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“Don’t know who the guy is. Can’t see his face. It’s not Reeve, though. He wasn’t in Colorado at Halloween. He was at a Day of the Dead charity event that Sallis Resorts and the Four Seasons sponsored in Hawaii.”

“And you’re sure that the picture wasn’t doctored to make us think it was taken later than it was?”

Again, Joe’s tone was sure. “I’ll send the pic to you. You’ll see.”

Other excuses begged to be spoken, reasons why Reeve couldn’t possibly be innocent in Amber’s disappearance. But, really, why did I think that? Because he’d threatened me? Because he’d had a shaky relationship with her? Because I didn’t want to stop thinking about him, even if it was only in terms of this case?

It’s not him. This is a good thing. “Well, okay then. I guess we can drop the investigation regarding Reeve.”

“I’ve already pulled the resources that were allocated to researching him further. I’ll keep a loose eye on him in case something comes up, but this is a pretty good sign. And now you don’t need to play amateur Nancy Drew and can drop whatever insane investigation you were doing on your own.”

“What are you —?” Except, as soon as I thought about it, I knew exactly what he was referring to. A humiliated blush crept up my neck. “How did you —?”

Joe cut me off. “It’s my job, Em. I have a loose tail on the guy. How did you think I wouldn’t find out?” He didn’t wait for my answer, which was fine because I didn’t have one. “And this isn’t my job, but I feel I need to tell you that what you did was beyond stupid. Not only did you put yourself in the circle of someone who is very probably a dangerous man, but you didn’t tell anyone what you were doing. What would have happened if Sallis had discovered the reason you were at his resort in the first place?”

I wasn’t exactly sure Reeve hadn’t discovered the reason I’d been there. But Joe’s question implied that he didn’t know the extent of what had happened on my trip, at least. I carefully worded my response so as not to volunteer anything new. “He would have kicked me out,” I said.

“Or worse. And who would know where you’d gone missing to?”

The thought had crossed my mind more than once. “Well, you would have, Joe. But, I hear what you’re saying. I’m sorry I went to the resort. It was a lapse of judgment. I won’t do it again.”

“Good. Because you can’t count on me to bail you out if you get into trouble. I might not get there in time. Especially if you haven’t told me what you’re up to. And even if you had, I’m not a match for that man.” His frustration with me was evident in the number of words he’d devoted to his scolding, even if it was absent in his tone.

It made me feel guilty. Not guilty enough to stop me from doing something like that again, but he needn’t worry about a repeat venture. Reeve had ended that himself.

Another round of applause sounded and I turned to see the stage assistant gesturing to me. There was a commercial break before my presentation, so I knew I had at least another minute. “Joe, I have to go. But I get it. And thank you.” Just as I started to say goodbye, I thought of something. “Oh, wait – who did you say sent you the picture?”

“I didn’t. Anonymous. I’ve had a bunch of feelers out though. It probably came from one of them.”

“Ah. Okay.” If the anonymity didn’t bother him, I wouldn’t let it bother me. The assistant waved a frenzied hand toward me. “Going now, Joe. Thanks again.” I clicked “End” and took my mark at the curtain.

The assistant was visibly relieved that I’d put away my phone. “You have one minute, Ms. Wayborn. I’ll count down when we’re at ten seconds.”

It was only a moment later when another buzz came from my pocket. Knowing it was the photo from Joe, I pulled out my cell and opened the message immediately, angling myself so that the assistant wouldn’t get uptight about another peek at my cell.

As it always did when I encountered pictures of Amber, my heart skipped a beat. It was definitely her in the frame. And Joe was right – she looked good. She was only visible from her hips up, and the smirk she wore was distinct, confident.

It was an expression I recognized very well. It was the same one she gave to Rob the time she saw him after he’d left us and we’d moved on to someone richer, more virile. She gave it to the wife of a New York businessman when she discovered us in her husband’s bed. She gave it to me when I lay in the hospital, chilled from shock, bleeding. It was her victory smile. As though she’d won the ten-thousand-dollar jackpot mentioned in the banner above her in the picture – a feat that would please her, but would hardly impress her. It was probably pennies to the man who stood next to her with his arm at her waist. Though the image was cut off, the edge of his suit was clear and the hand he had pressed low at her hip suggested an intimate relationship. It was almost fitting that his face was hidden. Didn’t matter who he was, anyway. As long as his credit card had a high limit, his name, his features, his personality even, were irrelevant.

Seeing her so smug left a bad taste in my mouth. I was good at ignoring the memories it brought back, but now I felt silly having worried about her for so long. She was obviously fine. As always. She didn’t need me. She’d never needed me.

My thumb hovered over the reply on the text. I could tell Joe to drop the investigation. Save myself money and frustration.

But Amber’s phone message. The safe word. And something else niggling at me – what was it? Something about the picture.

“Ms. Wayborn. Ms. Wayborn!”

I startled at the assistant’s prodding. Dammit, I was late for my cue. Dropping my phone in my pocket, I threw back my shoulders and put on a smile before accepting the envelope from the security rep and walking out to take my place on the stage. My knees were wobbling, but my face gave the impression of confidence. The energy surging from the audience applause told me they bought it.

That was the funny thing about smiles – if you flashed the right one, no one knew there was more going on inside. I couldn’t drop an investigation just because I’d seen one picture. There wasn’t enough information to know if it told an honest story. Amber appeared just fine. But she always knew which smile was right.

“Ty is such an asshole.” Chris’s voice was low, looking out over the party as he talked to me. “He knew he’d win that award. Not being here was his way of claiming superiority over everyone. He’s such an asshole.”

“Mm,” I sounded in agreement, sipping from my champagne glass, wishing I could have skipped the after party. Usually I did well with fancy occasions, but my mind was too knitted in Amber and the picture and the question of why it had left me so unsettled.

Chris Blakely didn’t need me to be on, at least. He was as near to a friend as I had these days, and lately we really only saw each other at show biz events. We’d met almost three years before on the shoot of a national commercial for dog food. The whole premise of the ad was ridiculous, but Chris had made the day fun and when it was over I’d let him take me home. Then I’d let him take me to bed. Sometimes after that too, when I’d been lonely and couldn’t stand it, I’d call him up and take advantage of the benefits he freely offered.

Besides Chris, I hadn’t been with a man in six years. Men were my drug. Staying away from them had been the only way I knew to stay clean. The only way to reinvent myself. Sleeping with Chris had even been a risk. I hadn’t learned until after he’d taken me that he wasn’t my drug of choice. Lucky for me.