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of a mechanical bull, longneck beers in hand and mugging tipsily for the camera.
    Maddie caught her breath, raised her head and met David’s gaze. “Peyton Shriver?”
    He nodded. “They certainly look like a couple.”
    “Appearances can be deceiving and besides, didn’t you encourage her to fan a romance with him?”
    “I didn’t mean for her to fall in love.”
    “She didn’t.” Maddie glared. “You got her into this, I can’t believe you’re going against her.”
    “I’m not going against her, I’m simply following the evidence.”
    “If by some wild, ridiculous stretch of the imagination Cassie did fall for Shriver, then it’s all your fault,” she accused. “You’ve got to assume responsibility for getting her involved.”
    David turned away, leaving her with the frustrating urge to kick him in the seat of his obstinate pants. He kept digging through the locker.
    A copy of Vogue. Two hair clips. Four ballpoint pens.
    “Ah-ha.”
    Maddie jerked her head around to peer over his shoulder to see what he was ah-ha-ing about. It was a travel brochure for Grand Cayman Island.
    “What?” she snapped. She didn’t like his self-satisfied expression. Men. They were so predictable. Gloating when they were certain they were right.
    “The smoking gun.”
    “Since when is a travel brochure considered a smoking gun?”
    “Since the world’s biggest dealer in stolen art lives in Grand Cayman and he just happens to be very friendly with Peyton Shriver.”
    “Oh come on, that’s quite a stretch, don’t you think?” she said, even as fear tightened her gut. “I bet a lot of people have travel brochures to Grand Cayman in their locker.”
    “But those people don’t work in a museum where a Cézanne just got heisted, nor are they dating art thieves,” David said.
    He was right and she knew it, but Maddie still couldn’t accept the fact that Cassie might be a willing participant in a crime.
    He touched her arm. “I know it’s difficult sometimes, to accept the truth.”
    She gritted her teeth. She didn’t want or need his pity. What did he know about the truth? All he cared about was bringing Shriver in.
    “You’re a cop. You should know a travel brochure proves nothing.”
    “It’s a step in a treacherous direction.”
    The people behind them were murmuring, discussing the significance of David’s find, but Maddie paid them no mind. Her attention was on the man standing to her left. The man with the penetrating dark gray eyes.
    Eyes, that if he were on your side, could comfort you. Eyes that said, You can always rely on me. But if he wasn’t on your side, if you were his enemy, those mercurial gray eyes issued an entirely different message: Do wrong and I’ll make sure you pay.
    Maddie shivered. She had no doubt that he could back up either message. He wasn’t a guy you’d want to tangle with in a dark alley.
    Or even a well lit one for that matter.
    She shifted her weight, her anxiety escalating with each passing moment.
    David’s cell phone did the Dragnet thing. He answered with a terse, “Marshall.”
    She tensed and leaned forward, straining to hear the voice on the other end. She couldn’t make out much of what he was saying but she did hear Cassie’s name bandied about.
    “Good work,” he said and switched off the phone.
    She raised her head. His eyes glowed with the thrill of his job. The man was a bloodhound through and through. Pick up a scent and he was off on the chase.
    “What is it?”
    He took a deep breath and she saw him trying to curb his excitement for her benefit. “Shriver and your sister caught the six-oh-five to Atlanta on Delta Air Lines. From there, they took a connecting flight to Grand Cayman.”
    Her heart slipped into her Nikes. “That still doesn’t mean Cassie went willingly.”
    David steepled his fingertips. “I know this is hard for you to deal with, but you’ve got to accept the possibility your sister is a fugitive from the law. I know it’s an