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continue the course she was on. She must have uncovered something that the cops and the Feds didn’t want exposed. This story about the mob could be bigger than even she had expected.

      Kicking off her heels, Violet settled into her desk chair and booted up her computer. She pulled up her e-mail and started a new message.

      Her cursor followed each keystroke as she typed in Gwyn’s address and Need more info as the subject line. In the message box, she typed, Tell me everything you know about Clay West.

      “Thank you, Clay,” she mumbled. “If it hadn’t been for you, I might have given up on this story about women killed by the mob.”

      But nothing, not even a handsome cop, would stop her now.

      Clay hustled down the dark street to where he’d parked his car. Sliding behind the wheel, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Chicago.

      FBI Special Agent-in-Charge Jackson McGraw answered on the second ring.

      “Someone broke into the reporter’s home. I chased the guy a couple blocks but lost him.”

      “One of Martino’s guys?”

      “The cops suspect locals. They’ve had a number of recent petty crimes in the area.” Clay told Jackson about following the perpetrator, and the note Clay found when he left Violet’s house later that night. “Doubtful the mob would have left a warning message.

      But they may have alerted someone local to keep her under watch. If the guy’s being strong-armed to do the mob’s bidding, he may have thought scaring Violet off would work to his advantage.”

      “Which is exactly what we’re trying to do, as well.”

      “I drove home the point about her security issues. In fact, I conducted a little training exercise within the home as you requested.”

      Jackson chuckled. “Let me guess. Violet wasn’t impressed.”

      “Irritated would be a better word to use.”

      “You pushed hard, eh?”

      “Which seems to be my modus operandi.” Clay thought of the hot water he’d landed in recently. “I’m not convinced she’s willing to back off.”

      “Ms. Kramer has a history of charging headlong into situations without weighing the consequences. At least that’s what I picked up from a friend on the Chicago Gazette.”

      “I got the same story before I left town. Someone who works with the internship program filled me in. The woman knows no fear.”

      Clay thought of Violet standing in her living room. His presence had startled her, yet she’d recovered faster than most. Later, after the danger had passed and the cop had left, she’d pulled an extra layer of attitude around her slender shoulders. When that hadn’t worked, she’d let her temper get the best of her. Through it all, she’d put up a tough defense.

      “I’ve got a motel room for the night located near the highway coming into town. I’ll spend tonight watching her house in case the guy decides to come back.”

      Clay glanced at the modest but comfortable homes lining the street. “Tomorrow, I’ll look for a place closer in. If I stay a few days, I can keep an eye on her and find out what she knows. Remember the old adage about never underestimate the enemy?”

      “From the sound of your voice, I take it the woman got under your skin.”

      Clay straightened and squared his shoulders. “Absolutely not.”

      “Just make sure she understands the mob plays for keeps.”

      “Anything new on your end?” Clay asked.

      “We’ve had additional confirmation the two women’s deaths were tied with the Martino family. No news about Eloise. If we can’t trace her, I’m praying the mob can’t, either.”

      “I’d feel better if you knew she was safe,” Clay said.

      “Micah’s helping us.”

      “Convenient to have a brother who’s a Deputy U.S. Marshal in Montana.”

      Jackson chuckled again. “Unless sibling rivalry gets in the way.”

      Clay wouldn’t know. No siblings, no parents, no wife or ex-wife, for that matter. Family reunions were a one-man show.

      “Remember the baby Eloise gave up for adoption?” the agent asked.

      “Of course, I remember Kristin. You arranged for her to be adopted by a family named Perry. He was a lawyer from Billings.”

      Jackson was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was cold. “How do you know that information?”

      Clay let out a lungful of air. “Look, Jackson. Eloise was important to me. Like family. I wanted to ensure the child’s life wouldn’t be tainted by the mob. You did everything by the book.”

      “Hopefully the mob wasn’t as determined as you were to track her down.”

      “Hasn’t Kristin been safe all these years?”

      “Yeah, you’re right. But her adoptive parents died recently, and she’s trying to find her birth mother. Kristin paid Micah a visit not long ago.”

      Clay thought of Violet. “So another woman’s sticking her nose where she shouldn’t?”

      “Exactly. Micah told Kristin to go home and let the Marshals find Eloise.”

      “I hope Kristin’s not as headstrong as our friend the reporter.”

      “There’s another complication. The Billings newspaper ran an article on Mr. and Mrs. Perry, including a color photo of the family. Kristin looks like her mom, green eyes and all.”

      “You think the Martino family might see the article?”

      “Anything’s possible.”

      “What’s your brother say?”

      “Micah’s convinced the Marshals can find Eloise. Although his main interest recently has been another woman. Seems my dear brother’s fallen in love. You heard about Ruby Summers Maxwell?”

      “The woman in Witness Protection murdered last month?”

      “That’s right. Micah met her twin sister, Jade, while he was investigating the crime. One thing led to another. Now they’re talking marriage.”

      “Which should be good news. How come I hear frustration in your voice, Jackson?”

      When the FBI agent failed to respond, Clay filled in the blanks. “Has to do with Eloise, doesn’t it?”

      Jackson inhaled sharply. “She was long ago, Clay. A man has to move on.”

      “But you haven’t.”

      “I still think about her.”

      “Doubtful I could have survived the Southside Foster Home without Eloise. You would have thought I was her long-lost kid brother the way she showed me the ropes and made me feel included.”

      Not that Eloise hadn’t made her own mistakes. She’d given her heart to the wrong guy, gotten pregnant and ended up witnessing Salvatore Martino shoot two men in cold blood. One of the victims had been the father of her child. Jackson had been the rookie agent assigned to her case.

      Although he rarely talked about his feelings, Jackson had fallen in love with Eloise. His job demanded he place her in the Witness Protection Program, which meant he’d never see her again.

      “Keep me updated on your progress with Ms. Kramer,” Jackson said. “And watch your back. After what happened to Cameron Trimble, I’m sure you’re not on the Martino family’s list of favorite people. I wouldn’t want a supposed get-away trip to Missoula, Montana, to cost Chicago P.D. one of their finest officers.”

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