She couldn’t face him.

Jazz’s hands trembled as she dried her body. Her entire soul was brittle, shaken. Empty.

She dropped her dirty clothes into the sink and filled it with soapy water. She couldn’t put them back on until they were clean. Terrycloth hospitality robes hung on the back of the door, and she pulled one on, grateful for the warmth and the fact that it covered her nearly head to toe.

Emotion welled again and she fought back tears. She had to stop this. She owed Luke an explanation, but she dreaded it. She’d never meant for him to know everything. Never wanted anyone to know.

She stared at the closed door, wishing she could scrub away the past and never face the world. But even in this room, there were too many memories. With a resigned sigh, she grabbed the brass handle.

Wearing an identical robe, his hair still wet from his unplanned shower, Luke sat in one of the overstuffed chairs across the room. Waiting. He said nothing, just stared with tormented eyes.

She took the chair facing him, arranging the terrycloth precisely so no bare skin showed. “I haven’t had a flashback in years.”

“Jasmine, I’m sorry.”

She raised a hand to stop him, to ward off the crushing panic that threatened to steal her breath again. “It wasn’t your fault. Too many things have happened. And I haven’t slept.”

Shame burned hot within her and she looked away. “I never wanted you to know.”

“Did you believe I’d think less of you? Blame you for something that wasn’t your fault?”

“I’m not…I pretended I wasn’t that person anymore. That…victim. That helpless creature that others could control.”

“And you’re not.”

“But I feel like her again, and I hate it.” She heard her voice helplessly crack. “I hate being out of control.”

He started to get up.

“Don’t.” If he touched her, she’d break. “I…can’t do this if you’re close to me.”

He stopped, eyeing her warily, then settled down. “What can’t you do?”

“Tell you the rest of the truth,” she whispered. “About the man I killed.”

Luke sank deeper into his chair. “Talk to me.”

Jazz’s nails bit into her palms. She had to get through this, but she wanted to stop. To hide from the way he would look at her soon. Like she was white trash. No, far worse than that. “Growing up, we never stayed in one place long. Usually we were run out of town or escaped in the night because we couldn’t make the rent.” Struggling against the flashback, Jazz forced herself to continue. “When I was ten, my mother and I lived in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico, on the wrong side of the tracks. Literally. Men who came to our house wanted to get laid or have a punching bag who wouldn’t report them to the police if they got a little rough. Mama always promised that someday we’d make it big. We’d leave town, change our names, and start over. I wanted to believe it. I wanted to believe every word.”

“Jasmine…”

Jazz tried to keep the tears from falling, but they simply flowed. She could do nothing. If she released her hold on her robe to wipe them away, she’d shatter into a thousand pieces. “One night, a man named Gary Matthews showed up. Drunk, horny. Itching for some action.”

In her mind the bed and breakfast morphed into the grimy shack she and her mother lived in, the moldy scraps in the refrigerator, the mixture of fear and anticipation when a client would visit them. Would they bring food? Or maybe a treat to keep her quiet? Would they come after her when Mama was too drunk to notice? Or care.

“Mama locked me in the closet, like she usually did when her men came over. This time, she hadn’t been drinking, but Matthews had. This time, he wanted me. She said, ‘No.’”

Luke’s face went white, and the muscle in his jaw throbbed, but he said nothing. Thank God.

“Matthews was drunk and angry. They were shouting, and I was so scared.” Even now, her body shook. The images in her head were sickeningly real. “I was huddled in the closet with a baseball bat gripped in my fists. He unlocked the door and yanked it open. I just froze. My mother screamed and threw herself at him. He punched her. I saw her go down. He hit her, again and again and again, but I did nothing.”

Luke knelt by her chair and tried to pull her against him. “You were a child.”

She shoved him back. “It was my job to stop him. That’s why my mother gave me the bat. If anyone started hurting Mama, I was supposed to scare them away. Protect her. I pushed my way out of the closet, but there was so much blood. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t even think.”

“Jasmine, you were ten. He was a grown man. What could you have done?”

“I should’ve helped her,” she said in a broken whisper. “I should’ve hit him then. Instead he grabbed the bat from me and whipped it across the room. I’ll never forget the sound Mama made when it hit her. She cried out, clutching the side of her head as she fell. Then he dragged me to the kitchen and…he…He’d hit me before, but this time…there was no one to stop him.”

Silence filled the room for a long time.

“He came back at dawn,” she finally whispered. “I was bleeding and broken. Mama had died in my arms. I didn’t know what to do.”

“What happened when he returned?”

“He waved the six-pack around, then kicked Mama and yelled at her because she wouldn’t get up and share it with him. He was so drunk he didn’t know she was dead. I’d been hiding, but when he kicked her, I lost it. I started screaming that he’d killed her. I pummeled him with my fists. He backhanded me, called me a liar, and then forced me down to the blood-spattered floor. He’d nearly choked me to death when my right hand hit something hard and round. I latched onto it. That time, I swung the bat.

“I wanted him dead.” She sagged into the chair, drained. “I killed him.”

She couldn’t look at Luke. Couldn’t risk it. Then he was there. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her, stroking her back, murmuring into her ear.

She couldn’t process his words, all she could do was let his warmth seep into her frozen soul. She sighed against him, and he lifted her into his arms and took her to the bed. Carefully, as if she were fragile as glass, he laid her down and settled in beside her, nestled in the safety of his embrace. His heat and comfort lulled her into oblivion, sleep overtaking her, pushing aside reality.

She knew she must be dreaming when she heard him whisper, “Ah, love, I’ll protect you. I’ll never let you go.”

People in her life didn’t protect her. And they never, ever stayed.

The computer screen taunted Luke. He’d left Jasmine to much-needed sleep, determined to fight this attack on her past. After hours at the keyboard, his back muscles had cramped up, and he’d gotten nowhere. The phone on the desk vibrated, and he looked at the screen. Blocked. Not again.

He stepped into the bathroom, trying not to think about the pain he’d witnessed from Jasmine. He’d never forget. The image of her fear had engraved itself on his mind.

“Montgomery,” he said. If he heard that mechanical voice…

“It’s Grace.”

“Are you okay? Your phone—”

“I had to ditch it. I don’t have much time. It’s chaos here. Someone screwed up.”

“Brian Tower?”

“He wasn’t supposed to die. The female sniper is. They have to pin the corruption on her. Dead, she can’t defend herself. They don’t know who killed Tower. I’ve never seen them so furious.”

“Grace, get out of there.”

“I found another way. I won’t contact you again, Luke, but I had to warn you before I leave. Your friend is in real danger. The family’s got a back-up plan. The last of their plants in the sheriff’s office is taking the lead. I don’t know who, but he thinks he can salvage the operation. If they kill your sniper, they’ll wrap the entire mess up in a nice neat bow. Blame her for Tower’s death, and the sheriff’s office will reveal she was taking bribes. Problem solved. No more leak.”

“Is Sheriff Tower involved?”

“According to my source, his son played him. They’d planned to make him the fall guy before the sniper fell into their laps. No other name, no story—except a sniper gone bad.”

Luke shoved his hand through his hair. She was right. Without any other evidence, Jasmine was in the crosshairs, and he’d hit a dead end, unless…“Did you hear any mention of Tower’s accomplice? A woman? She threatened my daughter. She might have information.”

“No. I’m sorry. I have to go, Luke. Be safe.”

“Grace, give me your numb—”

The phone went silent.

Luke’s frustration settled into an ache just above his right eyebrow. He was no closer to identifying the woman, and Jasmine was still being set up to take the fall. He wouldn’t rest until he found the traitor in the sheriff’s office. To hell with the story. For Jasmine. He needed to come up with a new strategy.

He cracked the bathroom door, and his attention fell on her. During a fitful sleep, the covers had twisted around her. She’d cried out more often than Luke could stand.

Suddenly she sat bolt upright in bed, her eyes wide with panic. Her gaze swept the room and settled on Luke. The fear drained out of her. He hated to be the one to tell her things had just gotten a whole lot worse. He laid his phone on the nightstand and crouched next to the bed.

“You okay?”

She nodded, but they both knew she lied.

She pushed her hair out of her face. “Did you find anything?”

He caught her up to speed.

“So I’m an easy target and we have an unknown stalker out there we can’t identify.”

“I checked out Gary Matthews. His wife, Kathy, and their daughter moved away after he died. I haven’t found them yet. They aren’t in New Mexico, but I’ve got a search running. Hopefully something will pop.”

Jasmine sagged against the headboard. “We’re nowhere.”

“I checked out the Pinto, but there’s nothing so far on that either,” he went on, “other than to determine that the section that wasn’t covered with mud seems to match Colorado’s plates best.”

He went to the computer and moved the mouse so it reactivated. The logo for the Colorado Department of Motor Vehicles flashed on the screen. “According to the DMV, there are thousands of red Pintos in this state. I ran Tower, but nothing hit. I’ll need to look at the owners name by name and see if I recognize anyone.”

“You hacked into the DMV?” she said, looking over his shoulder.

“Searched for police records involving Tower and a red Pinto too.” He brought up another screen.

“So do I arrest you now or…” She blanched. “Guess I can’t do that, huh? I’m not really a deputy anymore.” She laughed, a bitter, anguished sound. “Lucky for you, Montgomery. You get away scot-free.”

“There are too many lives at stake to follow the rules.”

The tension between them grew, and Luke held his breath. Would she want him to keep searching or follow the letter of the law?

“Since you’re already in,” she whispered, “what did you find?”

Turning back to the computer, Luke clicked a few buttons, and a composite drawing materialized on the screen. It was the redheaded woman. The SWAT team had filled in more details, and the sketch artist had captured a chilling likeness that stirred Jazz’s recollections.

“I can’t place her.” Jazz’s voice trailed off. A shiver rippled through her. “But there’s something about her eyes…”

Silence filtered through the room, broken only by the soft whirr of the computer. Seconds, then minutes ticked by.

“Why can’t I remember?”

The words held such despair that he turned in his seat and stood up. “You will.”

He longed to touch her, to hold her, to comfort her. Would she let him? Tentatively he reached out and laced her fingertips through his. With a feather-light hold, he eased his hands up her arms to her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.

Her head fell against his chest, and a shudder ran through her as she nestled against him. Luke let his temple rest against her hair. “We’ll figure it out, Jasmine. I promise you that.”

Each movement slow with caution, Luke lowered his lips to her cheek and kissed her. When she tilted her head to meet his mouth, Luke’s entire body sang with relief, and he let himself sink into the kiss. Her tongue danced with his, and after a moment his body responded to the sensual call of hers. He groaned and lifted his head, holding back his desire.

She couldn’t want him now. Not after what she’d been through today.

He stepped back, his breathing ragged. “No more, honey. You’re too…”

Pain flashed across her face. “It’s because of what I told you, isn’t it?”

For a moment he couldn’t understand what she was saying, but then he grabbed her to him. “God, no. Never think that anything that happened to you changes the way I feel. But your flashback, everything that’s happened. I can understand if you just want to rest. We don’t have to make love. I’ll hold you, nothing more.”

She shook her head, holding his face in her hands. “Don’t treat me like I’m damaged goods. Nothing’s changed except that now you know everything. I want you. With no more secrets.”

She kissed him. Her lips explored his jaw and worked their way down his throat, giving to him in such a way he was in awe of her. After everything, she wanted him to love her.

“I want you,” she whispered. “Now. Don’t make me wait.”

He couldn’t deny her. “Then take me, Jasmine. But this time, you have power.” He wanted to give her the control, to make sure their lovemaking was nothing like the past.

“Your touch doesn’t call the demons back, Luke. Your touch drives them away. Make love to me.” She placed her hands on the sides of his face. A laugh of exultation escaped him, and his dark gaze lit with a joy she’d never seen.

Luke fell onto the rumpled bed, drawing Jasmine into his arms. She tumbled on top of him, her touch and mouth reminding him of just why he would never get her out of his system. He lay there and let her revel in his body. She explored every inch, letting her lips explore his neck, the pulse at his throat. The softness of her mouth made him tremble. Her hair tickled his bare skin as she moved across his chest.

She didn’t shy away from the scar on his shoulder, instead bathing him with her mouth and tongue until he was shuddering. She drove him crazy with each caress.

He reached for her and she smiled, a mischievous grin that made his heart thud in anticipation.

“Let me,” she said.

He forced himself to lie still beneath her. As if she were indulging in the most decadent delicacy, she worked her way down his body, to his abdomen, to his hips, and finally her mouth nestled against his rock-hard desire. He arched toward her touch. “You’re a witch,” he gasped as her lips teased him unmercifully.

Then she moved away, her hair fluttering across his hypersensitive skin. He let out a sharp moan, but she gave him a flirty grin and worked her way to his thighs, massaging the muscles.

He’d never have believed his knees were erogenous zones, but every caresses, every soft breath made his body surge, seeking her touch.

“I can’t wait,” he panted.

Finally she rose above him, her hair falling in a curtain around her face and settled just above his aching body, tempting, promising, seducing.

He wanted her. She had to take him.

“Jasmine, please.”

Her eyes closed in satisfaction when she lowered herself on him, her body surrounding him, clutching him.

They were one.

He groaned and pulled her down, burying his face in her shoulder. He let the passion overtake him and lost himself. His body surged into hers, taking him to heights he’d never been.

He couldn’t stop the rush of emotions gathering as each thrust drew a heated groan from her, all giving, all accepting. Nothing between them any longer. She belonged to him.

“Jasmine. Mine.” With a last, intense thrust, he buried himself deep inside of her.

“Yours,” she gasped. “Yours always.” She shuddered against him and collapsed on top of him draped in exhaustion.

The small final pulses of her body squeezed his heart. She didn’t move away, just stilled, with him inside her, her head on his chest and her hair streaming down his body and tickling his hips, content. Slowly she shifted, resting her leg between his thighs, and kissed the sensitive skin near his nipple.

He groaned. “You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that.”

“Well, if you want me to stop—” She eased away from him, and he dragged her back into his arms.

“Don’t you dare.”

Luke swooped in for a kiss just as his cell rang. He cursed, grabbing the phone off the nightstand and flipping it open. “Montgomery.”

Steve Paretti’s voice came over the line. “Gabe’s awake. I think you’d better get here fast.”

The hospital smelled of the same antiseptic. The barren walls were just as devoid of joy since the last time Jazz had visited Gabe, but at least now he was out of intensive care. That fact didn’t make her stomach less queasy, though.

As she and Luke strode on the linoleum tile toward his room, looking worse for wear in their rumpled clothes, dread bubbled up within her. Would he be okay? Had his leg shown more improvement? Did he blame her?

Luke put his hand on her back in a show of support. “Gabe’s going to be fine, but we’re not saying anything to my brother about the trouble. Agreed?”

She nodded, but one look at Gabe’s face told them that he already knew a lot. Flanked by Seth and Caleb, Gabe appeared weak. Except for his eyes—they burned in anger. Guilt flared in Jazz’s gut.

“It’s amazing what one hears when people assume they’re unconscious.” The corners of Gabe’s mouth creased with irritation. “It’s also amazing what those same people won’t confirm, and it really ticks me off. If one of you guys doesn’t start talking soon, I’m getting out of this bed and will find the answers myself.”

Despite his threats, they all knew he wasn’t going anywhere. His leg had been rigged with some contraption, immobilized and elevated. Then again, with Gabe you never knew. He was stubborn enough to find a way.

Gabe’s pointed stare nailed Steve. “You’ve known our family long enough to recognize my brothers are a bunch of wimps. Spill it, Paretti. Now.”

Paretti shot an apologetic glance at Jazz. “Okay. In a nutshell, you got knifed. Everyone at the sheriff’s office knows about Luke’s investigation and they are pissed. Joy got threatened. Brian Tower was murdered. Luke and Jazz got hauled off as suspects after Jazz’s apartment building burned down. And a few minutes ago, Wexler got a call that the arson investigator found bloody Arvada Police Academy sweats in Jazz’s size and a mostly wiped-clean crowbar near the smoldering rubble.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Luke muttered.

All eyes shifted to Jazz.

Another nail in her coffin. “I didn’t kill him.”

“No one here thinks you did,” Steve said. “Though few would’ve blamed you for offing Tower. If you’d done it, you’re too smart a cop not to cover your tracks better than that. Unfortunately the media and the top brass, including Tower’s father, are out for the easy arrest. There’s no warrant yet, but it won’t be long.”

“This is ridiculous,” Luke snapped. “She’s innocent.”

“Are you going to arrest me, Steve?”

“No, I’m getting as much information as I can about this case and will see what I can do to help you. You’re being railroaded, and I don’t like it.”

Everyone around the room nodded in agreement. Stunned, she realized that none of them looked at her with accusation. Their faith humbled her. “Thank you. All of you. But once the warrant’s issued, I’ll have to turn myself in.”

“Then there’s no time to waste. Start talking,” Gabe bit out.

Luke filled them in on what they knew. “We know they want Jasmine to take the fall for the corruption investigation. But this crazy focus on her past doesn’t fit. The vandalism, the phone calls threatening me, using Jasmine’s birth name. Those actions are personal. The shot that deliberately missed us. That was unemotional and professional.”

“Two motives,” Seth said, nodding. “Two perpetrators.”

“There’s no other way to explain the inconsistencies. Someone with a grudge against Jazz somehow hooked up with Tower. Of course, he didn’t count on ending up dead. Which sucks for us, because he was the linchpin.”

“Then who killed him?” Gabe asked.

“My informant claims the mob didn’t waste him. Wexler showed me photos of the body. He was beaten to a pulp with the same viciousness as the truck and apartment,” Luke said.

“Personal,” Jazz muttered.

“Which brings us back to our mystery woman and the guy in the Pinto,” Luke said. “We couldn’t tie the car to Tower, and there’s not much time for me to break into the DMV again…”

Steve raised a brow, and Luke’s voice trailed off. He cleared his throat. “But maybe there’s some sort of connection to one of Jazz’s old cases or to the IA investigation.”

“I suppose…” Steve shoved his hand through his hair. “I could run the Pinto against the IA files, see if something hits.”

Jazz saw doubt in Steve’s gaze. This had to be hard. He couldn’t go to his family to verify their information either. If he did, he was dead. But they were asking him to risk everything he’d given up his family for.

“It’s not fair for you to take this kind of chance with your career,” Jazz said. “If they find out, you could end up getting tarnished with the same brush as me.”

“Hell, what’s life without living on the dangerous side. Besides, it’s worth a shot. If it pans out, I get a promotion. But unless I hit triple sevens, it won’t stop the brass from coming after you, Jazz. Unless they can’t find you,” he said innocently.

Silence battered the room.

“You think she should run?” Luke asked.

“I’m just saying I wouldn’t be opposed to having a little more time to do the search.”

Luke walked over to Jazz and grabbed her hand. “It’s a good idea. You’re in danger. If there’s a plant in the sheriff’s office, we should avoid them. It’s not like you have an address anymore. They can’t expect to locate you immediately.”

Jazz recoiled from the idea. “I’ll look even more guilty. Wexler told me not to leave town.”

“Luke and Steve are right,” Seth said. “The cops can’t arrest you if they can’t find you. We need the time, and you’ll stay safe.”

“I don’t know.”

Caleb, who’d been silently watching, spoke, his voice raspy as he tugged at his scraggly beard. “What if the Pinto belongs to the woman who went after Joy?”

“Then we’re in trouble. We don’t know who she is,” Jazz said. “Luke pulled up her composite sketch, but I didn’t recognize her. It’s possible I knew her when I was a kid, but I lived in a lot of places, and people change as they age.”

Luke paced the room in frustration. “If only we knew the woman’s name.” He turned to Gabe. “Could she have touched something while she was in the SWAT den, something that would have her fingerprints? I heard she climbed all over you.”

“She touched me in a few anatomical places I won’t mention in mixed company, but nothing that would help.”

Jazz rubbed her face with her hands. “It’s a dead end. We have a face with no identity.”

“We’re going to get you out of here while Steve heads to the station to run those names.” Luke gripped her shoulders. “I’m still looking into what happened to a family from Jazz’s past. If we all hit another blind alley, we’ll regroup and try something else. We won’t stop until we find out who’s doing this.” He looked around the room. “Right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabe said. “Don’t you worry, Jazz. Once the Montgomerys sink their teeth into a problem we never give up.”

“Ever,” added Seth and Caleb simultaneously.

Steve turned to Luke. “Where can you go? They’ll be looking for you soon. You can’t head to your place. They’ll probably try there first. You need somewhere out of the way.”

“Easy.” Luke said. “The cabin. Nick took Joy and Mom there. It’s isolated, and nobody but friends and family know about it.”

Steve nodded. “Good idea. Then I’m out of here while you guys plan your attack.” He paused in front of Jazz and cuffed her arm. “You hang in there. We’ll take care of whoever is doing this to you.”

“I hope so.” Jazz shoved her hand in her pocket. Empty.

Luke gave her a small smile and pulled out a roll of butter rum Life Savers. He knew. He understood. She took the candy from his hand. Oh, how she wished she could let herself love him like he deserved. Who else on earth had ever been there for her like Luke Montgomery?

No one. She had to make sure his family was safe. This might be her last chance.

The woman toyed with the front of her stooge’s camouflage jacket as they crouched in a thicket outside the Montgomery cabin. She loved the way her red-tipped fingernails looked like claws waiting to strike. “You did as I instructed? Luke and Jane are coming here now?”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not an amateur. Luke’s family is drugged and bound. They have been for a while. Now give me those pictures.”

Her teeth grated. This was her plan. She was in control. Not him. “All but the girl will die? Right? I need her alive.”

“I know the dosage. They won’t survive much longer. The girl will live.”

“Good.” Luke Montgomery had to pay. With his brother and mother dead, he’d finally understand how much ignoring the rules cost. “How long before Luke and Jane get here?”

Irritated, he glanced at the GPS monitor. “About thirty minutes.”

Relief washed through her. The pilot was on stand-by. Well paid to ask no questions. She still had time to finish the setup. “The flat tire was a good move. Gives us plenty of leeway. What about the explosives?”

Paretti pulled out a bag, no larger than a baked potato.

“That’s it?”

“PETN packs a punch. With this amount, you could blow up an entire house.”

She smiled. “Excellent. Now let’s check out our bait.”

With quick and sure steps through the pine needles and past a cluster of aspens she headed toward the cabin, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves as she went. No sense leaving fingerprints. After opening the unlocked door, she scanned the room.

The man and the grandmother lay on the floor, still. The little girl rested, cuddled on the sofa, hugging some stupid stuffed fish. A pink blanket covered most of her.

Placing two gloved fingers against the kid’s throat, the woman smiled at the thready pulse. The Liquid K had done its job well. The kid would be out for at least another few hours. “Perfect. We’re ready.” She turned to him. “Throw the kid in the backseat of my car.”

He frowned at her. “What are you talking about? Jazz and Luke haven’t arrived. You said we’d take care of them here.”

She slid a .44 Magnum from her bag and pointed it at him. “I lied.”