“Doesn’t matter. Just let me know if this is the same woman.”

Bentz nodded and Hayes motioned for the attendant to pull the sheet away.

Slowly the woman’s face was uncovered. She lay staring upward, unmoving, her skin cast in a bluish hue.

Bentz felt bile climb up his throat as he gaped in disbelief.

Jennifer wasn’t on the slab.

Instead he found himself staring into the decidedly dead face of Fortuna Esperanzo.

CHAPTER 31

“It’s not Jennifer,” Bentz said, forcing the words out, his fear and confusion mounting. What the hell was this? Fortuna? Dead? Oh, hell!

Hayes’s head snapped around as he stared at Bentz. “What?”

“It’s not the woman I was chasing. This is Fortuna Esperanzo. Jennifer worked with her in an art gallery in Venice.”

“This woman?” Hayes pointed at the body. “Esperanzo?”

“Yes!” Bentz leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a second, only to open them again and still find himself in the middle of this nightmare.

Hayes rubbed his forehead, frustration and exhaustion evident. “No wonder I couldn’t reach her.”

“Are you certain this is the woman they fished out of the ocean?” Bentz asked.

“Yep. She still smells of salt water,” the attendant said. “Don’t know how she died yet. Not until the autopsy.”

Frustrated, Bentz shoved a hand through his hair. “What was she wearing?” He looked at the attendant. “You have the clothes?”

“I think…let’s see.” She checked a clipboard. “T-shirt, size small, sleeveless. Pink. Shorts. Size two. White. White panties, and a nude colored bra. Thirty-two B. No shoes. No jewelry.”

“Son of a bitch,” Bentz said.

“What?”

“The outfit. Exactly what the woman I was chasing had on. I mean, I don’t know about the underclothes, but she definitely had on a pink sleeveless tee and white shorts. Someone knew. The killer. He or she knew.”

“You don’t think Jennifer’s the killer?”

“How could she be?”

“Who else?”

“Damned if I know.” As a wave of sickness roiled inside him, Bentz turned away. “Let’s go talk to Yolanda Salazar and see what she knows. Maybe she can make the connection between Fortuna Esperanzo and the woman who jumped off the cliff.” He was already walking toward the exit, a deep soul-numbing fear holding him in its icy grasp. Olivia, oh for the love of God, where was she? God help him if she was dead. To Hayes he said, “But first, we need to stop at the Center and find my wife.”

As I stand on deck of my boat with my precious cargo below, I can’t help the tremor of excitement that skims through my blood. So far, so good. Everything is going perfectly.

No thanks to that Olivia.