The vantage point he took was by the window on the far front right of the house, and to hide most of himself, he moved a piece of plywood over for cover. From where he took up res, he could see about seventy percent of Grier’s bow-front. What was missing was the rear door and the upper terrace, but this was as good as it was going to get.

Leaning up against the cold wall, his eyes scanned the little park with its wrought-iron fence and statue and gracefully limbed trees. Might as well enjoy the view. He wasn’t leaving until he saw Grier get into her car and drive away—without anyone on her tail.

Twenty minutes later what he feared most rolled up. The black unmarked was not what Jim’s buddy had described from the night before: no dings or dust on this bad boy. And the darkened windows prevented him from seeing the driver or any passenger.

But he had a feeling who it was.

Shit, he hated when he was right.

And this was all his fault.

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

Grier woke up at six a.m. and knew as soon as she saw the tail end of a Three’s Company episode that Isaac has left: She hadn’t restarted the DVD when they’d come up to her room . . . and yup, the security system was off.

She’d obviously slept through his going.

Arching over, she checked her bedside table, thinking that maybe he’d written her a note. But the only thing he’d left behind was the scent of the shampoo and soap he’d used: the cedar-y fragrance was on one of her pillows and some of her sheets.

Getting up, she pulled on her sweatshirt and went down to the second floor. The guest room was neat as a pin, the bed made to military precision. The only sign he’d been there at all was the single towel that had been hung to dry on the rack in the bath. He’d even wiped down the glass walls of the shower so there weren’t any water marks on the inside.

The man was a total ghost and she was a pathetic loser to think he’d make some gesture of good-bye.

She headed downstairs to the kitchen and stopped in the archway.

Well, turned out he had left one thing behind: On the counter was the plastic bag of cash.

“Damn it. Goddamn it.”

She stood there for a time, staring not at the twenty-five grand, but at the Birkin he’d tried to clean up for her.

Eventually, she went and got the home phone. The number she dialed was one she’d memorized two years ago.