Three hours later the phone rang again.

Every person in the room went silent. Kate took Jean’s hand. Pia wrapped an arm tightly around KT’s waist. Bri hugged Caroline from behind, cradling her against her chest. Nelson patted Reggie’s back as she slept on his shoulder.

Tory watched her family and friends, drawing strength from their love. “Hello? This is Tor-”

“General Conlon, Dr. King.”

“How is she?”

“Colonel…uh, Reese…is resting comfortably at Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in western Germany.”

“What are her injuries?” Tory asked with a calmness she didn’t feel.

“Second-and third-degree burns scattered over her torso, and a fractured clavicle, sustained when her vehicle ran over a land mine.” He sounded as if he were reading a laundry list. “Nothing life-threatening, the doctors assure me.”

“She’s conscious? No head injury?”

“They sedated her to treat the wounds, but she was quite alert in the field.”

“I appreciate all you’ve done, General,” Tory said, “but I’d like to ask another favor. Can you arrange for me to see her at the hospital? I’ll try to get flights for tomorrow. I can be there…”

“That won’t be necessary, Dr. King. Ordinarily, she would go from here to a stateside military hospital as soon as possible for whatever rehab is needed. If the doctors clear it, I’ll see that she comes home.” He paused. “Reese’s request.”

Tory took a long breath to steady herself. “I can assure you, General Conlon, that she will get all the care necessary right here.”

“I don’t doubt that, Doctor. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you.” Tory ended the call and regarded the anxious faces watching her. “Well. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but it’s very nice to have a general in the family. Reese is coming home.”

Amidst the cheers, Kate made her way to Tory and gave her a hug. “One thing I never doubted was that Roger loved her. I’ll always be grateful to him for this.”

Tory nodded. “So will I.” Then she laughed. “She’s coming home. God, Kate. She’s coming home.”

Carter knew Rica was there before she opened her eyes. She could smell her, a faint whiff of mandarin and spice.

“Opium,” Carter murmured.

Rica laughed. “No, but that’s very good. It’s a custom fragrance but there are some similarities.”

Naked beneath the sheets, Carter gazed at Rica, who sat nearby in a white wicker chair, framed by the colors of sunset beyond the open French doors. A breeze teased her hair and a hint of a smile lingered. She looked so achingly lovely that Carter wished with all her heart that she could stop time.

“How long have I been asleep?” Carter vaguely remembered falling into bed after her shower. Rica had not been in the room then.

“About four hours. How are you feeling?”

“Cleaner.” Carter studied Rica’s remote expression. They might have been strangers. “Why am I here?”

Rica drew her legs up and sat sideways in the chair with her feet tucked beneath her. “You’re in no shape to travel or defend yourself. If they come back, they’ll kill you.”

“If they wanted to kill me, they would have last night.”

“Maybe,” Rica said. “But I’m not willing to take the chance.”

“You didn’t feel that way yesterday morning.”

“This isn’t about you and me,” Rica said sharply. “If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t hire thugs to beat you. I’d hunt you down and shoot you myself.”

Despite the fact that she hurt more than she’d imagined possible in every bone of her body, Carter laughed. “I believe you.”

“Good.” Rica regarded Carter intently, ridiculously relieved that she was awake and seemed stronger. She’d watched her sleep for hours, irrationally terrified that she’d stop breathing. She wondered if she’d ever be able to get the image of Carter lying in her own blood out of her mind. “Do you know who did this?”

“I might recognize one of the voices, given a little time. Head’s too fuzzy just yet.” At Rica’s expression of alarm, Carter added quickly, “It wasn’t Enzo. Him I would know.” Very carefully, she inched her way up until she was sitting upright against the pillows. It didn’t register in her still slightly befuddled mind that the sheets had fallen away, leaving her chest exposed. “I’m pretty certain it was someone I met…doing business.”

“My father’s people,” Rica said tonelessly. And now she knew the answers to so many of her questions. What her father was capable of. What price her loyalty would exact. What toll love would demand. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t what I wanted to happen. I never wanted you hurt.”

Carter considered the words. “You told your father.”

“Yes. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“No,” Carter said quietly. “I thought you would.”

“And still you told me. Why?”

“I told you the reason.”

Rica laughed bitterly. “Because you love me.”

“Yes.” When Rica looked away, Carter said, “It might not have been your father.”

“Enzo would have killed you,” Rica said.

“Not necessarily. I’m not certain Enzo has the clout to order a hit on his own. I doubt your father wants that kind of attention drawn to him or any of his people. Chances are Enzo just wanted to teach me a lesson. Or teach you one.”

“Then he would have sent them after me.”

“No. He’d never do anything so blatant. Your father would kill him and he knows it. He’s probably regretting the marks he left on your face right about now, believe me.” Just thinking about Enzo striking Rica made Carter’s heart hammer with rage. Jesus, she still wanted to kill him. “You wouldn’t tell your father about the sexual assaults…” At Rica’s sound of protest, Carter said harshly, “That’s what they were, Rica. He knew you wouldn’t go to your father with that, but bruises can’t be hidden.”

“He’s never hit me before. Now I understand why.”

“How did you know to look for me?”

“A photograph.” Rica closed her eyes. “Someone sent me a photograph of you lying…” in your own blood. “Unconscious.”

“Let me see it.”

Even though she never wanted to see it again, and would never need to, not with the image so clearly branded in her memory, Rica went downstairs to retrieve it. It still lay on the floor next to the envelope. For the first time, Rica realized there was a message scrawled on the envelope. The photograph had been so horrific it was the only thing she had been able to see.

“I think you might be right,” Rica said, handing the envelope to Carter.

Carter read the message, Next time, say yes. Then held out her hand. “Where’s the photo? Hand it to me by the edges.”

Rica hesitated.

“I’m not going to put it on the record, Rica. Jesus. But it would be good if we know who Enzo’s using to threaten you. I doubt there are any prints, but we can check.”

“If this was Enzo’s way of warning you away from me,” Rica said, passing Carter the Polaroid, “or showing me what would happen if I refused him again, you could still be in danger from my father. He may want you…out of the way…for completely different reasons.” She stared around the room as if expecting someone to burst through one of the doors at any second, then rose and walked to the dresser. She took out her Beretta and returned to the chair.

“I’m going to pretend I don’t see that.” Carter slid the photo into the envelope and set it on the bedside table. “Eject the clip and stash that somewhere.”

“You don’t give me orders, Carter.”

“What are you going to do, Rica? Shoot someone?” Carter leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Did you tell your father I was a cop?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him my name?”

“No.”

Carter opened her eyes. “What exactly did you tell him?”

“I tried to warn him that he’d been betrayed, but I got the feeling that he already knew.”

Rizzo. He must know Rizzo is missing by now, so he figures he’s turned. Carter said nothing, but she thought it possible that Pareto knew nothing of her involvement.

Rica didn’t want to, but she asked a question she been thinking about for twenty-four hours. She didn’t know why it mattered, but it did. “Is Carter Wayne really your name?”

“Carter’s my first name, but Wayne is my grandmother’s name. You won’t find a cop officially listed by the name of Carter Wayne, if you or anyone else goes looking.”

Rica didn’t care what Carter’s last name was. She was just absurdly glad that the name she had screamed in her mind…or was it out loud?…when this woman had been inside her was the truth. “And the part about being a lawyer?”

“True.”

“The place in town?”

“I really own it.”

Relieved, and irritated that any of it mattered, Rica snapped, “Would you mind very much covering up?”

“What?” Carter looked down and realized for the first time that she was bare to her hips. “Oh.”

“Thank you,” Rica said, relieved when Carter drew up the sheet, as if that would erase the image of Carter’s body from her mind. Carter was beautiful. Firm upright breasts, defined arms and shoulders, and a long tapered waist beneath arching ribs that called out for a caress. She had felt that body through her clothes, sensed the power of it by watching her move, but she hadn’t expected the graceful combination of femininity and strength. She wanted to touch her, and reminded herself of all the reasons why she couldn’t.

“I’m in no shape to make a pass,” Carter said gently.

“How much does it hurt?” Rica hated the purple discoloration that spread over Carter’s ribs from just below her left breast to her navel. She hated the person who had put that mark there even more.

“I’ll live.”

“That’s convenient, because I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

“Nothing is going to happen, but even if it did, you’re not responsible.”