And that the con knew him for a Fed.

Chapter 6.

Out in the hall, Billy Books cussed silently. Stern hadn't warned him there'd be a fed in with the broad. That would cost him.

He saw the pay phone, looked both ways, then with his back to the wall, he dialed Stern's cell phone number. It was gonna cost him big time.

Seated at a borrowed desk in the local Bureau field office, Bryn was going through reports, hoping they'd take the bad taste out of her mouth from her visit to TelTech. It galled her that the law forced her to be on the side of someone so subtly scummy. She'd use him to catch Phagan, but she'd make damn sure she found his nasty secret and took him out, too.

An agent cleared his throat nervously and Bryn realized she was scowling. She used a red tipped finger to mark her place in a report, before looking up at him. "Yes, what is it?"

"I think we got ourselves a laundering op running out of that bar you asked me to check out."

"Really?" Bryn gave him the nod to sit down. Resting her elbows on the pile of reports, she applied pressure to her temples.

Once seated, he leaned forward, using his hands to emphasize his points. "It?s got all the markers. A complex trail of dummy corporations leading to more dummy corporations, dead or MIA directors." He shrugged. "Sure as hell haven?t found a JR anywhere in the mix."

Bryn frowned. "Local PD says He's a big-deal Texan."

"More like a big-deal invisible man. I'm betting it's an ID built on a grave. Vintage Phagan work. Missed on our first, quick check on them."

"You running background checks on the employees?"

He nodded.

"Good." She rubbed between her eyebrows, noting absently that she needed to pluck. "Keep digging. Find me the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. ASAP."

"You want I should put someone in the bar?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "Jake Kirby's already in. So far he?s cooperating. Let's not muddy the waters."

"Right." He left, but Bryn didn't go back to her reading. The reports were dull stuff for whirling thoughts to light on. Phagan was there, a shadowy figure just out of her reach.

What was he up to now? Where did an obscure country bar fit into his plans? Was this one of his crumbs, leading her where he wanted her to go? Or a clever diversion planned to keep her attention away from his real objective? Or was it?s discovery, like Ollie's death, just another piece of bad luck, one Phagan was hoping she wouldn't notice?

Please, let it be door number three.

Phoebe headed for her SUV, while her thoughts circled uneasily around the summons from Dewey.

Queen to king's three.

How did she feel about it? Was she really ready to face her sisteR's murderer?

For answers to these and other questions, stay tuned to this brain, she thought, with a wry calm that surprised her. Somehow she'd expected to feel more. This was it.

Closure time. She shined a light inside her head and found no sign of triumph and plenty of fear.

It had been seven years, but some things wouldn't have changed. He'd still be a dirty fighter, a mean survivor, and a dangerous adversary.

Obviously his guy had found the fliers when he killed Ollie and he'd moved to get his gnarly guy in to check out the bar. Though he hadn't sent his best man, Phoebe noted as she spotted without seeming to, the beefy goon lying in wait across the road, only partially shielded by trees.

Hard to know whether to be insulted or relieved.

She slid behind the wheel and fired the engine, her wheel-spinning start sending a wave of gravel flying out from beneath her tires all the way to the paved road. She turned toward town, noting without surprise the man's truck sliding into place at a barely discreet distance behind her.

Halfway to town, Jake's truck popped up behind the tail.

"Who are you following, Curious Jake? Me or him?"

She'd noticed how quickly he'd smelled what was rotten in the guy's Denmark, but what had the guy smelled about Jake? They hadn't circled each other snarling, but there'd been a hair-raising tension crackling between them. The explanation that fit best was that Jake was some kind of a cop. But what kind? He didn't act like any cop Phoebe knew, despite her long association with the less-than-law-abiding Phagan.

Of course, this deal with Harding was the first time Phagan had let her so close to the action. Other than a couple of new recruits, Phoebe was the only one in Phagan's little gang without a record for even a small infraction. Never even got a speeding ticket, though she'd bantered with one of the local cops prior to his marriage a couple of years ago. Well, the search for light and knowledge about Jake Kirby would have to wait until after she jerked Harding?s chain. Which meant she had to lose both the tail and the tail's tail.

She passed into the outskirts of Estes Park and prepared for the first turn, automatically checking her rearview before moving over. Both tail and Jake moved over, taking the turn with her. She took several more turns, random ones now, and the truck followed, with dumb, dogged persistence, letting her lead him astray.

"Guys, any other day I'd enjoy this." Now was not a good time to be lead car in a three-car parade. She lifted the armrest between the seats where her car phone nestled out of sight and punched in a phone number, then left it on speaker, because she didn't want her quarry to see her making a call that might give away the surprise.

"Estes Park Police Department."

"Is that you Honk?"

"Well, as I live and breathe, Phoebe Ann?"

"The one and only, darlin'."

"What can the Estes Park PD's finest do for you?"

"What you do so well, Honk. Arrest someone."

"Damn." Jake watched the patrol car with lights flashing come between him and Phoebe's tail. Phoebe's SUV turned a corner. Jake hesitated only briefly before deciding to stick with her tail and not with her. He pulled into the curb well back but with a good view of the truck.

The officer slid out of his cruiser and approached the truck alertly. The guy got out, his hands visible. He'd done this scene before. The officer said something. The guy protested. The cop went to the rear of the truck, kicked out a taillight, then pointed to it.

A setup. Damn. Jake hated it when a lead got busted. He shifted into drive and pulled around the two stopped cars. As he passed, the guy took a swing at the cop. Jake's last view as he rounded a bend was of the guy spread-eagled on the ground getting cuffed. Phoebe's work was nice, though. He had a feeling she'd be one hell of a chess opponent.

When Jake didn't follow her, Phoebe took a few random turns to make sure she really was clear, then got back on course. Jake, she admitted freely, Wasn't the only one who was curious. And, she admitted, not quite so freely, her curiosity Wasn't nearly as impersonal as she would have liked it to be.

Jake could have noticed the guy's interest and followed to protect her, but just because he was her enemy's enemy didn't make him her friend or mitigate the very real threat he could be to her and her friends. It was one thing if it was just she at risk, but it Wasn't.

Her loyalty belonged to Kerry Anne first, her friends second, and the game they were running next, with her hormones coming in a distant last. She couldn?t let herself get distracted by Jake, not right now. He Wasn't, she could tell, going to go away, and not because she was spinning his hormonal wheels. He had a law-abiding interest in their game, probably because of her stupid phone call to Phagan's last apartment in Montana.

She pulled into the parking lot in front of an office bearing a brass plate in the window with uninformative inscription, Smith's and stared ahead without seeing it. She was on the tightrope. There was no going back just because a curious stranger with a cute ass was swinging in and out of her view.

She gave herself a firm shake and climbed out. This was not a good time to lose her concentration, not when she was about to face him. She let herself in, locking the door-and all thoughts of anything but her next step-behind her. The door secured, she passed through the silent office with its skeleton furniture without turning on any lights until she came to a bathroom with a lighted vanity set up in one corner. A cabinet held the basic bathroom necessities, with a locked closet next to it.

Phoebe dug out her keys and opened the closet, revealing a small wardrobe and a theater-style make up set up, complete with wigs and prosthetics.