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  "Not anything that I wanted to burden you with," he told her.

  Didn't he know by now that he could tell her anything? That she wanted to know what bothered him?

  "It doesn't. It makes me feel that maybe I'm not being a basket case. It has nothing to do with love," she qualified, afraid that he might think she still had feelings for Ben and that was why she felt guilty. "I stopped loving Ben a long time ago." She raised her eyes to his and the words just came out. "About the time I started loving you." Lila sighed. "Damn."

  "Damn?"

  "I wasn't supposed to say that." She dragged her hand through her hair, impatient with herself. "Look, I don't want you to think that I'm trying to make you feel that I expect something from you. I—"

  He smiled at Lila. "You definitely talk too much sometimes."

  "Yes, I know."

  Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her long and hard. Because, even though he couldn't say it out loud, because there was a whole spectrum of fear attached to it, he knew he loved her. But loving someone wasn't as easy as he'd once believed.

  After the kiss ended, he held Lila and gave her as much comfort as he could. He found he received the same for himself. Holding her made him feel better.

  "It's going to be all right, Lila," he promised quietly, whispering the words into her hair. "We'll find whoever's doing this."

  We, she thought. Not quite. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly taking an active participation in all this," she pointed out. "Other than picking up the phone and noticing that things have been misplaced."

  He knew that had to frustrate her. It would him. "If we have any leads at all, I promise I'll let you know."

  "You keep saying 'we.' Who's 'we'?" Lila stepped back to look at his face. "Did you bring anyone else into this?" The moment she asked, she had her answer. Because they'd spent so much time in one another's company all those years they were partnered, she could read him like the proverbial book. "You did." She sighed, trying not to get upset. She trusted Brian. He wouldn't break his word unless it was with good reason. "Who?"

  Cornered, he had to admit it. He could no more lie outright to her than he could to anyone in his family. "Jared, Troy and Callie."

  She closed her eyes. "Oh, God." The next moment her eyes flew opened again. "Do they know about the phone calls?"

  "All I said was that I wanted to find out if anyone ever took any credit for killing Ben and his partner, Walker. Whoever killed them either has the money or is looking for the money," he theorized. Though he hated himself for it, he was too much of a cop not to watch her face for a reaction, a slight sign that could implicate her with the missing money. But there was no change in her expression. "That's all any of them know," he swore, then was forced to add, "but I didn't raise any dummies."

  "No," Lila agreed, "but you Cavanaughs are an honorable bunch." Just like her own children, she thought. "Even if they make the connection, we can keep this contained. And if we wind up needing extra help, luckily there's almost an army of you." Her smile was self-deprecating as she made her apology. "I didn't mean to make you come back."

  He should have never left, he upbraided himself again. "That's all right, I was finished anyway and there's no place else I'd rather be." He nodded toward the stairs. "Why don't you go up to bed? I'm going to stay up for a while."

  "So am I," she informed him. She was way past the point when someone could tell her when to go to bed. "I'll go get the cards," she volunteered.

  That struck a familiar note. Back in the day, they used to play poker by the hour when they were on a stakeout.

  "Want some coffee?" she asked before she left the room.

  There were times when he thought he lived on coffee. He could give anything else up but that. "Sounds good to me."

  Lila stopped just before she crossed the threshold into the kitchen and glanced at him over her shoulder. "Brian?"

  "Yes?"

  "I really appreciate you going out of your way like this."

  He brushed off her thanks. "It's not out of my way. Besides, what are friends for?"

  She nodded, forcing a smile to her lips. "What, indeed?"

  Friends, Lila thought, walking into the kitchen. He'd referred to himself as her friend. After she'd slipped and admitted she loved him. It told her what she'd already assumed. That when it came to this relationship, they were in different places. But then, it wasn't anything more—or less—than she'd expected.

  But far less than she secretly wanted.

  * * * * *

  "We got lucky," Troy told his father a couple of days later. He and Callie met with Brian in the computer tech lab. His cousin motioned for the computer technician to move aside for a minute. When he did, she took over the keyboard. "Lopez managed to use the serial number to trace it back to the store where the cell phone was originally purchased. J & B Electronics. Oakland," he elaborated. "The owner wasn't really keen on parting with the surveillance tapes, but Callie—" he nodded toward his cousin with a pleased grin "—persuaded him."

  "He had a lot of outstanding parking tickets," she said, her fingers flying across the keyboard as if they were independent entities. Glancing over her shoulder at her uncle, she flashed a wide grin. "We made a trade. The tapes for the tickets. If you notice—" she indicated the computer monitor "—lucky for us, they're all time and date stamped. Most of the tapes were incredibly boring, but we did get our man—or our couple."

  "Couple?" Brian echoed. He moved to stand directly behind Callie. The room was fairly dark, making the action on the screen a little clearer, but it was still somewhat fuzzy.

  "A man and a woman," Callie told him just as the couple came into camera range. "They look like they're arguing before they come up to the register. The woman seems far from happy."

  "Probably means they're married," the computer tech guessed. "Married people always argue." He became aware that both of the younger Cavanaughs had turned to look at him. He raised his hands as if to wave away his words. "Present company excepted, of course."

  "Of course," Troy repeated, suppressing his amusement.

  Brian hardly heard the exchange. The couple had drawn closer to the register and the camera. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as if the air had suddenly gone bone-dry.

  "Hold it," he ordered Callie. "Can you freeze that shot?"

  "Freeze it, thaw it, I can make it do tricks if you want," Callie quipped.

  "Just enlarge it," Brian told her, his voice deadly serious.

  "The couple?" she asked before she struck the keys.

  His eyes didn't move from the screen. "No, just the man."

  "Your wish is my command," Callie replied.

  Brian stared at the enlarged shot. It was incredibly grainy. "Can you clean it up a little more?"

  "I'll do what I can, but those forensic shows on TV get it wrong. There's only so much you can do with software." She hit a few more keys with minimal effect. "That's as good as it gets," she apologized.

  It wasn't quite enough to be absolutely conclusive for him, but still caused a chill to slither down his spine.

  As Brian examined the fuzzy photo, he could swear that the man buying the disposable cell phone looked a hell of a lot like Ben Mclntyre.

  * * *

  Chapter 11

  « ^ »

  Brian grew very quiet. He felt rather than saw Troy turn to look at him.

  "What's the matter, Dad?" Troy asked. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

  "Ghosts don't buy cell phones," Brian murmured, still looking at the image in disbelief. Was it possible? Or just the power of suggestion? Was Ben Mclntyre actually still alive?

  Then who was buried in Mclntyre's grave?

  Callie rose, surrendering the keyboard and computer back to the lab technician. The latter gladly reclaimed his seat.

  Brian was already leaving the room. She hurried to catch up to him. Both of her cousins were half a step behind her.

  The second they were out of the lab
, she asked, "Uncle Brian, is that Ben Mclntyre?"

  Brian stopped right outside the door. The tech had gone back to what he'd been doing previously and there was no one else in the hall but his sons and niece.

  He looked at Callie closely, surprised by her question. "You knew Ben Mclntyre?"

  She nodded. "I worked with him once on a special detail. It was just when I was starting out. He seemed like an okay guy," she tagged on.

  He was, Brian thought. Once.

  Troy looked confused. "But isn't he's supposed to be dead?"

  "Yes." Brian sighed. This was getting worse and worse. "He is."

  Callie exchanged glances with Jared. "Could Mclntyre have faked his own death for some reason?" Callie asked.

  That's the way it was beginning to look, Brian thought. "Right now, anything is possible. Not a word of this gets around until I've had time to break the news—possible news to his widow."

  "If Mclntyre's alive, then she's not his widow," Jared commented.

  "I know." Brian set his jaw grimly. And therein, he added silently, lay the problem.

  * * * * *

  He had a meeting scheduled first thing after lunch with the police chief. His first order of business was to have the meeting pushed back. He needed to talk to Lila first.

  The chief, Jack Larsen, was a decent sort. Not as good at his job as Andrew had been before him, but he was sincerely trying. Personally taking Brian's call, the man then told him that his assistant would be in touch with a new time and date since the rest of his day was booked solid.

  As he searched for words that would soften the blow for Lila, Brian barely heard what Larsen was saying to him. He took his cue from the silence on the other end of the line and made a polite reply, although for the life of him, he wasn't sure what it was he said. His mind, his focus, was elsewhere.

  But Larsen sounded satisfied, so all was well.

  Brian took the stairs rather than the elevator down to the second floor where Lila was currently working in the records department. Each step he took eerily clattered on the metal stairs like a death knell.

  The office where she worked was all the way down the hall. When he reached it, Brian paused for a moment, watching her. Lila seemed utterly unaware that her whole world was about to be thrown on its ear.

  And he was the one who was about to do it.

  Responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders. Lila had already been through so much, he really didn't want to be the one to destroy whatever peace she'd finally found.

  But then, he knew he had to be the one to tell her about Ben. Because he cared about her.

  And now, he thought cynically, she would remember that he was the one who'd set a match to her carefully restructured world.

  * * * * *

  Lila felt someone looking at her. Felt it as surely as if she'd been physically touched. Ever since this thing with the night caller had started, she'd been on her guard. It was paranoia for the most part, but still, she couldn't shake the feeling.

  Better safe than sorry.

  Glancing up, she saw Brian standing several feet from her desk. Instantly she smiled. But the warmth that filled her faded the next moment. Something in Brian's eyes set off an alarm in her. But why? He was the one she felt most comfortable with, the one who knew her thoughts, her secrets. Brian had her back, the way he'd always had.

  "Brian? What's wrong?" Lila came around her desk to get closer to him. She lowered her voice. "You look as if you lost your best friend."

  That would be you, he thought. Out loud, he said, "I hope to God not."

  He'd called her his best friend more than once, so she knew he was referring to her.

  "Okay, now you're scaring me." And then, because it was the nature of the job, her heart suddenly froze in her chest. "Is it one of the kids? Did something happen to one of them? Is it Riley?" Riley was her most reckless child, a daredevil ever since she first opened her eyes. "Or Zack?" Her mind was going a mile a minute as scenario after scenario occurred to her. "Taylor?" Oh, not her baby. "Not Frank." Her voice was almost hoarse.

  Brian quickly shook his head as the names flew from her lips. "No, nothing's happened to any of them. They're all okay."

  Lila felt almost dizzy with relief. On the heels of that came confusion. "Then what?" she prodded. "Why do you look like you have something to tell me that you really don't want to say?"

  The laugh that emerged was short. She always could read him. "You have no idea how much I don't want to say this."

  "Not comforting, Brian," she told him. Taking a deep breath, Lila nodded over to an area where the personnel on the floor took their breaks. It was empty now. They could talk freely.

  She led the way and Brian followed. Turning to him, she searched his face for clues and found none. "Is this official or unofficial?"

  "Both."

  Her uneasiness increased tenfold. "Bigger than a bread box?" Whenever she was nervous, she sought refuge in humor, thin though it was. She was aware that her knees didn't feel quite solid. But since whatever he had come to tell her didn't involve any of her children, she felt a little better about facing what he had to say.

  Or so she thought.

  "It's Ben."

  The two words hung in the air like a bomb set to go off. Her stomach tightened and she felt the color drain from her face.

  "What's Ben?" she asked, her voice hoarse with suppressed emotion.

  God but he wished there was some way to keep this from her. "There's a chance he might still be alive."

  It was a joke, a bad joke. Why was Brian being so cruel?

  "That's impossible," she cried even though she realized that she'd been the one who'd said the caller's voice reminded her of Ben. Lila's blood ran cold in her veins. "I saw his body."

  "You saw a body," he corrected. When she continued staring at him, he went on. "What you saw was the body of a man approximately the same height, the same coloring as Ben, wearing Ben's clothes, Ben's wedding ring. His fingerprints," he reminded her, "were gone—"

  Desperate to negate what Brian was saying, she cut in. "That's because he was in the water for almost a week. The fish ate his fingers." They'd eaten away other parts of Ben, as well, and for the rest of her life, she was going to carry that image in her mind, no matter how hard she tried to block it out. While she'd forbidden any of her children to view the body, she had been the one to identify him—and spent the next few hours after she did throwing up in the ladies' room.

  Brian hated having to bring up these details. At the time, because of where the body had washed up—in the same vicinity where his partner was found—and the clothes that the dead man was wearing, there hadn't been a question of who the body was.

  But now, it was different. "Remember, his teeth were smashed in."

  Tears shined her eyes, tears for the man she had once loved, tears for the man Ben had once been, before he began to change into someone she barely knew. Someone she no longer loved.

  She glanced at Brian defiantly. "That's because we thought Ben had been tortured by whoever eventually killed him and Dean." Whether it was just payback or because the killer had tried to get information out of Ben, she didn't know, but the body had been horribly mutilated.

  "I know. That was why we never did a DNA test. It seemed like a closed case." Now it seemed like a huge oversight. "Maybe we dropped the ball," he told her quietly.

  She watched him for a long moment, pulling herself together. She had to stop feeling like a wife and start thinking like a police officer. "What makes you think that Ben is still alive?"

  "We found a surveillance tape of the man buying the cell phone used to call you."

  So it had been Ben calling. Why? Why didn't he just show himself? If he was alive, why hadn't he shown himself before now? Rose, Andrew's wife, disappeared for eleven years because she'd had traumatic amnesia. Was that what happened to Ben?

  Somehow, she doubted it was that simple. Nothing was ever simple when it came to Ben. She raised he
r chin. "I want to see the tape."

  Brian shook his head. "Lila, I don't think that's wise."

  Lila dug in. "I'm not going for 'wise,' I'm going for rights. I'm not some fragile doll, don't treat me like one. If that's Ben on the tape, I have a right to see it," she told him. She realized that she'd allowed her temper to flare and it wasn't fair to Brian. She knew he was just trying to protect her. "Brian, please. All this time, I've been carrying around that awful image in my head of Ben's half-eaten body. I need a way to get rid of it. If Ben is still alive, I want to see proof."

  There was no point in arguing with her, Brian thought. In her place, he'd say the same thing. "All right, come with me."

  "Give me a minute." Going back into the office, she told the first person she saw, a temporary file girl, that the chief of detectives required her presence in the tech lab. The girl, fresh out of high school, began asking questions, but Lila was already walking back across the threshold.

  "Okay," she told Brian, bracing herself for the ordeal ahead, "let's go."

  * * * * *

  Lila watched the image on the computer monitor in stony silence. Everything inside of her shut down. This couldn't be happening.

  And yet, it was.

  When the tech reran the sequence a second time, Lila nodded slowly. "That's him," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  "The quality of the tape is poor and grainy," Brian pointed out.

  He could give all the excuses he wanted. She knew what she knew. "That's him."

  He wanted to put his arms around her, to hold her and tell her it was going to be all right. But they were at work. The last thing she needed was another rumor circulating about her.

  So instead he asked, "How can you be so sure?"

  The second time around, she'd watched the way the man in the tape walked. That was when she knew for certain. "He broke his left ankle on our honeymoon. It never healed quite right and he tended to favor it just a little, especially when he was tired." She paused before adding in a grim voice, "Just like the guy in the surveillance tape."