When I pulled into my parking spot, Marco was leaning against his Prius, arms folded, an inscrutable look on his face. Rafe saw him and groaned. "This is gonna be bad."

I took a deep breath, stuffed my anxiety inside a balloon, and blew it out. Time to face the music. I glanced at Rafe. "Ready?"

We got out and slammed the doors. "Hey, bro," Rafe said, striding around to the pa.s.senger side of Marco's car. "I'm beat. Let's go."

"Hold it," Marco said. "Come back here."

I stood beside my car, twisting my keys in my hand. Marco was one parking s.p.a.ce away. "You, too," he said to me. "Come here."

Like errant schoolchildren, we stood in front of him, guilty looks on our faces. "I can explain," I said, shivering in the cold night air. "This wasn't Rafe's fault."

"You're cold. Let's go inside and talk about it," Marco said.

"Now?" Rafe asked. "It's eleven thirty."

Marco shot him a look and Rafe shut up.

At my apartment, I offered beers to the brothers and both accepted. I handed out the beers; then Marco asked us to sit on the sofa. He rolled the desk chair around so he could face us. "Okay, Abby, you first."

Why was I thinking Spanish Inquisition?

Here we go, Abby. Make it good. I began by explaining how important it was for my own peace of mind to know Harding's condition, and that I'd only been looking out for Marco's peace of mind when I didn't tell him I'd gone to the hospital to find out. If I had told him, would he have been able to concentrate on his work? No. Would he have worried? Yes. Ergo, zipped lips.

Marco said nothing.

Next, I explained that Nikki had stumbled upon the existence of H. Bebe, and that I'd felt it important to find out if she was Charlotte's sister.

Marco still had no comment.

Finally, I said it was my idea to try the front door, and having found it unlocked, I checked inside the house to make sure there hadn't been any foul play. Unfortunately, the neighbors saw us and called the police. Fortunately, Reilly cleared us. Then I sat back and waited.

Marco leaned forward. "Tell me what you learned."

"Not to leave the apartment without letting you know our plans."

"I meant," Marco said, "what did you learn when you went inside the house?"

"Oh." What? No lecture? I glanced at Rafe, and he shrugged.

"Okay," I said, "judging by the half-eaten plate of food and open bottle of beer, and no car in the garage, I got the impression that someone left in a big hurry."

"Temperature of the food?" Marco asked.

"Mashed potatoes were cold; beer was warm."

"What else?"

"Upstairs in one of the bedrooms, we found men's clothing in one closet, but the other closet was empty. In the bathroom, we saw men's toiletries but not women's, and two drawers had been cleaned out."

"There was a Valentine in the woman's nightstand," Rafe added, "signed by someone named Tom."

"It has to be Harding," I said.

"Anything else?" Marco asked.

I thought about it for a moment, then shook my head.

Marco folded his arms. "You two had quite an evening."

"I'm sorry we interrupted your PI job, Marco," I said. "I hated having to ask Reilly to get us out of jail, and I know I shouldn't have gone without letting you know. But I did it, so yell if you want. I'm okay with that, although I think we've had enough punishment."

He raised an eyebrow inquiringly. "Are you done?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Good. Now do you want to hear what I found out?" he asked.

I glanced at Rafe in disbelief. To Marco I said, "Is that it? No lecture?"

"I don't see any reason for it. I'm betting the cops scared the living daylights out of you."

"Duh," Rafe said. "We had to chill at the police station for ninety-two freakin' minutes. They treated us like criminals."

"We entered someone's home illegally, Rafe," I said. "We are criminals."

"From now on I'm following your orders, bro, no matter how much the Abster begs."

I turned on Rafe with a glare. "I did not beg. I never beg, only suggest. And you are so not using my car tomorrow night."

"Hey," Marco said. "Let's move on. Do you want to hear what I found out? Good. First of all, the town house is listed as belonging to Tom Harding and H. Bebe, otherwise known as Honey B. Haven, as joint tenants in common."

"Honey B. Haven's real name is Honey Bebe?" I asked.

"That's how it appears," Marco said. "I couldn't find any record of a marriage to a Haven or Harding, but I did learn that Honey and Charlotte are sisters."

"Honey B. Haven," Rafe said, chortling. "I just got that."

"When did you have time to dig up all this information?" I asked Marco.

"After Reilly phoned to tell me where you were and why."

I felt my face turning red. "Sorry about that."

"I found it a little difficult to focus after that call."

"I'm sure you did."

Rafe yawned, obviously not feeling any guilt. "I'm not needed here, am I? Would you mind if I relax for a while?"

We vacated the sofa and headed for the dinette table. Rafe immediately stretched out and flipped on the TV.

"After Reilly's call," Marco said, picking up our conversation, "I dropped by the hospital and had a chat with Nikki. When she told me what was in Harding's chart, I went back to his hospital room to get a better look at his injuries."

Marco sat back, extending his long legs. "It was obvious the man took a severe beating, so I called Reilly back and asked if a police or accident report had been made on Harding. He found out that snowmobilers had found Harding in the woods late Wednesday night, barely clinging to life. He'd apparently been out there for some time. Since his wallet was taken, they're calling it a robbery, so whether it has anything to do with the kidnappings remains to be seen. But the Bebe connection makes me suspect it does.

"Here's something else I discovered," he said, pulling out his notebook and flipping up the cover. "Honey Bebe boarded a plane for France at eight thirty this evening. She bought a one-way ticket an hour and fifty minutes before the plane departed, so this wasn't a trip she'd planned in advance. That, along with your report that her clothes and makeup were gone, says she's on the run. The question is, who is she running from?"

"Maybe the detectives asked Honey to come down for an interview, and she was afraid they were going to link her with the kidnappings."

"I thought of that, so I called Detective Valderas and told him what I'd found out about Charlotte's sister. He didn't know what I was talking about."

"Are you telling me they haven't been looking for her sister?"

"They weren't aware she had a sister," Marco said in disgust. "And after I talked to Valderas, all he'd say was that they'd check into it."

"Will they?"

Marco lifted one shoulder, his cla.s.sic Italian shrug. Having been a police officer, Marco loathed to speak ill about fellow cops, but I could see the frustration in his tightly clenched jaw.

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

"We stop waiting for them to solve this case."

I wanted to stand up and cheer. Finally, we were back on the same page.

"Let's review what you saw at the town house," Marco said. He was so s.e.xy when he was intense. "You said the front door was unlocked. Was it standing open?"

Oh no! Was it?

"No," Rafe called. "Remember, Abby? You tried the k.n.o.b and the door opened."

"Right," I said, ignoring Marco's skeptical glance. "And what are the odds that a woman would leave her front door unlocked, especially after dark? It wouldn't happen."

"Was the garage attached to the town house?" Marco asked.

"Yes, accessible through a door in the kitchen."

Marco rubbed his jaw. "So I'm picturing Honey eating in the kitchen, hearing her front door open, then running out to the garage and taking off in her car."

"With her luggage already in the trunk," I added. "I'll bet you any money that after she got to the hospital and saw what happened to Harding, she decided to leave the country."

"But someone or something spooked her," Marco said, "causing her to leave sooner than she'd expected."

I sat back with a frustrated sigh. "With Honey out of the country, there's no one to say whether Raand is involved."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. First we need to find out whether Honey's departure and Harding's beating are related to the kidnappings, because if they aren't, we're wasting our time. We know it wasn't Raand who went after Honey because he's in police custody."

"He could have hired someone to go after Harding and Honey, maybe the same person who killed Hudge."

"But again, someone botched the job. Harding didn't die and Honey got away. And would Raand take that risk, considering the investigation is focused on him?"

"Maybe he was desperate."

Marco tapped his fingers on the table. "We need to know what evidence the DA has on Raand."

"Are you going to ask Reilly to help?"

"Nope." He closed his notebook and stood up.

"Who else is there? You nixed my grilling Morgan at dinner tomorrow."

Marco raised me up and pulled me into his arms. "I'm officially un-nixing you."

"Really?"

"Abby, I'm counting on you to do what you do best."

Awesome. "So"-I gave him a flirtatious glance-"you're not angry about Rafe and me going up to New Buffalo?"

"Don't push your luck," he said with a little quirk of his mouth. "But the next time you decide to take a road trip, would you please let me know? I hate hearing it from Reilly."

"I promise you'll be the first to know."

Marco shook his head. "It's a good thing I like incorrigible women."

"Excuse me? You mean woman, don't you?"

"I mean you." He dipped his head and our lips met, gently at first and then pa.s.sionately, our bodies melding, soft curves meeting hard muscle, making me forget everything but the man against me. He sure knew how to kiss.

A few moments later, a key turned in the lock and then Nikki called, "h.e.l.lo?"

Reluctantly, I broke away. "In here, Nikki. Marco and Rafe are here, too." I glanced at Marco and shrugged. "Sorry. Bad timing."

"Don't worry about it," Marco said, reaching for his jacket. "Now that Nikki's home, I'll run Rafe back to my place." He kissed me on the tip of my nose and went to rouse his brother, calling back, "You need to hit the sack, Sunshine. It's after midnight."

Ugh. He was right. I had to be up in less than six hours.

Nikki peered around the corner. "So," she said in a whisper, "everything okay?"

I knew she meant Marco and me. "We're fine. I'll tell you more tomorrow."

"Hey, Nik, thanks for your help today," Marco said, pushing Rafe toward the door. "Dinner is on me tomorrow."

"About that," Nikki said. "We'll have to take a rain check. Greg has the flu. He left a message on my cell phone about an hour ago."

Didn't it figure that the one time I had Marco's permission to be nosy, I couldn't?

Wait. Yes, I could.