Still, thinking about his own life didn’t solve the problem of Liz Palmer and what he was going to do with her. She couldn’t go to Houston, he thought again, but there were other places she could go until he could assure her that her life could settle back the way she wanted it. His parents were his first thought, and the quiet country home they’d retired to in Lancaster. If he could find a way to slip her out of Mexico, she would be safe there. It would even be possible to have her daughter join her. Then his conscience would ease. Jonas had no doubt that his parents would accept them both, then dote on them.

Once he’d done what he’d come to do, he could go to Lancaster himself. He’d like to see Liz there, in surroundings he was used to. He wanted time to talk with her about simple things. He wanted to hear her laugh again, as she had only once in all the days he’d known her. Once they were there, away from the ugliness, he might understand his feelings better. Perhaps by then he’d be able to analyze what had happened inside him when she’d pressed her cheek against his and had offered unconditional support.

He’d wanted to hold on to her, to just hold on and the hell with the world. There was something about her that made him think of lazy evenings on cool porches and long Sunday afternoon walks. He couldn’t say why. In Philadelphia he rarely took time for such things. Even socializing had become business. And he’d seen for himself that she never gave herself an idle hour. Why should he, a man dedicated to his work, think of lazing days away with a woman obsessed by hers?

She remained a mystery to him, and perhaps that was an answer in itself. If he thought of her too often, too deeply, it was only because while his understanding was growing, he still knew so little. If it sometimes seemed that discovering Liz Palmer was just as important as discovering his brother’s killer, it was only because they were tied together. How could he take his mind off one without taking his mind off the other? Yet when he thought of her now, he thought of her stretched out on his mother’s porch swing, safe, content and waiting for him.

Annoyed with himself, Jonas checked his watch. It was after nine on the East Coast. He’d call his office, he thought. A few legal problems might clear his mind. He’d no more than picked up the receiver when Liz came out from her bedroom.

“I didn’t know you were up,” she said, and fiddled nervously with her belt. Odd, she felt entirely different about sharing the plush little villa with him than she did her home. After all, she reasoned, at home he was paying rent.

“I thought you’d sleep longer.” He replaced the receiver again. The office could wait.