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“It’s my job.”

“Bullshit!” he roared, jabbing an accusatory finger at his ex-wife. “This is her shot, Regan! Her chance of a lifetime. Don’t you get it? I’m just supporting her any way possible and you should, too. I told Sphinx that we all were behind her and the project a hundred percent, that we’d all back her.”

“Not me,” Pescoli said.

“Why not, Mom?” Bianca twisted on the couch to take in the fight, and she glared at her mother.

“It’s not you, honey. I’ll always have your back, you know that. But I don’t like this whole shaky ‘reality’ show, and I use the term loosely, so for once I agree with your father here: I don’t trust Barclay Sphinx. The difference is that I’m not willing to jump in to play ball with him. And I certainly don’t like it that you’re caught in the middle.”

Bianca’s eyes began to sheen with unshed tears. “But I want this, Mom. More than anything.”

Luke was nodding vigorously. “’Course you do, honey. And it doesn’t matter what Mom says, Sphinx understands what I’m talking about, that you are a thousand-percent committed. And if he doesn’t come through . . .” Luke was shaking his head.

“If he doesn’t come through, what’re you going to do?” Gritting her teeth against the contraction, she forced out, “Look, Luke, I don’t think Barclay Sphinx broke any laws and if you have a problem with the contract Bianca signed, then hire a lawyer!”

“Not good enough,” he growled. “Bianca’s going to the filming tonight, and that’s that. We’ll see how things shake out.”

“You need to leave. We’ll deal with this,” she said as she heard the garage door roll open, and the pain increased, intense pressure building. Oh. Jesus. This time, she sucked her breath in through her teeth and grimaced. “Oh, God.”

“Mom?” Bianca said, her eyes filled with worry.

“I’m okay.” No, no, I’m definitely not.

The back door opened.

Santana and Jeremy walked in.

Just as her damned water broke.

* * *

Kywin Bell was in the wind.

As if he’d known that Alvarez was onto him, the kid had disappeared, Alvarez thought, as she drove back to the station. She’d tried to call his phone. No answer. She’d contacted his friends and gotten nowhere. The same had been true with his brother, Kip, who’d answered with, “Leave us the hell alone.” Kywin had been fired from his job and the place was closed for the night. None of the road deputies had reported seeing his vehicle.

He had to be in hiding. As if he’d felt the noose tightening and had gone underground. Well, he wouldn’t stay hidden forever.

She pulled into the sheriff’s office parking lot and headed inside. Pescoli hadn’t returned her call, which was odd, but the woman did have a family. Alvarez, on the other hand, lived alone, with her pets. O’Keefe stayed over when he was in town or she visited him, but, for the most part, she was married to her job. That . . . and her inability to get over the death of Dan Grayson. The unrequited feelings she’d had for her former boss had put some strain on their relationship. Grayson’s ghost still lingered around these halls, and she was susceptible to it. Especially at night, when the station was quieter and his office was dark.

And Dylan was no fool. He knew she struggled with emotions she couldn’t or wouldn’t name. Yet, he loved her still. “Idiot!” she admonished herself.

Their relationship was far from an ideal situation, she thought as she parked and stepped into the warm August night. The air was dry and dusty, but there was the promise of thunderstorms on the horizon, a small current of electricity that she felt in the stiff breeze that scattered leaves and debris across the parking lot.

Inside, the offices were quiet, a few detectives working, several road deputies collected in the lunchroom before they headed out for the night. Tonight, however, a light emanated from beneath the sheriff’s door, and she paused with her hand on the panels. Maybe she should let Blackwater know of the progress they were making.

What progress? You know the name of the father of the victim’s unborn child, and he’s missing. Wait until you talk to Kywin Bell and put the screws to him, then discuss it with Pescoli before going to the sheriff with only half-baked theories.

She was about to step into her office when she spied Zoller heading her way. “Glad I caught you,” Sage said without preamble. “I was about to leave for the night when I got a call from Carlton Jeffe. The guy with the drone.”

“Yeah?”

“Seems as if he’s found something with his drone. Possibly another dead body.”

“Another? Whose?” she asked, a needle of dread piercing her heart. Kywin Bell was missing. No one was claiming to have heard from him.

“Unknown. Rescuers are on their way.”

“Where?”

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