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Chapter One Clutter spilled across the desktop in Ray Jantzen’s home office: unopened junk mail, books, a running shoe with a broken lace, file folders, research notes for a paper he’d published in the American Journal of Psychiatry and…a gun. Behind a stack of magazines, he located a framed photograph of his late wife, Annie, and their son, Blake. The sight of his beloved Annie’s smile wrenched at his heart. She’d passed away two years ago, a month shy of their fortieth anniversary. With his thumb, Ray wiped a smudge from the glass and focused on the image of his son. Though Blake was only eight in this picture, his dark brown eyes snapped with impatient intelligence. Gifted wasn’t a sufficient word to describe him. And yet, he hadn’t chosen a career where he could concentrate on his intellect. At age twenty-five, Blake was part of a Special Forces team working undercover in undisclosed locations. Setting aside the photo, Ray opened his laptop and typed an e-mail. My dear son, I loved
Chapter One
Chapter Two Blake watched her reaction, looking for a sign that Eve Weathers had been complicit in Prentice’s scheme. He saw nothing of the kind. His information had shocked her. She gasped, loudly and repeatedly. Her eyes opened wide. Pupils dilated. She was on the verge of hyperventilation. Her chest heaved against the seat belt. “I can’t be pregnant.” “I said it was a possibility.” “Why would you say such a thing? And how the hell would you know?” “Before he was murdered, my father sent me an e-mail.” At the moment the e-mail was sent, Blake had been in a debriefing meeting at the Pentagon. He didn’t read the message until two hours later. By then, it was too late. His father was dead. “What did it say?” Too much for him to explain right now. Blake cut to the pertinent facts. “My father received information that Dr. Prentice had implanted you with an embryo.” “During the examination? While I was unconscious?” She dragged her fingers through her pale blond hair. “That’s sickening. Di
Chapter Two
Chapter Three Eve heard the sharp rap of knuckles against the bathroom door—a faraway sound, like pebbles being tossed down a well. Blake called through the door, “Are you all right? Eve, answer me.” She wasn’t all right. Too many variables swirled inside her head. Nothing made logical sense. “I’m coming in,” Blake said. The doorknob turned. Through a haze, she saw him come closer. He knelt beside her. His fingers rested on her throat, checking her pulse. “Locked door,” she said. “How did you…” “Picked the lock,” he said. “Can you sit up?” “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t fine. Her eyelids closed, shutting out the light and the intolerable confusion. Her mind careened wildly. How could she be pregnant when she’d never made love? She had the result without the experience. People told her sex was great, but she hadn’t tested the theory, didn’t know for sure. There was a lot she didn’t know, like how to be a mother. Would the baby look like her? A girl baby or a boy? Oh, God, what would she tel
Chapter Three
Chapter Four Eight minutes ago, Eve had unlocked her front door and entered her house, glad to be home. Her familiar surroundings had greeted her like old, faithful friends. The oversize wingback chair where she did most of her reading had beckoned, and she’d decided to curl up in its cozy embrace and have a cup of tea while her mind wrapped around the complications of being pregnant. On the way to the kitchen to put on the hot water to boil, she’d patted the back of the comfy sofa with its multicolored throw pillows. She’d passed the round dining-room table. In the doorway to the kitchen, she froze. Two men, dressed in suits and neckties, stood between the sink and the refrigerator. Except for their sunglasses, they looked like businessmen at a sales meeting. She desperately wanted to believe that there was a logical reason for them to be here. Holding her purse in front of her like a shield, she asked, “Who are you? How did you get into my house?” “The back door was open.” That was p
Chapter Four
Chapter Five No matter how irritated she got, Eve had to accept the fact that Blake was well-trained for situations involving physical violence, and she’d be wise to follow his directions. Still, she didn’t want to be totally dependent on him and definitely wanted to have access to her own car while she was staying at his father’s house. When he loaded her suitcase into the back of his station wagon, she said, “I’ll drive myself and meet you there.” He slammed the car door closed. “Ever been in a high-speed pursuit?” “No.” “Do you have training in evasive driving tactics?” She could see where he was heading. Her shoulders slumped, and she exhaled a sigh. “I’m pretty good at dodging squirrels.” “If those guys see you driving alone, they might try to apprehend you again.” He gave her a wink. “You ride with me.” She groaned. Her life had become too dangerous for her to drive her own car. Too dangerous to sleep in her own bed. This was so unfair. When she glanced over her shoulder at her c
Chapter Five
Chapter Six Eve stood under the light on the porch and watched as David Vargas pulled away from the curb. His hybrid SUV was packed with floral arrangements that he’d promised to drop off at local hospitals and nursing homes, but she really didn’t think he’d make those deliveries himself. Vargas presented himself as a very important guy—a legend in his own mind—who had battalions of assistants to take care of life’s pesky details. When he had first started talking to her and helping her clear the buffet table, she’d been puzzled. Why would somebody like him—a rich and powerful mover and shaker—show interest in somebody like her? Guys like Vargas dated supermodels. Why would he waste his considerable charm on a mathematician in a Star Trek T-shirt? Not being one for subtlety, she’d asked him point-blank. “Why?” “The Prentice-Jantzen study,” he’d said without losing a glimmer of his suavity. “I believe we were both subjects.” Did Blake know about this? She’d wanted to signal him, but he
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven In the kitchen, Blake leaned against the oak cabinets and watched as Eve precisely measured coffee grounds and poured them into the basket of the coffeemaker. She’d taken off her shoes, revealing slender, well-shaped feet. He had to wonder what the rest of her body looked like under the shapeless Trekkie T-shirt and loose-fitting denim slacks. She sure as hell didn’t work at being attractive. Hers was an unintentional beauty. Potent, nonetheless. Damn it, he shouldn’t have kissed her. That was just plain wrong. “Do you think half a pot is enough?” she asked. “Doesn’t matter.” He wished that she’d stop treating him like a drunk. It took more than a couple of shots to affect him. “Coffee doesn’t really sober you up.” “Is that the voice of experience talking?” “The only real effect of caffeine on alcohol is to make you a more wide-awake drunk.” “I’ll settle for wide-awake.” She turned on the coffeemaker and faced him. “Are there any security measures we should be taking?” “I
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight Blake wasn’t drunk, not even close, but he left the driving to Eve and rode shotgun in the passenger seat of his dad’s station wagon. As she drove, he scanned the streets, looking for any anomaly that might turn into a threat: a person in a parked car, headlights following them, a loiterer with a cell phone. Nothing he saw set off alarm bells. Eve merged smoothly onto the highway leading toward downtown Denver. “How am I doing?” she asked. “Smooth and steady.” “I’m a good driver,” she said. “And an excellent partner.” To tell the truth, he was glad to have her working with him. During the past several days since he had returned to town, he’d been butting his head against stone walls. The homicide detectives and their forensic teams responded quickly to his questions and had given priority to the autopsy so the body could be released for burial. But they’d been convinced from the start that his dad was the victim of a burglary gone wrong. Their investigation was cursory at
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine Because she hated unquantifiable variables, Eve thought their conversation with Latimer had been unsatisfactory. Though he accused her of being too direct, he’d been far too vague. Was he closely in contact with Prentice? Close enough to kill for him? She tossed the car keys to Blake and slipped into the passenger seat. Before he started the car, he handed her the note from Randall. “Nothing new here. You already had these phone numbers for Prentice.” “We did learn one important clue.” “What’s that?” “Latimer talked to Prentice today. That’s the only way he’d know I’m pregnant.” “What about the glow?” “Oh, please. That’s an old wives’ tale.” On the street in front of them, Pyro loaded his keyboard into a van parked under the streetlight. He wouldn’t be hard to trace; his vanity license plate proudly repeated his name: PYRO. Turning to face them, he snapped both hands open. A flame exploded from his fingers. “Wow!” She applauded. “Very cool.” “Lighter fluid,” Blake muttered
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten At the sound of the alarm, Blake was awake. Alert. Ready. The Sig Sauer that had been on the bedside table was in his hand. Safety off, he aimed two-handed at the closed bedroom door. He reversed position, pointed the barrel at the thin light filtering through the plaid curtains on the windows. No immediate threat was visible. He scissored his legs free from the comforter, leaped across the narrow space between the twin beds and covered Eve with his body. He’d wanted to touch her. But not like this, damn it. No time to explain. He pulled her off the bed. In a few steps, they were inside the adjoining bathroom where the only window was high off the floor. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a bathtub where she could take cover. He felt her standing close behind him. No whimpering. No complaining. Like a good soldier, she was waiting for him to tell her what to do. A damn good question. They could hunker down and wait for the security company to respond in ten, maybe fifteen minutes.
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven The next morning at Fitzsimons, Eve fidgeted in an uncomfortable chair along the wall in General Walsh’s outer office. Her gaze went to a clock on the secretary’s desk, watching as the minutes ticked by. She crossed her legs and swung her ankle in tight circles. “Nervous?” Blake asked. “I’m fine.” After last night when she’d told him she was a virgin, he’d been more cautious around her, treating her like a fragile piece of glass. But she’d wanted him to know because they kept bumping into each other…with their lips. It seemed impossible to avoid his embrace. Inevitable that they would soon make love. All night long, she’d dreamed of him. On some level, she’d known that she wasn’t actually on a tropical beach with palm trees and a tranquil azure sea. She hadn’t really been watching Blake rise from the waves, shake the water from his hair and come toward her. In dreams, her senses had been fooled. She had smelled the salty tang of the surf. Her toes had dug into warm sand.
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve Eve had to admit that the tiny communication device fitted into her ear was a very cool gadget. She heard Blake clearly, even though he’d taken a position down the block from the restaurant where she was supposed to meet David Vargas. In addition, she wore a microphone pin so Blake could hear what she said. The secret communication made her feel like a superspy. As she entered the Gilpin Grill in Cherry Creek North, she whispered, “I’m going inside.” In her ear, Blake responded, “I know. I can see you. You don’t have to tell me everything.” At the door, she was met by a host who whisked her to the leather-padded booth where Vargas awaited. He slid out from behind the table and greeted her with a kiss on both cheeks, which was not the way she usually said hello. Her typical lunch with the Sun Wave crew tended to be pizza or fast food. Not linen tablecloths and heavy silverware. Though many of the restaurant patrons, including Vargas, wore suits, she didn’t feel out of pla
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen Blake had been aware of Randall’s presence for the past half hour. He’d been watching from the opposite side of the street when the stocky, balding man had come around the corner, stopped at the entrance to the Gilpin Grill and peeked inside. After speaking on a cell phone, Randall had gone to a stone bench beside a planter filled with orange and yellow geraniums where he’d sat, waiting and making no attempt to hide. Blake had concluded that Randall was the messenger. But what the hell was the message? Obviously, Latimer’s driver had come to the Gilpin Grill to see Eve. How did he know where to find her? Had Vargas tipped him off to the location? The idea of Vargas and Latimer working together worried him. Instead of a direct confrontation, Blake had decided to hold off and see what unfolded. As he had listened to Eve’s conversation with Vargas through his earpiece, he had stayed out of Randall’s sightlines. His military experience had schooled him in methods to make h
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen At the house, Eve set up her computer at the desk in Blake’s bedroom where she could use his printer. After these anxious hours of wondering, she was almost afraid to compare their DNA profiles. Before Blake barged into her life, she hadn’t felt like she was missing anything by not having a relationship. Her work was enough. She was happy as a single person. Not lonely, not really. But now she was different. Irrational, crazy emotions intruded into her life equation. She wanted to be with him, and she knew he felt the same way about her. If it turned out that they were genetically related, they had a problem. With a few clicks on the keyboard, she opened the e-mail from General Walsh’s secretary. When the DNA chart appeared, she sat and stared blankly. Blake hovered at her shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” “Does it really matter what it says? It’s only genetics. Even if it turns out wrong…” “Damn it, Eve. Read the charts.” She printed out his DNA results to compare
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen Blake turned the photograph over in his hands, impressed by his dad’s cleverness and irritated at himself for not figuring out the clue sooner. “He gave me the answer. The key.” Eve nodded. “Dr. Ray must have known for a long time that the information generated by the study was dangerous.” “He should have told me.” Though Blake didn’t claim genius status when it came to intellectual stuff, he was damned good in a fight. “Why the hell didn’t he call on me for help?” “Because this was his battle.” She was blunt but accurate. Blake nodded. “He thought he could handle it by himself.” “Also, he didn’t want to tell you about your genetic parents.” “Why? It wouldn’t have changed the way I felt about him.” Her clear blue eyes softened. “I’m the wrong person to ask when it comes to motives, but I’d guess that your dad’s rationale for keeping this secret had something to do with his love for you.” He wished he could go back in time to when his father was alive and tell him how mu
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Heading toward downtown Denver in the sleek armored Mercedes, Blake glanced over at Eve in the passenger seat. They’d been in the car for less than eight minutes, and she was already asleep. She’d told him that she was going to nap, tilted the seat back and…zap! Even in repose, she was vibrant. The light from the dashboard caught on the wisps of hair that fell across her forehead. Her nose twitched. Her lips were bruised from a thousand kisses, but she was smiling like a woman who had been well satisfied from an afternoon of loving. Blake considered himself a very lucky man to be with her. Doubling back through traffic, he watched headlights and looked for other signs that they were being followed. No need to worry about bugs or GPS devices. Not in this car. A built-in scrambler made their movements untraceable. He merged onto the highway and checked his G-Shock wristwatch. The Pyro concert started at ten, which gave him enough time to get there. It was hard for him to
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen Blake based his attack on two factors: these two hired guns weren’t experienced in combat, and they were cowards. Twice before, they’d run from him. More difficult was the problem of engaging in a firefight while keeping Eve safe. He couldn’t leave her in this room where she could be easily captured. He told her to stay low, to find a hiding place in the larger room outside the hallway and to use her stun gun if anyone approached her. Any minute, Detective Gable would be here. “Why not wait for him?” she asked. “Gable’s smart,” he said. “He’ll block the backstage exits. But he won’t have the manpower to monitor the audience. The Pyro staff can use the crowd to escape.” “The whole staff? Do you think they’re all involved?” “Don’t know. All I’m worried about right now is apprehending these two.” Grabbing junk from the prop room, he threw together a dummy target that would go ahead of them. He had to move fast, to provoke gunfire before they knew what they were shooting
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen Spray from the steaming hot shower pelted Blake’s shoulders and ran down his back, soothing the minor bruises from his brawl at the theater. Staying in a downtown hotel had been the right decision; he was so tired that he might have fallen asleep at the wheel driving back to his dad’s house, and it would have been a shame to wreck that beautiful Mercedes. Random thoughts popped inside his brain. Vargas knew more than he was telling. Having him show up at the concert where the two thugs made their final play had been more than coincidence. If anyone was clever enough to be a criminal mastermind, it had to be Vargas. But Pyro had fled the scene. A classic admission of guilt? And what about Latimer? His contact with Prentice was damned suspicious, and he had a strong motive to suppress the information in the Prentice-Jantzen study. One of those men had killed his father. If Blake hadn’t been so tired, he might have reached out and grasped the solution. Getting out of the
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen The match from CODIS sapped Blake’s appetite. His carne asada burrito was made the way he liked it with the chili hot and the cheese smooth, but he could barely make a dent in his extra-large portion. Eve had looked up information on Pyro’s father using a phone app. It had taken the FBI twelve years to track this bastard down. With over forty kills in seven different states attributed to him, he was a Ted Bundy–type serial killer—charming, intelligent and grotesque in his cruelty. And they were dealing with his son. “Just because Pyro shares his DNA,” Eve said, “it doesn’t mean he’ll turn out the same way.” “What about the psychological profile?” “It’s not proof.” Her voice was firm. “Detective Gable told you that he had no evidence against Pyro.” “Until now, he hasn’t been looking. That’s changed. Gable is checking Pyro’s schedule for his on-the-road concerts to see if it coincides with any unsolved murders in those towns.” “It isn’t right to condemn him because of hi
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty While Blake and Latimer worked on Randall, Eve slipped out of the examination room. They’d called 911. Soon the parking lot outside would be filled with ambulances and police cruisers. The office would be crawling with cops. Before she’d gotten involved with Blake, her only contact with the police was the occasional speeding ticket. Now, she knew the drill. There would be questions, confusion and a total lack of privacy. Latimer had told her that the cell phone on his desk would connect with Prentice. She needed to make that call before the chaos descended. Blake poked his head out of the exam room. “Eve, go out to the hallway so you can direct the paramedics. Randall needs a hospital. Every minute counts.” “I’m on it.” Before she went to the outer door, she dashed into Latimer’s private office and grabbed the cell phone. In the bloodstained hallway, she paced in front of the elevators. Prentice had the answer to her burning question: who was her baby’s father? Though sh
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One Slowly, painfully, Eve became conscious. The inside of her head felt as if it was going to explode. Her limbs were stiff and cold. Her mouth tasted as if she’d been sucking on cotton balls. She licked her lips. God, she was thirsty. She pried her eyelids open. Her wrists and ankles were bound with rope. She was huddled on a couple of blankets inside what seemed to be a barn. The only light came from a couple of hanging bulbs. One wall was completely open. The air smelled of machinery and grease. Looking through the door into the moonlit night, she saw a long, flat stretch of land that had been cleared except for occasional clumps of persistent weeds. An airstrip. This wasn’t a barn; it was an empty hangar. Ignoring the throbbing inside her head, she struggled to sit up. Since her hands were tied in front of her, she might be able to unfasten the ropes at her ankles. She bent her legs to the side and twisted around. With numb fingers, she attacked the knots. Outside t
Chapter Twenty-One
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