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him. Which pleased Antoinette inordinately, of course. His ex hated him—because he’d never really loved her.
    Stop! Think of something else!
    Madeline Barker’s voice came to him again. That’s discriminatory.
    Setting his guitar aside, he frowned. Mississippi wasn’t exactly high on his list of places to see. But he knew what need was. And he had nothing here, did he? He was stuck in an empty house with only his guitar for company, working night and day so he wouldn’t break down and start drinking again.
    His life had become too pathetic for words. He loved California, had lived in Newport Beach nearly all his life, but the steady pounding of the waves twenty yards from his house seemed to whisper, “Maria…Maria… Maria.”
    He’d been an idiot to lose her. And he’d been even more of an idiot to place the rope that had hanged him right inside Antoinette’s beautifully manicured fingers. Now she was laughing while she watched him swing….
    Maybe it was time to stop the show. He wouldn’t force his daughter to see him; he couldn’t bear the thought of making her any unhappier than she alreadywas. She’d told him she’d be better off if he gave up, walked away. Maybe, for a while, he should. Lord knew he wasn’t doing anyone any good sitting here going out of his mind. And he wasn’t about to vacation in Hawaii by himself. He didn’t need that much time on his hands. If he went, he probably wouldn’t last a day before seeking out the closest pub.
    â€œWhat the hell,” he muttered and turned on a light so he could see the number Madeline Barker had called him from.
    Â 
    Madeline raised her head and blinked at the shrill ring. Could it be morning? Already?
    Her body felt stiff and sore. Squinting at her watch, she realized why. It was only one o’clock. She couldn’t have been asleep for more than twenty minutes, and slumping over her desk had put a crick in her neck.
    The phone rang again. She almost dropped the handset but eventually brought it to her ear.
    â€œHello?” Her voice sounded throaty and low.
    â€œMs. Barker?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œIt’s Hunter Solozano.”
    She jumped up, then teetered on her feet for a moment. “What do you want, Mr. Solozano?”
    â€œWhat airport should I use?”
    â€œFor… You’re coming? Here?”
    â€œIsn’t that what you wanted?”
    â€œYes, but—” nerves made her scalp tingle “—we haven’t discussed any of the logistics.”
    â€œI charge a thousand dollars a day, plus expenses.”
    A thousand dollars a day! She clapped a hand over her mouth. But he didn’t pause.
    â€œYou said you had no worries about paying me. Is that still true?”
    He cost a fortune. Even more than she’d expected. But she wasn’t about to admit she had any doubts. Not after what he’d said to her before. I think it’s the accent. Maybe she lived in the boondocks by his standards, but she was no uneducated, backward hick. “Sure. No problem,” she lied.
    â€œFine. I’ll need the first five thousand as a retainer.”
    She bit her lip. That alone would wipe out her checking account and leave her short on next month’s bills. The paper was a labor of love but hardly a fabulous living. “How long do you think the…investigation will take?”
    â€œI have no idea,” he said. “How committed are you to finding your father?”
    She winced at the staggering financial implications. If Mr. Solozano stayed for a month, it’d cost her upward of $20,000. And that was taking weekends off.
    But she’d tried everything else. This felt like her only hope. “More committed than I’ve ever been to anything.”
    â€œFine. I’ll be there on Thursday.”
    She gulped. “So soon?”
    â€œYou’re in luck. I was planning a vacation that fell