"License number?"

"No license at all, Stacy. Nor a license applied for tag. Interesting, huh?"

Good scam. You don't want to be made, you remove your tag before you go to the scene. It's worth the chance of being pulled over without one.

"How many cherry-red Audi TTs are there in the Dallas metro area?"

"We're working on that. Checking new leases and purchases as well."

Him. And Liberman. She was out.

Son of a b.i.t.c.h.

"Check police records, see if anyone driving a red TT was stopped without a tag?"

"On it. Anything else you can think of, I'd love to have."

She met his gaze defiantly. "Ditto."

"Just so you know, we've already got a subpoena coming for the doc's phone records, home, business

and cellular."

She let out a long breath. Resigned. Hurting for her sister. For Ian. "Anything else?" she asked.

"Yeah." He paused. "Liberman's picking up a search warrant for the office now. I'm sorry, Stacy. d.a.m.n

sorry."

TWENTY - 0 N E.

Wednesday, October 22, 2003.

7:30 p.m.

Jane sat curled up on the couch, Ranger next to her, big head on her lap. Though wrapped in an afghan, she couldn't seem to get warm. She hadn't been able to since her sister left.

Jane squeezed her eyes shut, recalling the words she had flung at her sibling. Angry words. Unfounded

accusations. Ones born of fear.

Truth was, her sister had been trying to help. By coming to her, Stacy had put their relationship before

her job. And as much as Jane wanted to deny it, none of this was Stacy's doing. To lash out at her sister had been wrong. It had been childish and unkind.

Stacy was her sister. Her only family. And despite the bad feelings between them of late, Jane loved her.

Without pausing for second thought, she plucked the portable phone from the coffee table and punched

in Stacy's number. Her machine picked up on the third ring.

The moment the message ended, Jane began, afraid if she didn't she would wimp out. "Stacy, it's Jane.

I'm sorry for what I said. Forgive me. I was upset. Confused and...Call me. I really need-"

"You," Jane finished, though the machine had cut her off. "I really need you."

She ended the call, bent and pressed her head to Ranger's. "Why is this happening?" she asked aloud.

"Why are they targeting Ian? It's all wrong. Why can't they see that?"

Ranger whimpered in response. She rubbed her cheek against his soft fur, then straightened.

This was one of those nightmarish circ.u.mstances that sometimes befell ordinary people. A series of

events led innocent people to be targeted by law enforcement or government. Sometimes to be falsely

accused, their lives and careers thrown into chaos or destroyed.

Jane shuddered. That wasn't going to happen here. A real suspect would turn up and the police would shift their attention, properly, in that direction.

If she had the wherewithal to be philosophical, she would call the whole thing a life test, a character

builder.

But she didn't, dammit! This was her life. Her husband's life. Not only their future at stake, but that of their unborn child as well.

From the foyer she heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock, followed by the dead bolt sliding back.

Ian was home.

Ranger eased off the couch and trotted into the hall to greet him. She heard her husband speak to the dog and relief moved through her, that he was home and safe.

It doesn't look good for Ian. I suggest you contact a lawyer.

How was she going to tell him?

"Jane?" he called from the foyer.

"In here."

He appeared in the doorway. Their gazes met. At the hopeless expression in his, a sound of dismay

slipped past her lips. She stood and crossed to him. "Ian, what's happened?"

He took her into his arms and buried his face in her hair. "Shh. Don't talk. Not yet."

He held her tightly. Seconds ticked past, becoming minutes. A moment before he released her she

thought she felt him tremble.

He searched her expression. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. I-" She caught his hands, curled her fingers around his. "The police were back at your office,

weren't they?"

"Yes. They had a search warrant."

"A search warrant," she repeated. "My G.o.d, what did they hope to find?"

"They took the computers, my appointment book, some files. Rifled through everything else. I'm scared,

Jane."

"But you haven't done anything wrong!"

"I don't think that matters."

"Of course it matters." She tightened her grip on his fingers. "How long were they there?"

"A good hour." His voice shook. "The big guy, Stacy's partner, questioned me. He wanted to know what

time I went in this morning, when Marsha and I last spoke, what we talked about. He asked about my relationship with Elle, Marsha, my other patients. He asked me if I-"

He bit the words back, as if he were choking on them.

"What?" she asked. "What did he-"

"I love you, Jane. More than I ever thought it possible to love. Do you believe that?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Promise you won't stop loving me."

"Now you're scaring me. Stop it."

"Promise," he said fiercely. "Promise that no matter what they say about me, you won't stop loving me."