I walked into work with my hair in a high ponytail. I still wore the same white button-down shirt and Dockers, black today, but I’d never gone to work with my hair any way except up in the tight bun that sometimes hurt my head.

Wearing my hair down had occurred to me, but my hair was so long, and it would get in my way as I did my work. Besides…baby steps. A ponytail was the next logical step after a tight bun. No one would notice anyway.

Boy, had I been wrong. Eight people—yes, I counted—mentioned my hairstyle change before ten in the morning. I might as well have gone into work wearing a hula skirt for all the fuss they made.

Ruby, your hair looks great!

Nice change, Detective Lee.

You look amazing with a ponytail!

Could have knocked me over with a feather.

By ten I hadn’t heard from Ryan, so I called the hospital and found out he had been discharged earlier. He’d said he would call me…

No. I was not going to be that woman—that woman who waits on the edge of her seat for her man to call.

I had work to do.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up. “Detective Lee.”

“Ms. Lee?”

The voice was female…and familiar.

My pulse quickened. “Shayna?”

“Yeah. It’s me. I’m sorry about the other day.”

“Shayna, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Did someone threaten you?”

“I’m at a pay phone. I can’t talk long.”

“I understand. Can you answer my question?”

“I got a phone call.” Her voice shook. “A man said I shouldn’t talk to you. To anyone, really, but specifically to you.”

I wouldn’t bother asking her who the man was. She wouldn’t know, and I had my own suspicions. “Has there been any news on Lisa and Juliet?” I asked.

“Nothing. It’s so terrible. Their parents are beside themselves. I’m so worried that they’re…dead.”

I had the same worry, and in a way, if they weren’t dead, their fate might be worse. “I know. I’m so sorry. I’m going to do all I can to find them.”

I hoped I hadn’t just made an empty promise. Juliet and Lisa had been taken from a resort in Jamaica, most likely to be sold into slavery. I had no ties to the Jamaican authorities and no way to get information. I only knew what my intuition and instinct told me.

My father was somehow involved in this.

“You don’t have to call me again if you don’t think it’s safe,” I told Shayna. “I understand.”

“No. I want to communicate with you. I had to block you on my cell phone. I think”—she cleared her throat—“my phone is tapped.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me. What kind of evidence do you have?”

“Just a…feeling.”

Shayna had just lost her two best friends, and her mind could be playing tricks on her. But I knew better than to tell her not to trust her intuition. “If you truly think someone is following you, tapping your phone, you need to call the police. Screw that. Go straight to the FBI. Call me from a pay phone if you need to until we figure out a better way to communicate. I’m here for you. And Shayna…”

“Yeah?”

“Take care of yourself. This isn’t your fault.”

“I know. I mean, yeah. I know.”

I knew exactly what she meant. It wasn’t her fault, but she still felt responsible. She hadn’t been able to talk her friends out of going with their kidnappers, just like I hadn’t been able to talk them out of going.

“Thanks, Ms. Lee.”

“Call me Ruby. I’ll be in touch. Somehow.”

“Okay. Bye.” She ended the call.

Shayna had reluctantly gone along with her two friends in Jamaica and then jumped off her Jet Ski and nearly drowned. She’d been rescued by some other locals who returned her safely to the resort.

My phone buzzed again.

“Detective Lee.”

“Don’t talk to that girl again.”

The same voice from two days ago. My father’s voice. I’d recognize its ooze anywhere. I knew my phone wasn’t tapped, which could mean only one thing. My father—or someone who worked for him—had witnessed Shayna’s call to me.

“Two calls in a few days?” I said. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” My father racked my nerves, but I was determined to play it cool with him. I had to if I was going to make him trip up.

“You heard me, Ruby.”

“Listen, Theo. I don’t hear from you in ages, and then all of a sudden you appear with your girlfriend a few months ago and want to see me. And now you call me. Twice. Seems like you’re getting a little nervous. Now that Simpson and Wade are out of the picture, are you starting to feel a little worried about getting caught yourself?”

“I’m not falling into any of your amateur traps, girl,” he said. “Just watch your step.”

The line went dead.

Nausea crept up my throat. For all my confident words, I was still a wreck when it came to my father. Damned if I would let him know that, though. I initiated a trace on the number he’d called from, knowing it was futile. But…procedure. Then, just in case, I ran a check on my own phone. I was right. It hadn’t been tapped.

My father was good. I’d give him that. I’d have brought him down a long time ago if he hadn’t been. But he was getting nervous. He’d just made an irreversible error.

He’d proved that my hunch was correct.

He was involved in the disappearance of Juliet and Lisa. Why else would he care if I talked to Shayna? The capture of Wade and suicide of Simpson were getting to him. He was in this alone now, and sooner or later, he’d trip up.

Now, more than ever, I was all in.

I made a quick call to the LAPD and filled them in, hoping they’d give Shayna some protection. Then, knowing Shayna wouldn’t, I called the FBI. They promised to look into the possibly illegal phone tapping, but I wasn’t optimistic. This was small potatoes to them.

I longed to call Ryan and tell him I’d talked to Shayna and to my father, to tell him about my theories. But no. I’d leave him alone for now. He was still recovering from a concussion, after all, and even more than that, his entire world had recently been turned upside down. I had to let him deal with everything. Plus, I had a buttload of work to get done. The PD was of course overworked and understaffed, and I was still catching up from my vacation time in Jamaica.

Come tonight, though, if I hadn’t heard from Ryan, I was driving to the ranch.