“Oh, I think you know.” She laughed, a deep, naughty chuckle that caused his blood to run cold. “You just have trouble believing what is right in front of your face. I’m back RJ, and the good news is that you still want me.”

I glance in the rearview mirror, catching my own smile. “Good job,” I tell myself. Rick Bentz is running around in circles, chasing down all of his ex-wife’s old acquaintances, digging up the past. Which is just damned perfect.

It’s a good feeling, knowing I finally got to him. “You bastard,” I say, thinking of his chiseled face. “You deserve it.” Still driving, I kick off my high heels and drive barefoot, my toes curling over the accelerator. I sensed his frustration through the wireless connection and it was a rush. Following him at a distance, watching him tear after a ghost.

I’m still on an adrenaline high, one I plan to keep going.

Approaching the freeway overpass I toss the phone into the passenger seat and roll down my window. Yes, it’s a little smoggy, but it’s L.A. Of course there’s haze. It doesn’t stop the wind from rushing through my hair as I wind my way toward the ramp.

The prepaid cell phone is perfect.

No way to trace a call.

Poor Bentz. He won’t be able to find me; not until I want him to.

He fell right into the trap that I laid for him. Maybe he’s losing his edge.

Good.

He never knew that I watched him; followed him. I knew exactly when he was visiting Shana McIntyre and, today, that bitch Lorraine Newell. Jesus, she’s a miserable human being.

And as for Bentz?

Dear God, the man is predictable.

Always has been. These people never change.

I punch the throttle, then check my speed and ease up a bit. This wouldn’t be a good time for a ticket.

But my heart pounds wildly.

It’s time to ramp things up a bit.

I warm inside at the thought. My reflection winks at me. “Smart girl,” I say into the wind as I consider my next move.

Bentz will never know what hit him.

CHAPTER 17

Hayes slapped the files shut and leaned back in his desk chair. It squeaked in protest, adding to the cacophony of sounds—computer keys clicking, phones ringing, conversations buzzing. And beneath it all was the ever-present rumble of the ancient air conditioning system.