The dream had felt so real

As Jenna padded to her bedroom, the dream hung around her like a cocoon, images flitting in and out, vague and muddled, but that desperate feeling of wanting, needing made her ache.

The harder she tried to remember the dream, the more it evaded her. But she could almost still feel him. His presence, his touch, his essence.

“Sexual frustration,” she said with a laugh. Her laugh sounded hollow even to her own ears.

The warmth of him, lying in his arms, his touch arousing her in ways—

She stopped, staring down at the bed. Her body turned to ice. Her heart began to pound erratically.

There were two impressions in the down-covered mattress. One on her side where she slept. The other where someone else had lain next to her.

When Twilight Comes
B.J. Daniels

www.millsandboon.co.uk

When I decided to become a writer I just wanted to tell stories. I’d never met a writer, knew nothing about the business or the blessings that come with it. One of the greatest gifts I have realized is the friendship of other writers. This book is dedicated to two of the best: Amanda Stevens and Joanna Wayne.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

A former award-winning journalist, B.J. Daniels had thirty-six short stories published before her first romantic suspense, Odd Man Out, came out in 1995. Her book Premeditated Marriage won Romantic Times Best Intrigue award for 2002 and she received a Career Achievement Award for Romantic Suspense. B.J. lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, three springer spaniels, Zoey, Scout and Spot, and a temperamental tomcat named Jeff. She is a member of Kiss of Death, the Bozeman Writer’s Group and Romance Writers of America. When she isn’t writing, she snowboards in the winter and camps, water-skis and plays tennis in the summer. To contact her, write: P.O. Box 183, Bozeman, MT 59771 or look for her online at: www.bjdaniels.com.

CAST OF CHARACTERS

Jenna Dante—Is it just an accident that she ended up at the isolated hotel at the end of the road while running to protect her daughter?

Lexi Dante—Jenna’s precocious four-year-old.

Harry Ballantine—The con man has one chance to make up for his past. But he didn’t count on that chance involving a woman like Jenna Dante.

Lorenzo Dante—No one took from him and lived to tell about it. Especially his ex-wife, Jenna.

Raymond Valencia—The crime boss broke his cardinal rule—he got involved with the wrong woman.

Rose Garcia—She thought she had her life under control…. That was before Fernhaven.

Charlene Palmer—She knew the value of friendship.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

Seattle, Washington

Jenna Dante ran her fingers down the cold steel barrel of the gun in her jacket pocket as she parked in the darkest part of the estate.

Through the trees, she stared at the second floor bedroom window, willing the light to go out.

It took everything in her to wait another twenty minutes after it finally did so. Then she picked up the crowbar from the seat next to her and, making sure the dome light was turned off, slipped from the car.

Because she would be carrying a heavy load when she left, she’d taken the service road, parking at the back entry closest to the house.

The hired help had gone home hours ago. Lorenzo didn’t like anyone staying on the estate at night. That was because he didn’t want any witnesses.

The gun weighed down her pocket as she moved stealthily through the trees and darkness toward the servants’ entry. She’d worn all black, and had picked this entrance because it was the farthest from the main part of the house.

At the door she pulled out the ring of keys, thinking she would have to use the crowbar. But the key she chose fit in the back door lock and turned. She stared down at it, surprised that she could still be shocked by Lorenzo’s arrogance. He’d been so sure she would never use her keys that he hadn’t even bothered to have the locks changed?

Or was he expecting her?

She froze, her pulse drumming in her ears.

With the crowbar in one hand, she turned the knob and pushed open the door. He hadn’t reset the security system when he’d come home, either.

She felt a chill race up her spine as she stood in the rear entryway, fighting to calm her nerves. Desperation had brought her here. Desperation and anger. She drew on the anger now, reminding herself of everything Lorenzo Dante had done to her. He had taken her dignity, her innocence, her confidence. He’d hurt her every way possible. But this time he’d gone too far. This time he’d taken the one thing she couldn’t let him get away with, no matter what happened here tonight.

She stood listening for a moment, then slowly closed the door and put down the crowbar. The arrogance that had kept him from changing the locks and turning on the security system would be his downfall, she told herself. Better to believe that than consider he didn’t even see her as a threat.

The thought brought a fresh surge of anger. She needed it desperately if she hoped to succeed. Fear was a weakness, one she couldn’t afford. Not tonight. But anyone who didn’t fear Lorenzo Dante was a fool, and Jenna was no longer a fool.

Cautiously she crept up the stairs to the second floor. The carpet was soft and deep, her footsteps silent. She stopped near the top. She could hear music playing in the living room. Classical music. Lorenzo must be in one of his moods. He tried to forget his humble beginnings by pretending he was a man of breeding.

But during their marriage, Jenna had noticed that he played classical music when he was trying to convince himself he was somebody, that he wasn’t just some thug who’d made a lot of money illegally, that he didn’t have enemies who were more powerful than he was.

Tonight he must be feeling vulnerable.

The thought surprised and scared her. He was more dangerous when he was like this. She wondered why he was in this mood. He should have been on top of the world. After all, he’d struck another blow against her, one that he knew would destroy her.

Something was going on, she realized. Something to do with the business? Or her?

At the top of the stairs she looked down the long hallway. The door to the room she was most interested in was closed. Her fingers itched to open it and slip inside.

But first she had to know where Lorenzo was.

She pulled the gun from her pocket and crept down the hall, noticing that the door to the master bedroom was open.

Another piece of music came on. Over it, she heard the rattle of ice cubes in fine crystal. She felt another jolt of concern. Lorenzo was making himself a drink? Something was definitely going on.

Moving silently along the thick carpet, she crept to the landing at the top of the stairs that overlooked the living room. She gripped the gun tighter in her hand as she held her breath and peeked over the railing.

Lorenzo stood in front of the fireplace with his back to her. He held a drink in his hand, his gaze apparently on the fire, an anxious set to his shoulders.

He was a large man. Just the thought of his big hands on her made her stomach roil. Her finger skittered over the trigger of the gun as she raised it and sighted down the barrel, pointing it right where his heart should have been.

You can’t kill him. Not in cold blood.

She wasn’t so sure about that. Not after five years with Lorenzo. Not after everything he’d done to her.

She thought about him turning and seeing her, seeing the gun. She could imagine the smirk on his face, could imagine him taunting her. He wouldn’t believe she could kill him.

Even with a gun in her hand, he wouldn’t see her as a threat. He thought he knew her so well, figured she would be too afraid to come after what he’d taken from her.

But she also knew him. Maybe better than he knew her. She knew his one weakness: arrogance. He’d been so brazen to come back here—to not even try to hide from her. Because he had the courts and the police where he wanted them. Jenna had learned the hard way that she couldn’t beat him through the system.

And because of that, he thought he had Jenna where he wanted her, as well. That was her edge. That’s why she had to move fast.

She lowered the gun, sliding it back into her jacket pocket, and turning, stole down the hallway again. As she started past the master bedroom, she noticed once more that the door was open. Lorenzo’s suit jacket was lying across the bed. She slipped into the room and moved to the nightstand on Lorenzo’s side.

Reaching into the space behind the table, her fingers brushed across duct tape and cold steel. She ripped Lorenzo’s gun off the back of the stand and peeled the sticky tape from the grip.

She didn’t need to check if it was fully loaded; she knew it was. Lorenzo was meticulous about that sort of thing. But she looked, anyway. Tonight she wasn’t taking any chances.

The gun was loaded. She slid the safety off with a soft click. Pointed it at the open doorway, slipping her finger through the guard, caressing the trigger, getting the feel of the larger, heavier piece.

Then she lowered the gun, snapped the safety back on and stuck the weapon into the waistband of her black jeans, so it was covered by the tail of her jacket.

As she started to leave the room, she saw something that stopped her cold. When Lorenzo had thrown his suit jacket on the bed, something had fallen from the pocket. At first all she saw were the passports.

With trembling fingers she picked up the top one and saw Lorenzo’s photograph, but with an entirely different name.

She began to shake harder as she picked up the second passport and opened it. Tears of fury sprang to her eyes at the sight of the photograph.

Bastard. He was planning to skip the country. That’s what was up. That’s why he was feeling vulnerable tonight. His “associates” must not know his plans, because Lorenzo belonged to an organization that knew only one type of retirement program: death.

Unless he had made some kind of deal to buy his way out.

But the passports weren’t the only things that had been in his jacket pocket, she saw. She pulled out two airline tickets and had to steady herself when she saw the date Lorenzo had booked for a one-way flight to South America. Tomorrow.

Shaking furiously, she ripped up the tickets and threw them into the wastebasket beside the bed. Then she pocketed both passports and hurried down the hallway to the smaller bedroom. As she opened the door, she could see the slight rounded shape under the covers in the glow of the nightlight. Her heart lodged in her throat at the sight of her sleeping child.

Jenna eased the door closed behind her and tried to stop shaking, angrily fighting back tears.

She moved quickly to her daughter’s side. She couldn’t let Lexi see her anger. Or her fear.

The silky dark hair was spread out on the pillow, the little face that of a cherub. Lexi had one arm around her beloved rag doll, Clarice. The other was looped around the neck of her cat, Fred.

Fred looked up as Jenna stepped deeper into the room, and let out a loud meow.

Jenna hurried to the baby monitor and shut it off.

Fred blinked at her with huge golden eyes.

“Lexi,” she whispered as she knelt over the bed. “Wake up, sweetie.”

Lexi’s lashes fluttered, then suddenly flew open. Her dark eyes widened in surprise. “Mommy? Daddy wouldn’t let me see you.” Her lower lip pushed out into a pout. “He said you had gone away.”

Jenna hushed her. “It’s you and me who are going away, sweetie. But it’s a secret. We have to be very quiet, okay?”

Lexi nodded and threw back the covers as she sat up. She was wearing the little yellow ducks pj’s Jenna had bought her. The same ones she’d been wearing last night, when Lorenzo had broken into her apartment and taken Lexi.

“I need you to be very quiet,” Jenna told her daughter. “We don’t want to wake up Daddy.”

Lexi nodded and put a chubby finger to her lips. “Shh.”

Jenna picked up her daughter, hugging her tightly as she breathed in the sweet smell. Lexi felt solid in her arms. Safe. At least for the moment.

“Come on,” Jenna whispered. “Remember, we have to be really quiet, okay?”

Lexi nodded, clutching her rag doll. “Is Daddy coming with us?” she asked in a small voice.

Jenna looked at her daughter’s face. “No.” She saw the instant relief and her heart broke. “Did Daddy hurt you?”

The child shook her head, her lower lip pushed out again. “He yelled and made me cry.”

Jenna hugged her. “Well, he won’t make you cry again.” She stepped to the door of her daughter’s bedroom and started to open it.

“Fred!” Lexi cried. “I can’t leave Fred.”

Jenna groaned inwardly. She’d never been a big fan of cats. Lorenzo had bought the kitten for Lexi, knowing Jenna wasn’t allowed to have a cat in the apartment where she’d been living with Lexi since the divorce.

“Alexandria will have to come over to the house to see her cat,” Lorenzo had said.

Which meant Jenna would have to come as well, since Lorenzo only had supervised visitation. He’d gotten the cat to force Jenna back to the estate—a place she had grown to abhor.

Now she stepped back into the room and, with her free hand, picked up Fred from the bed. He complained loudly as she hooked him into the crook of her arm.

She waited until he settled down before she opened the bedroom door and glanced down the hall. Empty. She could still hear the classical music.

She crept along the back hall, then down the stairs. She was almost to the back door when she heard an approaching car coming up the service road. Was it possible Lorenzo had called for a delivery this late at night?

Moving to the window, Jenna peered out as headlights flashed. The whine of an engine rose, then died as the car pulled in directly behind hers.

No! Whoever it was had blocked her car in.

The police? Or some private patrol?

But as she peered through the blinds, she saw that it was one of Lorenzo’s “associates” who climbed out.

Franco Benito. He looked toward the house, making her step back and let the blind knock against the window frame.

She moved quickly down the hallway, stepping into the laundry room and partially closing the door. Motioning to Lexi to be quiet, she held both her daughter and the cat as the back door opened. Franco closed the door a little more forcefully than usual. She pressed herself and Lexi against the wall as the man stormed past. She caught only a glimpse of him, but he looked angry. Probably because Lorenzo had made him come to the service entry. Why had he done that?

She breathed a sigh of relief as Franco’s heavy footfalls fell silent.

How was she going to get away now, though? He’d blocked her in. And what if he mentioned her car to Lorenzo? Lorenzo would know she was in the house—and he would know exactly what she’d come for.

LORENZO DANTE FINISHED his drink and poured himself another as he tried to calm down. He glanced at the clock on the mantel, checking it against his watch.

Nine fifty-seven. Franco was twenty-seven minutes late. He hated people who weren’t punctual. People who made him wait.

He gripped the glass, anger seething inside him as he looked around the country estate, reminded of all he had accomplished—and how little respect he’d garnered. He deserved to be treated better than this. Because Franco was taking his place in the organization, did he think he didn’t have to treat him with respect? The glass shattered as he crushed it in his hand. Blood ran down his wrist and dripped to the floor.

Lorenzo stared at it in surprise, having forgotten he was even holding a glass. Opening his hand, he let the pieces tinkle to the Spanish tiles.

Two shards were stuck in his palm. With a kind of distracted fascination, he plucked them out, dropping them to the floor as he watched fresh blood run from the cuts down his wrist.

He turned at the sound of footfalls behind him. “You’re late.”

Franco Benito stopped in the middle of the floor, clearly startled by the sight of the blood and the broken wineglass.

Lorenzo smiled as he stepped to the bar and leisurely wrapped a wet cloth around his hand, all the time keeping his gaze on Franco, considering the best way to teach the two-bit thug respect for his betters—and the value of being on time.

“I’d take a drink if you haven’t broken all the glasses,” Franco said, clearly irritated himself.

Lorenzo smiled at the idiot’s attempt at humor. Franco hadn’t liked being ordered to come through the service entry. Too bad.

Without being offered a drink, Franco stepped to the bar beside Lorenzo. Franco was a good-looking guy, not really big, but strong. His one great flaw was that, because he was taking Lorenzo’s place in the organization, he thought Lorenzo was powerless against him.

Franco was so clueless. He reached behind the bar and wrapped his thick fingers around the neck of an expensive bottle of bourbon. Taking a glass—the wrong kind for bourbon—he sloshed some of the amber liquid into the expensive crystal with arrogant abandon, spilling enough fine liquor on the bar to make Lorenzo wince.

Franco turned to face him, raising his glass in a mock salute. After drinking it down, he sighed and smacked his lips, smiling at Lorenzo, almost daring him to comment as he reached for the bottle to pour himself another. After tonight, Lorenzo wouldn’t have any power in the organization. And Franco would.

But the night wasn’t over.

Lorenzo grabbed the back of Franco’s neck and slammed his face down on the bar, into the spilled booze. He heard the thug’s nose break like a twig even over the howl of pain.

“Shut up. You’ll wake my daughter,” Lorenzo snapped as blood poured from Franco’s nose, a stream of bright red.

Franco staggered as he let go of the bourbon bottle and fumbled for his weapon.

Lorenzo could feel himself losing control, and tried to pull back as he snatched the bourbon bottle off the bar and brought it down sharply, dropping the thug to his knees. It would have been so easy to finish him right there and then.

Franco had his gun in his hand, trying to find the trigger through the blood pouring down his face. With a swiftness born of survival in the dog-eat-dog, violent world Lorenzo lived in, he reached behind the bar and came up with the sawed-off shotgun.

Jamming the end of the barrel against Franco’s temple, he brushed his finger lightly over the double triggers as he met the man’s gaze. It was all Lorenzo could do to restrain himself. If he didn’t, he would definitely waken Alexandria.

Franco glared at him, clearly caught between an irrational desire for retribution and the need to stay alive.

Lorenzo watched the ignorant thug weigh his options, and smiled to himself when Franco slowly dropped his gun to the floor.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded as Lorenzo lowered the shotgun. The thug plopped into a sitting position and leaned back against the bar to cup his hand over his broken nose. “Are you crazy?”

Lorenzo put the shotgun back behind the bar and poured himself another drink, glad he hadn’t pulled the trigger. It wouldn’t have just awakened his daughter, who was sleeping upstairs, it would have added to his problems with their boss, Valencia.

After tonight, though, Lorenzo would be free of Valencia. All he had to do was keep his cool, get the money he owed Valencia and give it to Franco. Just a few more minutes and it would all be over. He would have bought his way out of the organization and would soon be on a plane to another country. A new life. What did he care if Franco was acting too cocky? Or if Valencia was determined to stay legit now and thought he could run things without him? Let Franco try to take his place.

Lorenzo downed his drink. He unwrapped his hand and tossed the bloody bar cloth on the floor next to Franco. “Clean yourself up while I check to make sure you didn’t wake my daughter.”

“Just get the money.” Franco glared up at him, then angled a look at his gun, lying on the floor within reach.

Lorenzo cut him a smile. “You’ll get the money. If you live that long.”

Franco gingerly picked up the bar rag and held it to his nose, leaning his head back, closing his eyes—disappointing Lorenzo by not going for the gun. “Valencia isn’t going to like this.”

Lorenzo considered kicking the thug, but feared he wouldn’t be able to stop once he started. He walked past him, his expensive Italian shoe brushing Franco’s calf, making the man draw his legs up and open his eyes. Lorenzo was rewarded by the fear he saw shining there. Maybe Franco wasn’t as stupid as he’d thought.

But Franco was right about one thing: Valencia wouldn’t be happy about this. Lorenzo didn’t know what had gotten into him. He’d never liked Franco, never trusted him, and he sure as hell didn’t like the idea that Valencia had picked Franco to take his place in the organization. Lorenzo didn’t like what it said about him that Valencia thought someone like Franco could replace him.

As Lorenzo climbed the stairs to Alexandria’s room, he felt his blood pressure start to come down, along with his temper. By tomorrow he would be on his way to a new life. No more Francos. No more Valencias.

And to make his new life even sweeter, he would have his daughter with him. He smiled at the thought of his ex-wife and how much pain that would cause her. Jenna deserved much worse. It would be all he could do to leave the country without killing her first. But he took pleasure in knowing Jenna would die a slow death just knowing he had Lexi, and that she would never see her daughter again.

At the top of the stairs, he glanced down the hallway, immediately on alert. The door to Alexandria’s bedroom was partially open. He was positive he’d closed it earlier. Had she gotten up for some reason? She’d been upset earlier, wanting to see her mother. He’d had to spank her to get her to quit asking for Jenna. Was it possible she’d run away, thinking she could find her way to that awful apartment Jenna had rented after the divorce?

Or had someone taken Alexandria?

His step quickened as he told himself he had to be wrong. But even before he grabbed the doorknob and turned it, he knew.

AS SOON AS JENNA WAS fairly sure that Franco wasn’t coming right back out to his car, she pushed open the laundry room door, sneaked down the hall and slipped out the rear door of the estate. She knew she wouldn’t get far on foot carrying Lexi and the cat.

“Mommy?” Lexi whispered. “I’m cold.”

“I know, baby. Hang on.” The child was growing heavy. The cat started to squirm. Jenna knew she couldn’t put Fred down. He might run off. She had to do something and fast.

She glanced toward the four-car garage. What choice did she have? She’d have to take one of Lorenzo’s vehicles.

But when she opened the side door she saw that the garage was nearly empty. Lorenzo had sold all but one car: his large black SUV.

Of course he would have sold the cars. Because he was planning to leave the country. She should have known. He’d been too calm during the divorce, too agreeable. True, she hadn’t asked him for anything but Lexi. Still, it hadn’t been like Lorenzo to give up anything that he felt was his. He’d never planned to let her get away with Lexi.

Jenna stared at the large black SUV. Lorenzo always left his keys in it, as if daring anyone to steal it. Her heart leaped at the sight of Lexi’s car seat in the back. Did she dare?

The ridiculousness of the question made her laugh. Lorenzo was going to kill her for stealing Lexi back. It wouldn’t matter what else Jenna took.

She opened the rear door, set Lexi in her seat and Fred on the floor. The cat jumped up on the back sat beside Lexi as Jenna snapped the child in, before rushing around to the driver’s side and slipping behind the wheel.

Once she opened the garage door, she would have to move fast. She reached for the key.

LORENZO DANTE LET OUT a howl of anger and pain at the sight of the empty bed, the covers thrown back, Alexandria gone.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He glanced around, checked the bathroom, ran down the hall to his bedroom. No little girl.

Letting out a string of curses, he charged into his daughter’s room and ripped the covers from the bed, whirling them into the air in a rage as he crushed the fabric in his fists the way he would crush his ex-wife’s throat when he found her.

It had to have been Jenna who took the child. Part of him still couldn’t believe it, though. Jenna knew what he would do to her. She was smart enough to fear him. He’d made sure of that as soon as they were married. He’d gotten her young so he could train her to be the wife he wanted. She’d bent to his wishes from the start, because she’d had no other choice.

Until Alexandria had been born a year later.

That’s when Jenna had started to change, he realized now. The pregnancy hadn’t been her idea. In fact, he was almost certain she was entertaining thoughts of leaving him when he’d decided to change her mind by getting her pregnant. Foolish young woman that she’d been. As if he had ever planned to let her leave him.

She’d thought he didn’t know about the birth control pills she had started secretly taking. He’d simply replaced the contraceptives with sugar pills, and was pleased when she’d quickly gotten pregnant.

He’d thought he had her exactly where he wanted her. Now she would obey him. Now that she was tied down with a baby. And it had worked for a while. He’d tried to act the loving husband and father.

But he’d learned the hard way that she, too, had been acting. He’d come home one day to find her gone. She’d filed for divorce, gotten a restraining order against him. She couldn’t have thought he would ever allow her to leave him, let alone take his daughter.

Unfortunately, he’d gotten into some trouble inside the organization and needed to keep a low profile. At Valencia’s urging, Lorenzo hadn’t fought the divorce. He’d let Jenna think she’d gotten away with it—and sole custody of Alexandria. He’d even let Valencia think he wasn’t going to cause Jenna any trouble.

But no one walked away from Lorenzo Dante. No one took anything of his, either—and lived to tell about it.

Jenna had stolen his daughter. First in court, then again tonight. Just because he’d let her think she’d gotten away with it the first time, now she thought she could do it again? He blamed Valencia for tying his hands and keeping him from taking care of Jenna right away. If he had killed her the moment she’d taken Lexi and filed for divorce, he would have saved himself a lot of aggravation.

He flung the blankets back onto the empty bed, wanting to trash the room to relieve the anger that had started building downstairs with just the thought of seeing Franco tonight. Then Franco had been late….

Lorenzo reminded himself that the thug was still downstairs. Waiting.

It would be impolite to make him wait, Lorenzo thought with grim humor.

Wanting to finish his business with Franco so he could deal with his ex-wife, Lorenzo started out of the room, then heard a car engine.

He ran to the window and looked out in time to see his black SUV come tearing out of the garage. In the glow of the garage light, he saw Jenna behind the wheel. She’d taken his car, too?

Fury tore through his veins like a grass fire in a stiff wind. What did she think she was doing?

He started to charge out of the bedroom after her, already thinking he could take one of the other cars, chase her down, run her off the road and—

He stopped as he remembered. He’d sold the other cars because he was skipping the country. Just as he’d sold the house and everything in it. Because he planned to fly out as soon as he settled up here tonight. He didn’t want any hired killers coming after him. That’s why he was buying his way out of the organization.

The realization that he wouldn’t be able to catch her hit him like a blow. He’d made Franco come to the service entry to show contempt for him and his new job. Even if he took Franco’s car, he wouldn’t be able to catch Jenna. She was on an entirely different road, was getting away, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He slammed his fist into the wall three times in quick succession. Franco called up an inquiry, which Lorenzo ignored as he tried to calm down.

That’s when he remembered. All the air rushed out of him. The money. The money to pay off Valencia. He’d left it in a duffel bag in the back of the SUV.

No! He felt his knees go weak. He had to sit down on the edge of the bed to keep from falling. The room blurred in a haze of red as his rage sent his blood pressure soaring. His money.

No, not his money. Valencia’s money. As if taking his money wasn’t bad enough, she’d taken the money he owed a man who could crush him—and would.

He’d kill her. If Valencia didn’t kill him first. Lorenzo swore and dropped his head into his hands. He’d never dreamed Jenna would come to the house and try to take Alexandria. She knew what would happen if she did. What the hell was wrong with her? The woman he’d married had been so shy and quiet, so submissive, so malleable.

Even during the divorce, Jenna hadn’t asked for a penny of his money in court, refusing even child support when the judge had tried to insist on it.

So what had happened to that woman? A woman who would never have taken his daughter, let alone his damn car, and worse, his money.

He pushed himself to his feet. He couldn’t call in his stolen car to the cops. Not with the money in the back. Nor could he send the cops after Jenna for taking their daughter. She had sole custody. Not that he’d ever put much store in handling things legally, anyway.

His hands began to shake.

He would get the money back. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was Valencia. Unfortunately, Valencia expected the money tonight. It was the reason Franco was waiting downstairs. Franco and his broken nose.

Lorenzo’s mind raced. Valencia wouldn’t believe that the money had just gone missing. Even if Lorenzo told him the truth—that Jenna had taken it along with Alexandria—Valencia wouldn’t cut him any slack.

No, the boss would be furious that Lorenzo had taken Alexandria. Valencia had ordered him not to fight the divorce, not to seek retribution. That bastard had never even shown any sympathy for what Lorenzo had been going through with Jenna. It was one of the reasons Lorenzo had decided to secretly take his daughter, settle up with the organization and leave the country. And there had been a couple of previous disagreements over money with Valencia that had already caused some bad blood between them.

Lorenzo didn’t need this.

Valencia had been willing to let him walk away from the business, from the past. But now Lorenzo might be considered a liability, someone who knew too much and couldn’t be trusted, and therefore was expendable. Valencia might feel forced to kill him.

For an instant Lorenzo thought about just taking off, skipping the country tonight, running for his life. He had a passport in a new name and enough money hidden around the country to live on for some time.

He pushed himself off the bed and hurried down the hall to his bedroom. He reached behind the nightstand on his side of the bed, instantly realizing the weapon he kept hidden there was gone.

His gaze fell on his suit jacket. He grabbed it up, knowing before he searched the pockets that the tickets and passports were gone, as well.

He wrung the garment in his hands, wanting desperately to rip it to shreds. But even before he’d found the passports missing, Lorenzo knew he wasn’t leaving the country.

Valencia would hunt him down like a rabid dog. Plus, Lorenzo knew that just the thought of Jenna getting away with not only his daughter, but also all that money, would drive him insane.

He swallowed back the bile that rose in his throat. No, he would have to stall for time until he could get the money back. But he would get it back. The money and his daughter. He could always get new plane tickets, new passports.

But he couldn’t leave without making his ex-wife regret ever being born.

“Hey?” Franco called from downstairs. “Hey! Valencia’s waiting for his money. He’s going to be pissed enough when he sees my face.”

Lorenzo nodded to himself in the empty bedroom. Franco had a good point. Valencia wouldn’t be happy on either count.

As he left the room, Lorenzo stopped at one of the heating grates, pried it open and took out another of the weapons he kept hidden in the house—one that even his dear wife hadn’t known about. He shoved the gun into the small of his back and descended the stairs.

Franco never knew what hit him.

Chapter Two

Jenna Dante had been driving for hours through the pouring rain and darkness when she came around a corner in the narrow road.

She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Water. It tumbled down the hillside from a rain-swollen creek, flooding the road ahead. The raging water ran over the highway and on down the mountainside like a river.

She slammed on the brakes, her fingers gripping the wheel. The SUV began to skid on the wet pavement, directly toward the deep water flowing onto the highway.

She wasn’t going to stop in time, and once she hit the moving water…

She cranked the wheel, felt the SUV begin to spin out of control. Lexi! It was her only thought as the car crashed into the side of the mountain. There was a terrible sound of metal ripping, then silence.

For a moment, Jenna couldn’t move. Her gaze shot to the car seat in the back. Lexi was awake and looking at her. “Are you all right?” Jenna cried.

“What happened, Mommy?”

“We just went off the road. It’s all right.” She peeled her fingers from the steering wheel, shaking so hard she had to grip her hands together in her lap. “But we’re fine.” They were fine. Her air bag hadn’t even deployed. But she could hear the water rushing by not feet from them. They wouldn’t be fine for long.

The car engine was still running. She shifted into reverse, praying that the car wasn’t damaged badly, that she could drive out of here.

But the moment she pressed on the gas pedal, she realized they weren’t going anywhere. Not in this car.

She shut off the engine and unhooked her seat belt. The rain seemed to have lessened as she climbed into the back and hurriedly got her daughter out of her car seat. Grabbing her purse, Jenna opened the door and climbed out, reaching back to lift Lexi and her rag doll in her arms.

“Fred!” Lexi cried, and grabbed for the cat.

“I’ll come back for him,” Jenna promised. But Lexi already had a death grip on the animal, so it looked as if they were all going.

Jenna wasn’t even sure where they were. Somewhere in the Cascade Mountains. All she knew was that she hadn’t seen a house or another car for miles.

“Mommy? Clarice is scared,” Lexi whispered, one arm around the rag doll and Fred, the other squeezing tighter around Jenna’s neck.

Jenna tried not to let her own fear immobilize her. The car was wrecked. They were out in the middle of nowhere. And Lorenzo would be coming after them. Could already be after them.

Fred let out a loud meow in her ear, as if agreeing with the rag doll. It was definitely scary.

“Clarice shouldn’t be afraid,” Jenna said. “She has you to make sure nothing happens to her. And you have me.”

Right. She felt her stomach clench with fear at just the thought of how helpless she was against Lorenzo. But she had Lexi. And Lorenzo would take her again over Jenna’s dead body.

She almost laughed at the truth in that. She never wanted to see him again and didn’t think she probably would. He never did any of his own dirty work. Of course, this time he might make an exception. He would want to kill her with his own bare hands.

She shivered at the pleasure he would derive from it.

Jenna walked back up the road, away from the raging creek, trying to decide what to do. She had few options. The road was blocked, might even be washed out by morning.

Not that Jenna was going anywhere in the SUV. From what she could tell, the car was high centered on a rock. Or worse.

The rain had almost stopped. Fog rose from the pavement, and beyond that was nothing but darkness.

She tried her cell phone. No service.

Out here she felt so vulnerable. But they couldn’t have stayed in the car—not with the water so close and possibly still rising.

She half expected to see car lights coming up the road. Half expected Lorenzo to be behind the wheel. Could just imagine the expression on his face. Gotcha!

In the weeks since the divorce, she’d often wondered why he’d let her go so easily. But in her heart she’d always known. He wanted her to think she’d gotten away. Gotten away with her daughter. When in truth, it was just a cat-and-mouse game with Lorenzo. He’d known that he could end it in an instant when he was ready.

Had he taken Lexi knowing Jenna would come after her? Had he just been looking for a reason to come after her and kill her? Not that he needed one.

She shuddered, telling herself that nothing could change the course of events. And if she’d never married him, she wouldn’t have Lexi.

Jenna’s heart broke at the thought that she might not be able to protect Lexi from her father. It had been a last resort, taking her back from Lorenzo the way she had. Now she couldn’t let her daughter down. No matter what she had to do, she thought. Shifting the cat she reached for the gun still in her jacket pocket.

“Lookee!” Lexi angled a tiny finger out into the darkness beside the road.

Jenna had to crane her neck to see where she was pointing. Lights glowed from out of the fog. High up on the side of the mountain she could make out the top spires of a building poking up out of the trees and mist.

And there on the hillside was a sign, barely visible in the gloom. The neon outline of a woman in an old-fashioned bathing suit, in a diving pose. Underneath her, the words Fernhaven Grand Opening. The date on the sign was in three weeks.

There was definitely something up the road—a huge building, the lights glowing faintly through the swirling mist.

“I want to go there!” Lexi cried. “Please, Mommy? Clarice wants to, too. She said she wouldn’t be scared at all if we went there.”

“I don’t think it’s open yet,” Jenna said. Whatever it was. “But we’ll go see.”

As she moved forward, the glow of lights high on the mountainside became clearer. No wonder she hadn’t noticed them earlier from the highway.

If she could get her daughter somewhere warm and dry, she could call for a wrecker. They just needed someplace to wait. It had to be close to midnight by now.

The freshly paved road wound up the mountain. They hadn’t gone far when she had to put Lexi down and catch her breath. After that, the child insisted on walking. Thankfully Jenna had grabbed a sweater for her daughter. She put it over the footed duck pj’s. Jenna carried Fred, but Lexi wouldn’t give up her rag doll, Clarice. The going was slow, the darkness around them intense. Along the road the trees were dense and dark.

Jenna was beginning to think this was a mistake when they crested a hill and the road abruptly widened. There, shrouded in fog, was a huge castlelike building looming out of the night.

She couldn’t contain the chill that moved over her.

Fred dug his claws into her arm, seconding Jenna’s thoughts. This place gave her the creeps, too.

“It’s a castle,” Lexi cried.

If this was a castle, then an evil count lived here, Jenna thought. But then, she’d been living with evil for some time. She still wondered how she could have been so deceived by Lorenzo. Why hadn’t she seen what kind of man he was before she’d married him? She knew the answer. Lorenzo was very adept at hiding his true nature. But living with him, she’d quickly seen through his facade right down to his black soul.

As tired as she was, she wouldn’t have been surprised if the hotel turned out to be a mirage. But all the lights were on in the huge lobby, and she could see someone inside.

“Come on, Mommy,” Lexi said, and ran toward the wide front steps.

The air was damp and cold. Jenna could hear a roar as if there was a waterfall nearby. She caught up to Lexi, taking her hand. As they ascended the wide steps, Jenna looked up.

The face of a man appeared at one of the third-floor windows. She had the distinct impression he’d been watching them as if waiting for them. Maybe the hotel was open to guests, after all.

She had little more than an impression of him before he was gone.

HARRY BALLANTINE WASN’T sure what had made him go to the window and look out. Just a feeling.

Even more odd was what he saw from the window: a slight-framed woman with a young child, and something in her arms. A cat.

So what had drawn him to the window after all these years?

Apparently the woman.

She was dressed all in black, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no jewelry of any great value, something he could tell even from this distance. Her face, pale in the foggy light emanating from the lobby, had the appearance of both strain and exhaustion, but also fear.

She was in trouble. Why else would she be banging on the door of a not-yet-opened hotel after midnight on a rainy night?

He saw no reason why he might be interested in her. In fact, there was every reason not to get involved in whatever trouble she was in, even if he could help her.

That’s what made it so strange. He was interested. Something had drawn him to the window. Just as it now drew him to the woman. What worried him was that he had no idea why.

RAYMOND VALENCIA CALLED Lorenzo just before midnight. “What the hell?” he said by way of greeting.

Lorenzo had gone to bed, turning out all the lights, just as he would have if nothing unusual had happened tonight.

“Raymond?” he asked, pretending he’d been awakened from a sound sleep. He sat up, fumbling with the lamp beside the bed. “What time is it?”

“Where the hell is Franco?”

“Franco?” He yawned. “How should I know where Franco is?”

“You might recall he was at your place to pick up something of mine a few hours ago,” Valencia snapped. “Or don’t you know anything about that, either?”

“Actually, he was late. Didn’t get here until almost ten, seemed…nervous. Smelled like he’d been drinking.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

It was all Lorenzo could do to keep from filling the space, but talking too much would only make Valencia suspicious.

“What time did he leave with the money?”

“Right away,” Lorenzo said. “I offered him a drink, but he said he was in a hurry.”

More silence. He could almost hear the wheels in Valencia’s head turning. Franco was a man Valencia trusted so much he was going to let him take Lorenzo’s place. And Franco knew firsthand what happened to anyone who crossed the boss. It was no wonder Valencia was having a hard time believing that Franco would betray him.

“He probably stopped off to see his girlfriend and lost track of time,” Lorenzo said, yawning again. “Hell, he probably had a fight with her and that’s why he was late and had been drinking. Women. They can twist a man up good.”

“What girlfriend?” Valencia demanded. “I know nothing about a girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah?” He shrugged, counted slowly to five. “I don’t know her name. I just overheard him on his cell with her one day. She was giving him a hard time, from the sound of it. He was kissing her butt, trying to calm her down. Pretty funny, really.”

Valencia swore. Even a man as cold and hard as Raymond Valencia knew the effect a woman could have on a man.

Lorenzo smiled to himself when Valencia slammed down the phone without another word.

He’d offered the bait and the boss had taken it. Lorenzo put the receiver back in its cradle and turned out the light, lying in the darkness, thinking about the way Jenna had messed him up.

His first impulse was to go after her. But he couldn’t indulge that impulse. If he left town now, Valencia would become suspicious. More suspicious than he no doubt already was.

No, Lorenzo had been forced to put one of his former employees on Jenna’s trail.

He’d called a man who was so dumb Lorenzo trusted him. Alfredo made Franco look like a genius. The man was all brawn and no brain, and because of that he was like a robot when it came to just doing his job without any questions. Alfredo didn’t even complain about being awakened in the middle of the night. He said he would find Lorenzo’s ex, not let anyone know where he’d gone, and “detain” her until Lorenzo could join them at a later time.

“Good. I want to handle this myself when the time is right,” Lorenzo had said.

“No problem.”

He’d hung up. He hated waiting, and here he was going to have to wait some more. But he had confidence that Alfredo would find her and the money, and that was all that mattered. As long as it was soon.

The problem was what to do once he had Jenna and his daughter and the duffel full of money. Maybe he would just tell Valencia the truth. Valencia would be furious at him for killing Franco, but Lorenzo figured it was something he could get over. Especially since Valencia would have his money back.

Or…Lorenzo could go with plan B. He could keep the money, take his kid and get out of Dodge. By then Valencia would be fairly convinced that Franco had ripped him off. Lorenzo could maybe plant some evidence, a trail for Valencia to follow that would make it even clearer that Franco had taken the money. Franco and his girlfriend.

What if Franco really did have a girlfriend? Lorenzo had had to lie about overhearing Franco on the cell phone with someone. But what if the stupid thug really did have a girlfriend? That could mess things up good.

Lorenzo swore, almost wishing he hadn’t killed Franco. If Franco had a girlfriend, then Lorenzo would have to find her before Valencia did.

Chapter Three

Jenna followed Lexi up the steps and across the hotel’s wide veranda, then knocked on the door. Earlier she’d seen someone moving around inside the expansive lobby, where several huge ornate chandeliers glowed brightly.

Lexi peered in, seeming enchanted by the place. It was definitely elegant, from what Jenna could see. Expensive, too. And apparently not open yet. Had she just imagined someone inside earlier? What about the man she’d seen at the third-floor window?

She pounded harder.

An elderly man appeared from out of the back. He seemed surprised to see her.

“We’re not open for business yet,” he called through the glass.

“My car went off the road down by the creek,” she called back. “The road is flooded. We just need somewhere to stay until I can phone for a wrecker.”

He held up a finger to signal he would be right back. Good to his word, he returned with a key and opened the door. “Sorry. Come on in. The road’s out?”

She nodded, and she and Lexi stepped in. The moment she entered she felt a brush of cold air move past her cheek. She shivered as she looked around. “What is this place?”

“Fernhaven Hotel. The exact replica of the one built in 1936.”

That explained why the place had the feeling of another time. The lobby was huge, with massive planters of ferns and palms, rich fabric-covered sofas and chairs, Oriental rugs spread over hardwood and marble floors that gleamed. The crystal chandeliers sparkled. Through high arches she could see thick burgundy carpet running to the elaborate entrance of a huge ballroom.

“Nothing was quite like Fernhaven at the time,” the elderly man said. “I remember my parents talking about the place. It opened during the Depression, but there were still some that had money and wanted to be with other folks with money in someplace isolated. Couldn’t get more isolated than this,” he said with a laugh.

“Do you have a phone I could use? I tried my cell phone but it doesn’t seem to work up here.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to talk so much. Gets lonely up here.” He was tall and whip thin, with a shock of gray hair and thick brows like caterpillars over pale eyes. “You’re welcome to use the phone in the office, but I doubt you’ll be able to get anyone out tonight. The closest town is to the east, and if the road is flooded… Give me a minute. I should call the highway patrol first, so they can put up a roadblock at the creek.”

He left her and Lexi, and went into the back. Jenna could hear him on the phone. When he returned he said, “The creek isn’t the only stream flooding tonight. Sounds like there’s more problems on the road you came in on. I’m afraid you’re not going anywhere for a while.” He glanced from her to Lexi.

Jenna realized what they must look like. Though the rain had stopped, there was enough moisture in the air to make them both damp and chilled.

“I can put you in a room for the rest of the night,” he offered. “We’re not officially open, but we have some suites on the third floor that are finished.” He waved off her concern. “The rooms are just sitting up there.”

She had no choice, she thought, gazing at her daughter. Lexi hugged her rag doll, looking both cold and tired. “That’s very kind of you. I just don’t want to get you into any trouble.” She thought of the man she’d seen looking from the window on the third floor. “Did you say there is no one else staying here?”

“Just the three of us,” he said, smiling down at Lexi. “I’m the security guard. Name’s Elmer. Elmer Thompson. I’ll be here until six, when the manager arrives with the rest of the crew finishing up the place. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

Jenna had forgotten about Fred until he meowed and tried to jump down. “I’m sorry about the cat. He’s my daughter’s and she couldn’t bear to leave him in the car.”

Elmer smiled. “I think we can accommodate the cat, as well. The dining room isn’t open yet, but I can scare up some canned tuna and a box with some sand from the construction site. How would that be?”

“Wonderful.” Jenna found herself starting to relax. “I’ll pay you, of course.”

“You can discuss that with the manager in the morning,” he said.

She noticed the old black-and-white photographs behind the registration desk. “When were those taken?”

“Opening night, June 12, 1936. The new owners rebuilt the place to make it exactly like the original, right down to the most minute detail.”

“Rebuilt it?” She felt a chill as she squinted at the photo taken of a ballroom filled with people, the men in tuxedos, the women in fancy gowns and elaborate, expensive jewelry. “What happened to it?”

“Burned down opening night.”

She jerked back from the photograph. “How horrible. Was anyone hurt?”

“Fifty-seven souls lost.”

She felt her chest tighten. “These photographs…if they were taken during opening night…”

He nodded in understanding. “You’re wondering how the photos survived. A newspaper photographer took the photos then left to meet his deadline not realizing that the hotel was burning to the ground as he drove into town.”

She glanced around unable to hide her shock. “Why would anyone want to build on this site, let alone make the hotel exactly as it was?”

Elmer shook his head. “I’ve never met the owners, but I heard they feel Fernhaven is too beautiful to lie in ashes. They don’t build hotels like this anymore, true enough, but quite frankly, I think they did it because of the ghosts.”

“Ghosts?”

He laughed. “Haunted hotels are the thing, they tell me. It’s a marketing ploy. Some of the crew have said they’ve felt them.” He scoffed at the idea. “Cold spots in the hallways, curtains moving when there is no breeze, that sort of thing. The gimmick must work. We’re booked solid for the grand opening in three weeks.”

“It sounds ghoulish to me,” Jenna said, and couldn’t contain her shiver.

“I’m sorry. You’re both chilled. Let me get you into a room.” He turned to the wall of wooden cubbyholes behind the counter. Each held a pair of old-fashioned room keys. “I suppose I should have you sign in, if you don’t mind. Make it official.”

Elmer flipped open a thick book that looked not only old but charred in one corner, as if it had been burned. “From the original hotel,” he said, seeing her shock. He swung the book around and handed her a pen.

She took the pen, but drew back when she saw the date on the opposite page: June 12, 1936. Seventy years ago. And the list of guests who’d signed in that night. She couldn’t help but wonder how many of those people had died here.

“Is there a working phone in the room, so I can call for a wrecker in the morning?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She noticed that his attention was suddenly fixed on the key to room 318, lying next to the registration book. He seemed surprised to see it there. She tried to remember if she’d seen him take it from the cubbyhole, and couldn’t.

Frowning, he checked the book, then with a shake of his head and a small laugh, he handed her the key with 318 embossed on it.

“Thank you.” Jenna looked again at the old photographs of people dancing in a large ballroom, others sitting in the lobby or standing at a long bar.

One of the faces jumped out at her. Her heart began to pound for seemingly no reason as she stared at a man from the 1936 photograph.

He was lounging against the bar, decked out in a tux, holding a champagne glass in his hand as he smiled at the camera, arrogance in every line of his body.

His hair was dark, with an errant lock hanging down over his forehead. His features were as chiseled as the broad shoulders under the tux jacket, his face handsome even with the thin dark mustache.

She felt a chill ripple across her skin. Something about the man reminded her of the image she’d seen in the third-floor window earlier, as she and Lexi had approached the hotel.

The man seemed to be looking right at her—and smiling as if he knew something she didn’t.

“If you’ll just sign the book…”

She dragged her gaze away from the photograph, surprised she’d been so drawn to it she’d completely forgotten to sign in.

She started to write her full name, then stopped. For a few moments, with everything that had happened, she’d forgotten what she really had to fear. Not ghosts, but Lorenzo. She signed her name as Jenna Johnson and made up an address in Oregon. Best not to even use her maiden name, McDonald. Lorenzo would be after her. Might already be hot on her trail.

“I’ll bring up the tuna and cat box. If you like I can scare up something for the two of you to eat,” Elmer offered.

“That is very kind of you, but not necessary.” She had some cereal and dried fruit in her purse for Lexi. “We’ll be fine tonight.” At least, she hoped so.

“Are your suitcases in your car?” he asked. “If you give me your keys, I’ll run down and get anything out that you might need for tonight,” he offered.

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I feel like we have imposed on you enough.”

“Please. I get bored to tears here. It’s nice knowing there is someone else in this big old place. And you and your daughter are going to need dry clothing.”

He was right, Jenna thought. “Thank you,” she said, as she handed him the keys.

“The elevator to your wing is right down there,” Elmer told her. “I’ll be up in a few minutes with your things.”

“Come on, Mommy.” Lexi pulled on her hand.

“Thank you,” Jenna said again to the security guard. She felt shaken and weak, stumbling around in a haze of exhaustion. A little rest and she’d be fine. Thank goodness the hotel had been here. She didn’t know what she would have done otherwise.

Her daughter broke free again to skip toward the elevator, her eyes bright with excitement.

The lobby seemed too large and empty as Jenna followed. The elevator doors opened as if expecting them.

Jenna took Lexi’s hand and stepped into the empty elevator car. But as the doors closed and the mirrored, wood-paneled cage began to hum upward, she had the strangest feeling that they weren’t alone.

HARRY BALLANTINE STOOD in the corner of the elevator wondering what he was doing. What had he expected? That there was some reason he felt drawn to this woman? That maybe she’d been sent here?

She was totally oblivious of him. Just like the little girl and the cat.

He noticed the diamond ring on the woman’s left hand. She was turning it nervously with her thumb. True to his former profession as a con man and jewel thief, he assessed the diamond in the half second it took to do so. Not bad quality. An average cut. A carat and a quarter. Not worth stealing.

The thought surprised him. He hadn’t thought about stealing anything in years.

His gaze went to the woman again. Who was she? But more to the point, what was it about her that had him thinking about the past again?

He’d almost forgotten what it had been like, the night of Fernhaven’s first grand opening. Standing at the bar watching the men in tuxedos, the women in expensive gowns, all whirling around the spacious ballroom to the music of the Johnny Franklin Orchestra.

Those had been the days. Harry had been thirty-two and had never seen that much wealth in one room before. Not surprisingly, he’d been down on his luck—until he’d conned his way into an invitation to the grand opening.

June 12, 1936.

It had been nothing short of heaven for a jewel thief.

Until the fire.

The elevator slowed. The woman glanced in his direction, and for just an instant he thought she might have sensed him there.

JENNA LEANED AGAINST the elevator wall, the past few days finally catching up with her as she stared at the empty space across from her, telling herself no one was staring back at her and Lexi.

Her reflection in the elevator mirrors made her wince. Not only did she look terrified, but there were dark circles under her eyes and her face was pale and drawn. Her hair hung limply from her ponytail.

The elevator ride seemed interminable but she was sure it only took a few seconds before the car stopped.

As the doors hummed open Lexi looked up, breaking into a smile as if there was someone waiting just outside the elevator. Jenna felt a cold draft curl around her neck. There was no one standing there. Nor did she see anyone in the long, lush red carpeted hallway.

“Did you see her hat?” Lexi asked. “It was purple.”

Jenna had no idea what her daughter was talking about. She gripped Lexi’s hand as the elevator seemed to fill with the icy invading air, and practically lunged out, dragging Lexi with her.

Before the doors closed behind them, Jenna turned to look back, expecting to see frost on the mirrors. The elevator was empty, her reflection mocking her fear.

“Come on,” Jenna said in a whisper as she led Lexi down the hall.

Lexi took off, skipping along the plush carpet of the wood-paneled hallway.

“Wait!” Jenna called quietly, even though according to the security guard there were no other guests to disturb. The wing was deathly still.

She was so tired that just lifting each foot took Herculean effort. When she saw the room, she gasped in astonishment. Elmer had said it was a suite, but she hadn’t expected this.

She looked at the magnificent rooms, half-afraid to enter. Lexi had already disappeared inside, making Jenna nervous. She stepped into the suite and closed and locked the door.

For just a moment she felt something—a cool brush against her cheek. She drew back, touching her skin.

She couldn’t rid herself of the feeling that she and Lexi weren’t alone, hadn’t been since they’d entered Fernhaven. Jenna was afraid that somehow Lorenzo had followed her. She told herself that was crazy. Unless he had some sort of tracking device on the SUV…

Ridiculous. He had no reason to track himself. Unless one of his so-called “associates” had put the device on his car.

Jenna knew she was being paranoid. No way could Lorenzo have found them, let alone sneaked into the suite to wait for them.

Lexi came running out of a far bedroom, chattering to her rag doll as she climbed up to look out the bay windows. “Lookee, Mommy!” she cried in delight.

Jenna joined her to gaze down at a beautiful courtyard. Lights glowed golden on an exquisite fountain and a string of hot pools set among huge rocks with steam rising from them. Past the pools there appeared to be a path that disappeared into the foggy darkness and thick foliage of the mountainside.

It was all beautiful and eerie. Jenna hugged herself, trying to enjoy this extraordinary place as much as her daughter obviously was.

She told herself to be glad that she had Lexi back. That they were safe now. But the words were hollow. She knew Lorenzo. He wouldn’t stop until he found her, until he destroyed her.

Lexi raced across the large suite to peer out another window. Jenna followed again and saw that this side looked down on the front of the hotel.

Beyond the small parking lot was the thick darkness of the forest. Jenna stared into the blackness, imagining someone staring back at her, then hurriedly pulled the drapes and turned toward the larger of the two bedrooms.

A knock at the door startled her. “Who is it?”

“Elmer Thompson.”

She recognized the aging voice of the security guard from downstairs and felt foolish. Hadn’t he told her that there was no one other than the three of them in the entire hotel tonight?

She opened the door and he rolled a cart in. She caught a glimpse of Lexi’s and her suitcases.

Fred started meowing as Elmer handed her a can of tuna and an opener. She opened the can and fed the cat as Elmer took Lexi’s small princess suitcase into the second bedroom, along with the box of sand.

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