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314 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2010

"Well, we're all victims of our childhoo, I suppose. Dad was tough on you, too."
"He couldn't beat me down," he recalled. "He got furious at me, but he respected me."
"That was probably what saved you from the treatment I got." She sighed. "It was twelve years ago when she left. I was ten. Ten years old."
"I was technically an adult," he recalled. "Clark was in junior high." He shook his head. "I still don't understand why she left Dad for our uncle. He was a shallow man, no real character and no work ethic. It's no surprise to me that he was dealing drugs. He always did look for the easy way to get money. Dad bailed him out of jail more than once for stealing."
"Yes," Winnie said icily. "Those Sinclairs. My people are related to every royal house in Europe. My great-grandmother was the daughter of a title Spanish don, and quite wealthy. Her mother was the niece of the King of Spain."Otherwise, she's kind of bland and a bit of a doormat. While I liked her show of spirit in Nassau, it seemed out of character for her. It felt like she had no pride in herself when she accepted Kilraven's arrangement in hopes of getting something better, despite his warnings.
He chuckled. "Point to you, Miss Sinclair." He started to open the door and then hesitated, frowning. "Sinclair. Do you know your family history?"He blew hot then cold with Winnie, and his great plan for the next step in his investigations was repulsive.
"Sort of," she said, disconcerted. "My people came from Scotland."
His silver eyes twinkled.
"Why does that amuse you?"
"Lord Bothwell married Mary Queen of Scots after the suspicious death of her husband, Lord Darnley. Bothwell's mother was a Sinclair."
"Why are you so interested in Bothwell?" she asked.
He pursed his lips. "My ancestors were Hepburns."
"Who?" Gail wanted to know.
"Harley Fowler. He works for Cy Parks on his ranch."
Gail shook her head. "That's after my time, I'm afraid. I don't know Mr. Parks."
"He's very nice."
"Nice." Kilraven chuckled. He glanced at her. "Listen, that old lobo wolf may be married and have kids, but don't think he's tame."
"I forgot," she told Gail with a smile. "Mr. Parks was a professional soldier, a mercenary, for many years before he settled in Jacobsville. We all thought he was just another rancher until drug lords started settling up camp nearby. He and Dr. Micah Steele and Eb Scott went after the drug lords with Harley, and shut down the whole operation."
"I did hear about that," Gail replied, smiling. "It was in all the papers, even on the television news. No interviews, though."
"That would take magic," Kilraven commented. "None of those dudes likes publicity, even now that they've retired. Well, maybe Eb Scott wouldn't mind. He runs a state-of-the-art training camp for counter-terrorism in Jacobsville. We use his firing range for practice. It's formidable."
"So is Mr. Scott, from what we hear." Winnie laughed. "He got married, too, a few years back. He and his wife have a son, I believe."
The intercom buzzed. Jon answered it.
"Agent Wilkes is on his way in with Agent Salton, and you're all due for a meeting in ASAC Grier's office in ten minutes," Joceline said in a voice dripping with sugar. "Would you like coffee and donuts?"
Jon looked surprised, as he should have. Ms. Perry never volunteered to fetch snack food. "That would be nice."
"There's a Dunkin' Donuts shop around the corner," she reminded him. "If I were you, I'd hurry."
"I'd hurry?" he repeated.
"Yes, because my job description requires me to type and file and answer phones. Not be a caterer," she added, still sugary. She hung up.
"One day, so help me, she'll drive me to drink and you'll have to bail me out of some jail where I'll be surrounded by howling mad drug users," Jon gritted.
Kilraven patted him on the shoulder. "Now, now, don't let your blood pressure override your good sense."
"If I had good sense, I'd ask for reassignment to another field office, preferably in the Yukon Territory!" he said loud enough for Ms. Perry to hear him as he opened his office door.
"Oooh, polar bears live there," she said merrily. "And they eat people, don't they?"
"You wish, Ms. Perry," he shot back.
"Temper, temper," she chided.
Jon was almost vibrating, he was so angry. Kilraven smothered laughter.
"I'll call you," he told his brother. "And thanks for the information."
"Just don't go off half-cocked and get in trouble with it," Jon said firmly.
"You know me," Kilraven said in mock astonishment. "I never do anything rash!"
Before Jon could reply, Kilraven walked out the door.
The victim was lying facedown on the sofa. There was a very large knife sticking out of his back.
Kilraven glanced at the female detective sergeant. "I thought they said you were at the scene of a suicide, Rogers," he remarked.
"Sure. Suicide. He obviously stabbed himself in the back." She rolled her eyes.
"Sure. You can do that, you just have to have really long arms," Alice Jones - whose last name was now Fowler - told her, walking into the room with an evidence bag she'd just collected. Behind her was the photographer who was recording the scene. Another crime scene technician was using a vacuum collection system to suction possible trace evidence in the form of hair and fiber from the carpet around the body, and still another had an ultraviolet flashlight with which he was searching for traces of blood and bodily fluids on nearby surfaces. "What are you doing in here messing up my crime scene, Kilraven?" she added with a grin. "This isn't a federal suicide."
"From where I'm standing, this isn't a suicide, period," Kilraven returned.
"His wife says it is," Alice murmured. "In fact, she saw him do it."
His eyes narrowed. "She did."
"Yes. That was just before the two-headed cat flew in the window and attacked her."
* The heroine feels guilty for being angered at being USED by the hero
* The hero USES the heroine to avenge his dead daughter without ANY regard to her feelings which just so happened to included separating her from her virginal status when HE KNEW that she loved him. Wounded jerk!
* The heroine's mother, who did a vanishing act 12 years ago, gets indignant when faced with her misdeeds. The heroine actually feels guilty because of her anger-can you say therapy?-towards her mother. Whatever!