LITMIR.BIZ

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time for a cross-examination right now. Although it continues to escape your notice, we’re a bit busy here.”

      “So the fact that your ex-husband’s been murdered doesn’t mean diddly to you?” He hitched a testy shoulder as a pair of paramedics elbowed past.

      Appearance-wise, McGraw reminded Maya of a shaggy blond Columbo. In terms of attitude, however, the word caveman sprang to mind. Or perhaps more aptly, her cousin Diego, who she swore was a throwback to one of her mother’s nastier Andalusian ancestors.

      “Believe me, Detective, I’d give a great deal to be able to reverse time and bring Adam back, but I can’t do that, and unless you know some secret science, neither can you. What I can do is help the people in the here and now. Once the last patient is treated, I’ll be more than happy to answer any question you want to throw at me. Until then, the machine in the doctor’s lounge has better coffee than the cafeteria. It’s also free.”

      Tipping her lips into a quick smile, she sidestepped his arm and was out of range before he could object.

      “Guess you told him, huh?”

      Maya had her palm on the next treatment-room door when another man’s voice reached her. She turned to meet Stephen Talbot’s cool gray eyes. “I’m kinda busy here, Tal. Questions will have to wait.”

      “What about emotions?”

      “Same answer.” Frustration rose, coupled with something she knew better than to pinpoint. “Don’t push, okay? I might bite, and that’s not how I want to react. Adam’s gone. I’m making myself accept the truth, but I can’t—I won’t—let down someone whose life I might be able to save because of it. Any chance of any cop in Miami grasping that concept tonight?”

      Tal raised his hands. “Message received, Dr. Santino. I’ll wait in the lounge.”

      She tried very hard not to notice how tall he was or how incredibly, well, male, she supposed. How sexy. It felt wrong to be having thoughts like that. It definitely seemed inappropriate.

      “Dr. Santino!”

      With her eyes still on Tal, Maya pushed the door. “I’m here, Jamie. I’ve got a dozen more patients to see, Lieutenant, and that number doesn’t include any new arrivals. You could be waiting for quite some time.”

      He ignored the stream of people rushing past. “Better waiting than lying on one of your tables. Do what you have to, Maya. I’ll handle McGraw.”

      Great, she reflected, pushing through the door. Except that McGraw wasn’t the problem.

      

      THE MAN CALLING HIMSELF Falcon crouched under a palm tree behind a lilac bush and watched time crawl by. He was afraid to leave his hiding place, terrified that Adam Tyler hadn’t blocked the shooter’s view, after all.

      But no, he had to believe he was still a man of mystery in his boss’s eyes. A wanted, hunted man, but still an unknown commodity.

      What would the big man do now? Obvious answer, he’d go for the last person Tyler had spoken to. The doctor who just happened to be his ex-wife. Yeah, that’s what he’d do, all right. And if Tyler had talked, if he’d told her…

      Falcon began to hyperventilate. The woman wasn’t a cop, wasn’t trained. A little pain, and she’d crack, like the fatal egg he’d laid today.

      He had to run, get away. Let Tyler’s ex die. Beautiful she might be, but beauty wouldn’t help her, couldn’t save her.

      Giddy laughter swelled as he regarded the silhouette of the hospital before him. The woman was as dead as her ex-husband.

      She just didn’t know it yet.

      Chapter Two

      “Well, well. If it isn’t Drake’s go-to guy, hanging out in the E.R. at one of Miami’s top three hospitals. Wish I thought you were here because you’d been shot. However, since you appear to be walking upright, looks like I’m out of luck.”

      Tal didn’t bother to turn or even look up as Gene McGraw strode into the lounge. He wouldn’t have made such a blustery entrance if there’d been other people around, but for the moment they were alone.

      McGraw came to stand so close that his chest almost bumped Tal’s arm. “You’re looking a little unkempt, Lieutenant. Is this the appearance du jour of your homicide cronies up in Tampa?”

      Raising a mug to his mouth, Tal turned. “You can’t goad me, Gene. You don’t matter enough at the moment.”

      “Oh, that’s right. You and Tyler were pals, weren’t you? Started out together on the street. Quick series of high-profile busts, and it was on to vice. Then a parting of the ways. Butch went to fraud, Sundance to homicide.”

      One thing McGraw seldom did was stir Tal’s temper. God knew he had one. It simply couldn’t be bothered squaring off with an overinflated jackass.

      “Adam’s dead, Gene. He was shot from behind with a nine-millimeter handgun. You worked with Tyler, so you can be here. But this is a homicide investigation.”

      Now McGraw did knock his thick chest into Tal’s arm, just hard enough to slosh coffee onto the floor. He stuck a finger out for emphasis. “This, Lieutenant, is your captain yodeling his swan song and you vying for his job. Or maybe you want to bypass captain and shoot straight to the next level. Cop on a rocket to the gold stars.” He flicked at the shaggy ends of Tal’s hair. “Gonna have to tidy up some, though. Can’t run a department looking like a back-alley gypsy.”

      Tal held his stare at close range for several seconds. “Still a homicide investigation, McGraw.”

      The detective’s torso bulged. “You listen to me, you—’

      “Oh, cool. A hormonal free-for-all. Can I watch?” Maya breezed into the room and went straight to the refrigerator.

      Tal admired her savvy entrance—to say nothing of her other assets. Like the thick, coffee-colored hair she wore clipped back from the most striking face he’d ever seen. It never failed to amaze him just how jaw-dropping her features were. The woman very simply commanded attention. He should know. She’d commanded his for seven years.

      He knew McGraw missed the glitter in her bluer than blue eyes when the burly detective planted intimidating hands on the counter and leaned toward her. “If you don’t mind, Ms. Santori, I’ll ask the questions. You only have to answer.”

      “It’s Santino, and we did this dance earlier.”

      “Let’s do it again. Be concise, and we’ll be finished before you know it.”

      After a slight hesitation, her lips quirked. Not the best sign in Tal’s opinion. “As you wish, Detective. I’ll give you two minutes.”

      McGraw glanced at Tal, who shrugged and rested his butt on the table across the room. He opened with a gruff, “Did your husband—?”

      “Ex-husband.”

      McGraw’s features tightened. “Did your ex-husband,” he repeated, “mention any names before he died?”

      “Yes.”

      The detective glowered. “Well?”

      “You said concise answers.”

      He pushed up to his full height of six feet four inches. “Whose name did he mention?”

      “Tal’s.”

      “Why was that?”

      “Adam wanted him to have his Shelby Mustang.”

      Tal’s eyes narrowed, but beyond that he didn’t react.

      “That’s it?” McGraw demanded.

      She smiled vaguely, as if at some private joke. “Adam and Tal rebuilt that car. Adam loved it. His brother’s been involved

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