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  The woman nodded. “I haven’t been able to force myself to pack up her things. I keep expecting Mae to walk in the door and tell me it was all a big mistake and her action double was the one who really died.”

  Renata blinked in surprise when Gabe reached out and covered the woman’s hand with his own and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. She knew what it was like to lose a loved one to violence—hard to accept, at times unbelievable and always haunting. She wondered if Gabe knew firsthand, as well. That he was being so kind to the woman touched her.

  “Y-you want to see my daughter’s apartment?” Mrs. Chin asked.

  Gabe nodded and softly said, “If that would be okay with you.”

  Mae’s apartment was on the next block. Her mother let them in and then asked they set the lock when they left, saying she couldn’t bear to come inside herself. The apartment was small but colorful, swaths of bright cloth hanging from the windows and covering the second-hand chairs and couch.

  As they began their search, Renata said, “When I told you to let me do the talking, which part of that order didn’t you understand?”

  “Order? You don’t give orders to your partner.”

  “You’re not my partner!” she said, exasperated.

  “Then what am I doing here?”

  “I’ve been wondering that myself. I’m tempted to take you somewhere and handcuff you so you can’t—”

  “Handcuffs?” he interrupted. “Kinky. But I’m flexible, willing to try new things.”

  Wanting to scream, Renata swallowed it and got to work.

  But a search of the living room and the bedroom gave them nothing new other than manager Fred Woo’s phone number, which Renata found stamped on the back of a glossy photo of the young woman, the kind of photograph an actress might have in her portfolio.

  Or an escort.

  Obviously thinking the same thing, Gabe copied the number onto a small pad of paper he slipped out of his pocket and asked, “So what kind of a manager do you think Woo is?”

  “A bad one, according to Mae’s mother.”

  “Mae was a bad actress,” Gabe told her. “At least according to the couple of reviews I dug up on the Net. Mrs. Chin is simply out of touch with reality concerning her daughter. What I meant was…which of Mae’s careers did Woo manage?”

  “Let’s find out.” Renata picked up the telephone and put it to her ear. “Still has a dial tone.”

  “You’re going to call him?”

  “That’s the direct method.” Renata dialed the number but got a startling voice mail message, which she repeated for Gabe. “Leave your name, number and measurements?”

  “Hmm, now why didn’t I think of using a line like that?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  Wondering if Gabe was trying to be charming or if it simply came naturally, Renata laughed. “On your answering machine or in person?”

  “I don’t know. What do you think?”

  Trying to get serious, she said, “What I think is that message doesn’t tell us anything for sure.”

  “True. It could apply to either profession.”

  “I’ll try again later and see if I can find out for certain.”

  They left the apartment the way they’d found it and locked the door behind them.

  “What do you have on the escort service?” Gabe asked as they descended the stairs.

  “Only that it’s called Lotus Blossoms and that it works off a Web site.”

  The sun had set while they were in Mae Chin’s apartment, and the street was cast in a deep gloom. It was that odd time of day when everything had a surreal cast and the imagination came into play.

  Such as her feeling that curious eyes were following their progress down the street.

  “But you think there’s a Chinatown connection?” Gabe asked.

  Renata was busy checking out the street in every direction. No one suspicious that she could see.

  “There’s definitely an Asian link,” she said, trying to relax. “Lotus Blossoms…the escorts featured on the site are of Asian descent. As to Chinatown itself, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  “So what could Mae Chin have gotten on Fred Woo?”

  “Proof of illegal activities, I imagine. Chinatown’s had a history of gambling and smuggling operations, among other things.”

  “You mean drugs.”

  “Actually, I was thinking of herbs.” Probably because they were passing another herb shop, this one dark and seemingly deserted. “Things used for medicinal purposes that are illegal in this country. The Chinatown Chamber of Commerce has made it a priority to clean up its streets, but criminals never give up until they’re put behind bars. They merely go farther underground.”

  “Or take cover under a semi-legitimate operation like an escort service,” Gabe offered.

  “That’s one business I would like to close down. Not that S.A.F.E. would ever be involved in that kind of an operation if it didn’t matter to national security.”

  “You’re passionate about stopping criminals.”

  “Inherited genes,” she admitted. “My dad and uncle were cops.”

  “Were. Retired?”

  “Uncle Jack. Dad was killed in the line of duty.”

  She tried to keep the familiar tension from her voice, but knew it was impossible.

  “Sorry,” he said, brushing his hand lightly over one shoulder as if in sympathy.

  “Me, too.”

  Only the hand didn’t drop. Renata grew warm and a little flustered. It seemed her hormones didn’t know that they weren’t supposed to act up when she was working. Blame it on her busy schedule, she thought. Too busy to make sure all her needs were satisfied on a regular basis. It wasn’t anything more significant, she told herself.

  Renata was glad to see the street where Gabe’s car was parked a short distance ahead.

  But just before they reached it, a young Asian man stepped out of a doorway. Head down, shoulders hunched forward, he drove his way through them.

  Trying to maintain her balance, Renata muttered, “Well, excuse me.”

  “What did you say?” came the sharp reply from behind them.

  She turned to face the guy whose spiked hair bristled and told him, “That’s what you should have said if you had any manners.”

  “Renata…”

  Deciding to forget it as Gabe so obviously meant her to do, she turned back toward the car only to face another young Asian who stood in their path. This guy was shorter and stockier and wore his hair in a traditional braided pigtail down his back. He was also wearing the loose clothing of someone who’d been practicing one of the martial arts.

  Gabe stiffened beside her. Then she was jerked from behind as the first guy shoved between them again.

  Uh-oh, this wasn’t good.

  Not when the two of them blocked the sidewalk and looked ready to fight.

  Chapter Six

  “Do you gentlemen have a problem?” Gabe asked more calmly than he was feeling.

  “You’re the problem,” Spike said, while Pigtail simply gave him a small bow and took the position.

  Great. He could hold his own in a street fight, but he was no martial arts expert. He had the feeling this guy was—maybe both of them were.

  “I suggest you move on,” Renata said, flashing her badge. “Unless you want trouble.”

  “Trouble is my middle name,” Spike said with a grin.

  Gabe just bet it was. He gauged the two men, hoping to find a weakness.

  “So give us your purse,” Spike said to Renata, holding out his hand.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Then I’ll have to take it.”

  The man lunged for Renata, who whipped out of the way. Gabe grabbed his arm to swing him around and into his friend, but got a kick in the side for good measure.

  “Who put you up to this?” Renata asked. “How much did he pay you? I can pay more for you to give us a name, then leave us alone.”

  Spike simply grinned and w
ent after her again. Gut tightening in response, Gabe stepped between them to stop him, but the much larger Pigtail grabbed Gabe with enormous strength and threw him against a parked car, setting off the alarm.

  “Gabe!” Renata called out, sounding properly horrified. He grunted in return.

  Seeing that she was still dancing away from Spike, he threw himself back at Pigtail. He landed a few shots before a meaty fist caught him in the side of the head. Blinded with pain, he pummeled the guy in the gut and heard him curse in some Chinese dialect as he staggered backwards. Gabe went after him and got a few more shots in before Pigtail got in a fast, sharp kick to Gabe’s side that literally took away his breath.

  He went down to the pavement.

  Renata went after the smaller guy, kicking him at the back of the knee so he stumbled forward.

  Before Gabe could stand up, Pigtail’s foot was coming at him again. He grabbed hold and twisted and the man yowled and went down hard. Satisfaction was short-lived. Thick legs snapped out and locked around Gabe’s neck and nothing he could do would budge them. His air supply suddenly was cut off and everything started to waver before his eyes.

  “Let go of him or I’ll shoot!” he heard Renata yell.

  Other people were yelling, too, both in English and in Chinese, but Gabe couldn’t make out what they were saying. The pressure didn’t let up. Barely aware of a scuffle next to him, Gabe was having all he could do to simply hang on and not pass out.

  He saw movement…Spike knocking into Renata just as a high-pitched thwang seared his ears.

  Something wet flashed in his face and the thick legs jerked open, freeing him, and Pigtail wailed loudly in Chinese. Gabe shook his head. His vision cleared in time to see droplets of blood spray around him. Spike! He turned quickly even as the smaller of their attackers ran across the street and practically flew over a locked iron gate. Gabe lost no time in going after him, but by the time he straddled the iron gate and peered into the parking lot, Spike was gone. Gabe ran to back up Renata.

  “Move and I’ll shoot again,” Renata threatened the man still writhing on the ground.

  Gabe focused on Pigtail, who was holding his thigh where Renata had shot him.

  “That shot was kind of close, don’t you think?” Gabe asked, meaning the shot had come too close to him for comfort.

  “Sorry,” Renata said without taking her eyes off the wounded man. “I was aiming for his chest.”

  “You missed.”

  UNIFORMED OFFICERS and paramedics took care of the Chinese man whose name supposedly was Sam Wong. He didn’t seem like a Sam to Renata—she hadn’t heard him utter a word of English other than his name. Or maybe he was playing as if he couldn’t speak English because he thought he could better protect himself.

  As the medics were loading the thug into the ambulance, Renata anxiously told Gabe, “You should let the paramedics look at you.”

  After what he’d been through, she wanted in the worst way to put her arms around him, but she didn’t dare lest she break apart. That’s the last thing she would do in front of him or anyone else.

  “I’m fine. Breathing and everything.”

  “This isn’t the time to joke—”

  “It’s the perfect time for a little humor. Better than feeling sorry for myself.”

  “You’re sure you’re all right?”

  “Maybe a couple of bruises,” he admitted. “If I feel any distress later, I promise you’ll be the first to know. What about you?”

  She felt his concerned gaze on her and remembered the way he’d tried to protect her. Warmth spilled through her and she choked out, “I’m okay.”

  “Well, later, if you feel weird or anything, just yell.” He lifted one eyebrow at her and said, “I’ve always wanted the opportunity to play doctor.”

  Renata almost smiled. Gabe was incorrigible. If she hadn’t shot Sam Wong, or whatever his real name was, he might have killed Gabe.

  A civilian, and she’d brought him into this.

  She didn’t want to think too closely on the more personal aspect of her feelings in the matter, but she found that while Gabe’s teasing soothed her guilt at having gotten him into this situation, it also heightened the escalating attraction between them.

  This wasn’t good, she told herself.

  She didn’t trust Gabe. But he’d put himself into the fray for her…

  As they gave their statements to the local police—basically that two men had tried to rob them and then had turned violent—Renata wondered whether someone at the CPD would tie this incident with the first. Neither man had indicated they’d been sent to kill her, and they hadn’t had any weapons other than their hands and feet—though in Pigtail’s case, that had been enough. Spike had ordered her to give over her purse, which indicated a robbery and which meant the CPD wouldn’t be breathing down her neck about the encounter unless someone did connect the two incidents.

  If that happened, Renata would have to face those ramifications to her career that she feared. No way could she avoid them.

  By rights, she should call in the attack to S.A.F.E. herself. She wasn’t in the mood for a dressing-down by a man who hadn’t acknowledged that someone tried to kill her the other night, simply because he was angry with her for admitting the truth about his burying the report when a reporter had waylaid her. Certain she would get no backup there, she stubbornly refused to make the call. She hated that Mulvihill had put her in this position.

  Renata didn’t argue when Gabe insisted he take her to Club Undercover for a drink or three. She felt wound as tight as a rubber band. She needed to loosen up before she got into it with him. She was going to have to tell him to back off, that she’d changed her mind. Maybe after almost getting killed, he would have a change of heart and be happy to do so. Only somehow, she didn’t think so.

  “So who were they working for?” she mused as they headed for the club.

  “My guess would be Fred Woo,” Gabe said. “Those thugs were pretty determined to get your purse from you. Maybe he thought you found whatever it was that Mae Chin was using to blackmail him.”

  “But how could he even know we were at her place?”

  “Maybe he had it staked out.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Renata said. “If he wanted to find whatever she was holding over him, he could have broken in and gotten it himself a week ago!”

  “Whoa. You do need a drink.”

  While she figured she could down a couple of fingers of anything straight, Renata decided to act civilized and order a Cosmopolitan when Gabe delivered her to the bar.

  On second thought…

  “Make that a triple,” Renata told Blade. The bartender was alone, taking stock of the bar before the club opened.

  “I’m hoping not to have to carry you to get you home,” Gabe said.

  “You’re the one who insisted on bringing me to the club for a drink. But all right. A double.”

  “Double Cosmopolitan coming right up,” Blade said, retrieving a martini glass.

  “And you need to drink that with food.” Gabe was cutting across the club. “Don’t start without me.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To raid the kitchen for anything edible.”

  Renata didn’t argue with him. Though she felt more stressed than hungry, she knew drinking on an empty stomach would be a mistake. She didn’t need to be sick or pass out on top of everything else.

  Club Undercover wouldn’t open for another half hour, and staff members were rushing around, getting everything in order. So Renata was surprised when an attractive woman with mahogany-red hair and wearing a slinky purple dress that showed off her very long legs took the stool next to her.

  “Hi, we haven’t met. I’m Cassandra Freed, one of Gabe’s colleagues.”

  She held out a hand with long purple nails. Renata shook and said, “I’m Renata—”

  “Agent Renata Fox. I know who you are, even though Gabe’s been holding out and hasn’t pro
perly introduced us.” Cassandra narrowed her thick-lashed, pale gray eyes at Renata and studied her for a few seconds before nodding. “You really do need our help.”

  “Gabe’s been talking about me?” A fact that immediately raised Renata’s hackles.

  “He hasn’t said anything. I saw you walk in with him, is all.”

  Not so easily appeased, Renata said, “You knew who I was.”

  “I read newspapers and watch broadcast news.”

  “And she knows things about people,” Blade said, setting Renata’s drink down before her.

  “Knows things?” Renata echoed.

  “It’s a curse,” Cassandra said with a shrug of her bared shoulders.

  Renata took a long swallow and felt the alcohol soothe its way down into her stomach.

  Right, her name was Cassandra, like the ancient Greek prophetess, and she knew “things.”

  “So what do you do around here?” Renata asked as the alcohol bounced from her stomach straight to her head.

  “A little of this and a little of that—hostessing, magic tricks, trying to save lives.” Cassandra gave her a wry smile. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  Not knowing what to believe, Renata took another swallow of her drink and asked, “About the saving lives or the psychic thing?”

  “Well, I don’t know if I would call it that, exactly, but yes, the second. Not surprising, though. You’re a person who sees things in black or white. No shades of gray for you. If you can’t see it, you don’t believe it.”

  Renata glanced at Blade who leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, simply listening. Apparently, he was in tune with this woman.

  “You have a good patter going, Cassandra. You could make a living as a fortune-teller.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. I can’t actually tell someone how their life is going to turn out. I get impressions, not always clear as to the meaning.”

  “No, they wouldn’t be, would they?” she asked, an edge to her voice.

  Cassandra raised her eyebrows and slid off her stool. “All right, then, I’ll just leave you to your drink.”

  “Wait.” Wondering if she could possibly be for real, Renata put her hand on the other woman’s arm. “Look, I’ve had a rough afternoon. Don’t leave.”