"She's come a long way to find out what happened to her, taken a few hard knocks trying to dig up information." She knew he was talking about Kyle Bennett and how close she had come to being raped. It made her stomach churn to think of it. "She has a right to know."

"If that's what you want."

"She...she isn't dead?" Amy blurted out, her chest squeezing as the thought struck that he might have come for that reason.

"No, not that we know of." Vega took a drink of his coffee. "The thing is, I've been keeping an eye on Rachael's file. I figured if something new turned up you'd want to know."

"So what turned up?"

"One of the undercover narcs picked up a rumor. Street talk has it Rachael was involved with Manny Ortega."

Johnnie hissed out a breath.

"You can say that again," Vega added.

"Who's Manny Ortega?" Amy asked.

"He's the son of a big-time drug dealer," Johnnie explained. "Carlos Ortega's a high-ranking member of the San Dimas cartel. Their territory runs from here all the way into the Baja Peninsula."

"Carlos Ortega-El Caballo," Vega said. "They call him The Horse. He's into everything from cocaine to human trafficking and anything in between. So far he's been able to skirt the law and get away with it. He's powerful and as mean as they come."

"Carlos lives on a guarded estate in Ensenada but his son lives here in L.A.," Johnnie explained.

The detective took a drink of his coffee. "Manny's tried to keep his nose clean, but Papa wants his little boy to take over the business. Manny's not a guy your sister should have gotten involved with."

Amy's heart was beating a little too fast. "Maybe she wasn't. You said it was only a rumor." She looked over at Johnnie, saw sympathy etched in his face. Her eyes widened. "Oh, my G.o.d. It wasn't Danny, it's Manny." And she could tell by looking at him, Johnnie had already figured that out.

Vega sipped his coffee. "If the rumor's true, she was playing with fire. If Ortega wanted her to disappear, we might not ever find her."

Amy looked away. Her chest felt tight as she walked to the window above the kitchen sink and stared outside, seeing nothing but sky and the flowers planted along the drive. It was clear today, not smoggy or cloudy, as it was on occasion. The sun was shining, warming the kitchen, but Amy felt cold to the bone.

"Listen, I've got to go." The detective took a last drink of his coffee then set the empty mug on the kitchen counter. "It was nice meeting you, Amy."

She turned. "You, too, Detective. Whatever happens, I really appreciate your help."

He just nodded. Johnnie walked him to the door. Though Vega spoke softly, she could hear enough to know she was the topic of conversation.

"She's a what?" Vega said incredulously.

"Kindergarten teacher."

"I saw her dancing at the club. What the h.e.l.l is a schoolteacher doing in a place like that?"

She couldn't hear Johnnie's reply but she a.s.sumed he was saying she was trying to find her sister.

Vega flicked her a final glance and she thought it held a hint of respect that hadn't been there before. He mentioned something about Rachael, then disappeared out the door.

When Johnnie returned, his features looked grim. "That wasn't good news," he said. "Carlos Ortega's as bad as they come."

Amy bit her lip and turned away. She heard his footfalls coming up behind her, then his arms slid around her waist, easing her back against his chest. His body heat dispelled some of her chill.

"We'll keep looking," he said softly, "if that's what you want. But sooner or later, baby, you'll have to come to grips with the fact your sister might have done something to p.i.s.s off the wrong people. If she did..."

She turned in his arms and looked up at him. "If she did, she's probably dead."

Johnnie made no reply, which was a reply in itself.

Amy swallowed, blinked back the faint burn of tears. "To tell you the truth, deep down I've been afraid she might...afraid she might be dead from the start. We weren't close anymore, and Rachael and my mother didn't always get along, but she wouldn't have wanted us to worry. She would have reached us by now if she could have."

"I know it isn't what you planned, but maybe you should go home."

Amy slipped out of his arms. "I came to find out what happened to her. That hasn't changed. I'm not leaving. Not until I know the truth."

Johnnie said nothing.

"I don't expect you to keep working for free. You've done more than enough already."

Johnnie bent down and lightly brushed her lips. "I told you I'm running a tab. Last night was just a down payment."

She fought a blush. Looping her arms around his neck, she went up on her toes and very softly kissed him. She knew he didn't expect that kind of payment and never had.

"Thank you," was all she said.

Johnnie was saved by the ringing of his cell. One little kiss and he was getting hard. He couldn't remember a woman who aroused him the way Amy did. Still he had work to do.

Digging his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, he checked the caller ID. Trace Rawlins.

"Hey, Ghost, you got something for me?"

"Yes and no," Trace said. "No sign of Rachael Brewer on any airplane pa.s.senger manifests. Doesn't mean she didn't make the trip."

Johnnie frowned. "You're thinking they could have flown private."

"It's possible."

"Probably need a jet to travel that far."

"So who was Rachael seeing with that kind of money?"

Johnnie thought of the news Rick Vega had brought. "Word is she might have been seeing Manny Ortega."

"Carlos Ortega's son?"

"That would be him." On the other end of the line, Johnnie could hear the clatter of computer keys as Trace pounded the keyboard.

"Looks like good ol' Carlos owns a Citation. A Sovereign. That's the big one. Maybe Manny borrowed it to make the trip. Or maybe Daddy took them down."

"Could be they left from right here in L.A."

"Let me talk to Sol, see if he can get the call numbers. For international travel, the pilot would have to file a flight plan."

"If it's Ortega's jet, it probably left from Ensenada. Maybe stopped here, maybe went direct."

"Still goes. Carlos wouldn't want to break any laws...at least not the minor ones. I'll get back to you."

"Thanks, and thank Sol for me. Tell Annie to send me a bill." She was Trace's office manager and she ran the place like a drill sergeant.

Trace just laughed and hung up the phone.

"I guess your friend didn't find Rachael's name on any of the pa.s.senger lists."

Johnnie turned at the sound of Amy's voice. "No."

"But you think they could have traveled in a private plane."

"Jet, most likely."

"And Carlos Ortega owns one-that's what you said."

He nodded. "Trace is going to see if a flight plan was filed for a trip to Belize around the time Rachael disappeared."

Amy wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. Johnnie knew she was thinking that if Rachael went to Belize with the son of a drug lord and didn't come back, she was probably dead.

And she was exactly right.

"I...ummm...need to go home. Would you take me back, please?"

His gaze found hers and his jaw clenched. Taking Amy home meant taking her back to the Kitty Cat Club where tonight she would be dancing naked in front of a room full of s.e.x-hungry men. Every one of them would be fantasizing about the things he wanted to do to her in bed.

His stomach burned. For the first time in years, Johnnie had a woman in his house he didn't want to take home.

"You got your stuff?" he asked, reminding himself that taking her back was the only real option he had. Aside from the fantastic s.e.x, getting involved with a woman wasn't something he was willing to do.

Amy picked her purse up off the counter, grabbed the small red canvas pouch beside it, her toothbrush and makeup, he figured and almost smiled. Spending the night with a man she barely knew, Angel would have thrown caution to the wind, but Amy would want to be prepared. He wondered if she'd brought a handful of condoms, just in case.

He corrected himself. Before last night, Amy would have figured one would be enough.

As he walked her to the door, Johnnie grinned.

Fourteen.

The remote clicked and the garage door began to swing open. They had almost reached the car when Amy heard someone behind them.

"Johnnie! Oh, Johnnie!"

She turned to see an older woman, wavy silver hair, trim figure, jogging toward them.

A bemused expression settled on Johnnie's face. "Morning, Ellie."

"I didn't mean to bother you. I just happened to see you walk out of the house and thought I'd say h.e.l.lo."

"Yeah, well, h.e.l.lo."

Dressed in a navy blue jogging suit with a white stripe down the leg, breathing a little faster from her exertion, Ellie gave Amy a very thorough inspection. When Johnnie didn't introduce her, the woman smiled and stuck out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Eleanor Stiles. I live in the big house. And you must be...?"

Uncertain whether to say she was Amy or Angel, she looked up at Johnnie for guidance and he blew out a long, slow breath.

"Ellie, this is Amy Brewer. I'm helping her find her sister."

"Oh, yes, I believe you mentioned you were working on a missing persons case." Ellie turned to Amy. "I'm sorry to hear about your sister, but you've got a good man working for you. He'll do everything he can to find her."

Amy glanced over at Johnnie. "He isn't really working for me. He's helping me. I really appreciate it."

Ellie gave her an even more thorough perusal. "I see."

"Listen, we've got to go," Johnnie said. Setting a hand at Amy's waist, he steered her toward the car.

"It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Stiles," Amy called over her shoulder.

"It's just Ellie," she called back, "and it was nice meeting you, too, dear."

Johnnie said nothing as he backed out of the garage and the car rolled down the driveway.

"She's your landlady, right?"

"That's right. My very nosy landlady."

"She seemed nice."

He smiled. "Ellie's great. Just kind of a busybody. She's been a very good friend."

Amy wondered if he had been living in Ellie's guesthouse when his sister had been killed. "How long have you known her?"

He caught her eye in the mirror. Though he had only just shaved, a faint shadow had begun to darken his jaw.

"After I left the army, I traveled around for a while. I did some private security work out of the country. I moved in a couple of years after I got back to the States."

And they had been friends ever since, the kind of friend who would have helped him through the pain of losing his sister.

As the Mustang continued down the hill, Amy thought of her own sister. Detective Vega believed Rachael had been involved with the son of a notorious drug lord. But there wasn't any proof, and rumor and conjecture didn't make it true.