"It's something from when you were a soldier, isn't it?"

He glanced down at her.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it," she said. She pressed a kiss into his palm, and something twisted inside him. "I have stuff like that, too."

She nestled closer and tucked her head against his chest. Her ear was right next to his heart, and he wondered if she could hear it pounding, if she could sense how uncomfortable he was. He'd never been tempted to talk about this, especially not with a woman. But something about her leaving it alone made him think maybe she'd understand better than most.

He tightened his hold around her. "Tell me about your day."

Now she was the one to tense up.

"I was at a crime scene when you called, or I would have picked up," he said, combing a hand through her hair.

"The closet case?"

"Fiona told you?"

She sighed against his skin. "Yeah. She was really upset about it. I spoke with her on the phone."

"So what happened this afternoon?"

"Someone tried to kill me."

He bolted upright. "What?"

"They came after me at the Internet cafe-"

"Did you call the police?"

"I called you."

She lay there, looking up at him, and he was skewered by guilt. She'd called him. And he'd been too busy to deal with it.

"What happened?" he demanded, searching her for signs of injury.

She sat up and scooted back against the pillows. Then she pulled the sheet up and tucked it around her. "I was doing some research at an Internet cafe. I found this video clip-"

"You were attacked at a coffee shop?"

"Just outside. The black Escalade pulled up and-"

"Goddamn it, what were you doing there?"

"I was researching something."

He clenched his teeth and tried to rein in his temper. If he overreacted now, she wouldn't tell him the full story. "And then what?"

He listened, grinding his teeth to nubs, as she told him about being chased through restaurants and down alleyways until she was lucky enough to hop on a bus without getting gunned down by some thug, probably the same thug who'd tried to kill her at Zilker Park. Will watched her recount everything, amazed that she could be so calm right now. He wanted to take someone apart.

"So that's why I came here," she said now. "I didn't want to lead them to Fiona. Or to Amy and Devon. I didn't want to go anywhere but here."

"You need to report this. We need to talk to my lieutenant-"

"Fine, I'll do all that. But maybe tomorrow, okay? I don't want to think about it right now. I just want to be here."

He closed his eyes briefly, realizing now just how badly he'd screwed this up. He'd let this get personal. And now he was going to have a hell of a time doing his job. How could he protect her-not to mention clear her name-if he couldn't even listen to her talk without going ballistic over the danger she was in?

He clasped her shoulder. "I'm going to get you some police protection."

"Okay."

"I'll talk to Cernak, see what we can set up, all right?" Even if it had to be him, and Nathan, and whoever else he could drum up-he was going to get someone on her twenty-four/seven. "This isn't going to happen again."

"Okay."

He studied her face in the lamplight. She looked way too nonchalant about this, as if it didn't matter what he did.

She leaned forward, and the sheet dropped away. "Let's worry about this tomorrow." She kissed him.

"We should go in tonight."

"Tomorrow." She kissed him again and slid onto his lap.

"First thing, Courtney. I mean it."

She settled herself on top of him and draped her arms over his shoulders. "First thing."

Nathan made it back to the barbecue joint in record time. He sat down in front of the pretty PI and noticed her beer was exactly the level it had been when he left. She was stub born, and he wouldn't be surprised if she left it sitting there, untouched, just to piss him off.

"Is this a top-secret file?" she asked, and nodded at his thick brown folder.

"Not really." He pulled out several large Ziploc bags containing yellow sheets of legal paper. He selected the first letter he'd received and placed it in front of her.

"Any of that gibberish mean anything to you?"

She pulled the page closer and hunched over it, resting her elbows on the table. "'No evil I did, I live on'? What's it mean?"

"I don't know."

Her finger went to the bottom of the page where someone-presumably Martin Pembry-had sketched a fairly good depiction of Lady Justice. She was blindfolded and holding a scale.

"'Level, madam, level!'"

"I think he's referring to the scale," Nathan said, somewhat proud to have made the connection.

Alex frowned down at the page. It wasn't so much a letter as it was a collection of phrases and doodles. All of the notes he'd received from the professor-two at work and two at home-had been similar. All yellow sheets of legal paper, folded up and stuffed into business envelopes with MR. DEVEREAUX, HOMICIDE UNIT printed neatly on the front above an address.

Alex tapped her finger on something scrawled in the margin beside what looked like a caricature of a bald man with glasses. "Who's 'Dr. Awkward'?"

"Got me. I thought you might know. Sounds like maybe a nickname. He mentions someone named Sarah there, too. Is that your client?"

She didn't say anything, just stared at the page. He watched her face, searching for a clue, but she gave nothing away.

"Or maybe your client's a doctor?" he asked.

"Oh, my God." She looked up at him, her eyes bright with excitement. "This guy's a professor, right? Does he teach English?"

Nathan frowned. "Linguistics. Why?"

"It's a palindrome."

"A who?"

"A palindrome," she said, turning the page around for him to see. "It reads the same forward and backward. 'Harass selfless Sarah.' See? And this one here: 'Evil is a name of a foeman, as I live.'"

"Holy shit," Nathan muttered, gazing down at the page. It seemed so obvious now. He'd read these things over and over and never spotted it. He glanced up at Alex. "How did you know that?"

"I grew up in a family of crossword freaks." She grinned. "We played Scrabble every Sunday. Let me see another one."

He slid another page to her, feeling a little dizzy. He knew what it was now, but what did it mean? And why had some guy mailed all this to a homicide detective right before he disappeared?

"A lot of these seem to reference good and evil," she said. "And those are the Scales of Justice, right? In that picture?"

"That's what I thought, too."

"Look, what do you make of this: 'Now Eve we're here we've won.'? Is he talking about Eve Caldwell?"

"I assume," he said. "Even her name is whatever you called it."

"A palindrome. Damn, you're right."

"Listen, Alex." He gave her a hard stare. "This is more than a word game. I've got three murders here, all potentially connected. If your client is someone named Sarah, or if she's a doctor, she could be in serious danger."

She sat back and pushed the paper away. "Her name isn't Sarah. And she's not a doctor."

"Is she related to Eve?"

"No."

"I need you to tell me-"

"Her name's Courtney Glass."

Courtney, of course. He supposed he didn't blame her for going out on her own to get help. APD sure as shit wasn't helping her any. If it were up to Webb, she'd be under arrest right now. And Cernak was a breath away from charging her in the Alvin homicide. He had the gun and the GSR test, plus the media and the chief and the hot-dog heiress's legal team breathing down his neck and demanding an arrest. Nathan knew it was just a matter of time before the lieutenant bowed to all the pressure.

Unless he or Hodges could come up with a more viable suspect.

"She told me something else you might find interesting." Alex looked at her watch. "I'll pass it along, and then I've got to get going."

Nathan nodded.

"There was some big lawsuit her ex-boyfriend was working on. David Alvin? She found a video clip on the Internet that showed Eve Caldwell and Pembry exiting the courthouse the day the trial wrapped up. She thinks all this is about that trial."

Nathan absorbed every syllable she said. He couldn't believe a woman PI was sitting here cracking this case open for him. With the help of a hairdresser. It was humbling as hell.

She checked her watch again. "I've got to go. I've still got work to do tonight."

"Of course you do."

She stood up and pulled a wallet out of that cavernous purse. "What do I owe you for the beer?"

Nathan shook his head and laughed. "Not a goddamn thing."

CHAPTER 16.

Courtney lay sprawled on Will's bed, eyes closed, breath even, until she heard the soft thud of the bathroom door and the hiss of running water. She got out of bed and quickly pulled on her clothes. She shoved her feet into flip-flops and picked up the duffel bag she'd packed in the wee hours of last night, while Will lay sleeping and spent after yet another round of lovemaking. He'd insisted on setting the alarm for six, insisted that they needed to rush straight to headquarters this morning and put a plan in place to deal with the threat against her.

But she had her own plan.

She crept into the kitchen and lifted the set of keys from the counter. Darting a glance at the bathroom, she worked the Chevy key free from the chain.

Her stomach knotted. If he walked out here right now, she'd never be able to explain herself. She'd never be able to look him in the eye and convince him that she had to do this, that she didn't have a choice.

He thought she did. He thought he could pull a few strings, get her set up with some sort of security detail, and that would solve everything. He also thought he could clear her name.

But Courtney knew differently. This thing was going to get worse, and even Nathan, a veteran on the force with a lot more clout than Will, wouldn't be able to pull enough strings. That lieutenant had her in his sights, and yesterday had illustrated all too vividly that somebody else did, too. She didn't intend to sit around waiting for a man to shield her from danger. Her freedom was at stake. And her safety. And the safety of her sister, and her neighbors, and anyone else who happened to be nearby next time some hired gun came looking.

Her gaze fell on the pen sitting beside the phone, and her heart squeezed. Maybe she should leave a note. Maybe she should explain herself, try to lessen the impact of what she was about to do, because she knew he'd be hurt. He was an ex-soldier and a cop, a man who'd obviously seen more than his share of bad things, but he had feelings, too. And this was a betrayal, no getting around it. They had bonded last night. In between the groping and the moaning, they'd had some quiet, gentle moments of understanding. She'd never had that with anyone, and she felt guilty now for running away. She reached for the pen.

The pipes went silent, and she froze. She glanced at the bathroom door. It remained shut.

She tiptoed across the apartment, silently unlocked the door, and slipped out.

Making someone disappear in the digital age was no easy task, but Alex relished it. She sat at her computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard, while she spoke with Courtney's telephone company.

"Thank you for holding. How can I help you this morning?"

"Hi, this is Courtney Bass. I hate to bother you, but I've got my last bill sitting here, and I notice you guys still have my name wrong. It's 'Bass,' not 'Glass.' I called about this last month."

"I'm sorry about that. Let me pull up your account. Are you calling from home?"