"Where are you?" he began, but Terry clamped his hand over her mouth and grabbed the phone.

"If you want her back, get the money together. Two million, small bills, unmarked. I'll let you know where to make the drop. And you'll make it alone, Blade, if you don't want her hurt."

He hung up the phone, then let Serena go. The sound of Justin's voice did what the hours of fear hadn't been able to. On a trembling sob, she buried her face in the pillow and wept.

"She's all right." Justin replaced the phone with studied care. "She's all right."

"Thank God." Anna grabbed both of his hands.

"What next?"

"I get the cash together, take it wherever he tells me."

"We'll take photographs of the bills," Lieutenant Renicki stated as he stirred himself from his chair. "One of my men will tail you when you make the drop."

"No."

"Listen, Mr. Blade," he began patiently, "there's no guarantee he'll let Miss MacGregor go after he's been paid off. He's more likely to—"

"No," Justin repeated. "We play it my way, Lieutenant. No tails." The lieutenant took a deep breath. "All right, we can plant a bug in the case. That way, when he picks up the money, he might lead us right to her."

"And if he spots it?" Justin countered. "No," he said again. "I'm not taking any chances."

"You're taking a hell of a chance by handing him two million dollars cold," Lieutenant Renicki tossed back. "Mrs. MacGregor." He turned to Anna, thinking a woman, a mother, would be more reasonable. "We want your daughter back healthy, the same as you. Let us help you."

She gave him a long, steady look while the hand in Justin's trembled lightly. "I appreciate your concern, Lieutenant, but I'm afraid I feel as Justin does."

"Photograph the money," Caine put in. "And go after him when Rena's safe. By God, I'd like to prosecute him myself," he added in a savage mutter.

"Then you'd better hope he'll be prosecuted for only kidnapping and extortion—not murder," Lieutenant Renicki added cruelly. "He'll keep her alive until he's got the money. After that, it's anyone's guess. Listen, Blade," he continued as his patience snapped. "You don't like dealing with cops, maybe because you had some trouble years back, but it's a hell of a lot smarter to deal with us than to deal with him." He tossed his hand toward the phone.

In an unconscious gesture Justin ran his hand over his ribs. No, he thought, he didn't trust the police. The memory of those endless questions while his wound was healing into a scar were ingrained in his memory. Maybe he was making a mistake. Maybe he should… His fingers froze abruptly. Scars. No scars!

"Oh, God," he murmured as his eyes dropped to his hand. "Oh, my God!"

"What is it?" Anna was standing beside him, her ringers digging into his arm.