"God, I am so out of my league with you."

She laughed.

They danced to Tim McGraw singing "When The Stars Go Blue," dragging their eyes away from each other's faces to search the dance floor for anyone who might be Sheldon Barnes. After, they sipped their drinks and talked at the bar.

"Tell me about your family," he asked her.

"I have a very normal, boring family. My dad is a doctor and my mom is an interior designer. She wanted to be an artist, but decided a career as a designer was more practical. I have two brothers, both younger than me. Brett is twenty-six and Jason is twenty-three. They were both extremely annoying pests when we were little, but now they're okay." She grinned. "Brett is almost finished medical school. Jason works for IBM."

"Very solid upper middle class."

"Absolutely. I'm very lucky. We have a lot of fun when we get together." She peered at him. "Why won't you tell me about your family?"

He looked at the beer glass with the inch of warm beer he was nursing. "We're kind of estranged," he said finally. "My parents and my sister felt sorry for me after what happened, and I just couldn't handle their pity. So I just stay away from them. For now."

"But someday you'll reconcile with them. Right?"

He shrugged. "I guess so."

"Family's important."

"Hey, I know it," he said. "Especially now, I know it. But shit happens."

"Are you waiting for one of them to make the first move?" Her voice was warm with curiosity.

He thought about that. Did he want his mom or his sister to hunt him down, force him to see them? Not really. "No."

"Then you're going to make the first move."

He glared at her. "You don't know what you're talking about."

He saw the hurt in her eyes the minute the words left his lips and regretted it. "I'm sorry," he apologized immediately. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"I don't know what I'm talking about because you won't tell me," she snapped back at him. "You're too macho to talk about your feelings, to tell me what happened to split your family up."

"I'm not macho," he protested. "I'm just not ready to talk about it."

"You made me talk about my issues," she reminded him, challenging him.

"I know." Now he felt bad. But not bad enough to spill his guts and tell Marli what a screw-up he was. In his work and his personal life. And how he'd cost her best friend her life. "If I was going to talk to anyone, I'd talk to you," he said softly, repeating her words to him.

A reluctant smile played about her mouth.

"I guess I'll take that." She shook her head at him. "For now. At least tell me...both your parents are still living?"

"Yes."

"And you have a sister."

"Yes."

"That's it?"

He paused. "And...and a brother."

"You're the oldest, aren't you?"

He looked at her warily. "How'd you know that?"

"'Cause you're so bossy," she said sweetly.

"You're the oldest, too," he pointed out.

She grinned. "I know." She swirled the ice in her glass. "So what do they all do?"

"My dad's a cop. Surprise, surprise. Mom stayed at home. She worked part-time from home doing the books for some small businesses. My sister is now a lawyer."

"And...your brother?"

Is an asshole, he thought. Pain shot through him, but it wasn't like it used to be. That unbearable, agonizing feeling of betrayal was, amazingly, fading. "He's a computer hardware expert. He has his own business and goes around defragging people's hard drives or something."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Why're you mad at him?"

He shot her a sharp look. "What makes you think I'm mad at him?"

"Intuition. Gut instinct. The look on your face when you talk about him."

"How about those Padres?" he asked and was relieved when she laughed.

By one o'clock, Marli was yawning behind her hand and Trey was frustrated. "I guess we pack it in for tonight," he growled into her ear. "Here's the part I really don't like. We have to leave separately."

He saw her tighten her lips. "That's okay." Determination hardened her voice. She tossed some bills on the bar to pay for her meager bar bill, enough to include a generous tip for the poor bartender who'd brought her two Diet Cokes.

"Go to your car," he instructed her. "Drive home. I'll be right behind you." He looked around the bar. "I'll go first," he muttered. "Stay here for five minutes."

Shit, shit, shit. Again, he hated leaving her there. But there'd been no sign of Barnes, so he'd be better off outside, waiting in his vehicle to watch her leave.

His SUV, unfortunately, was parked four vehicles in front of hers, so he had to watch for her out the back window. He tried to stay low in case anyone else was watching. He looked around. Damn. This street hadn't been so dark and deserted earlier in the evening.

He waited impatiently for Marli, heart thumping slow and strong in his chest. Then he saw her. She was walking quickly to her car along the deserted sidewalk.

Son of a bitch. His heart jumped into his throat and he almost choked.

Chapter 11

A shadow had emerged from the alley behind the bar, sticking close to the buildings. Trey threw open the door and tried to jump out, twisting awkwardly because he'd been facing backward.

"Marli!" he shouted, reaching for the gun at his back. The shadowy figure stopped, turned toward him, hands raised and outstretched. The bastard had a gun, too.

Trey dove over the hood of his vehicle as a bullet popped, then ripped into the fender. He rose up and took aim, pausing only to ensure Marli was away from his line of sight. He heard Marli scream his name.

"Marli, get down!" he shouted, and squeezed the trigger. It was dark and it was a long shot and...

The guy turned and ran. "Not this time, you sonofabitch," he muttered as he scrambled around the hood of the SUV and ran towards Marli. She leaned on her car, hand on her chest, eyes huge and frightened.

"You okay?" he demanded, skidding to a stop. Adrenaline rushed through his veins.

"I'm okay. Are you okay? Trey, my God..."

"I'm okay...I'm going after him."

"No..."

He was gone, running before she even got the word out. He spared a moment's thought for the fact he was leaving her alone again. The two gunshots didn't even attract any attention from people in the area, which was pretty scary. You'd think people would come running.

Thoughts ran through his mind as he raced along the sidewalk, around the corner and stopped. Gone. Disappeared into thin air. Unless he'd gone back into the bar. Fuck, no.

Barnes had a gun. Now he was really dangerous--and in a crowded bar.

Trey debated, his mind a whirling jumble of thoughts. Then he grabbed his cell phone and called 911.

He turned and jogged back to Marli, shivering in her car with the doors locked.

"Attagirl," he murmured when she opened the door for him. She leaped out and into his arms.

"Trey, God, Trey, he shot at you." She ran her hands over his body urgently. "Oh, my God."

"I'm okay," he murmured, pulling her close. He juggled gun and cell phone. "We need to get out of here."

"Yes. Yes."

"My vehicle." He led her up the street. He drove quickly to his hotel, constantly checking to make sure they weren't being followed.

"This is insane," she said, teeth chattering again as they went up in the elevator.

"Cops will likely be here soon." He let her into the room. Once the door closed behind them, he took her in his arms again and held her tightly. "Jesus, Marli, I thought I was having a heart attack. Did you know he was behind you?"

"No." She shook her head quickly. "I heard you yell and the next thing I know he's shooting. God, Trey, I was afraid he killed you."

"He dinged my new car, goddamn it."

She stared at him, then grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him, desperately, urgently. He kissed her back, just as frantically, hands going up and down her back as if to assure himself she was there, unharmed.


That was it. That was the last time. He wasn't an idiot. They'd really be looking for him now. Fuck. He knew they could never catch him, he was way above that, but he also knew when to cut his losses. He was out of here.

Anyway, staying here to punish Marli wasn't really part of his plans. He had bigger things to do.

Why did Mr. Big-and-Tall keep showing up? And why the hell did he have a gun? That wasn't supposed to happen. They'd sat there all night, wasting time, dancing, gazing into each other's eyes. When the guy'd finally left her sitting there alone, excitement rose and adrenaline kicked in. "Last chance, last chance," he'd chanted as he followed her.

Laura was probably looking for him, but who cared. He was done there now. He had a pocketful of money that would keep him going for a while.

He gathered up his meager belongings and left the motel. He checked the money in his pocket. He'd made a fair bit on tips tonight, so he could afford to take a cab. He directed the driver to the Honky Tonk Bar and Grill, just on the outskirts of town.

The place was hopping and he soon spotted just what he wanted. She was young, blonde and alone. Not exactly pretty, nothing like Marli, but she looked kind of sad and lonely.

"Hey, gorgeous," he said with a friendly smile. "Can I buy you a drink?"


The police and the two FBI special agents they'd met earlier arrived at the hotel to take statements. Again.

"I'm getting so tired of this," Marli said wearily. She looked at Trey. "When is it going to end? I don't know how much more I can take."

"Something's going on with him," Trey said with irritation. "This isn't his usual behavior."

"Why is he doing this to me?"

Trey scowled. "Well, because you're blonde for one thing."

"Why?" she demanded. "Why are all his victims blonde?"

"His mother is blonde," Trey replied. "They have a...difficult relationship. Plus, I think it's because you laughed at him when he told you he was a cowboy."

"Huh?"

He recalled his conversation with Sheldon's brother and told Marli and the other FBI agents about it.

"I went to see his brother Peter when I was investigating Kathy Richards' murder."

Special Agent Burrows nodded. "It's in the file."

Trey continued, for Marli's benefit. "Peter's blonde and good-looking like Sheldon, except he looks rough, like he's been through hell. Life of crime, like Sheldon. Apparently, Sheldon was a hyper kid. Peter thought he probably had ADD or ADHD, said he was always acting out, running around, bouncing off the walls."


Brawley, California


Seven months earlier


"Drove the rest of your family crazy?" Trey asked Peter.

"Oh, yeah. Especially my mama. She gets pretty stressed herself. One time, she locked him in the closet in his bedroom just to keep him quiet and out of her way. She left him there for two days. Another time she almost drowned him, she was so pissed because he was fooling around in the tub and splashing water all over the floor. She held his head under water, and he was choking so much, I thought he was gonna die."

Trey's gut clenched, listening to the stories of emotional and physical abuse.

"One time when he was bigger, and she could hardly hold him down, she tied him up. Tied his wrists to the bed. His wrists were bleeding, he tried so hard to get away.

"Sheldon was always gettin' into trouble at school," Peter continued. "That's why he dropped out so early. Started drinkin' and doin' drugs when he was only, like, eleven or twelve. But it was never his fault. Mama would go to school and try to find out who was giving him a hard time."

"If he was in trouble all the time, it must have been at least partly his fault."

Peter laughed shortly. "It was always his fault," he said. "He never could take responsibility, and Mama was just like that, too. Someone else was getting her little boy in trouble."

"Tell me about his wife."

"Teresa," Peter replied. "They sure weren't married long. He knocked her up when she was still in high school, but she left before the baby was even born. Actually, I heard she had twins, boys. Sheldon was beatin' on her and that's why she took off. I don't even know where she lives now, and she probably likes it that way."