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I’ve been—” He glanced at her bag. “Do you want to get that?”
    “Get what?”
    “Isn’t that your phone?”
    Instantly, she dived for the clip on her bag. “It’s been so long since I heard it…” She touched the screen, and the vibration stopped. “Text message.” The name of the sender took a moment to appear, so she glanced at the man who’d gone from stone-cold sexy to slightly scary in less than a minute. “How do you know who I am?”
    “Because I’ve been sent to find you.” Each vowel was drawn out like hot caramel over ice cream.
    This had to be because she’d questioned dozens of people and waved Clive’s picture all over the Caribbean. The iPhone vibrated again, reminding her of the text. She glanced down and almost cried out with joy. A message from Clive!
    watch ur back
    She lifted the device and shaded the sun to read it again.
    watch ur back
    Three weeks without a word from him, and she got this ? It was an inside joke as old as their friendship, a private reference to the sharks that trolled Wall Street looking for prey.
    Why? What did he mean by that?
    She dropped her hands onto her lap with a thump, holding the phone as she studied the man in the cab, questions bombarding her. She went with the ones this stranger could answer. “Who are you, and why are you following me?”
    “I plan to tell you outright, ma’am, but I’ll warn you, it might be a little upsetting.”
    What could he possibly tell her that could make her day any suckier?
    “Hit me, pal. I’m in a hurry.”
    “All right.” He straightened and turned to look directly at her. “I’m here on behalf of a woman named Eileen Stafford.”
    White lights flashed behind her eyes as if she’d been punched in the head.
    Eileen Stafford.
    Oh, yeah. Her day just got seriously worse.

CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    WADE KNEW THAT look so well. That blood-draining, eye-popping realization that distorted a target’s face the millisecond they realized they’d been shot. Instinct made him reach a reassuring hand to Vanessa, but she snapped her arm back, clutching the phone to her chest, speechless.
    “You know Eileen Stafford,” he said.
    It wasn’t a question, because that wasn’t the blankness of confusion that paled her creamy complexion. That was raw horror and a shell-shocked brain that hadn’t quite engaged yet.
    She flipped the metal handle and threw the car door open. Wade lunged and managed to snag a handful of her shirt before she leaped.
    “Hey!” the cabbie yelled, slamming on his brakes.
    She jerked away, and cloth tore as Wade yanked her back.
    “Stop the cab!” she hollered, throwing him a venomous look as he managed to pull her back safely and the cab squealed to the curb.
    He let go of the shirt, his whole hand circling her slender but solid bicep. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
    She shook her arm hard. “You are hurting me.”
    He loosened but didn’t release. “Please listen to me.”
    Her eyes blazed. “No. I know who Eileen Stafford is, and I know what she is.” She tried to shake him off again, clenching her teeth when she failed. “Whatever you’re selling, buddy, I’m not buying.”
    “Just stop moving long enough to listen to me.”
    Her eyes turned to slits behind her glasses. “I don’t need to listen. I know what you’re going to say. She’s my birth mother. I’m adopted. She’s rotting in jail for murder. I’ve known for years.”
    He opened his mouth to speak, and she held her hand up.
    “Stop.” She wrenched her arm free. “I am not even remotely interested in hearing anything about her. I don’t care if she died and left me a stash of gold bullion. She doesn’t exist. This is nonnegotiable.”
    “I haven’t had a chance to say my piece, ma’am.”
    “No you haven’t, bubba . Don’t you know the meaning of nonnegotiable?”
    He took his shot. “She’s dying.”
    “Oh, Jesus Chri—hey!” She yelped as he squeezed her arm again. “I don’t care . Not my