“Get smart, bitch,” a gravelly voice grated. “Stop sniffing around pussy that don’t belong to you.”

Carter tried to place the voice. “I don’t know wha…”

A boot drove into her midsection, and she gagged as bile flooded her throat.

“Sure you do,” the other one said. “You’ve got good taste in cunts. You’re just trying to eat at someone else’s table.” He laughed, as if pleased with his own joke.

Carter kicked him in the knee and he howled. She almost got her feet under her when something flat and hard rammed her temple. Her vision dimmed and her legs wobbled. The next blow took her down for good. A short, harsh flash lit up the alley and her world went black.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rica lay awake in the dark, listening to the wind and the night sounds. The codeine had helped ease the throbbing in her face, and she had dozed on and off throughout the evening. Now, well into the night, her head still pounded, but that wasn’t the pain that kept sleep away. And nothing that came in a bottle was going to dull the ache that had settled around her heart.

She had almost convinced herself that the previous night had been a dream. That the incredible rightness of Carter’s hands on her body, inside her body, had only been a perfect fantasy. A wish and nothing more. But it wasn’t just the heat of Carter’s mouth or her firm body and soft hands that she couldn’t forget, but the quiet way Carter listened when Rica spoke of her past and the hard fury in Carter’s eyes when Enzo had touched her.

Rica had changed the sheets, but she imagined that she could still smell her. And with that single fragile memory, all the rest came flooding back. The wanting, the yearning, the incredible freedom of being known. The rightness.

I’m a cop, Rica.

Furious with herself for being taken in by the understanding in Carter’s eyes, Rica threw the crisp, clean sheets aside and grabbed the bedside phone to call her father. She hesitated, her finger poised to speed dial, and considered what she would say. Papa, I’ve discovered an impostor who is trying to hurt you. That was Carter’s aim, wasn’t it? Her father needed to know, didn’t he?

She knew that her father, whose friends and allies could just as easily become enemies in the menacing world of shifting allegiances, was well protected. This time it’s different, Papa. She’s not one of us, she’s a cop. Surely the threat Carter posed was greater than that of the men who tried to wrest control from her father every day. Not one of us. When had she joined her father’s camp? Perhaps she hadn’t, but she couldn’t stand by and let him be hurt.

She stared at the phone. If she told him about Carter, what would he do? She wasn’t certain, because she had never wanted to know what orders her father issued to protect himself and his empire. Ignorance was innocence, or so she had let herself believe. More lies of her own making. Lies she had built her life upon. Would her father kill the woman who had held her in her arms? She shivered. She didn’t know.

One thing she did know. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she exposed Carter and Carter suffered for it. Right or wrong, enemy or friend, she could still smell Carter on her sheets. She had wanted her last night, last week, last month, and she wanted her now.

But what of the danger to her father? God, her head hurt. Carter had said there was no one else inside to find. Did that mean there was no danger, either? Why should she believe her? There was no reason to, but she did. She did believe her. But he was her father.

“Papa?”

“It’s late, cara. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I know. I’m fine.” Rica closed her eyes, although the room was dark. “I’m sorry.”

“You left without saying goodbye yesterday.”

“Something came up. An emergency here at the gallery.”

“Taken care of now?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so.” Rica steeled herself, knowing the phones could be monitored, choosing her words carefully. “I couldn’t sleep. Bad dreams. Can I tell you a story? That always makes me feels better.”

“Yes. Tell me what you…dreamed.”

“It was about friends who weren’t, one in particular. Someone we…I…trusted, who betrayed us. Hurt you.”

“Ah, broken loyalties. Infidelity of the worst kind.” Her father’s voice was soft, pensive. “This friend…he was secretly working with the enemy?”

“She.” Rica’s heart ached. “In my dream, it was a woman. I don’t know how, exactly, but I’m afraid…”

“I had a similar dream,” Alfonse said, “of a man I loved like a brother. He turned against me because he was weak and afraid. Don’t worry, cara. Dreams can’t hurt us.” He laughed softly. “When you were small, I would leave the light on so that you wouldn’t be afraid of the shadows in the corners. There will always be shadows, but you don’t have to worry about them. Go to sleep, cara, and forget about the dream.”

“You’re all right?”

“I’ll keep the light on for a while, but I’ll sleep well.”

“I love you, Papa,” Rica said softly, because it was the truth.

“I love you, cara. Come home soon when we aren’t giving a party. We’ll talk.”

“I’ll try. Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, Ricarda mia.”

Rica hung up, her head pounding mercilessly. As she lay awake, wondering who the man was her father had spoken of, she heard a car slow and stop somewhere nearby. She thought nothing of it until the crunch of shoes on shells penetrated her awareness. Listening more intently, she tried to discern if it was just a neighbor returning home. When the uneasy sensation of something not quite right became too much to tolerate, she crept to the window and looked down into the driveway. There was nothing but darkness.

She went back to bed and eventually fell into a restless half sleep, only to dream of running through endless dark streets from some formless horror that grew closer with each step.

“You should try to get some sleep,” KT said as she slid the screen door closed behind her and crossed the deck to where Tory stood at the railing. The slice of moon hanging over the water was nearly obscured by cloud, but she didn’t need moonlight to see Tory’s face. She’d lain down beside her countless nights, and every curve and plane of Tory’s being was carved into her soul. She rested her hand lightly on Tory’s lower back. “Reese will be pissed as hell if she comes home and you’re worn down to the bone.”

Tory stared at the harbor, but she wasn’t seeing the ebony surface, broken here and there by teasing slivers of starlight. “Do you think she’ll come home?”

“Yes,” KT said immediately. The terrible pain in Tory’s voice brought back memories of another time when the hurt had been of her doing, but she swiftly pushed those thoughts aside. The wounds she had caused Tory were in the past, and if she were to hope for absolution it would come not from apologies, but from whatever comfort and friendship she could offer her now. “She’s not dead, Vic. If she were, they’d have found her body by now, and we’d know.”

Tory shuddered but KT went on. She was no stranger to delivering hard messages, and she trusted Tory’s strength. “That means she’s a prisoner, because she’s too damn smart to just be lost and wandering around somewhere.”

“She could be hurt, lying out there in the desert.” Tory’s voice was an agonized whisper. “I can’t stand the thought of her being hurt and alone. I can’t.”

“They’ve got all kinds of aerial and ground surveillance equipment. Christ, they can put a missile down a chimney in the middle of a city. They don’t lose people.” KT slid her arm around Tory’s shoulders and squeezed. “Her father told you what happened, and I believe him. She’s been captured.”

“She’s a woman, KT,” Tory said in a strangled voice.

“She’s a fucking Marine. And even if those military types didn’t pride themselves on never leaving their people behind, her father’s a goddamn general. You can bet they’re tearing up the desert looking for her.”

“But it’s been so long. Anything could have happened…”

KT turned Tory to face her just as the moon escaped its cover. She framed Tory’s face as their eyes met. “Don’t. Don’t torture yourself thinking of things you can’t change. She’ll get through it, no matter what. So will you.”

“I’ve never felt this helpless.” Tory closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to KT’s palm. “So weak.”

“Oh, bullshit. Any one of us would be crazy out of our minds if it was our lover. Jesus, Reese would be ripping her way through the Pentagon by now.”

Tory laughed shakily. “She would.”

“It’s going to be okay. They’ll find her or she’ll get out. She’ll come home.” If it was a lie, KT knew it didn’t matter. In this moment, what mattered was hope. If the time came when there was none, they’d deal with that, too.

“I know you’re right. It’s just so hard not to be able to do anything.” Tory reached up and covered KT’s hand where it rested on her cheek. “You should go home. Don’t you have to go back to Boston tomorrow?”

“I traded a few days. I’ll be here for a bit.”

“Did Pia leave?”

“About an hour ago. She’s got early clients she couldn’t cancel.”

“She’s good for you,” Tory said.

“Yeah. She is.”

“She knows you’re not really so tough, doesn’t she?”

KT laughed. “Yeah.”

“In case you don’t know,” Tory said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

KT tilted her head until her forehead touched Tory’s. “Me too, Vic.”

“Good. Now that we have that settled, go home.”

Tory sounded stronger, and KT felt a little of her own worry lift. “Make a deal with you.”

“Oh no, I know what your deals are like.”

“I’ve changed.”

“Not that much.”

“I’ll go home if you go to bed.” KT touched a finger to Tory’s chin. “Please.”