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  “I have to find Esteban,” she said as soon as she broke the connection.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “That was my babysitter. My son fell and hit his head. She doesn’t think it’s serious, but it’s bleeding and he’s crying. He’s only three. I need to check on him.”

  “No need to find Esteban. I can drive you if it’s a ride you’re looking for.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “It could be. Esteban’s car may be blocked in. My truck isn’t.” He’d made sure of that just in case he decided to sneak out early. He didn’t usually last more than an hour or so at fancy shindigs like this one.

  Alonsa scanned the parking area. “Surely the parking valet could get Esteban’s car out.”

  “You’d save time if I drive you, but hey, it’s your kid. Your call.”

  That seemed to resonate with her. “If you’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “Wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

  “Then I just need to let Esteban know so he won’t look for me later.”

  “There’s Cutter,” Hawk said, nodding toward his former SEAL buddy and new boss, who was standing nearby talking to a couple of local ranchers. “We’ll tell him. He’ll see that Esteban gets the word.”

  She nodded and in minutes they were on their way to her place. It hit Hawk about five miles down the road that with the help of a bleeding kid, he had played exactly into Linney’s matchmaking scheme.

  BRANDON SALATOYA’S injury turned out to be no more than a bump on the head and a slight cut across the top of his right eye. The rambunctious preschooler had reportedly been running up the stairs for his bedtime story when he’d tripped over his dog, a short-tailed, mixed-breed mutt with soulful eyes and a yappy bark.

  The boy had settled down quickly when his mother arrived and was now drinking chocolate milk and marching a plastic dinosaur over a mountain of sofa cushions. He’d gotten a reprieve from bedtime until Alonsa was certain there was no aftereffect from the bump to the head.

  The sitter, a rawboned rancher’s wife named Ellen, who smiled often and had graying, slightly frizzed hair, had gone home, greatly relieved that she hadn’t allowed a serious injury on her watch.

  Alonsa had disappeared with the promise to be right back. The dog, Carne, short for Carnivorous as the precocious youngster had explained, was lying by the fire in the massive stone fireplace, carefully keeping at least one eye on Hawk.

  Had Linney been able to spy on them, she’d no doubt be pleased at the cozy, familial scene. But looks were deceiving. The coziness went no further than the visual effects. Once Alonsa was reassured her son was fine, having Hawk around had seemed to become instantly awkward for her.

  He’d half expected her to push him out the door with the babysitter. Instead she’d offered to make a pot of coffee in a tone and manner that suggested she hoped he’d turn her down.

  He hadn’t, of course. Nothing intrigued him more than a woman not into him, especially one as provocative as Alonsa. When she walked, he envisioned her dancing on a Broadway stage, her body twisting and swaying into erotic choreographic movements.

  Yet she was here in small-town Dobbin, Texas, living on a ranch with her young son, decorating other people’s houses and playing ice princess to available suitors. He wondered what her husband had been like and how he’d died. And if his death was the explanation for the haunting shadows that lurked in the depths of Alonsa’s dark eyes.

  Brandon marched his dinosaur as close as he could to Hawk’s leg without actually touching it. “How come you came to my house?”

  “I gave your mother a ride home from the party.”

  “How come you’re still here?”

  Good question. “I’m going to have a cup of coffee with your mother.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she asked me to.”

  “Why?”

  Fortunately Alonsa picked that minute to rejoin them. “Don’t go there with him,” she cautioned Hawk. “The whys are a black hole from which there is no escape.”

  Hawk stood and took the cup of coffee she offered.

  “I added a touch of Kahlúa and a dollop of whipped cream. If you’d rather have it plain, I can toss this and get you another cup.”

  He tasted the brew. “No, this is great.”

  “I’m sorry I rushed you away from the party. It’s not that I don’t trust Ellen. I do. She’s raised five children of her own. It’s just that I worry.”

  “No reason to apologize. Once you’ve toasted the newlyweds, the party’s all downhill.”

  “You didn’t look as if you were suffering,” she teased.

  “I’ve learned to hide it well.” A comeback that wasn’t that far from the truth.

  Alonsa was still wearing the blue dress, but she’d slipped out of the metallic stiletto sandals and into a pair of cream-colored slippers. She’d also removed her necklace. The earrings still dangled seductively from her smooth lobes. Her lipstick had almost worn off completely, leaving her lips a glistening, pale pink.

  She chose a seat across from him and Brandon, kicked off her slippers and curled her legs under her. “So what do you think of my designs?”

  Design was probably the one thing of hers he hadn’t been thinking about, especially since he had no clue what she was talking about. “Love them,” he said, going for low-key enthusiasm.

  “I first became interested in interior decorating while remodeling this house,” she said. “I didn’t get any formal training until after I’d moved to Dobbin.”

  “The house looks great.” Actually it looked like he’d expect a ranch house to look, except…homier. Yep, that was the word he was looking for. The kind of house where a man could get comfortable with a good book—or a hot woman.

  “I was going for rustic, but high-tech with modern comforts,” she explained.

  He gave the room a quick once-over. The walls were painted to look as if they were old stucco, with dents and nicks, in shades of a deep cream and pale tan. The chandelier looked as if it had once been used with gas. The mantel over the fireplace was thick, rough-hewn cypress, as were the high beams in the ceiling.

  The wide wooden planks of the floor looked to be original to the house, but they were polished and partially covered by a woven rug that picked up the brown in the leather sofa. Two cane-covered rockers sat next to the fireplace.

  “Looks like an authentic ranch house to me,” he said. “And the sofa is definitely comfortable.”

  “Thanks. When my husband inherited the place, it was literally crumbling. We practically had to gut it.”

  “Then this is new construction?”

  “All but the shell.”

  “Then you are good.” The question was why would she go to all this trouble to live in Dobbin? “Do you have family in the area?”

  “No.”

  “So how did you wind up here?”

  Wrong question. He sensed as much as saw the instant change in her. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, as if the room had suddenly dropped ten degrees, and then lowered her eyes to stare into her cup.

  “My husband’s uncle left him the ranch,” she finally said. “Todd loved the place and always planned to retire here.”

  No mention as to how she felt about the house, yet her husband was dead and she’d stayed on. Must have been crazy about the man. Probably had him on a pedestal too high for any other man to ever climb.

  “Do you want to see what I’ve done with the rest of the house?”

  “Sure, as long as there won’t be a test of my knowledge of the subject matter when we finish.”

  “No, but I can’t promise not to bore you with details.”

  “You do and I’ll start reciting the military handbook.”

  “Warning taken. Do you want to show Mr. Taylor your room, Brandon?”

  The kid scrunched his nose and planted his dinosaur on top of his head, tangling the toy in the dark locks of hair. “No. Want to watch car
toons.”

  “Okay, but when I say it’s bedtime, you have to turn off the TV without making a fuss.”

  He grinned as he hopped off the sofa and ran to retrieve a DVD from a basket on the bottom section of the built-in shelves. He inserted it into a player set between two stacks of children’s books.

  Hawk had yet to spot a TV. Alonsa picked up a remote, clicked it and then waited while the oil painting over the pine bookshelves slid away to reveal a flat-screen monitor.

  “Impressive.”

  She smiled. It lit her face and softened all her features. “Actually, the hidden TV is a bit of overkill, but it impresses potential clients.”

  “Then you work out of your home?”

  “As much as I can. I don’t like to spend any more time away from Brandon than I have to.”

  She went to the front door and checked the dead bolt, though he’d seen her lock it when she came in. “This way,” she said, pausing to look out the window before she led him into the hallway.

  Carne followed them. The intuitive dog definitely didn’t trust Hawk with his mistress. Smart dog.

  The kitchen was obviously Alonsa’s masterpiece. She reveled in the explanation of how she’d sought to create a totally modern working arena without losing any of the ranch-house charm.

  She’d done a bang-up job, right down to the red-and-white gingham curtains at the window and the appliances that were disguised as knotty pine cabinets. The awkwardness between them dropped away in layers as her enthusiasm built.

  The kitchen phone rang. She grabbed the antique receiver. “It’s probably Linney or Esteban making sure Brandon is okay.” She put the receiver to her ear. Her hello was tentative.

  A heartbeat later, her face turned a pasty white and her fingers trembled so badly the phone slipped from them. She swayed. Hawk caught her and the phone before either of them hit the floor.

  She shook off the shock and grabbed the phone from him. “Lucy? Lucy, is that you?” Her voice bordered on hysteria.

  Hawk shifted so that his ear was close enough for him to hear a reply—had there been one. There was only the clanging of a receiver and the droll signal of a disconnected call.

  Tears filled Alonsa’s eyes.

  His reaction system went on full alert. “Who was that?”

  She looked away, avoiding eye contact. “No one.”

  “Like hell.”

  “It’s nothing really.”

  “You’re a wreck. If you tell me what’s going on, I might be able to help.”

  “No one can help. Please, just go home, Hawk. Just go.”

  “Who’s Lucy?”

  “This isn’t your concern.” Her voice dropped to a shaky whisper.

  Right. And he didn’t need a strange woman’s problems. So why wasn’t he rushing out the door?

  He took both her hands in his and waited until her gaze locked with his. “Who’s Lucy?”

  “My daughter. She was abducted two years ago.”

  Chapter Two

  Alonsa pulled away from Hawk and walked to the kitchen window, staring out into the darkness but seeing nothing. She felt as if someone were scraping away the lining of her heart. The phone calls always had that effect on her.

  The sound of breathing behind her was the only sign that Hawk was still in the room. She gathered her resolve slowly, giving her mind a chance to crawl out of the black abyss into which the call had sucked her. When she turned around, Hawk was only a few steps away, staring at her with concern etched into the lines of his face.

  He leaned against the counter. “What’s with the phone call?”

  “A cruel hoax. It sounds like Lucy’s voice, but it’s not her.”

  His brows arched. “You sound sure of that.”

  “If it is her, it’s a recording made right after she was abducted. She sounds exactly the same every time.”

  “How often do you get these calls?”

  “It varies. In the beginning they came every week or two. Then they slowed down to every few months, but they’ve picked up again over the last two months.”

  “Do you have a tracer on your phone?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t help. The calls last only a few seconds and the ones they have been able to trace only match prepaid cell phones from locations all the way from Florida to California.”

  “Strange. Where did the abduction take place?”

  “In Houston.” Alonsa seldom talked to anyone about the abduction anymore, though it had been all she could talk about for the first year. But tonight the memories were razor sharp and the need to put them into words was suddenly all-consuming.

  “Give me a minute to check on Brandon,” she said, “and I’ll tell you about it.” She paused. “But I should warn you. I still can’t talk about it without getting upset.”

  “I have a broad shoulder, great for collecting tears.”

  “I’ll try not to drench you.”

  Brandon was curled up in a soft knit throw, laughing at the DVD he’d seen dozens of times, apparently with no repercussions from his fall. She watched him for a moment, letting the reassurance of his safety sink into her troubled soul. She knew she was overprotective with him, but how could she not be under the circumstances?

  Hawk was sitting at the table when she returned. She refilled both their coffee cups and joined him. It was more caffeine than she normally drank this late at night, but there was little chance she’d sleep anyway.

  “Are you sure you want to hear this, Hawk? It’s not as if talking about it changes anything.”

  “It could, if talk leads to the right action.”

  He only thought that because he didn’t know the whole story. For that matter, neither did she. She thought back, trying to find a place to begin.

  “It was five weeks to the day after my husband had been killed in New York. I buried him here in Dobbin and decided to stay on with the kids through the winter. I thought a change of scenery might help us all handle things better.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “I thought so at the time. My mistake. Everyone here was friendly and went out of their way to welcome us, but the only one I’d really connected with was Cutter’s Aunt Merlee. She’d taken me under her wing. Have you met her yet?”

  “No, but I’ve heard about her. Linney adores her.”

  “Everyone adores her. Anyway, that weekend she’d invited me and the children to visit her in her Houston townhouse so that I could take Lucy to some of the museums and child-oriented activities without having to make the long drive back to Dobbin at the end of the day. Brandon was only a year old and fussy that day, so Merlee had offered to watch him while Lucy and I took in the zoo.”

  “So it was just the two of you?”

  “Yes, mother-and-daughter time and Lucy was thrilled that she wouldn’t have to share me. Between the trauma of Todd’s death, the move and taking care of Brandon, I’d given her far too little of myself.”

  “It must have been a hard time for all of you.”

  It was still a hard time, all but unbearable on nights like this, with the sound of that voice on the phone echoing through her senses.

  Keep talking, Alonsa. Get through this. You should be able to talk of it without falling completely apart. It’s been two years.

  Her mind fixated on the events of that heartbreaking day, and she found small solace in remembering her daughter’s enthusiasm and laughter. “Lucy loved all the animals, but the sea lions were her favorite. It was nearing two when I told her we needed to go back to Merlee’s. She begged to see the sea lions one more time. I gave in, of course.”

  If she hadn’t…No. Going over the ifs didn’t help. The counselor had worked for months to get her to move beyond that and the personal recriminations. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

  “While we were watching the sea lion antics, a large school group arrived and we were inundated by first and second graders. Someone pushed someone and a fight broke out. A little girl was shoved to the groun
d and started wailing. I went to help her up while the teachers stopped the fight. When I looked for Lucy, she wasn’t there.

  “I wasn’t worried when I first lost sight of her, but then after minutes passed and I couldn’t locate her among the children, I started to panic.” Alonsa’s voice grew shaky.

  Hawk stood and rounded the table, resting his hands on her shoulders. “Maybe tonight’s not the best time for this. Why don’t you get some rest, and I’ll come back tomorrow morning?”

  “I’m okay.” His touch and sympathy were disconcerting in the quiet kitchen. “Do you have children, Hawk?”

  “No. I was married for a while once, but no kids. I’m sure I can’t begin to understand what you’re going though.”

  Yet he was here and a good listener. Or else the pain was just so overwhelming tonight she had to have the release of talking about it.

  “I haven’t seen my daughter since that day at the zoo. All I get is the phone calls, the torment of her voice asking for me when I can’t go to her.”

  “Surely the investigation uncovered some leads.”

  “None that produced results.”

  “Exactly what does the recorded voice say when you get the phone calls?”

  “It’s a young girl’s voice. All she says is ‘Mommy’ and then there’s a click and the call disconnects. Craig doubts that it’s Lucy’s voice. He thinks it’s more likely some sick pervert who heard about the case at the time and gets his kicks torturing me.”

  “Who’s Craig?”

  “Craig Dalliers, the FBI agent who’s heading up the kidnapping investigation. He’s been on the case almost since the beginning.”

  “Who conducted the initial search for Lucy, the local police or the FBI?”

  “Both. The police started the process, but the FBI took over as soon as they got clearance. My husband Todd was an FBI agent killed in the line of duty.”

  “I didn’t realize that.”

  “How could you know?” Alonsa asked. “We’ve barely met.”

  Yet here she was pouring out her soul to him in her kitchen. She was still wearing the blue cocktail dress she’d pulled from the back of her closet. He was in his tux. The bizarreness of the situation struck her and she wondered what she’d been thinking to invite him in when he’d driven her home. Still, she gave him the details of the search as succinctly as possible.