LITMIR.BIZ

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peered up and down the wallpapered corridor. The stairway was a few feet to the left. Listening, she heard nothing except the tick-tick of the grandfather clock at the end of the hallway.

      Was she alone in the house? She couldn’t take the chance of being seen. Somehow, she knew that much. She tiptoed toward the stairs. The smooth wood felt cold beneath her tender feet. As she crept downstairs, the third step creaked loudly. She paused, then glanced behind her.

      When no one appeared, she continued until she reached the bottom step. Only then did she dare glance around. The living room was to the right; straight ahead was the front door, with a window through which she could see a screened porch and trees beyond the driveway. Her heart hammered in her chest as she tiptoed across the shiny oak floor toward the porch.

      “Well, top o’ the morning, Sara Elizabeth Regis.”

      Startled, she jumped as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out from the living room to block her path. The man in the fog. In daylight, he seemed large enough to fill the doorway. His thumbs were looped in the front pockets of his jeans, and he was naked from the waist up.

      Fear shattered her insides as she stared at him. His face would be considered handsome except for those sapphire eyes that glinted dangerously. He was smiling, but his eyes didn’t know it. His face was deeply tanned, as was all of his upper body. A black shadow of a beard covered his strong, sweeping jaw. When he folded his arms across his wide chest, his biceps bulged.

      “Let me not forget my manners. I’m Liam O’Shea.” He dangled a key in front of her. “Before I give you back your key, you and I are going for a little ride.”

      ARIEL ZIEGLER, known as Ziggy to the family, pulled the Cadillac into the no-parking zone in front of the Sand Dune Motel. Above the door marked Office a vacancy sign flashed on and off. He turned to his brother Vinny, who slouched beside him in the passenger seat. “Stay in the car,” Ziggy muttered. “Leave this to me, see?”

      Vinny swung his head up and glared at him. “An’ why the hell should you go an’ not me?”

      Ziggy glanced at the rearview mirror and smiled widely, checking his teeth. Satisfied, he frowned back at his brother. “’Cause this job takes finesse.”

      “Finesse?” Vinny almost spat the word. “I got finesse!”

      Ziggy ignored him as he tugged at the cuffs of his navy jacket and adjusted his gold cuff links. “Stay here with your trap shut and your eyes open. If you see her, come and warn me.”

      Vinny folded his arms and slumped farther down in the leather seat. “Hurry back. I’m hungry.”

      “You’re always hungry.” Ziggy slid from the driver’s seat and slammed the car door. He glanced again along the row of nearly vacant motel units. Only six cars were in sight on this side of the building. Perfect. Slight chance anyone would be around to notice, just in case the redhead was still here. If she recognized him, he’d have to act fast and that might spell trouble.

      He strolled leisurely up the paved walk toward the glassed entrance. When he saw his reflection in the window, he slicked his hair back with his hand.

      The skinny young punk behind the registration desk looked up when Ziggy sauntered to the counter. He chuckled. Hell, this would be like taking a lollipop from a kid.

      “Hi there,” Ziggy said easily, placing his hand on the counter as he read the punk’s name tag. Harold. Ziggy flashed his three-carat diamond pinkie ring directly in front of the kid. “Say, Harold. I wonder if you can help me.” Before the youth could answer, Ziggy pressed on. “I found an expensive camera. Foreign job. The owner is a tall redhead.” Ziggy gestured, the universal sign language for a well-built broad. “She’s stacked, if you know what I mean. About twenty-five or so. She left the camera and case along the shore early today. I think she’s stayin’ here.”

      “Sorry, sir. That information is strictly confidential.”

      Ziggy clenched both fists on the counter. His forearm muscles bulged, straining the seams of his suit.

      Harold’s eyes bugged and he swallowed nervously. “Uh, what’s the lady’s name?”

      Ziggy swallowed a laugh. “Well, that’s the trouble, Harold. If I knew, I’d call her up myself. But while she was taking pictures of seagulls, I was, ah, watching her.” He smiled for effect. “She has long, long legs and I’ve always been fond of redheads.” He glanced around the alcove where the kid was standing, making sure they were alone. “I was hoping to leave my number, and when she realized that I’d found her camera equipment, well…” He winked, hoping the dumb kid got his drift. “I’m sure the lady would be most appreciative.”

      “I’d be happy to hold the camera for her here at the desk. If you’d like to include a note, I’ll be sure she gets it.”

      Ziggy bit back a coarse oath. “Just tell me her name and room number, kid. I want to handle this myself.”

      Ziggy took another breath as the kid hesitated, deciding whether or not to tell him. Ziggy felt like punching the little creep in the puss. But instead, he pulled a roll of bills from his hip pocket and peeled a C-note from the top. “Here, Harold,” he said, slapping the bill on the counter. “Take your girl out tonight on me.” He winked again, then smiled when the clerk’s eyes widened at the prospect of keeping the hundred-dollar bill.

      Harold glanced around the empty reception area, then looked at the crisp bill. He snatched at the cash and slid it into his back pocket. “Just a minute, sir. I’ll print out a copy of her registration form.”

      The clerk spun around and punched in some keys at the computer. Within a minute, the printer whirred as the report appeared from the top of the machine.

      “Here you are, sir.” The youth darted another glance around the empty lobby before he slid the copy across the counter to him.

      Ziggy read her name and room number, then smiled. He pulled out a white card he had previously prepared. “Don’t you forget to give this number to Sara before she checks out, you hear?” He couldn’t quite keep his face straight as he handed the card to the clerk.

      “Yes, sir.”

      Ziggy’s smile faded and he suddenly glowered. “If she doesn’t call me, I’ll be back, and I’ll collect every dollar from your hide. Understand?”

      Harold’s eyes widened, and damn if his skinny face didn’t turn chalky white. Ziggy chuckled as he turned and made his way toward the glass entrance. “Have a nice day, kid!” he yelled over his shoulder before he pushed open the door.

      Vinny was playing the car radio when Ziggy climbed back into the front seat. “Shut that off,” he ordered, pulling out his cell phone.

      “You’re not the boss,” Vinny muttered, his attention on the numbers that his brother was punching into the phone. Damn, why hadn’t the boss given his phone number to him, too? Vinny scowled, but turned off the radio, more interested in listening to his older brother’s conversation.

      “Yeah. It’s me,” Ziggy said into the receiver. “I found her.”

      Vinny felt a rush of excitement. He was glad his brother had chosen him as his partner. But he couldn’t let Ziggy know how much this job meant to him. Vinny needed a chance to show his big brother how clever he was. And this job was big. So big that it would sweep them into the big time. When this was over, he’d be known as Vincent Ziegler, not Ziggy Ziegler’s little brother.

      Ziggy’s eyes glowed with satisfaction as he nodded. “Sure, boss. You got it.” He looked at Vinny and smiled as he snapped the lid over the phone and slid it in his breast pocket. “We get to whack her.”

      Vinny took in a deep breath to cover his excitement. “How?”

      Ziggy almost beamed. “Boss says he doesn’t want to know.” His smile widened, white teeth shining. “Still got those jack-in-the-boxes in the trunk from your last job?”

      Vinny

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