In a futile attempt to ease the tension, Birdie joked, “You got that right. You ever meet Margie’s brother Melvin?”

“Anyway, what could be so terrible about Thanksgiving dinner at your sister’s place? Where’s she live? Someplace up in Georgia, right? Hey-if you think the drive’s too much for you, we can take the plane-no problem. ”

Birdie turned around and comically arched his eyebrows at Jake. “No problem.” Jake lifted a hand and hissed at him to shut up, which Birdie didn’t take personally. “Relax,” he said, “looks like she’s pulled it out okay.”

“Yeah,” said Jake, “like she’s tiptoeing through a damn minefield.”

“Sonny, you have no idea. It’s at Bella‘s-that means her husband’s whole family is gonna be there. Kids everywhere-a dozen, at least. A bunch of guys playing football on the front lawn. Granny Calhoun’ll probably put a curse on you.”

“What’re you talkin’ about? Sounds like a blast.”

“Oh, God…Sonny, are you sure?”

“Hey, baby… like I said. It’s Thanksgiving-you should be with family. Y tu familia es mi familia. Right, baby? Yeah… ”

Again they listened to the water music. Jake stared at the floor and folded his arms across his chest to hold himself still. God, how he hated the silences. Without words to set the scene for him, his mind insisted on painting its own pictures. How could it not? If he were in that hot tub, with that woman, he knew what he’d be doing.

“So, tell me more about this therapy. Massage, you said?”

“Sonny… ” And suddenly her voice had gone breathless and panicky. The hair on the back of Jake’s neck stood up; tension stiffened his legs and straightened his back.

“Wha-at? You used to love it when I gave you a back rub. Now you don’t even want me to touch you?”

Heat exploded in the pit of Jake’s belly and raced through his entire body. He could feel it burning in his face, in the backs of his eyeballs, in the palms of his hands. He discovered that he was alternately rubbing his palms with his fingers, then curling them into fists… remembering the feel of Eve’s tender muscle, smooth and springy beneath his fingertips… imagining the fleshy parts of Cisneros’s face bursting beneath his knuckles…

“It’s not that… at least-”

“What, then? I gotta tell you, Evie, I’m startin’ to wonder if that damn mugger did something more to you than just hit you on the head. ”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“Jeez, baby, it’s not like he raped you or anything…”

Birdie made a disgusted noise. “Mr. Sensitivity.”

“No! Of course not. But…oh, I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. It’s still a violation, and it’s hard to get my… confidence back. It just takes time, I guess.”

“So, in the meantime, I’m supposed to be like, what-your brother? Hell, I’d just like to sleep in the same bed with you-what’s wrong with that? You won’t even let me do that.”

Jake reined himself in with the sheer force of his willpower. He had to force himself to listen. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. Every second, every word was torture. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before-one minute wired and burning, twitchy with the urge to punch the hell out of something, or someone, the next minute cold and clammy and feeling like he was one deep breath away from puking. And weirdest of all, underlying both of those, there was this pressure behind his temples and in his belly…

What had he done? What had he been thinking of, to send the woman into a situation like this?

“Sonny, what do you think, I’m made of stone? If you touch me it’s just going to make us both crazy, don’t you see that?”

Her voice was rapid and breathless. Too eager, Jake thought. Too desperate. How could Cisneros help but hear it?

“I think it’s easier if we just… you, know, keep our distance. Just… don’t think about it.”

“Easy for you to say… ”

“If we keep busy, the time is going to go by… Sonny? What’s the matter? Where are you going?”

“Cold shower, that’s where I’m going…gonna make me crazy…”

As the grumbling voice faded into the gurgle and chuckle of the water, Jake let go of the breath he’d been holding for what seemed like a week and began to swear.

His partner, on the other hand, was laughing. Birdie wiped a hand across his brow and said, “Hoo boy, is it hot in here, or is it just me?”

Jake drove a hand through his hair and turned away, muttering, “This isn’t funny. I’ve gotta get her out of there. It’s too damn dangerous…gotta get her out of there now.”

Birdie, reaching for the pizza box, looked at him in surprise. “Why? She handled herself like a pro.”

“He’s suspicious as hell.”

“You don’t know that. Sounded like normal reactions to me. Hell, I’d be upset if my bride-to-be was all of a sudden off-limits. Damn, if it was anybody but Cisneros, I’d almost have to feel sorry for the guy.”

Jake swore. “You heard her-he’s trying to isolate her.”

“What, you mean the therapy? That’s also a pretty normal response. Guy’s got more money than God, he could outfit his own health club if he wanted to.”

“If he gets her where we can’t get at her-”

“Hey, she nipped it in the bud, didn’t she? Sounds to me like she knows how to handle the guy pretty well. We just have to back off and give her some time. You said yourself-he wants something from her. Okay, so sooner or later he’s gonna tip his hand. And he’s not going to do anything before then. Until he gets what he wants-”

“Family…” Jake growled the word, straightening slowly, stretching to ease the tension out of his neck and back muscles. “Her family-that’s what he wants from her. More specifically, her sister-Summer, the ex Mrs. Hal Robey. He still thinks she’s got ’em-the files Robey stole from him. He’s using Eve to get close enough to her sister to find those files-remember? He said so himself, in that conversation she overheard.”

Birdie rocked back in his chair. “Then what’s she doing-?”

Jake interrupted him, swearing with quiet fury. “She’s trying to protect them. She’s trying to keep Cisneros away from her family. Probably thinks she can get something on him without getting them involved again. Damn.”

His partner shrugged. “Maybe she can.”

Jake was trying to pace in the confined space of the van. “Cisneros isn’t stupid. Sooner or later he’s gonna figure it out-hell, probably already has. He’s just biding his time. Look-we’ve gotta get her out of there. It’s too big a risk. I think we should bring her in while we still can.”

“We can run it by Coffee, I guess.” Birdie paused in the middle of a stretch to shake his head doubtfully. “But I think you’re being premature. Man, I don’t get this. I don’t get you. You’ve been trying to nail this guy for how long? Five years? Six? You say this Waskowitz woman is the key, the break you’ve been waiting for. You set this up. Now you want to call it off before you’ve even given it a chance? If I didn’t know better-” He broke off, and both men stared at the microphone.

“What in the hell is that?” Birdie looked sideways at Jake, who for some reason couldn’t think of anything to say. “That isn’t…tell me that’s not Bessie Smith.”

Jake cleared his throat. “I, uh…gave her a tape. For her…you know, for her, uh…birthday.”

“Oh, Lord… Lord Almighty.” Birdie rocked back in his chair and stared at Jake as if he were indeed the Second Coming. “I’m beginning to see-yes, I’m beginning to understand now.” His tone was awed, but his eyes were positively gleeful. Jake had to resist the temptation to tip him over backward. “You are starting to care for this woman! Don’t tell me you’re not.”

“Sure I care,” Jake said reasonably. “She’s a nice lady.”

“Uh-uh-don’t give me that. Long as I’ve known you you’ve cared about one thing-bringing down Cisneros. At any cost. You are as a brother to me, you know that, and I know you’ll forgive me when I say this, but you are a little nutty where this man is concerned. This is the first time I’ve ever known you to put something-or someone-else ahead of that priority.”

Jake waved that angrily away, like taking a swipe at a fly. “Yeah, well this is the first time I’ve been responsible for sending a civilian into harm’s way, too.”

Birdie, who could be every bit as annoying as a fly when he wanted to be, just smiled. “Jake…Jake. I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’d send your own mother undercover if you thought it would get you Cisneros’s head on a pike, but I imagine just about anybody else would be fair game. No, son…no. That’s not what’s going on here. Hot damn-” he rubbed his hands together briskly, then helped himself to a slice of tepid pizza “-I do believe it’s finally happened. Wait’ll I tell Margie.” He bit into the pizza while offering the box to Jake. “Not bad. Care for some?”

Jake shook his head; for some reason he’d lost his appetite. He was staring at the microphone, transfixed by a new voice, an unexpectedly full and throaty voice-not Bessie’s-which was at that moment crooning a familiar blues standard. He thought, She can sing. I’ll be damned.

“Kidding aside…” Birdie’s voice came to him softly, and with a steely edge of warning. “My friend, happy as I am that this has happened to you, your timing’s way off. This is bound to affect your judgment. Already has. If you can’t see that…”

Jake rubbed at his burning eyes and nodded. He could see that. He could see a lot of things. That was the problem. He could see Eve with Sonny Cisneros’s hands all over her…caressing that creamy skin as he fastened a pearl choker around her slender throat. And he could see those same hands on that same throat, choking the life out of it. Not that it would happen that way. Cisneros wouldn’t soil his own hands with murder. He’d have his men do it. And maybe, since he supposedly cared about this woman, this one time he’d tell them to do it quick.

“I need to talk to her,” he growled. “Tell her she’s got to quit fooling around, quit trying to keep Sonny away from her sister. I want this over. Capish?”

“Yeah,” said his partner gently, “I believe I do.”


Eve’s first appointment with her “physical therapist” had been set for Friday. As the day approached, she felt like a six-year-old counting the days until her birthday party. Who would be there? Her hair was a mess. What should she wear? She had Sergei drive her to town so she could buy workout clothes.

“Whadaya need those for? It’s not like you’re gonna be doing anything physical,” Sonny pointed out. He’d been noticeably cranky since the Jacuzzi episode.

“I want to fit in,” Eve calmly explained. “Plus, I like them. I think they look sexy.”

“Yeah, they do,” Sonny grumbled, “for all the good that does anybody.”

While she was at it, she went to a salon and had her hair trimmed. She got hair clippings all down inside the collar, which itched like fire until she was able to get home and take it off. Then she had them in her bed instead.

“What’re you so excited about this physical therapy stuff for?” Sonny wanted to know.

“One step closer to getting my life back,” Eve answered fervently, and watched with satisfaction as the lines of suspicidn in Sonny’s face softened into sympathy.

The key to undercover work, she’d discovered, was to tell the truth whenever possible.

Even so-and whether out of suspicion or genuine interest she couldn’t be certain-Sonny insisted on accompanying her to her first therapy session. At least, thanks to the bugs, she knew Sonny’s presence wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone.

She did her best to throttle back her anticipation. After all, she told herself, Jake might not even be there. To avert suspicion, the therapy sessions were scheduled for three times a week, because that was what would be expected for her type of “injury,” not because there was any real need for her to check in that often. Would Jake come himself unless there was something he needed to talk to her about? And it had only been a few days since she’d seen him. She told herself he wouldn’t be there. Of course he wouldn’t. She’d gotten all worked up-not to mention prettied up-for nothing.

So it came as something of a shock to her when she walked into the Body Shop and there was Jake in sweatpants and tank top, pounding the daylights out of a punching bag.

Not like it was anything that obvious. She was checking in at the lobby desk, which was situated behind a curving counter in front of a wall of glass overlooking the main workout room, the purpose of which, she assumed, was to give visitors a view of the club’s sumptuous facilities so that they’d be enticed to join. While the beefy young man on duty at the desk was on the phone, Eve watched an interesting assortment of sweaty people of varying ages, genders and degrees of fitness pumping away on stationary bicycles, stairchmbers, rowing machines and Nautilus equipment.