The woman laughed. “Sounds good.”

Jo left her there and wandered toward the foyer. She didn’t see Samual. Upstairs, she could hear a vacuum running. She was tempted to check the second floor, but there could be more people up there, and she couldn’t think of a viable excuse for her presence if someone saw her. She didn’t want to draw suspicion to herself, so she acted casual, as if she had a purpose, as she walked down a hallway to the right of the main doors. There was a large, empty laundry room to the left, a sitting room to the right, and past that, some large wooden double-doors. She glanced around, then tried the knob.

Locked.

She turned and headed back down the hallway before she encountered anybody who might ask what she was doing. Another hallway led to a game room, then a large den with leather couches and a TV. Jo sat for a while, listening to the sounds of the house. Alice hummed in the kitchen, the sound fading away as a door opened and closed. Still no sign of anyone else.

Jo wandered around and ended up back in the den. An hour later, Alice came back, the sounds of her bustling about the kitchen soft in the background. Jo grew bored, and she went into the sitting room where Lydia had interviewed her. Early-evening sunlight filtered through the windows, and Jo looked out to the backyard. Lydia was standing near a large swimming pool, a troubled look on her face. Jo stood to the side of a window and watched.

The woman stared at the aqua water, the surface like glass. She wore baggy white slacks, a loose-fitting yellow blouse, low heels, gold jewelry reflecting the sunlight. She frowned and took another step toward the edge of the pool, near the deep end. A hand went to her mouth, and she appeared to be biting her finger. Then her hand dropped to her side. She took another step forward, a foot from the water’s edge.

Was she going to jump?

Jo moved to the door, and just as she opened it, a musical tone filled the air. Lydia startled and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She kept her back to Jo as she answered the call.

“Hello? Oh, hi, Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie Potts, from the party?

Jo kept a hand on the knob, listening. Lydia’s sigh carried across the patio to her.

“As I explained, I needed to leave,” Lydia said. “Something came up.” She listened, nodding. “Yes, the food was excellent.” Another nod. “I’m sorry I missed that. Perhaps next year.”

Jo glanced over her shoulder, making sure no one saw her spying on Lydia. Then she eased the door open wider so she could hear better. The rest of the yard was calm, peaceful, as the woman continued her conversation.

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize. It was nothing.” Then her back stiffened. “What do you mean?” The words were sharp. She listened for a moment, the phone pressed to her ear. Even at a distance, Jo could see that her knuckles were white. “Where did you hear that?” She drew in a jagged breath. “I’m sure you must be mistaken. No, I—” Another pause, then, “It’s not your husband. It’s mine.”

Jo thought she heard something, and she spun around. Just the empty hallway. She needed to be careful, so she took a step back and started to close the door. Lydia raised her voice even more.

“Why didn’t you say something before?”

The answer must not have been satisfactory, because Lydia snapped at Mackenzie, and then apologized.

“You know, I appreciate the call, but I do need to go.” Lydia’s voice dripped a pleasant tone that was clearly forced. “Will you be at the dinner next Saturday?” She shook her head. “Okay, thank you for the call, and the apology. It’s appreciated.”

She listened for a moment, then pulled the phone away from her ear and swiped at the screen. After shoving the phone forcefully into her pocket, she stared at the pool, a hand on her forehead. Then she spun around and saw Jo. She gasped, then cleared her throat. Jo acted as if she had just been coming to the door. She smiled and stepped outside.

“I wanted to see if you needed anything,” Jo said. Lydia’s mouth was downturned, and she looked as if she might cry. “Is everything okay?”

Lydia touched her hair and cleared her throat. “It’s fine.” She sucked in a breath, and her demeanor suddenly changed, a determined look spreading across her face. “You know what? I’d like to go out again. JD has a dinner engagement tonight, so I’m free. Could you have the car ready in ten minutes?”

“It’s ready now, ma’am.”

Jo moved back as Lydia stepped past her and into the house. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she headed for the foyer.

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she called over her shoulder.

She walked with purpose toward the staircase, then ascended, one hand firmly on the rail. When she reached the top, she disappeared down a hallway.

As Jo headed toward the front door, she wondered what had so suddenly changed Lydia’s demeanor.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Kline had had a busy day, working on various security issues for JD, chasing down leads, coordinating with his people. One of the many things he’d done was to arrange a meeting with Damek. Kline had chosen a different place to meet him this time, northeast of Dallas, in the middle of nowhere. Even less chance of anyone seeing them than when they’d met in the parking garage.

The man had clearly been surprised that Kline had requested an in-person meeting. When Damek drove up in a different vehicle—something equally as mundane as the previous car he’d had—he got out, a concerned look on his face. But he tried to play it cool.

“What’s going on? You didn’t want to talk on the phone.”

His accent seemed slightly more pronounced, maybe a sign of his worry. Kline approached and leaned against the side of the car, then crossed his arms. The late afternoon was beautiful, about seventy degrees with a slight breeze blowing. He looked across the plains to the distant horizon. It had never bothered him to live in Texas before, but for some reason, right now, he wanted nothing more than a drink at a beach. The pressures were getting to him. Kline gestured to Damek’s shirt.

“Lift it up.”

Damek’s eyebrows shot up. “What’s going on? You don’t trust me?”

Kline looked around. He did trust Damek—or had, at least until these latest developments. He didn’t think the man would turn on him, but he couldn’t be too careful.

“Just checking.”

Damek pulled up his shirt to show that he wasn’t wearing a wire, and for good measure, he turned his pockets inside out, then raised his pant legs. When he finished, he was careful to hold his hands at his sides. Kline took that to mean Damek was showing he wasn’t a threat, that he didn’t have a weapon. The man didn’t appear perturbed—he seemed to be taking it all in stride, but he also seemed curious.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Tell me about the woman at the bank,” Kline said.

“Sabrina?”

Kline nodded. “Yes.”

Damek didn’t waste any time, or any words. He went over everything with Kline, told him what had happened right from the start. He was thorough, yet succinct. Kline had heard all of it before. He had a good memory, and he didn’t think he’d missed anything from their research on Sabrina. Still, when Damek finished, he began asking questions.

“You had her scared into doing what you wanted, right?” Kline asked.

The man held up his hands. “Yeah, sure.” His accent was still heavier than usual. “She seemed interested in the money I offered, but maybe not enough to help. We knew about her and her boyfriend, and that loosened her lips. Later, when I wanted to meet her again, she tried to get out of it, so I told her we’d go after her mother and younger brother. That seemed to convince her.”

“She was truly scared, not playing you?”

Damek narrowed his eyes. “You know me. I can’t be fooled like that.”

“She wouldn’t have gone to the police? Maybe once you approached her, she worked with them, telling them what you were planning?”

“No way. I was watching her, and so was one of my men. That woman was scared into doing what we wanted.” He held up a hand. “How about telling me what’s going on.”

Kline studied him, making sure Damek wasn’t fooling him. The man seemed genuinely surprised by the questions, which Kline thought meant he hadn’t had more contact with Sabrina since the robbery. He didn’t seem to know what was going on. Kline looked past him to the sun, then spoke.

“She went to the police.”

“What?”