off her back if she could have. To catch her killers? It’s a small price to pay.”
Her wary expression softened. “She was one lucky lady. I hope you get them.”
Michael nodded, though he knew Maggie hadn’t been lucky at all. She’d loved him and had died knowing she didn’t own Michael’s heart. Nothing he ever did could make up for the pain he’d caused her.
But maybe, if he caught and punished her killers, he’d finally be free to love with his whole being. Without any lingering reservations.
And maybe he’d deserve for the two people he loved most to love him back.
Katrina was peering at a pinhole camera, wrestling with the tiny device to get it properly installed in a ballpoint pen, when her cell phone chirped a greeting from its spot on her worktable. Gingerly, she laid down the small parts of her project and bit down on a spurt of annoyance. Why did the phone always ring when she was in the middle of the most delicate tasks?
Looking at the display, however, jump-started her pulse.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” he said shortly. “I’m bringing in an old VHS tape of questionable quality that supposedly contains important footage. Can you transfer it to digital and enhance it?”
“Of course I can. You’re bringing it now?”
“Yes.”
His tone was off. Something was wrong. “What’s on the tape?”
“When I get there.”
With that, he disconnected. Scowling at her phone, she did the same. Sometimes working with a boss who was also your lover wasn’t all fun and games. She was just reaching for the fake pen again when the phone rang a second time. “Dammit. Hello?”
“It’s Blaze,” he said. “Has Michael called you?”
“He just did,” she said in a tone that betrayed her irritation. “He wants me to copy and enhance some old tape. Where are you?”
“I went with them to find this tape. I’m riding in a different car than Michael, and we’re on our way back. Has he given you any details about it?”
“No, and I’d appreciate if you let me know what the hell is going on.”
“The footage is from a security camera positioned outside a gas station and allegedly shows his wife’s murder.”
Stunned, Katrina fell back in her chair. “How did you guys get this tape?”
“Long story. The thing is, one of our prisoners downstairs tipped us off, and he claims Maggie’s death was a hit, not a random mugging, and that the film will support his claim.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Yeah. Michael’s putting up a badass front, but I know the man. He’s one thread away from completely unraveling the sweater.”
“And if it’s true…”
“He’s gonna lose his shit.”
“I hate to say this because Michael’s going to be pissed, but I think Bastian needs to be here,” she suggested.
“As long as he’s well enough to come, I agree. Besides, he’s going to be ticked if he finds out Michael had to see what went down on this tape and we didn’t tell him so he could be there.”
“True. Okay, I’ll call him. I know he’ll come.”
“Good. See you soon.”
Quickly, she placed another call. Bastian answered on the second ring. “Hey, are you busy?”
He made a noise. “Sure. I’m sitting by the pool watching John swim naked, after which he’s going to rise from the waves like a sea god, come over here, and have his nasty way with me. Not.”
Any other time, she would’ve laughed at his apparent boredom and teased him about the fantasy scene. “Are you feeling well enough to take a ride to the compound?”
“Are you kidding? I’m about to fossilize here. When do you need me?”
“Now.” After she finished explaining what was going on, he reacted pretty much the same as she had.
“Oh, Christ. I’ll be there soon. Don’t let them start that tape without me.”
“I won’t. I’ve got to transfer it to digital, anyway, so there’s plenty of time.”
“Okay. ’Bye, sweetheart.”
Michael and his three top agents arrived minutes later, her lover handing over the tape. His eyes were anxious, haunted. She couldn’t work with him and the others hovering, looking like accident victims, and she waved a hand at the group.
“Wait here if you want. I’m going to take this to my office, and I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
Without waiting for their protests, she disappeared into her office, praying Bastian was there by the time she was ready. No sense in prolonging this more than necessary.
At her desk, she stuck the tape into an old VCR and prepared to work her computer magic. Transferring the film wasn’t really difficult, though. No, that part came when she had to enhance the images of Maggie Ross’s murder in cold blood.
A hit. Not a mugging. Just as they’d been told by the prisoner below.
This was going to kill Michael. Grabbing a tissue from the box on her desk, she dabbed her eyes. She had to be composed before she went out there again. Not only for Michael, but for all three of them. Michael’s seeing this would either tear them all apart or bring them closer than ever. A turning point.
With the video saved to her computer, there was nothing left to do but bring them in. Standing, she went to get them. To her relief, Bastian had arrived and was sitting, holding his crutches, next to Michael. Michael’s expression was closed off, and everyone else’s anxious.
“I was just telling Bastian how good he’s getting around, hardly needing those anymore,” Blaze remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m doing a ton better, ready to come back when the doc clears me. I’m hardly sore at all.”
Bless his heart, he was trying, too. Unfortunately, their efforts fell on deaf ears. Michael stood and gestured toward the office.
“Are we ready?”
“Yes, but… this footage is very rough. Graphic. I wanted you to know before I play it.”
“I figured it would be.” Holding her gaze, he softened his tone. “But thank you.”
They trailed into her office like a funeral procession and crowded around the monitor. Willis produced a chair for Bastian, which he gratefully accepted. She sat down and laid her hand on the mouse, cursor hovering over the PLAY button. The one small thanks she could give was that there was no sound, only video.
The film began with Maggie walking to her car about thirty yards from the camera, a purse over one shoulder, and carrying a sack of Chinese takeout. Since the camera was positioned under the eave of the gas station’s roof, the angle was good, giving a bird’s-eye view, but not so high that faces and other details couldn’t be seen.
As the woman reached her car and pointed the little black box on her key ring to unlock it, two men approached from the right of the screen. One was a big man, holding an equally big knife.
“Holy fucking God,” Bastian breathed, face pale. “Is that…”
No one moved or responded to his unspoken question. On the screen, Maggie turned briefly to see the men and dropped the sack of food, then scrambled for the door handle. She managed to jerk it open, but the shorter of the two men slammed it closed and spun her around, her back against the side of the car.
“We never knew there were two of them,” Michael said, voice low. Strained. “Muggers don’t work in pairs, or stop to taunt their victims. They grab and run.”
And these two were definitely terrorizing her. The shorter man yanked away her purse, and the big one stepped close, holding the tip of the knife just under her sternum. It was clear he was speaking to her, but from the distance and at the angle he was standing, it might not be possible to get a transcript of the conversation.
Maggie shook her head rapidly, replying to him, her body language clear — she was begging for her life, terrified. She lunged to the side in an attempt to run, but the bigger man yanked her arm, slammed her into the car.
