Sam finished his bland Christmas Eve meal, left a generous tip on the restaurant table and headed upstairs to his hotel room. While Phil had offered him a place to stay, interacting with his boss and his now live-in Gina would be too painful, especially since they were in love.

He dropped onto the bed, shoes and all. Being alone on Christmas Eve sucked. He’d already called his mom earlier today, but she’d slurred her words so much he doubted she’d remember the call. Fortunately, she didn’t chastise him for not coming home for the holidays. Only now he wished he had made the arrangements. At least he’d have been with someone who cared about him.

Though he rarely contacted his brother any more, before dinner he’d called Andy, whose situation in life was a lot worse than his own. At least Sam had a good job and wasn’t in jail on armed robbery charges like his baby brother. The conversation had been short, but he knew Andy appreciated the connection. His little brother was growing up and sounded as though he’d learned his lesson. His parole hearing was coming up in six months and Sam promised he’d be there.

With the lab locked down tight for the next two days, he flipped on the TV. After ten minutes, he turned it off, the contents too sentimental for his tastes. Christmas meant family, the one thing he didn’t have.

He’d tried to forget Jenna all week but he’d failed. Every petite blond he passed, every bouncy kid he saw and every sweet scent he smelled reminded him of her. The way her lips curled up when she smiled, the feel of her fingers as she ran her hands over his body, and how well she understood what he’d been through, all made his mind focus on her. Without the upbeat woman, his life had turned almost meaningless, but her words I’m a cop still rang in his head like the lyrics of a bad song.

The fact she didn’t trust him enough to tell him the truth cut the deepest. He held honesty at the pinnacle of his beliefs.

Or did he? Be honest.

Hadn’t he lied in small ways?

Fine. He hadn’t told the truth on his application for the HOPEFAL job when he omitted his service record, but that was because he wasn’t proud of how he sat at a desk while his friends fought overseas—or how about how every time he held up his badge, he prayed the viewer would think it was police issued and give him the information he sought.

Aw, shit. At least she lied because of her job.

Face it, Bonita, you’re no better than she is. Besides, you’re miserable without her. She claimed she loved him. The lonely half wanted to believe her, but his logical side said she didn’t. There was only one way to find out. Talk to her.

Sam dug out his phone and dialed her number. He jumped off the bed and paced, his heart racing, waiting for her to answer. What would he say? Five rings, eight rings. Her answering machine clicked on. Damn. “Jenna, it’s me. Sam. Can you call me? Ah, bye.”

He tossed the phone on the bed, disgusted he sounded so stern, unfeeling, and unconcerned. Hell. Maybe she didn’t want to see him again after he raced out of her life.

If he went to her house, knowing Jenna, she’d let him in, and then hopefully forgive him. When he’d seen her in the stairwell at the lab, he’d been so shocked he threw up his shields and walked on by. If he’d held out his arms, he bet she would have come to him. So why hadn’t he?

You’re an idiot. Go after her.

Sam grabbed his keys. His mind spun with possibilities. He’d bring her flowers, perhaps buy her a card, and maybe even some chocolate. Yeah, that was it. Jenna loved chocolate. She’d appreciate the thought.

Energized for the first time in a week, he ran down the stairs. The elevators took too long.

Thank goodness Wal-Mart was open for the last minute shoppers. Armed with his forgiveness goodies, Sam headed to her house. The drive was the longest fifteen minutes in his life. He couldn’t wait to hold her, kiss her, and tell her how much he missed her.

The moment he spotted the police issue car in the driveway, he barked out a laugh and pulled in behind her. After popping a piece of gum in his mouth to freshen his breath, he gathered the dozen roses, sappy card, and box of chocolates.

He knocked, and then rang the bell, but Jenna didn’t answer. Shifting his weight, he knocked again, and then stepped in front of the kitchen window to see if she might be asleep on the living room sofa. Lights out, the place looked deserted. He wrapped on the window. “Jenna, it’s me. I need to speak with you.”

A cold wind sneaked in through his sweater, but he was more worried about the chilly reception he might get than the possibility of catching a cold.

He gave the door one last try. “Jenna, I know you’re home.” Frustration bit him until concern edged in.

Where could she be? He walked around back of the house and peeked in her bedroom window. The bed was unmade, and she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was in the shower. That thought lightened his step.

No wonder she couldn’t hear him knocking. Given he’d never returned her house key, he let himself in.

“Jenna?” A sharp perfume bit his nostrils, and his skin pricked at the unfamiliar scent.

He placed the flowers in a vase and propped the card and candy in front. Surprised he didn’t hear the water running, he strode to the bathroom. The open was door and the dark interior confused him. She really wasn’t home.

Oh, crap. Could she be out on a date? On Christmas Eve? He squashed the jealousy that raced to his gut.

He snapped his fingers. He bet she was at the hospital visiting her dad. Given the University Community Hospital was half hour away, how did she get there? Had a friend driven her, or one of her cop buddies? And why not take the armored car?

He looked up the number for the hospital, dialed, and asked to be connected with her Dad.

“She’s not here,” Mr. Holliday said. “Hasn’t been by in two, three days. Tomorrow’s Christmas though. Jenna loves the holidays. There’s no way she won’t be here to visit. I wouldn’t worry about her. She’s probably off pouting somewhere. I’ll tell her to call you when I see her.”

“Thanks.”

Sam disconnected. Jenna could be with her dad, refusing to speak with him, but he doubted it. He looked around her house for clues as to where she might have gone. Two glasses sat on the kitchen table, one with red lipstick rimming the edge, which did not belong to Jenna. He wrapped the glass in a cloth to protect the evidence. If nothing else, he could run the fingerprints and learn who she’d last been with, assuming the prints were on record.

Sam stood at the table, his mind working overtime. Something wasn’t right. The smell, the lipstick, her car. Before he went back to the hotel, he called Tampa Police and asked to speak with Marlon, the man who’d saved Jenna.

“I’m afraid he didn’t report into work today,” the desk officer replied.

The hairs at the nape of his neck stood up. “What about,” he couldn’t remember the guy’s name who was working on the cemetery case.

“Would you like to speak with her captain? I can patch you through to him.”

Before he could answer, the captain answered. “Dr. Bonita. I was about to call you. I received a call from Jenna a little while ago about finding a skull at one of our detective’s houses. When we arrived, Jenna was gone.”

“She just left?”

“Probably not willingly.” His heart nearly stopped. “We found a woman, Kathy Bello, passed out in the front seat of her car. She’d been drugged.”

He grabbed onto the kitchen counter. “Did she know where Jenna went?”

“She doesn’t remember exactly, but they’d gone to Giombetti’s house to look at a skull she’d found while in his house.”

“Why was she in a detective’s house?” This was sounding too crazy.

“She’s Marlon’s sister. The man who took Jenna captive, the one who Marlon shot, was their younger brother, Enzio.”

Shit. Marlon wasn’t at the precinct. “Kathy Bello believes Marlon has Jenna?”

“That’s our first guess, but I find it hard to believe. Marlon’s been with the force for quite some time.”

“What are you going to do?” Unease took hold of him and his throat tightened, squeezing the air from his lungs. “I put an APB on Marlon’s car, just in case.”

That didn’t sound encouraging. “Call me if you find out anything.”

Jenna cracked open an eye and her stomach roiled. Her mouth was dry, and her skull was exploding from a wicked migraine. Bile raced up her throat. Please don’t throw up. She couldn’t sleep in her own vomit. How had this happened? Again? The man who’d taken her the first time was dead.

Oh shit. Kathy’s confession about Marlon sprang back to life. It had to be him, but she couldn’t reconcile the man who had a crush on her with the man who’d drugged her.

There had to be some way to get out of here. She forced her mind off the pounding and onto her surroundings. Stars shone through the window directly above her and the air smelled damp and tangy.

She tried to sit up, but a series of ropes held her down. Crap. She leaned over the edge of the lumpy mattress and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The shape of an anchor appeared at the end of the rope. Why an anchor? Was she on a ship? Water slapped against the side of a boat. Damn it. That’s why she was so sick. She hated being on the ocean. She needed Dramamine.

She went over the series of events that led to her capture. She remembered someone grabbing her. Kathy had been in the car. Had he taken her too? His own sister?

A giant swell nearly tossed her off the bed. Had she not been tied down, she might have dropped to the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of Sam. The racket inside her head lessened. He’d been gone a lifetime it seemed. Would he call to wish her a Merry Christmas and leave a message? Would her father call out the dogs when she didn’t stop by to see him tomorrow? For all she knew, it was Christmas already. Jenna lifted her wrist an inch, pressed the light button against the rope and read the time. Not yet.

Wait. TPD was on its way to Marlon’s house. They’d be suspicious when they arrived and she wasn’t there, but would they think to look on a boat? Crap.

She was thirsty, hungry, and royally pissed. Jenna debated whether she should call out to Marlon for food and chance getting stuck with another needle or keep quiet. She’d either starve to death or die from an overdose. And she really needed to pee. Not to mention getting out of this stale room before her lungs rotted from the mildew.

Marlon might agree to her few small demands. It wasn’t like she’d jump overboard if she were allowed on deck. The water temperature alone would send her core plummeting. She’d be dead in no time.

Her only consolation was that if Marlon had wanted her dead, she’d be fish food right now. No. The bastard had some diabolical plan up his sleeve.

Jenna swallowed to wet her mouth. “Mar-lon?”

Laughter trickled into her cabin from under the door. A woman’s voice—and it seemed as if they were having a good time. His partner, Andrea, perhaps? Or Kathy? Were those two in cahoots? Jenna didn’t buy it. Kathy wouldn’t work with the man who killed her daughter.

The door opened and light from the main cabin crawled in. A man bent down and stuck his head in. “What do you want?” He didn’t sound like anyone she knew.

Jenna had no idea the identity of Mr. Friendly. “Could I have some water? I also have to take a piss real bad.” Cop terms. Man terms. Something he might understand.

“Just a sec.” He turned around. “Hey, the princess wants you.”

“If you don’t stop pacing, I’ll never find out where she is.” Carla shook her head as she shot her gaze upward.

Sam stood still and balled his fists at his side. “Every minute that goes by could spell Jenna’s death.”

“Like I don’t know that? I didn’t come here to spend Christmas Eve with you, you know. I am trying to locate her.”

Sam shoved a hand through his hair. “Sorry.” He’d already spent too much time driving over to Marlon Giombetti’s house in Tampa. The police appeared to be working hard at locating Jenna, but they’d only come up with one dead end after another. Carla was Sam’s last hope.

Her fingers sped across the keyboard. “Here’s something.”

“What?” Sam leaned over her back.

“Marlon has property near Clearwater Beach.”

“Do you think he’d be dumb enough to take Jenna to his own house?”

“There’s only one way to find out.” She hit print. The map spit out a moment later. “Go.”

With map in hand, Sam raced to Clearwater in under an hour. Marlon’s place wasn’t hard to find, but no lights were on and Jenna wasn’t anywhere nearby. Defeated, he turned around and headed back to Tampa. Before he reached the Howard Franklin bridge, his cell rang. It was Carla. “You find something?”

“Yes. I decided to look into the lives of all the periphery people. Deidra, Marlon, Kathy Bello, Enzio—”

His fingers turned white from holding the phone so tightly. “Just tell me.”

“Did you know that Deidra’s sister, Shelby, was a practicing surgeon until about five years ago?”

Sam let the information sink in. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

“Remember I told you Eric and I had this little disagreement about Creighton Jackson and Rodrico Evans, the man the cops found at Ballast Point? About whether the same person had killed them?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m calling. You said the two men had the same cut marks.”

“Not exactly the same, but close. I contended two different people had cut them up. Rodrico’s murderer wasn’t as precise as Creighton’s. Eric claimed maybe the guy was rushed since he left before he cut off the man’s second hand.” The car behind him honked, before speeding around him. Sam checked his speedometer and then accelerated.

“Whatever. I think Marlon might have killed his stepfather, but he had Shelby hack him up.”

“You think she’s involved because Marlon’s stepfather dated Shelby’s sister? Jenna told me Deidra’s sister just had a baby. I’m not buying it.”

“Okay, how about this?” Carla said. “Enzio Giombetti, the brother, served in Iraq as, get this, a medic. Maybe Shelby killed Creighton, and Enzio killed Rodrico.”

Sam rolled down the window to let in the cool air to help him think better. “That’s a reach, but if it’s true, Phil might give you a metal. How does that help me find Jenna though?”

“Just hold your horses. I hacked into Shelby’s records, as well as a few other people’s accounts. Shelby withdrew fifty thousand dollars from her account two days ago.”

Sam whistled. “Any idea what for?” Carla had a knack for learning all sorts of goodies from neighbors.

“I’m thinking it has to be get-away money.”

“Let me get this straight. You think new mother Shelby is involved with Marlon and helped him cut up his stepdad, and that she’s willing to leave without the kids? Marlon Giombetti might have been a killer, but children need their mother.”

“It all fits. I bet she plans on coming back after the investigation settles down and picking them up.”

“In the meantime, they’ll spend Christmas alone if she did run off. And what about Shelby’s husband? Is he involved too?”

“I’m not sure, but that’s not why I’m calling.”

He exited the bridge on the Tampa side. “Time is running out. Tell me.”

“I checked her tax records or rather my FBI friend did. Shelby had a large sales tax deduction last year. Guess what it was for.”

“Carla!” He gnashed his teeth together.