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calling card, presumably,” Jim said.

      Listening in horror, Emma felt her stomach begin to churn again. Even if Jim was an agent and had probably told worse tales, she couldn’t believe his nonchalant delivery.

      But she’d seen Anthony with her own two eyes. She knew the outcome, so there was no reason her stomach should be performing acrobatics.

      “Problem,” Jim said. “It was a new moon, and Anthony’s yard light was out. Probably not a coincidence. At any rate, the only physical description he can give us is that Dop is fast, taller than himself, and wore black clothes and a ski mask. Finding someone taller than six-two does narrow the field, but that’s all we’ve got for a physical description.”

      Still in gruesome narrative mode, Jim explained that Anthony had been found two hours later by his housekeeper. The X itself hadn’t been deep enough to damage bone or muscle, and the EMTs didn’t find another knife wound. But time had been Anthony’s enemy. The fight had cost him copious amounts of blood and his prognosis at the scene had been “grave.”

      Emma’s stomach seized. Thank God she’d skipped breakfast. Her entire mind was flooded with a vision of Anthony lying helpless on the ground, bleeding and unconscious. He might have been ambitious and unethical, but no one deserved that.

      This couldn’t be happening.

      And then Jim said, “The worst part was, those people who’d been at that staff party were on duty when Anthony was brought in. So everyone was shook up and Sophia was a wreck. Luckily, Geoff kept his head and was calm enough to resuscitate him.”

      Emma covered her mouth, feeling bile rise into her throat.

      “Emma?” Jim asked sharply. “Are you all right?”

      “Oh, no.” Brady panicked, dragging her off the couch and explaining, “Weak stomach.”

      Emma stumbled along after him, limp as a rag doll. Her mind seemed to have exited stage left with the word resuscitate.

      Brady herded her into the hall bathroom, propped her against a cool tile wall and asked, “Are you gonna throw up?”

      Unsure of the answer, Emma bobbed her head vaguely and closed her eyes to avoid his inspection. The last thing she needed right now was Brady asking why she was so completely shattered.

      But that’s exactly what she was. Horrified. And eaten alive by guilt and shame.

      Her stomach lurched again at the thought that the only thing separating her from Dop was a push over the edge of sanity. They both hated Anthony Bracco with a passion, but she wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

      Anthony was just a man. A bad man, but she should have listened to her therapist. It was time to let go. If she didn’t, ancient history would taint the rest of her life and she’d never get rid of her temper.

      “Deep breaths,” Brady ordered. “As soon as they’re gone I’ll get you the biggest cheesecake I can find… Oh. Sorry. We’ll wait until your stomach calms down. But for now, sit down, and for once in your life, let someone else take the wheel.”

      He stopped to wet a washcloth and press it to her forehead. They’d spent so much of the last three months arguing over the business that Emma almost started bawling at the simple act of kindness.

      “I’m gonna go speak with what’s-his-name out there for a few minutes,” Brady said soothingly. “I’ll give you time to pull yourself together, but don’t leave this room until I come back.”

      Emma nodded, hoping he was aware that Anthony was in the building. She could read between the lines. Brady looked calm, his square face stoic and watchful, but if he came across Anthony, his perpetual bad mood might turn ugly.

      Chapter 3

      The boardroom had fallen quiet. Only the sound of Layne’s pen scratching on a legal pad could be heard while Anthony stoically picked at a brass rivet on his chair arm. He didn’t know what came next, but the day had to take an upward turn soon.

      But not quite yet. The door opened for Jim and Hornsby, followed by Brady Wilson, who hadn’t changed one bit. He still had that snooty demeanor. Anthony had no idea why Emma put up with the guy.

      “Where’s Emma?” Layne asked after chilly introductions.

      “Upstairs,” Brady answered. “I hope you’re proud of yourself, Bracco.”

      “Mr. Wilson,” Jim cautioned, “Your personal grievances with Anthony can wait. Right now we have business to discuss.”

      Brady sat down at the head of the table, the snootiness evaporating before their eyes as he said to Jim, “Look. Let me be straight with you. There’s a lot going on around here that you don’t understand, and I’m not at liberty to share. But I have to ask that you keep Emma out of this. She’s got enough on her plate.”

      “What do you mean?” Jim asked.

      Brady looked down at the table. “Just understand that if she’s not real cooperative, it’s not her fault.”

      “So how do you suggest we make things easier?” Jim asked.

      Turning his eyes on Anthony, Brady said, “Get him out of here, for one thing.”

      “I’m sorry but we can’t do that,” Walter said. “I appreciate the warning but you need to understand what we’re up against. We’re trying to install a reliable security system at Anthony’s house, and we’ve had to tear out and upgrade all the electrical wiring to support it. The same drill you went through when you upgraded the store’s system.”

      Brady grimaced.

      “Yeah. It hasn’t been a small or easy task. So until that’s finished we simply don’t have the men available to protect two people at separate sites.”

      But Brady started shaking his head. “We’ve got security here at the store. Can’t we use them?”

      “No,” Jim said, “They have their own job to do.”

      Layne said, “Anthony, why don’t you step outside for a while? See what you can do to smooth things over?”

      He got up while Brady protested, “It’s not that simple. He can’t just—”

      “Give him a chance,” Layne said. “Trust me, Brady, none of us wish to upset Emma. But this is the hand we’ve been dealt, so we’ve all got jobs to do, including you. You’re in charge of protecting Emma’s businesses during this investigation. The Bureau’s job is to protect her from the suspect. But none of us can protect Emma and Anthony from each other. That’s something they have to work out for themselves.”

      Brady sucked his teeth, took a deep breath, then shot Anthony a glance full of defeat and frustration. “She’s in the guest bath upstairs.”

      Anthony left and stood in the hall, thinking about what Brady had just done. Pretty shocking, considering what Emma might do if she found out what Brady had told them.

      What did he mean by “a lot going on around here that you don’t understand”? Was it business or personal? Charles had told him Emma was ready to rip the roof of the insurance office to get at the stones they’d helped her acquire. But that would hardly be enough to send someone like Emma over the edge.

      Hoping Brady was exaggerating, Anthony headed toward the office steps, and on his way upstairs he gave himself a pep talk. He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then. Not everything was win or lose. There were degrees now, and he had rules.

      Rule number one: Keep life simple. That was laughable under the circumstances. Dop aside, Emma was as complicated as it got. Keeping her here wouldn’t be easy because he was already fighting the urge to run rather than tangle with her again.

      The woman was flat-out vicious. He hadn’t known how vicious until that night they were supposed to sign the contracts

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