The reply was almost instantaneous. Printouts?

Donovan replied. Dozens.

Pappy’s reply. Get them.

Donovan snorted, dreading what he knew he had to do. He shivered as he went back to his copy of the Wall Street Journal.

Sam, sans her carry-on bag, was back at the cybercafe at seven in the morning. She greeted the day manager as though he were an old friend. She even sat down at the counter for her coffee and bagel. They talked about the weather, Christmas, and his girlfriend, and what he was going to buy her for Christmas. “Just as soon as my shift is over, I’m going shopping.” He grinned.

“If you can afford it, you can’t go wrong with diamond earrings. Diamond chips are good, too,” she said at the look of dismay on the young man’s face. “A diamond is a diamond.”

Sam paid for an extra coffee and for her computer time. She settled herself into the same chair as yesterday and turned on the computer. She was up and running within seconds, searching with a vengeance. When she finally found a Martina Crystal, a Bally showgirl and Douglas’s soon-to-be new bride, she almost fell off the chair. She calculated the time difference as she typed in her message to the next Mrs. Rainford.

The message was long but detailed, with particulars, and provided links to the Bureau of Vital Statistics along with a list of all of Douglas’s previous wives, herself included. She used words like gigolo, honeymoon junkie, and marrying fool. The last thing she added was a curt sentence that read,

Beware of the law firm of Prizzi, Prizzi, Prizzi, and Prizzi.

She signed it simply,

One of Douglas’s ex-wives.

Sam sent off the email, then dusted her hands dramatically.

She leaned back in the chair and laced her hands behind her head. She closed her eyes and let her mind roam. When it all came together in her mind, she sent off another email to Kayla’s brother informing him of Martina Crystal along with a link that would take him to the marriage license bureau. If Joe could get someone to Vegas to talk to Martina, she might be able to lead him to Douglas. If she didn’t kill him first. The thought made Sam smile.

By midafternoon she had five more email addresses. She sent off five emails before she broke for lunch to get another hot dog. She ate only one since she was going out to dinner with her team members. It was just as good as the two she’d eaten the day before.

It was a gray, depressing day, with the threat of snow in the air as she walked along, her eyes searching the crowds for someone who might be watching or following her. He or she was out there, she just couldn’t spot the tail.