s.h.i.t.

There was a quarter-inch gap between the edge of her door and the stop. The door was closed, but it looked as it did when the dead bolt wasn't engaged.

She knew she had locked it.

Someone had been in her condo.

Or was still there.

She quietly backed away from the door.

If she could just get to the stairwell ...

Her door flew open!

She froze as she stared at the imposing figure of the person facing her.

Her mother.

"Why are you standing out there, Kendra?" She was frowning at her with an intimidating stare. "Are you really going to keep me waiting longer than you already have?"

Kendra pushed past her. "You scared the h.e.l.l out of me, Mom." She dropped her keys in the bowl on the table in the foyer and turned to look at her. Her mother was almost in her sixties, but she looked twenty years younger. She was tall and shapely, with sparkling brown eyes and dark brown hair that she wore in a chignon. She had style and presence and a royal disregard for anything that she considered unimportant. "For all I knew, there could have been a murderer in here."

"You probably would have preferred that."

"No comment. Why are you here? You're supposed to be in Cancun."

"I got bored. And annoyed. The cruise line hired a young ivory-tower progressive who thought he knew everything about the history of those Mayan pyramids. He wouldn't listen to me."

"Heaven forbid."

"Don't be sarcastic. I was just trying to help him. He was wrong."

Kendra didn't doubt that he had been if her mother said it was true. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming over?"

"I need to book my visits with you in advance?"

"Of course not. But you didn't know if I'd be here."

Her mother shrugged. "I took a chance."

Kendra smiled as she came down from the adrenaline surge she had felt in the hallway. Her mother was Dr. Deanna Michaels, history professor at UC San Diego. She had never suffered fools gladly, and her tough exams and withering stares had earned her the nickname of "Deanna Doom," which had stuck for as long as Kendra could remember. She had terrified generations of young men and women, but her mother did have her fans. She was unsurpa.s.sed in her ability to weave spellbinding lectures from even the most mundane historical incidents. She was brilliant, charismatic, and could be completely fascinating ... particularly to the young male students in her cla.s.ses.

"Besides, I had a surge of maternal feeling, and you weren't in Cancun. So I came back so that I could satisfy it." Her mother beamed at her. "It was fairly overwhelming. I would have even cooked dinner for you, but you have nothing in your refrigerator or pantry."

"You can't cook."

She shrugged. "There's that, too."

"I can order in some Thai."

"I'm afraid I can't stay, honey. I've already been here for over an hour, and I promised to have drinks with some educators visiting from London."

Kendra's gaze fell to her dining-room table, where every plant in her condo had been placed, along with her garden shears and watering can. "Don't tell me you came here just to do that."

"They don't just take care of themselves. They're living things, dear."

"Mom, the one on the end is made of silk."

Her mother picked it up and proudly displayed it. "Yes, but there was no shape to it. I gave it a once-over with the shears. It looks much better this way, don't you think?"

Kendra had to admit that it did.

"But no, that's not why I'm here. I heard a nasty rumor that you were becoming involved with the FBI again. I wanted to make sure it's not true."

"A nasty rumor? Where did you hear this?"

"My sources are confidential."

"Spill it."

"Oh, all right. Your friend Olivia told me."

"Olivia? Are you serious?" Kendra tried to remember the last time Olivia and her mother had been in the same room together. Five years, maybe longer? Olivia loved Deanna but she was wary of having her life taken over by Kendra's mother. "Olivia actually looked up your number and called you to tell you-?"

"Oh, no dear. We're Facebook friends."

"Facebook?" Kendra was aware she must be wearing a stunned expression. She knew that, thanks to the ClickHear Web Accessibility software, Olivia spent a good deal of time on the Internet, but this was still weird. "I'm trying to imagine you spending time on that, but I just can't make the picture in my head."

"I do it on my phone. In checkout lines, doctor's office waiting rooms ... But we're getting off track here. Tell me you're not really being sucked back into being some kind of crime fighter."

"You make me sound like a superhero."

"You're no superhero. That was what was wrong with your relationship with that young man, Jeff. He was much too idealistic and with no practicality. I was very grateful when you decided to break with him. And the sooner you realize that though you're a brilliant woman, that doesn't necessarily translate to being some kind of superdetective, the better."

"You're lecturing me, Mom. Back off."

"Of course I'm lecturing you. It's what I do best. Now why would you become involved again? You told me that you wouldn't-"

"It's Jeff, Mom. He's missing."

Her mother was silent. "Missing how?"

"As in vanished off the face of the earth."

"More." Her mother was staring at her with narrowed eyes.

And she wouldn't be giving up until she knew everything that Kendra knew. Give in. It would be easier than trying to argue or avoid. "Okay. Here's what I know. It isn't that much."

She filled her mother in on Jeff's case and her meetings with Lynch and the FBI team, taking care to leave out the part about gunshots being fired at her that afternoon. No use arousing any more of those protective feelings that were already proving difficult.

After Kendra finished, her mother slowly nodded. "I know I can't stop you from doing this. But at least allow me to get a bodyguard for you."

"A bodyguard? Are you serious?"

"You won't even know he's there."

"What makes you such an expert?"

"It doesn't take an expert to make good judgments."

Kendra froze as a thought occurred to her. "Oh, no. Don't tell me this is one of your boy toys."

"That's not nice, and it denigrates my relationship with Todd. First, he's a young man, not a boy. He's a graduate student, and I was very careful not to see him outside cla.s.s until I was no longer teaching him. You make it sound as if I'm having some sleazy s.e.xual affair with him. I never let it get that far." Her eyes were suddenly twinkling. "I wouldn't want to spoil him for lesser women. We just enjoy each other's company."

Kendra shook her head. Her mother held a strong fascination for her young male pupils despite the fact that she was definitely an older woman. "And you're telling me that the question never came up?"

"No, I won't tell you that, but it never happens. If it does, I send them regretfully on their way." She sighed. "Very regretfully. They're such great playmates."

"But, dammit, why not play with someone your own age?"

"Men my own age want permanency and lack the concept that there might be adventure right around the corner." Her lips tightened. "Your father was like that. He had a sluggish mind, and I couldn't make him move. I knew I could find a way to make you see. I knew it. But he wouldn't go that extra step. It scared him, and all he wanted to do was run away." She shrugged. "Usually with the first attractive woman who didn't nag him to be something he never wanted to be."

Several attractive women, Kendra remembered. Her mother had never let her be exposed to the conflict between them, but Kendra had been aware that her father had lady "friends." She had accepted it as a fact of life. After her parents' divorce, she had spent little time with her father and his current mistress. She had always felt uncomfortable, probably because she sensed he was uncomfortable. "Did you ever love him?"

"Of course I did. He was charming, s.e.xy, smart, and I was stubborn enough to think that I could make him what I wanted him to be. But then you came along, and I realized that I didn't have the time or inclination to help him grow up when he became part of the problem." She shrugged. "So when I divorced your father, I swore off permanency for life. Most young men don't want permanency. They look on me with respect for my mind and maybe have a slight yearning for me to be their big wicked affair." Her smile was dazzling. "I'm no Mrs. Robinson, Kendra. I just like an occasional challenge."

No one should know better than Kendra how her mother embraced a challenge. Kendra herself had been the greatest challenge her mother had ever faced. She had met that challenge with strength and determination and implacable resolve. She had pushed and explored every avenue that would make life everything it could be for Kendra. She had made her self-sufficient when she was blind, then gone after the best doctors to find the medical bra.s.s ring that had given Kendra her sight. And through all the pushing, probing, and constant encouragement, there had never been a doubt in Kendra's mind of her mother's love for her. Deanna had wrapped Kendra in love even while she had forced her to develop her independence. She had been magnificent. She was still magnificent. Why the h.e.l.l should Kendra judge her mother? She just wished that she'd find her present challenges in another direction.

"Todd works security at the university stadium," her mother said brusquely. "He's six-five, 230 pounds, muscular..." She smiled mischievously. "And I'm sure he has lots of stamina. You might try him. He could keep you amused as well as protected. He tells me all about his-"

"TMI, Mom. TMI."

"Todd and I are great friends. He would do anything for me. If you'd like, I can have him tag along with you wherever you-"

"No!"

"You'd rather I worry about you?"

"I'm sure Todd can keep you occupied."

"These days, I'm spending more time with David. He's not as intelligent as Todd, but he has-"

Kendra cut her off. "I don't want to hear it. We both know that you only play around with these young Adonis types because you're not tempted to make any kind of commitment. Get real. None of those guys could provide you with more than a fleeting challenge. You're too strong."

Her smile faded. "Get real? No way. Fifteen years with your father was all the reality I need."

Kendra mentally kicked herself for dampening her mother's ebullience. The woman deserved every bit of the happiness she could wring from life. "I know, Mom. You're right. But I really don't need a bodyguard."

"Fine, but if you change your mind..."

Kendra nodded. "I'll know that you have a piece of beefcake just waiting in the wings." She gave her a quick hug. "Now go on to your dinner, or you'll be late. I'm going to be fine."

Her mother didn't move.

Kendra sighed with frustration as she recognized that expression. She'd have to find another argument. "I'm not going to be alone. I don't need your Todd. Didn't Olivia mention that I'm working with an agent who used to be with the Bureau? I a.s.sure you that your friend, Todd, wouldn't stand a chance against Lynch."

Deanna tilted her head. "No? Tough?"

"Extremely."

Her mother was gazing at her thoughtfully. "You could be trying to throw me off the track."

"Yes, but I'm not."

"I believe you. You wouldn't lie to me." Her mother turned toward the door. "But I've lost a little faith in your opinions since you became involved with Jeff Stedler. I believe I'll have to meet this Lynch person and judge for myself."

Oh, Lord, she could see her mother confronting Lynch with her usual explosive tenacity. It would be disaster- No, it would be funny as h.e.l.l. Let Lynch try to manipulate Deanna. Kendra would enjoy sitting back and watching the fireworks.

She grinned and gave her mother another hug. "Yes, by all means. You two have got to get together."

State Route 16

11:46 P.M.

Paul Renshaw cursed as his car sputtered on the lonely stretch of road outside of Escondido. Piece of s.h.i.t. Weren't Volvos supposed to be dependable?

He had been watching the Padres game at his favorite Gaslamp Quarter watering hole, and stayed to talk to the cute new bartender, a college girl who was at least fifteen years younger than he. As much as he didn't want to break down in the middle of nowhere, he really didn't relish the possibility of a police officer happening upon him and smelling the alcohol on his breath.

An array of indicators lit up the dashboard, and he realized that the engine had conked out entirely.

Great. Just great.

He pulled hard on the wheel and eased his car over to the side of the road. He cut the headlights and glanced around.

It was even darker than he had thought. The lights of San Diego cast a faint glow in the sky behind him, but ahead there was nothing but a black void. He checked his phone, and, surprisingly, there was service. He called the auto club, gave his information, and was told to wait forty-five minutes to an hour for a tow truck.

Which really meant an hour and a half, minimum.

Dammit.