Braithe couldn’t keep her head up when Paul crouched down next to her. It bobbed upright for a minute and then settled back on her shoulder. There was a narrow window, high above where Braithe was tied; the light that filtered through made it look like she was wearing a yellow T-shirt. Rainy could only see the back of Braithe’s head, but Paul was looking at Rainy as he leaned over the woman. He slapped her, hard, across the face. Braithe barely made a sound, which could mean she was too drugged to realize it had happened or it had happened so often she was used to it. Rainy kept her face impassive; she would not give him control that easily.

“Our little Braithe was sitting at the bar, drinking white wine like a bad cliché, when I showed up. Rocked your world, didn’t I, B?”

Rainy made her face as wooden as possible as she listened to him; she wouldn’t give him anything to work with if she could help it.

“You know what I thought when I saw her sitting there, Rainy?”

She didn’t like the way he said her name, dragging out the a. Ray-nee.

“I thought, what a sad little queen bee, sitting on that stool in her cold shoulder blouse, looking like someone just broke her heart.” Paul let all his features sag, mimicking what must have been Braithe’s posture at the bar. God, thought Rainy, why was Braithe in that bar that night? Had she called Stephen, or had she just needed to get away?

“And someone had broken her heart, Ray-nee, that someone was your guy, wasn’t it? Your Grant.” He paused for her reaction, his narrow face turning serious with his tone.

His blue, fishy eyes studied Braithe, and he tilted his head to the side so that it matched the angle of hers. He looked like a puppet relaxed on its strings.

“Said she’d flown here from Washington with some girlfriends for a weekend getaway. So I asked what she wanted to get away from—” He clapped his hands twice, bouncing on one leg with the flair of a performer. Of course, Rainy thought: Vegas, he’s a showman.

“She thought that was so, so funny. Do you know what she told me next, Rainy?”

“I can’t wait for you to tell me, Paul,” she answered dryly.

“She said she was there to call her ex, the man she was still in love with.” Rainy swallowed; she wished she had water to cool the aching in her throat. How long had she been here? Paul stared at her, his eyes mesmerizing.

“She took your little game as a sign, you see? And then the psychic...you girls just had to stop to talk to that cracked nut, didn’t you?” He tapped a closed fist to the side of his head, clicking his tongue.