sound. Ellie stretched her legs out and tossed the fluffy afghan over them. "Who called?"

"Your father, wondering if you’ll be down on Saturday night or Sunday for Christmas. Your mother, wondering if you plan to visit her on Christmas."

"You didn’t tell them what happened, did you?" She leaned forward tensely.

Earrings tinkled as Vera shook her head. "Heavens no. I just told them you had a little touch of the flu."

"Anyone else call?"

"Kurt…three times." She held up an equal number of fingers. "To see how you were. His last call was minutes ago. He’s bringing dinner over. He seems very devoted to you. I’d say you’d caught yourself a good one there, Ellie."

No arguing there. It was a shame she and Kurt didn’t notice each other sooner. When she thought of the wasted months… The doorbell’s peal burst through her thoughts.

Vera jumped up. "I’ll get it. Probably that annoying landlady again. She’s been over here twice wanting to know why you hadn’t gone to work. I told her you had the flu, too. Then she came back to offer her help. Hmph…as if."

She dashed for the door, hand-knit brown dress flowing about her, making her look like the earth goddess she was. Bernadette was lucky Vera hadn’t chewed her up into little pieces and spit her out as fertilizer.

Ellie laughed to herself as she plumped up the pillows behind her back. They could use a fire tonight. Maybe when Kurt got here he could…

Vera touched her shoulder. Ellie flinched. Fear raced her heart—a legacy from Parsons.

"I’m sorry, dear. There’s a Mrs. Bolotnik here to see you. She says she’s Susan’s mother. Stay or go?"

Ellie paused a moment and thought. "Stay." Although for the life of her Ellie didn’t know why the woman

would seek her out.

"I’ll show her in and make us all a pot of tea." Vera breezed out and was replaced moments later by Ellie’s visitor.

In a flash, Ellie got a vision of what Susan might look like in twenty years. Mrs. Bolotnik’s blonde hair had long since faded to a silvery gray. Crow’s feet framed her eyes; laugh lines her mouth. It looked like she laughed a lot…until today. Now her eyes were puffy and blood-shot with dark circles under them. She clutched her black purse strap with shaking fingers. And there wasn’t a word in any of the hundreds of books lining Ellie’s shelves that could be used to ease her pain.

"I know you must be surprised to see me," Mrs. Bolotnik said as she took the chair across from Ellie. "My husband and I arrived up here from Mission Valley two hours ago and have spent a good deal of that time listening to the charges against our daughter. I felt I owed you an apology. I’m so sorry she dragged you into all of this."

Ellie’s heart went out to the woman. "I appreciate your consideration, Mrs. Bolotnik, but this isn’t your fault." They all knew who was to blame.

The swollen face crumpled as the woman fumbled in her purse for a tissue. Ellie handed her a box from the end table.

"Thank you," she muttered, and blotted away her tears. "In a way itis my fault. I think you need to know the whole story." She pulled in a deep breath. "Susan was fourteen when it happened. She wanted to stay out late for the high school football game. I should’ve said no." Her face twisted with regret. "She begged and pleaded. Her father and I agreed. What harm could it do? We’d drop her off, pick her up after the game. Only…"

A new rash of tears appeared. Just as quickly, she wiped them away. "They found her in a ravine the next morning. Left like garbage by the side of the highway. She’d been gang raped by the very football players she so idolized."

This time Ellie was truly at a loss for words. All she could do was stare and try to absorb this shocking news.

Mrs. Bolotnik pulled in a deep breath and tore at the tissue in her hand. "She was in much the same state as she’s in now. Wouldn’t even let her daddy near her. It broke his heart. They were always so close. She never was able to go back to school. We hired tutors and psychiatrists. Took years for her to recover, but she did." Her head dropped and she tore another tissue from the box. "At least we thought she did."

Ellie leaned forward and covered the shaking hand with her own. "You did all you could do. You did your best. What happened to Susan wasn’t your fault."

She gave a sad little laugh. "Sometimes best isn’t good enough, is it?" She gave Ellie’s fingers a gentle squeeze and stood. "I just wanted to apologize in person. Although I had to argue long and hard with that Agent Duncan to get him to agree. Agent Alderman finally convinced him it wouldn’t hurt."

"I’m glad you did. I appreciate it."

"I’ll see myself out. Again, I’m very sorry for everything Susan’s done."

Mrs. Bolotnik passed Kurt in the doorway. The two exchanged a look, then a nod, before going their separate ways. Ellie expected him to make some comment about the woman’s presence. Instead, he shut the door and gave her the sweetest smile she’d ever seen. He held up a plastic bag filled with styrofoam containers.

"Carne asadanachos. Hope you’re hungry."

Ellie smiled. "Actually, I think I just might be."

"Wine?" he asked as he placed the boxes on the coffee table in front of her.

"No. That valium kicked my ass. Vera’s making tea."

"Then she’s leaving the two of you alone." Vera breezed in with a tray filled with teapot, cups, sugar, and milk, then set it beside the food.

"There’s no need to rush off," Kurt told her. "I have enough for all of us."

She patted his cheek. "No thanks, cutie. I’m leaving the lovebirds alone."

Ellie picked up one container and opened the lid. "Vera, I’m on convalescent leave, then regular leave for Christmas. I’ll stop in tomorrow afternoon at the bookstore and help you guys out."

"If you’re up to it, then that’s fine. See you then, sweetie." Vera paused long enough to give Hades a quick scratch behind the ears, then was gone.

Kurt sat at the opposite end of the couch and looked soberly at Ellie. "I don’t think I like the idea of you going out alone."

"I can’t stay cooped up in here or I’ll go nuts. Besides, I won’t be alone. I’ll be at the bookstore. Probably safer there than here."

He conceded the point with a nod.

Ellie cocked her head to one side. "Thank you for not arguing with me over it."

Kurt grabbed his container. "If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that there’s no talking you out of something once you’ve got your mind set on it."

That was probably an issue worth re-visiting. Her decision to go undercover wasn’t among her smartest.

"How’s Vic?"

He laughed lightly. "Awake. In pain. Groggy. And reeling over the fact he’s going to be a daddy."

Good news at last. "That’s wonderful. And your day?"

"Rough."

End of story. Ellie didn’t badger him for details. There were aspects of his job that had to remain a secret. If there was something he wanted to share and could, he would, all in his own good time.

Kurt built a fire and they ate the tender beef in comfortable silence, just like they were an old couple set and easy in their ways. Once finished, he refreshed her tea, poured himself a glass of wine, then pulled her feet onto his lap and gently massaged them. Exhaustion lined his face and weighed down his shoulders, yet she knew he was intent upon caring for her. She pulled her feet off his knees.

"I’ve slept all day and I’m still worn out. You haven’t slept at all, so you’ve got to be exhausted."

"Pretty close to it," he agreed.

"Why don’t we fill the tub with a hot bubble bath and wash the day away?"

"Now that sounds about as close to heaven as a man could get."

Arm in arm they helped each other upstairs. Kurt stripped to his shorts and stretched out on her bed while Ellie filled the tub, and added her favorite jojoba scented bubble bath. When she returned, he was sound asleep.

My hero.

Smiling, she tossed a blanket over him, and dropped a kiss to his dark blond hair. He smelled of sandalwood and vanilla. A glimpse of the future flashed before her. Doing this for their children.

The image of him jumping to her defense, pounding blow after blow into the maniacal Parsons was next. Ellie wrapped her arms around herself and thought about Kurt’s valor, his courage. He loved her. Loved her enough to risk his job trying to save her life. Loved her enough to kill an evil man for her. If their emotions were that intense after one week, what would they be like in years to come?

Ellie shuffled painfully to her sea of bubbles. Slipping beneath the fragrant water did nothing to wash away the fear and uncertainty that suddenly clung to her. Something this intense, this hot couldn’t last, couldn’t be real. Could it?

***

Kurt rubbed at his tired eyes. He never thought he’d see the day when he’d say he’d had too much porn. This was it. If he had to watch Susan Bolotnik have sex with another person today, he’d scratch his eyes out. He was glad for the break the Christmas holiday would give him.

Tripp tossed aside the tape they’d been watching. "I’m beginning to think we should start from the end and work our way back. Something clued her into the fact she was being watched. Why else would she set Ellie up?"

Jess stretched to his feet. "You can look then. I’ve got to get away from this for awhile. Besides, my wife has her annual Christmas party at the bookstore tonight. I’m toast if I don’t show up. Tripp, you’re welcome to join us."

"Nope. My family’s coming. My grandfather has a horse ranch east of here and we’re all gathering there for Christmas. If I know what’s good forme , I’d better be getting on the road." He cracked his knuckles then rolled his neck, looking toward Kurt. "Are you going to Long Beach to see your folks?"

"Yeah, I’ll leave tonight after the party. Ellie’s going to be heading to San Diego to spend Christmas with her dad and his family."

Frankly, the idea didn’t set well with Kurt. He wanted to show Ellie off to his own parents. Heck, he’d even be happy to meet hers. Well…maybe not her mother, but from what he knew of him, her dad seemed like a pretty easy-going guy.

Unfortunately, Ellie was firm in her decision. Too firm. For some reason, it seemed she grew more distant with each day that passed. Kurt knew the incident with Parsons weighed her down, but she refused to talk about it, and he didn’t know how to draw her out.

One thing he did know—he loved her more than life itself. A glance at the damage Parsons did to her, knowing what the creep had planned for her, was enough to drive him crazy. It didn’t help knowing McConnell and Clark waited in the wings to sneak back in. The two hadn’t been seen since the night Parsons took Ellie from the bar.

That situation hadn’t changed the fact someone wanted that ketamine. Whoever it was wouldn’t give up, and would still see Ellie as the only apparent link. Ellie seemed oblivious to the danger.

"Jess, I told Ellie I’d go with her to the party at the bookstore, so I’ll catch you later." He waved at his boss, then drove back to Ellie’s house to get changed for the big Book Nook Christmas fete.

***

Ellie was gone by the time Kurt got to the condo. She’d warned him as much. The party was a big event and required plenty of planning, lots of decorating, and a ton of food. Emma Alderman’s family, friends, customers, and business associates all showed up to the annual open house. Kurt knew that from past years. But he’d never given much thought to the work involved. He just ate the food, accepted the hospitality, and moved on.

Seeing the joy on Ellie’s face when he arrived at the party made their separation all the sweeter. It was the first sign of happiness he’d seen since her abduction. She greeted him with a smile, a hug, and a kiss that let the world know they were a couple.

Ellie looked smashing in a tuxedo-style suit with black satin cuffs. The charcoal gray color looked

wonderful with her eyes, drawing attention to their luminous beauty. The plunging neckline showed tantalizing hints of her lovely breasts while still covering the fading marks of Parsons’ brutality. Her lovely hair was unbound, loose and curling down to the middle of her back.

In that instant, he longed to bury his fingers deep inside the mass of dark waves, bring them to his face, and breathe in her sweet perfume. Instead, he just put all the love and admiration he felt for her in his eyes and let her see the intensity of his feelings.

Kurt curled his arm around Ellie’s waist and pulled her into one of the many reading nooks scattered throughout the store.

"Are you going to ravish me and ruin my makeup, Mr. Duncan?" she asked with a giggle.

Kurt laughed. This was more like it. Maybe Parsons and his demons were finally behind them. "If you keep tempting me, Miss Severance, I just might." He drew her Christmas present out of his pocket. "We’re both leaving to be with our families tonight. Now I know we agreed we’d open these when we got back, but I’d really like to see this necklace around your neck tonight."

"Oh, Kurt." She flashed him a smile, tore open the silver wrapping paper, then pulled her hair aside for him to drape the omega necklace around her neck and fasten the clasp. She touched the gold and platinum slide. "It’s beautiful. Thank you so very much."

"You’re welcome." He dropped a kiss to her bare shoulder. "And after Christmas I’d like to go back and pick out an engagement ring to go with it."

Ellie’s smile faded. Kurt prayed it was surprise. Clasping her shoulders in a gentle hold, he turned her around to face him.

"I want to marry you, Ellie. I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I love you."

She cupped his cheeks between her hands. "And I love you. But how can we trust this? How can we know it’s real? It’s so hot. It’s so powerful. It’s so—"

"Great. It’s love, sweetheart."

"It could be an illusion, too, Kurt. Just like the one I hid behind. The ugly duckling. The woman who—"

"Stop. Just stop."

She dropped her head.

He lifted her chin with the gentle tips of his fingers. "I love you. That’s no illusion. I know what my heart feels. And that’s my heart, not my—"

"I need time, Kurt. Just give me some time."

She slipped away through the store. Kurt followed in time to see her duck out the back door. It was all he could do to keep from going after her.

Chapter 16

Somehow Ellie made the three-hour trip to San Diego without crying. But now that she’d pulled up in the driveway of her father and stepmom’s home, she wanted to collapse into the safety of their arms like a five-year-old and sob. She turned off the engine and listened to it tick in the evening twilight while she tried to collect her wits. Through the front windows she could see the lights from their Christmas tree.

The warmth ahead beckoned.

God, how she loved this house, this refuge. After the divorce, she never missed a summer or a Christmas with her father. Excitement over the visits grated on her mother’s nerves. She made her husband’s life miserable during their marriage and seemed determined to do so after it as well. But Nathan Severance was made of stronger stuff. Nothing would keep him from his daughter.

Ellie remembered the twinge of fear when he told her he was going to remarry. She was eighteen at the time, an adult, and she still feared losing her daddy. Then she met Dee—bright, open, happy, lovable, no-nonsense Dee. The woman wasted no time adding Ellie as her fourth grown child.

"Five, if I count your father."

The memory brought a smile to Ellie’s quivering lips. Dee wrapped Ellie in unconditional love, something her own mother could or would never do. Just as she did her own daughters, Dee gifted Ellie frequently with clothes to fit Ellie’s style and the occasional out of the ordinary dress she was sure Ellie would love. She never pushed, was just there. It was going to break her heart to hear what Ellie had been through these last few days.

But she had to tell them. Keeping quiet just wouldn’t feel right. It would be an omission in a relationship that was based entirely on love and open honesty. Ellie’s entire life had shifted, and she had to talk to someone—someone who loved her, someone who wouldn’t judge her. But she certainly couldn’t burst into tears the second she walked into their living room. Of course, her makeup barely covered the bruises on her face. Explanations might have a way of pouring out of her faster than she could handle.

Ellie steeled her resolve and pushed open the car door. At least Dee’s three children wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. That would give them some private time. She slung her overnight satchel over one shoulder, grabbed the bag of Christmas presents with her other hand, and started up the walk.

The front door swung open. "Nathan, guess who’s here?" Dee shouted back into the house, then hurried forward to wrap a tight hug around Ellie. "My goodness! Look who’s wearing contact lenses. I like it. Sweetie, it’s so good to see you. We’ve really missed you these past months. How are things up in the high desert? Still cold and windy?"

Ellie winced, and turned it into a smile at the last second. Dee’s hugs were great—when you weren’t

bruised and hurt. "Among other things."

Dee linked her arm through hers and towed Ellie toward the house. "Now those other things wouldn’t happen to be a certain young man in your life, would they?"

"How did—"

"Your mother called. Several times." Dee gave a light laugh as she shook her head. "Claimed we California hippie people had corrupted your morals. That was last week. Something about a wig, hoochy mama clothes, and being thrown out of your condo because of it."

Bernadette again. Well, at least with Ellie movingthat relationship was over with. Neither Bernadette nor her mother would have reason to communicate.

"Then Mona called a few days after that, raging about a man named Kurt who had thenerve to answer your phone. She claimed we had instilled loose morals in you. That you were—now let me get this right—fornicating all over the place."

"Yes, yes. Public nudity. Cats and dogs, living together…"

Dee hooted with laughter. "Something like that." She squeezed Ellie’s arm. "And the gentleman responsible for leading you down the path to ruin called not five minutes ago."

Ellie’s head snapped up. "Kurt called here?"

Her stepmother nodded. "Yep. Wanted to know if you’d arrived safely. Said he’d appreciate a phone call once you did."

Nowthat made her tear up. Ellie quickly looked away. "What else did he say?" She concentrated on keeping her voice from breaking. The tears were so close.

"Nothing. Just asked that you let him know. Is there something else he should’ve said?"

They stepped across the threshold into a brightly lit living room that looked like Christmas central. Her father perched atop a stepladder near the arched entry to the kitchen trying to adjust a lighted garland to his satisfaction. He’d be perfecting his decorations until Christmas.

"Hey, Daddy."

Turning, he flashed her a broad smile. It disappeared immediately. "Good God, Cookie, what happened to your face?"

Ellie reached for the bruise. He scrambled down the ladder.

Dee peered around to look at her and gasped. "Did Kurt do that? What kind of man—"

"Did that son of a bitch hit you?" Her father covered the distance between them in half a heartbeat. "Where the hell’s the phone? I’ll star 69 his ass and give him a piece of my mind! Then I’m going to find him and kill him!"

Ellie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She caught her father’s sleeve before he could move any further. "No, no. Calm down. Both of you. Kurt didn’t do this. He saved me…"

That was all she could manage. Days of forcing herself to be strong finally caught up with her. She wrapped herself in her father’s arms and gave up, let the pain and fear come flooding out. He guided her to the couch and cradled her on his lap just like he had when she was a little girl, soothing her tangle of hair, shushing her sobs with gentle words of love while Dee passed the tissues.

When she was finally spent, Dee brewed cups of chamomile tea and Ellie told them everything. They listened without interruption and embraced her in the love and warmth she treasured.

Dee slipped her hand over Ellie’s when she finally finished. "You’d better give that young man a phone call. I’m sure he’s worried sick by now. It’s been well over an hour since you got here."

Ellie nodded. At least she was calmer now, more in control, even though her feelings still danced on the surface. Kurt picked up on the first ring.

"I’m here."

"You’ve been crying."

She cast her gaze to the ceiling. Two words and he’d already picked up on it. "I guess that’s why you’re an investigator."

He didn’t laugh. "I was starting to get worried."

"I’m sorry. I was—"

"Crying. I know. I don’t blame you. You’ve been through a lot this week. Being strong. Seeing your dad and Dee—"

"Please, Kurt." If he kept on being sympathetic, he’d have her bawling again.

"I just want you to know you can lean on me, too. You don’t have to be the—"

"The martyr?"

His sigh echoed over the line. "I love you, Ellie."

"I love you, too." She just wasn’t sure she trusted the feeling. "I’ll see you after Christmas."

"It’s going to be the longest three days of my life."

Hers, too.

"Oh, Ellie, you’re in love!" Dee exclaimed as Ellie hung up the phone.

"Yes…but how do I know it’s real?"

"What? Well, it won’t be if you keep second-guessing yourself, Cookie," her father replied. "Sometimes you just have to accept love for what it is."

She glanced up to find her father and Dee smiling at each other. Simultaneously, they clasped each other’s hands. Ellie smiled. If anyone would know, they would.

***

Kurt let the cell phone dangle from his fingers, and slumped back into his armchair. She was crying and he wasn’t there for her. It bothered him. More so when he realized how she held back all week long only to unburden herself on her family. Why didn’t she lean on him? What had he done wrong?

"Bad phone call?"

He looked up at his little sister. Fresh out of college and ready to take on the world, CeCe had assigned herself as family counselor. She’d even taken to wearing her long blonde hair in a French twist and called herself Cecelia at work—claimed it made her seem older, more responsible.

"No, not really." Ellie still said she loved him. Hope still existed.

CeCe sat on the arm of the chair opposite of him. "You sure don’t look like it. Come on. Talk to me. If I were in the dumps, you’d be there for me. Why can’t I do the same for you?"

The same question he asked himself of Ellie. Why did she shut him out? Before he realized it, Kurt spilled everything he felt about Ellie, everything he’d experienced since the day he first met her. When he finished, he was lonelier than ever for her company, her smile, her…aura.

CeCe squatted down in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. "Why are you afraid of giving her the time she needs? A lot’s happened to her this last week. Plus, maybe she’s right. Maybe the two of you were caught up in the heat of the moment. In the face of life-threatening situations, a person’s natural reaction is to reaffirm life. Sex…marriage…even commitment is one way to do that."

"So you’re saying it’s a mistake."

"No. I’m saying if you love her, you’ll do two things. First, give her the time and space she asks for. And, second, never give her a reason to doubt you love her. If it’s the real thing, it’ll all work out."

Kurt eased into a more relaxed position. "So when did you get to be so good at relationships?" He grinned at her.

"Oh, I’ve always been sensible," she assured him. "You’ve just never been smart enough to take my good advice."

With an impish wave, she left him to his thoughts. Kurt still didn’t feel any better. His parents, sister, brother, and other arriving family members chatted all around him. Kurt never heard a single word. The only person he wanted to talk to was Ellie and he was determined not to call her again.

Sleep? Impossible. Not when he ached to have her sweet body tucked safely in his arms. Not when the very thought of her sent fire racing through his veins. Not when he was ready to crawl through hot lava just to let her know they’d be together forever. So all night he tossed and turned in his old twin bed, then

gave up, and pulled on some sweat pants and a T-shirt.

Muttering a curse, he stomped into the kitchen, started a strong pot of coffee, and whipped up homemade waffles and bacon. His nephews, ages three and five, were the first to join him, the first to take his mind off his worries. Caring for the boys, laughing with them, being Uncle Kurt lightened his mood, and gave him hope this was what the future held for him and Ellie.

"Well, I’m glad you could finally join us," his father said as he walked into the kitchen and made a beeline toward the coffee pot. "I was beginning to wonder where my cheerful son had gotten to."

"Sorry, Dad. I just have had a lot on my mind."

"Work or woman?" he asked as he filled the small cauldron he called a mug.

"Woman. Ellie. Eleanor Severance, actually."

"Hmm…" He pulled out a chair, made funny faces until the boys giggled, then helped himself to bacon.

How could his father say so much with one simple word? Kurt filled the waffle maker with batter. "Would you and Mom mind if I missed Christmas with the family? There’s something I have to take care of."

His father blew gently across his coffee, then added a careful amount of milk. "Might want to shave and shower first. Never hurts to make a good impression. Show yourself at your best."

Sound advice. If he’d done that from the very beginning, just been himself, he wouldn’t be in the predicament he was in now.

***

Ellie picked through her fruit bowl. The joy of the traditional Christmas Eve brunch at the Blue Whale Restaurant was wasted on her. Sadly, so was the company. While the rest of the family laughed and chatted away, all she could do was sit and wonder what Kurt was doing at that very moment.

Sighing, she leaned back and fingered the omega necklace at her throat. Wasn’t the future what you made of it? If she predicted doom, wouldn’t she get doom? She was letting her mother’s negativity seep into her life, questioning her instincts and the motives of others, shoving aside the chance for happiness. And wasn’t that what life was about—taking chances?

She stood abruptly, and a hush fell over the long table. Heads turned her way.

"I’m sorry, everyone. I have to go. I hate to miss Christmas with you all, but there’s something I have to take care of before it’s too late."

A chorus of good-byes followed her to the door. Ellie dug out her cell phone and punched in Kurt’s number as she strode to the car. No answer. Then she’d just have to surprise him. But Jess wasn’t home to give her Kurt’s parents address or phone number. All a call to information got her was the news that their number was unlisted.

Frustrated, she returned to her father’s house to pack. Satchel in hand, she opened the front door and had to blink twice in astonishment when she saw Kurt’s black Impala pull up in the driveway behind her red Volkswagen. She was out of the house before he could come to a full stop.

"Kurt! I was just trying to figure out how to get to you, and here you are." She tossed herself into his arms.

Laughing, he swung her up and around. "I couldn’t stay away."

"A day without you feels like—"

"Forever."

He sat her gently on the hood of his car and gave her a kiss she was sure the neighbors would talk about for years. Then another. And another. Until all Ellie wanted to do was…

She peeled away from his marauding lips. "We need to get inside."

He brushed her temple with the backs of his fingers. "If I don’t wait a minute and get myself under control, we might cause more gossip than if we stayed here smooching."

"Or make the ladies incredibly envious." She slid to her feet, making sure she brushed up tight against him. "I bet I’m going to unwrap a very nice present from Santa."

"Trying to ravish me again, my love?" He girdled her waist with his hands. "Because I’ll let you, if you want to."

She teased her fingers through his soft hair. "I thought I’d save the ravishing for our honeymoon."

His ice blue gaze caressed every inch of her face, intense, searching. His lips moved, but no words came out. Finally, with a long sigh, he tucked her close against his pounding heart.

"Ellie, promise me you’ll never hold back what you feel just for the sake of sparing me. When I learned you were upset yesterday and I wasn’t there for you… I never felt more helpless in my life. Don’t shut me out, Ellie. Let me be there for you."

She traced her thumbs along his jaw line. "Just understand that I am self-sufficient. I never want you to lose focus on your job because you’re worrying about me. I can take care of myself." She added a smile. "But it’s nice to know we can team up."

He chuckled. "I feel…a thousand different things right now. I see just as many pictures in my mind. I love you so much. Corny as it sounds, you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world. I’m going to make you the best husband… Okay, the most adequate husband I can."

That got her giggling. "I’m going to want children, Kurt." She watched his face intensely, looking for any signs of rejection or withdrawal. "I don’t want to wait much longer."Oh God, please let him want kids. Please.

He set her back against the car door. Mischief lit his eyes. "Oh, we can start working on that right away. I’m willing to work and work and work until we get it right."

She sagged with relief and joy. "Such as noble sacrifice."

"Practice makes perfect," he bowed his head humbly. When she laughed, he winked roguishly, then swung her into his arms.

"I’m going to buy you a diamond ring big enough to skate on."

She laughed. "I would be perfectly happy with matching bands, nothing more. And I bet I know where we could get a fabulous deal. I’ve got a secret contact in the jewelry world. Her name is Dee. Come on, it’s time to meet the family."

***

Kurt liked Nathan and Dee Severance the second he walked into the restaurant with Ellie. They felt like an extension of his own family. The news of the impending marriage was greeted with squeals of delight from Dee’s two daughters. Then Nathan patted the empty chair next to him, inviting Kurt to sit.

"It’s going be a while, son," the man said. "They’re talking weddings."

Ellie interjected one word. "Small."

The ladies’ spirits deflated with a collective "aw".

She held up her hands. "I’d rather put the money toward other uses."

Shewas a woman after his own heart. How the hell did he get so lucky? "But we won’t cheat you out of a big party afterward." Kurt brought her fingers to his lips.

"Ellie, dear, you realize that’s not going to make your mother very happy." Dee’s voice was soft and sympathetic.

"I’m beginning to think nothing will ever make her happy," Ellie mused. "But this is about us, not her. I refuse to permit her interference."

Nathan smirked as he leaned forward. "Oh, please, let me tell her, Cookie."

"And have her yell at you? No way." Ellie shook her head. Kurt had seen that stubborn set to her mouth before. Obviously, so had her father since he settled back in his seat.

"I’ll do it." Kurt whipped out his cell phone.

Ellie grabbed his hand. "Don’t use your minutes to call her. Use the phone she’s paying for. Mother even conveniently put her own number on speed dial for me." She slipped the phone from her purse. "Make sure the volume is up full-blast. I want everyone to hear this."

Kurt smiled. Was it possible to love this woman more each second? One push of a button, a ring, two, and Mona picked up. He could take the smart-ass approach with her and really set her off, or he could simply tell her. Kurt chose the latter route. Smart-ass hadn’t gotten him anywhere good lately.

"Ma’am, this is Kurt Duncan calling. I’m sure you remember who I am. I love your daughter and we’re getting married."

There was a sharp intake of breath. "Have you gotten her pregnant?"

So much for being polite."Not yet, ma’am, but I’m working on it."

She launched into a tirade that could be heard around the table and most probably the restaurant since a few heads turned their way. Kurt set the phone on the table and let her rant.

"Now why didn’t I ever do that?" Ellie gave a light laugh, and laced her fingers through his. "Thank you."

Kurt watched her happy gaze shift over his shoulder, then fade to a frozen look of shock. He twisted around in time to see the Bolotniks walk into the restaurant with Susan tucked between them. The hostess seated them two tables away.

"I can’t believe it," Kurt muttered. "What are the chances?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Bolotnik live nearby in Mission Valley," Ellie whispered.

"Someone you know?" her father asked.

Ellie nodded. "The woman I told you about yesterday. And her parents."

"Poor thing. Just look at her." Dee tsked. "She actually looks like she’s regressed back to childhood. Why would they let her out? Wouldn’t they want to keep her in the hospital and monitor her?"

Kurt turned his back to them. "She has a strong attachment to her mother now. Very clingy. Very needy. They probably thought it best to treat her on an outpatient basis for now."

"They’ve seen us. I should at least say hello." Ellie pushed her chair back.

Kurt jerked his head up. "Are you crazy? After what Susan did to you?"

She grabbed his arm and tugged him to his feet. "And if she hadn’t tried to set me up, you and I wouldn’t be together today. Now, come on." Her dark gray eyes pleaded. "Please, Kurt. It’s Christmas."

Try as he might, Kurt couldn’t deny her logic. They owed Susan that much. The fact she nearly got Ellie killed was another matter. Grudgingly, he let Ellie led him to the Bolotniks. The couple greeted them with ready smiles that widened when Ellie introduced Kurt as her fiancé. Susan just stared at her menu, never once acknowledging their presence. A final "Happy Holidays" and they were able to return to their table.

"She sure hates you, Ellie," Dee’s son said as they sat back down. "You should see the look she gave you the second your back was turned."

Kurt glanced over his shoulder. Susan still stared at the menu. Was the stupor just an act to avoid prosecution? She’d have to be one hell of an actress. If it was a ploy, she couldn’t keep it up forever.

In the silence that seemed to hover over their large table, Mona’s shrill voice still railed over the cell phone. Each word loud enough for them all to hear.

"…And if you think I’m going to be a party to this…this ridiculous farce, you can forget it. I do not sanction this sham marriage nor do I wish to see it take place."

"This is ridiculous," Ellie mumbled under her breath, and grabbed the phone. "I have one word for you, Mother.Grandchildren . Think real hard about that. Do you really want to burn your bridges? At least I don’thave to get married…unlikesome people."

Silence descended.

"Good-bye, Mother. I’ll send you an invitation when the arrangements are complete." She punched the

off key, slipped the phone back in her purse, and folded her hands on the table.

Nathan shook his head. "Cookie, that was just not right."

"I think I should be allowed to get a shot in every now and then."

"Yeah, but that one took me out, too." A loud burst of good-natured laughter erupted over this sheepish admission.

Kurt listened to the rowdy banter with half-attention. His sole focus was on the woman two tables away. He wanted to get a glimpse of what Dee’s son had seen. Something, anything to let him know Susan was faking. Nothing.

When he got back to work, he’d discuss it with Jess. Maybe NCIS in San Diego could dig a little deeper. As far as he was concerned, he wanted to wash his hands of anything remotely involving Susan Bolotnik.

***

It had to be a sin to be this happy. Ellie’s whole body felt like one big smile. They’d spent Christmas Eve with her family, then said their farewells and slipped up to Long Beach to spend Christmas Day with Kurt’s. She enjoyed the exuberant Duncan crowd, who mirrored her own extended family in San Diego. She looked forward to frequent visits. But what she most wanted now was just to get back to Twentynine Palms so she could be alone with the man she loved.

Their wedding was scheduled for mid-March. How could three months seem like an eternity, yet really be so close? There were a million things to do, even for a small wedding. The past few days of visiting family, combined with lack of sleep and privacy picked away at her patience. Everything seemed so overwhelming. Ellie wanted to go home and snuggle in her own bed…with Kurt, of course.

The drive home flew by in record time. She gave him a thumbs up as she turned onto hercul-de-sac . He waved back. They’d driven in tandem on the long drive home, grinning and waving at each other in the rear-view mirrors. Too bad they’d been in their separate vehicles. She pulled into the driveway and

watched Kurt park alongside the curb.

Never again.After today, they’d always be together. The thought warmed her inside and out.

Ellie eased into the garage. Her good mood vanished. Bernadette stood before her, hands on hips, eyes wide, lips puckered. Ellie barely had time to brake before the woman barreled down upon her.

"What do you intend to do about that mess?" She jerked her finger toward Ellie’s place. The kitchen door was wide open.

"Hades!" Ellie swung open the car door, barely missing Bernadette. She jerked to a halt at the kitchen door. The condo was a shambles.

"Hades…where are you?"

A pathetic meow trickled out from within the depths of the debris. Ellie picked her way around the contents of her kitchen drawers, now strewn about the floor. The cabinets were emptied, pots, pans, dishes, food lay strewn about everywhere. Then she saw her living room—heaps of books scattered everywhere with spines broken and pages ripped. Her signed copy ofD-Day had been stuffed into the fireplace and covered with ashes.

Hades’ meow drew Ellie’s attention to the cat basket on the padded window seat—the only place not ransacked. She ran to his aid. With a wail, he leapt out of the basket and into her arms. The force knocked Ellie backward.

"Good God!" Kurt gasped behind her.

"You’ll pay for any damages," Bernadette snapped from behind them. "I swear I’ll have you evicted as soon as I can file the paperwork!"

Ellie whirled around on her. "You idiot, we didn’t do this! Can’t you see we’ve been gone? Why the hell

didn’t you call the police?"

Hades hissed his agreement from the safety of her arms.

Bernadette hiked her nose to a haughty tilt. "I don’t like to interfere." With a sniff and a glare, she flounced away.

"Just look at this mess." Kurt waved his hand over the room. "Someone really searched this place high and low."

"For what?" Ellie wailed. "What do they think I have?"

Kurt stared at the window seat and its cat basket. "You know, I bet Hades dug into his cat basket and hunkered down while whoever did this searched your condo."

"Probably." Ellie had to agree since nothing had been touched there. "That’s where he goes when I’m not home and he needs to feel secure."

"Then I bet that whoever was here didn’t get a chance to look under those cushions."

"There’s nothing there." Ellie shook her head. "I dusted and rearranged them last Thursday while I was cleaning the house." A thought occurred to her. "Kurt! The seat lifts up. It’s a hinged bench with a little storage area below. I use it for Hades’ cat toys and extra collars and things. I don’t think I’ve looked inside in weeks."

Excited, Kurt hurried over to the window seat, removed Hades’ cat basket and pillows, then lifted the bench lid. "Oh…my…God."

Ellie rushed to his side and peered over his shoulder. Balanced on top of old squeaky toys and rubber balls lay freezer bags filled with packets of ketamine.

Chapter 17

Hades burrowed against the safety of Ellie’s neck. Each meow was more pathetic than the last. She didn’t blame him for being frightened. She was plenty scared herself.

"It’s all right, sweet boy. I’m home now. Everything’s going to be fine." She gave him long, soothing strokes down the back while she surveyed the damage upstairs. Petting his soft fur helped calm her, too. The place was a shambles.

Her bed lay to one side stripped of its sheets. The top of the box spring was ripped open. Everything from her dresser drawers was tossed about the room. Same thing with her closet. And the bathroom? She sighed. At least the intruder dumped the bottles and boxes into the bathtub, not onto the floor. The vanity mirror had been smashed, her glass bottle of bath salts had been thrown directly at the center. Purple crystals were everywhere, on the sink, the carpeting. The scent of lilac wafted through the room.

Damn. It was still going to take forever to clean up. And she couldn’t do a thing until Kurt’s people arrived to collect evidence.

Ellie tiptoed down the staircase. Hades’ warbles had finally slowed, but he still shook against her neck. He’d be clingy for quite some time. She counted her blessings they hadn’t hurt him.

Kurt stuffed his cell phone into the pouch at his waist and glanced her way. "Jess is on the way. So is Tripp with his people."

Ellie sat on the bottom stair step. It seemed like the only inviolate place in the room. "So this place will be swarming with NCIS and DEA agents soon."

"Local police, too. I’m sure your landlady has called them now that she has someone to blame."

"Too bad she couldn’t have done so when this happened." But that would prove her snooping, and that’s something old Bernie would never do.

Kurt sat beside her and gave Hades a scratch behind the ear. The affection earned him a healthy purr. "Just enjoy yourself now, fella, and forget about those nasty bad guys."

Kurt moved to the shoulder, then down to his paws. Ellie felt the cat relax. She knew from experience he was a breath away from flexing his paws. Unusual as it was, Hades loved to have his feet massaged.

"Should’ve given them a good whack with one of these, my furry friend. In fact…it looks like you did."

Ellie twisted around for a better look. Kurt studied what looked like strands of hair dangling from Hades’ claws, then grinned.

"I believe we might have a little DNA evidence here. Just keep him still until Jess gets here with the evidence kits."

That wasn’t a problem. Hades wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. He’d probably wind up sleeping with her for the next two weeks. That was fine with her. Thank goodness she was on leave. She’d be scared to leave him home alone and she sure couldn’t take him to work. Hell,she was afraid to stay in the house alone.

What if the intruder or intruders came back once Kurt left for work in the morning? She couldn’t very well depend on Bernadette for help. Ellie nearly laughed out loud at the irony of the situation. She’d just preached to Kurt how self-reliant she was; that he never need worry about her when he was at work. Now, all she wanted to do was cling to him, cuddle against a warm neck just like Hades was doing.

"Do you suppose they’re watching the house right now?" The thought chilled her.

He shrugged. "It’s hard to tell. If they were, it’d seem they’d be busting in right now demanding to know where Jeremy’s stash of ketamine was. Of course, they’d know I’d call for back-up right away so they might not risk it. What I don’t understand is why they think you’ve got it. Unless everything’s still all twisted up in that disguise of Susan’s."

Ellie frowned. So many different things all linked together. If only… She sucked in a breath. "You know, Jeremy was alone for a long time in this condo the night Susan came over and got me all dressed up in her wig and clothing. A couple of days later he called, frantic to come over. I decided to blow him off because I was waiting for your phone call. The next morning I found him."

"And someone was watching us through the window that night," he said, more to himself than to her.

Someone who knew the ketamine was here. But only one other person had been with them that night—Susan. Unless Jeremy, under duress of the beating, divulged the location.

They heard cars drive up outside. Kurt picked his way over the debris field and opened the front door. In minutes the place was swarming with agents and police officers. Hades made himself as small as possible and shook with fright at the rush of people. Ellie stayed where she was—out of the way, wincing with every shake of fingerprint dust over her possessions. It was going to take longer than forever to clean up the mess.

Jess sat down on the stair behind her. "I understand we have a brave guard-cat here. Now just let me see those claws, big guy, and we’ll be all set."

The soft tone soothed Hades enough he let Jess pick the hairs from his claws with tweezers and put them into an evidence baggie. "Looks like we’ve got a little skin here, too. Whoever this cat smacked is going to have some gouges to show for it."

Hades allowed him to scrape that evidence from his claws and was rewarded with more admiration. Jess tucked the packets away in what looked like a large tackle box and moved to the next task.

The police questioned Ellie, then Bernadette. Naturally, the woman had nothing of substance to add, other than a time the break-in occurred—early that morning.

When a tall man with tan complexion and midnight blue eyes entered wearing a black coat with the DEA logo on the back, Ellie stared hard. He was also present when she was rescued from Parsons. Kurt had called him Tripp.

"You were here last week asking about the condo. You’re the DEA liaison?"

He smiled and shook her hand. "I have the dubious pleasure of being Kurt’s cousin. Jeffrey Allen Duncan III at your service, ma’am. Most people call me Jeff—except for Kurt. Guess I’ll always be Tripp to him. Kurt tagged me with the nickname when we were kids playing cowboys. You’re welcome to call me whichever makes you most comfortable. The name’s a legacy from our grandfather. I won the right to have it only because my mom pushed me out two minutes before Kurt’s mom did him." Humor brightened his dark blue eyes.

"One thing I’ve been happy about my whole life," Kurt added.

Still smiling and giving Ellie one hundred percent of his attention, Tripp shrugged. "Sorry about the slight deception, but at that time, you were one of our suspects. I needed to know what you looked like, up close and personal."

The news deepened Kurt’s scowl.

Ellie could see a slight resemblance between the two cousins. Clean-shaven, they both had strong, clean jaws with high cheekbones. Their lips really pegged the Duncan bloodline, though. The sensual lower lip and the curved, sexy upper. She approved.

Tripp took control of the ketamine, logging and marking each bag. Hours later, the authorities packed up and left. Tripp and Jess stayed behind. Ellie was finally able to peel Hades away from her body. She set the cat on his feet. He cast a suspicious gaze around the room, then darted for his powder-covered cat basket on the window seat.

"You want to come stay with Emma and me until this blows over?"

The surprising offer came from Jess. Ellie didn’t know what to do. Jess was a wonderful, kind man and his home would be a haven for Ellie and Hades.

"You know Emma would love to have you with us," he added.

A tempting offer, but Ellie knew herself well enough to say she’d never feel comfortable. "Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Plus, I’ve got a lot of work to do now, trying to get this disaster under control. Don’t worry, Jess. Kurt will be here with me. It’ll be all right."

He leaned back, stretching his spine with a crack. "I’ve got a lot of work to do now to catch these guys. We have hundreds of hours of video to look through."

Ellie cocked her head to one side. "Anything I can help with?"

Kurt winced.

Tripp glanced away.

Jess studied the carpet. "It’s pretty crude viewing."

She shook her head. "Considering some of the testimony I’ve recorded over the years, I doubt I’d be shocked."

Jess gave a reluctant nod. "All right, Ellie. An extra set of eyes at this point might help. I’m sure among the four of us we can scrounge up four TVs and VCRs. I don’t want the tapes to leave the NCIS lockup."

"Fine, Jess, and thank you. I’m ready to start when you are." But that would mean leaving Hades alone. Ellie chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe Vera or Emma could take him for the day; not that the cat would like that any better. He was a definite homebody. No, she’d just take him to the NCIS office with her in his cat carrier. He wouldn’t like that either, but at least he’d be near her and safe.

Tripp dusted his hands together. "Well, the least we can do is help you clean up around here before we leave." He took a step toward the pile of books. "Alphabetical order by author?"

"Just get them back on the shelves. I’ll worry about organizing them later. Besides, I’ve got to start packing up to move, so there’s not too much sense worrying about it." Just the thought made her ill. Ellie hated moving. Ironic, considering the military moved her every three years. And here she was marrying an NCIS agent; they moved just as often.

Don’t think, just do.That seemed to be her mantra lately. It had brought her a mix of good and bad. Living life sure wasn’t easy. But she supposed it beat burying her head under the covers.

"I’m going to start throwing my bedroom and bathroom back together."

"We’ll do our best to clean up down here," Kurt told her. "Just give us our marching orders."

Ellie volunteered a slight smile, then a brief kiss. "What would I do without you?"

"I’m hoping you won’t ever have to find out."

She added a hug and trudged upstairs.

***

Kurt held his smile until Ellie disappeared into her bedroom, then surveyed the room’s destruction. He was surprised the culprits hadn’t ripped open the leather furniture cushions—they’d torn through just

about everything else. Of course, these criminals weren’t rocket scientists. They’d left their fingerprints everywhere.

"If you’ll get me the vacuum, a dust rag, and some dusting spray, I’ll clean up the powder," Jess said.

Without a word, Kurt retrieved the items from where they’d been tossed onto the kitchen floor, then started in on the task of righting her kitchen. Everything these people couldn’t see through was pitched to the floor. They’d even dumped out her canisters of flour, sugar, and coffee. The potted plants from Ellie’s kitchen window were smashed on the floor, knocked down when the intruders entered over the sill. Mixed in with the soil were telltale shards of glass. As Kurt swept the mess into the trash, he made a mental note to replace the window pane before Bernadette started a new round of bitching.

He glanced at the clock perched on the opposite wall. They had hours of work left. If he didn’t go out and buy the glass now, they’d have to wait until morning and that didn’t set well with him. Obviously the glass wouldn’t hold a person determined to get in, but he needed the illusion of security.

Kurt climbed upstairs to tell Ellie where he was going and found her kneeling in the middle of her clothes. One by one she tossed them into the laundry basket. She jumped when she saw him. A flush colored her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze.

"They touched my things. I couldn’t stand the idea of wearing anything again until I washed the entire lot."

He knelt down beside her. "I understand."

Her shoulders sagged. "I feel so…violated."

He did, too. However, the very notion of her doing something as mundane as going to the laundromat scared the hell out of him. No matter how farfetched it sounded, he sure didn’t want to take the chance that the persons who did this would come after her next.

"We’ll take care of this together, as soon as you’re ready to start a load. You can put your clothes in the washer at my place. I’ve got to go out for a window pane anyway." Kurt helped her gather the clothes.

"Kurt, you can’t…" Her voice trailed off. "Thank you. I don’t suppose you’d consider letting Hades stay at your place while we’re working tomorrow?"

"As far as I’m concerned, you can both start moving in. Although for the life of me, I don’t know where we’ll put all those books."

She laughed, the first genuine release of tension since they got home. But amusement quickly crumbled into tears. Ellie buried her face in her hands and cried. Kurt pulled her into the shelter of his arms.

"I’m just so scared."

He cradled her head against his shoulder. "I know, honey, but we’ll get through this together. I promise."

***

Crude didn’t begin to describe the videos. Hundreds of other words did. Ellie could sum it all up in one—pathetic. If pressed, she could also add angry. The only constant in each tape was the hate on Susan’s face as she brought each man to her bed. Her victim never seemed to see the loathing. And the emotion was fleeting—a flash in time before she proceeded with her act. All Ellie could think about was Susan, the young girl, brutally and viciously attacked. This blackmailing scheme was the legacy of that tragedy. In spite of herself, Ellie felt sorry for Susan, for her family.

The door opened behind her. Ellie glanced up at Kurt.

"How’s it going?" he asked.

She popped out the tape and reached for another. "Going to be a long time before I’m going to want sex again, I’ll tell you that."

He gave a gusty sigh. "Great. Just the news a man likes to hear from his woman."

Ellie couldn’t help it. She laughed.

"The fingerprints all over your apartment belong to McConnell and Clark. MPs are rounding them up now. I’m going down to the base detention cell with Jess to start their questioning. Tripp’s still here in the building with you. If you find anything, let him know."

"Will do and…" An image flashed by on the screen. Ellie stood so fast her folding chair toppled back.

Kurt caught it before it could fall. "What?"

All she could do was point at First Sergeant Yost’s face. But it wasn’t just any video. This one wasn’t in the love-nest’s bedroom, it was filmed in the kitchen. It had very little to do with Susan’s normal line of blackmail, and everything to do with what looked like Yost’s side business.

From the corner of her eye she saw Kurt lean close, eyes wide. "My God, it’s First Sergeant Yost. Turn up the volume."

Yost nudged Jeremy’s shoulder. "You owe me big time, private. You’d be out of the Corps on a bad conduct discharge. Remember that."

"Yes, sir." Jeremy looked completely lost and hopeless.

"I want this ketamine cooked up and packaged by the end of the week. We’ve got buyers…very impatient buyers." Yost patted a large military-style khaki backpack beside him on the kitchen table.

"Tripp, we’ve got a hit for you," Kurt shouted over his shoulder toward the open door. "It’s certain. Call Jess. We’ve got another pick up for the MPs." He kissed Ellie’s temple with exultation. "Fantastic job, honey. I’ll let you know when we’ve got him in custody, then see you at home later."

***

With the arrests, the ketamine story unraveled. Tripp passed along the news, but Ellie wasn’t surprised. McConnell and Clark were part of Yost’s command. Yost supplied them with free drugs. They did his grunt work. The two of them were already trying to cut a deal with the Staff Judge Advocate’s office. She bet Yost was fuming. God, she would have loved to see the look on his face when the MPs hauled him to the detention cell in handcuffs. So much for the good ol’ boy. Ellie smiled with satisfaction.

"Well…" Tripp braced his palms on his knees. "That’s got to be a relief. Now you can go home and not worry. Can I give you a ride?"

Obviously her cue to go. Ellie snagged her purse. "Thanks. That’ll leave Kurt his car. I’m sure he’d appreciate it, and I can do some more packing."

"Ah, yes…the big move." He held the door open for her. "Nervous?"

"No." Ellie smiled. It just felt right. "So, tell me about your branch of the Duncans."

During the fifteen-minute drive, Tripp somehow managed to condense his family tree—parents, brothers, the close relationship between his father and Kurt’s, and even threw in a little about his maternal grandfather’s horse ranch east of town.

"Never married?" she asked as he pulled into her driveway.

He shrugged. "Wouldn’t mind being married. Just haven’t found the right woman yet. Unless you want to kick Kurt to the curb." He gave a rakish grin.

Ellie laughed at the mischief in his midnight blue eyes. "Not a chance. You Duncans…are you all so ornery?"

He smiled. "Just about. Welcome to the family."

Ellie was still chuckling to herself as she walked inside. She bypassed the clutter of packing boxes in the kitchen and living room, deciding to tackle upstairs first.

Hours passed while she methodically boxed and labeled items. After folding the top closed on a box of linens, Ellie sat cross-legged on her bed while she planned her next project. The bedroom was done, so was the bath. The kitchen could wait, Kurt had enough food in his kitchen. Her books…that was a day-long task all by itself. And Kurt really had no place to put them.

Oh, well. She’d survived with piles of books stacked around on the floor in the past, and she could do so again. But could Kurt?

Ellie laughed to herself. Another test of their relationship.

"Well, this isn’t getting the packing done. Move it, Ellie girl."

She hoisted herself from the bed and made her way to the staircase. Shuffling from below stopped her. She frowned. Kurt would shout out a greeting when he walked in. It had to be Bernadette borrowing something again. Ellie discounted that idea, too. The dead bolt was locked.

On tiptoe she crept forward to the edge of the staircase for a peak. Susan stood before the window seat dressed in black jeans, sweatshirt, ski cap, and gloves. A military duffel bag lay on the floor beside her. Without pause, she picked up Hades’ cat basket from the window seat, tossed it and the pillows aside, and lifted the lid.

"Looking for something?"

Susan started at the sound of Ellie’s voice. She whirled around. Indecision flitted across her face.

Ellie slowly descended. "Don’t bother with your little act, Susan."

Lips thinned to a tight line. "Fine, I won’t. Don’t come any closer, Ellie." She yanked a pistol from under the back of her sweatshirt. "Just give me what I came for."

"So you can kill me and leave?"

Susan lifted one corner of her mouth in the mocking semblance of a smile. "I wouldn’t kill you. You’re my friend."

"And a witness. I’m not stupid." She thought she heard a car pull up in front of the condo.Kurt! If she could only stall… "How did you get in here?"

The woman shrugged. "I learned how to pick locks from one of my associates. Dead bolts are tricky, but not pick-proof. Just takes patience."

"It’s always good to have a hobby." Ellie took a step closer to the door. "Why the act? How did you manage to get away from your parents?"

Susan laughed, a flat, caustic sound that sent a shiver of dread down Ellie’s spine. "My parents are sound sleepers. Always have been. And the act?" She snickered. "You don’t think I’d actually let them prosecute me, do you? Especially when I knew about this little gold mine." She waved her hand to the empty window seat. "Where is it, Ellie? We could split it up. Together, we’d make a great team."

"After you tried to set me up? You were going to let me go to jail for your little blackmail scheme." Ellie tried to remain calm and eyed the gun.

"Surely you’re not going to hold that against me. I had to do something. That jerk Yost turned the tables on me. Told me he’d mention my little money-making program to one of his NCIS pals."

"You tried to blackmail him for his ketamine trafficking, so he tried to do the same to you with your little sex tapes. Only it didn’t work. That’s why he went to the hospital the day Jeremy died. He knew who you really were. He was trying to threaten you."

Anger bracketed Susan’s eyes. "He discovered the ketamine was missing from Jeremy’s hovel. Thought I might have something to do with it."

"And you did, didn’t you?"

The sinister smile was back. "Of course I did. Jeremy was always so easy to manipulate. I told him Yost and his two thugs planned to cheat him and convinced him to hide the stuff here."

"Susan, you may just as well have killed him."

She snorted. "Who says I didn’t?"

Ellie’s eyes widened.

"Don’t look so shocked. It’s all the cost of doing business. The little twerp was going to go to NCIS about all of us. What choice did we have? I played lookout while Yost smothered him. Then I destroyed the pillow. It made a lovely fire."

So, she and Yost were in deep together. Obviously, she had him buffaloed, too, or he would have given her up to authorities by now. Probably convinced himself what they had was love.

Ellie caught movement from the corner of her eye. Seconds later Bernadette’s heels clicked across the kitchen linoleum.

"Now what?" She entered the living room in mid-complaint. "Eleanor, I swear if that beast of a cat gets out and sharpens his claws on my new car, I’ll…"

Susan swung the gun in Bernadette’s direction.

"Bernadette, watch out!" Ellie knocked Susan to the floor with one flying leap. The blast from the gun roared in her ear. "Call 9-1-1! Call 9-1-1!" She struggled to keep Susan’s flailing body beneath hers. They were evenly matched in size and strength.

Heels clicked out a staccato rhythm as Bernadette sped back through the kitchen. Susan swung the gun wildly, trying to smash it into Ellie’s head. Ellie grabbed Susan’s wrist in a vain effort to knock the weapon away.

While Ellie and Susan wrestled, only harsh gasps and grunts pierced the silence as each struggled for dominance. Ellie drew on her fear, her anger, and her pain and threw all of those emotions back at Susan in one mighty surge of energy that gave strength to her tired body.

"Let go, Susan! Give it up," she shouted and jammed her thumb deep into Susan’s wrist tendons.

Susan cried out and the gun tumbled to the carpet. Ellie shoved it away with one swipe of her hand. In another swift move, she flipped her nemesis onto her back, parked a knee into Susan’s lumbar, and pinned her in place.

Footsteps ran toward them. Ellie didn’t dare take her gaze off Susan to see who was there. Whoever it was stopped in the doorway.

"You reallyare a killing machine. You really can take care of yourself," Kurt said.

He continued forward, clamped handcuffs around Susan’s wrists, and hauled her to her feet. "I think you’ve played enough games to last a lifetime, Susan. You’re due for a long vacation behind bars. Your boyfriend Yost just gave you up for a deal."

"Bastard!"

Wild blue eyes stared at Ellie—panic, fear, rage. An act or the real thing? Hard to tell with Susan.

"Tell him to get his filthy hands off me. No man handles me this way. No man. I’m in charge, not them. Me! Me! Me!" She twisted and kicked at Kurt in a manic attempt to escape.

Sirens screeched to a halt outside. Police rushed the door. Kurt shoved Susan into their care, then draped an arm around Ellie and drew her close. His arms were shaking.

Ellie burrowed into his chest. "Don’t judge me too quickly, Duncan. I might be able to take care of myself some of the time, but not all of it. That’s your job."

He gave a soft chuckle. "Glad to know you have some uses for me."

She gave him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances. "Don’t worry. I have lots of uses for you. You’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg."

Bernadette trotted up to them, police officer in tow. "This is the one, officer. She’s asaint I tell you. She saved my life. You wouldn’t believe such bravery."

The older woman was pale with shock, her makeup clownish on her white face. Ellie noted with amusement that Bernadette looked very much like her dolls at the moment.

The police officer seemed unimpressed with the woman’s dramatic news. He nonchalantly pulled his notebook from his pocket. "We’re going to need a statement from you, ma’am."

Kurt flashed his badge. The officer nodded and stepped away.

Bernadette clasped her hands under her chin and looked around wildly. "What’s all this?" She fluttered one hand at the packing boxes. "You can’t move now. You just can’t. I swear I won’t feel safe here

without you. Without you both! You simply must stay. I insist."

Ellie looked at Kurt. She raised one questioning eyebrow. He gave an imperceptible nod, then faced the older woman.

"We’ll stay, but there are going to have to be some changes made."

***

Kurt stood at the altar waiting for his bride. The church was packed. So much for small weddings. He was surprised Ellie let the parents have their way on this, but then he and Ellie had other things to occupy their time while the wedding was being fussed over. And she needed to conserve as much energy as possible.

He scanned the crowd as Vivaldi’sSpring began to play and doors at the end of the aisle opened. With the exception of Tripp, who’d run afoul of a drug lord and was hospitalized with gunshot wounds, he didn’t think any friend or family member was absent. Everyone was all smiles. Even Ellie’s parents seemed to be getting along. And Bernadette…it was hard not to laugh. Ellie’s former archenemy was now her staunchest supporter. A quick brush with death did great things for Bernie’s personality.

There was a flurry of activity just beyond the doors, then they closed. It wasn’t hard for Kurt to figure out what had happened. Seconds later, Zach Taylor came up the side aisle and summoned him with a loud "pssst."

Kurt lifted his palms to the guests. "Everything’s fine. Just sit tight." Forcing a smile, he gave them a nod and slipped away with his best friend.

"She’s in the bathroom," Zach said as they strode along the corridor. "Refuses to see anyone but you."

"It’s okay. I’ll take care of it." He squeezed his way through the frantic women milling around in the hallway, edged through the door, and locked it. "Ellie?"

"In here."

He found her where he expected her to be—sprawled on the floor, her head in the toilet. "It’s okay, honey. I understand morning sickness doesn’t last that long." He wet a paper towel and squatted down beside her.

"Everyone’s going to think I’m pregnant," she wailed.

He tried not to laugh. "Youare pregnant." He held her veil back while she emptied the pitiful contents of her stomach. Why had the mothers tried to feed her?

She sagged against him. "My worst nightmare. Lying flat on the floor of a church bathroom. Throwing up. Oh God, I didn’t get any on my dress, did I?"

"You’re perfect."

"There you go, making judgments again."

"Based on fact this time, my love. Youare perfect." He blotted the sweat from her brow. "Feel better?"

Ellie nodded.

"Good. Let’s fix your makeup and get married."

When she nodded again, he snagged her makeup kit from her maid of honor and locked the woman out of the bathroom. As he knelt beside her once more, powder puff poised to repair the damage, Ellie started to giggle.

"What’s so funny?" He dusted, then tucked the compact away. Out of the bag came a lipstick, liner, and hairbrush.

"When I said I had other uses for you, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

"Just trying to make myself handy. I wouldn’t want to be replaced. Plus, it’s nice to put makeup on someone else for a change. There. All done. Perfection." He helped her to her feet. "Ready?"

She plucked at the square neckline that showed off the tops her generous breasts. "Let’s hurry before these things decide to grow any more." She paused and took a shallow breath. "And before I have to throw up again."

"Just don’t let those mothers try to feed you anything." He tucked one errant chocolate curl back into her headdress, dropped a kiss to her cheek and hurried back to his former position.

He’d barely settled in when the doors opened once more. The wedding party glided past him in a blur. Then there was Ellie. She gave him a radiant smile. Emotion choked him. His beautiful Ellie.

How could he have possibly ever thought anything else?

Catherine Snodgrass

Anything Is Possible!That’s Catherine Snodgrass’s motto. Blessed (or cursed) with a vivid imagination, Catherine has learned to turn that "talent" inward. She grew up reading Victoria Holt, Phyllis Whitney, and others, and loves to "go places" in her writing. Readers should expect different locales and deep emotions in Catherine’s books. She also believes that life is to be lived not watched, and has done some inner exploring of her own—hiking a new path, learning a new skill, and even conquering a life-long fear of singing in public to take a turn or two on the stage of the local community theater. Her work as a paralegal in family and tax law has helped her tune in to the emotions of others and further deepen that

aspect of her writing. Having set her children off in the world to explore their own paths, Catherine lives in the beautiful desert of Southern California with her husband (a genealogist) and the animals she loves.

Bryndis Rubin

Bryndis Rubin was born in Michigan, and her first name is Icelandic for "Iron Maiden," a difficult legacy to live up to! Her marriage to a United States Marine has allowed her to live in many states, including California, her current residence. A reference librarian and Internet instructor by profession, she has always loved books and writing, but her first published works were articles of instruction for her students. Her first professional publication was "The Internet: Where No Trainer Has Gone Before," an article published by the American Society for Training and Development and designed to help corporations teach their employees the basics of Internet use. After moving to Southern California, Bryndis met author Catherine Snodgrass, who encouraged her to write towards her true interest, romance novels. Together, Bryndis and Catherine coauthoredAlways Faithful , a novel of love and intrigue set in the world of the Marine Corps. To their delight, it was accepted for publication and they began working on the sequel,Ice Princess . Additionally, this writing team has also contracted a third book,Judging Ellie . With her USMC attorney husband and their son, Bryndis enjoys writing in the arid beauty of their desert duty station and dreams of green grass and snow.

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