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seeing her - his first love - after all these years, that was all. Plus the fact that he didn't like working with anymore, especially the client who'd hired him. But with Katie there was another layer.
                  Calling in to report once or twice a day he could handle. Breathing the same air, smelling her provocative scent, having her in his space - no, thanks.
                  He rubbed his chest against the ache that had settled there upon first seeing her. The focus, the action of working the case would enable him to treat her like any other client. Eventually.
                  So far, so good. They hadn't discussed the old days while Rick had searched Tommy's place for scraps of paper, plane or bus ticket stubs, anything that might give a clue as to where Harrington had gone.
                  On the assumption that Harrington really was being watched by the mob as he'd told Katie, Rick had swept the guy's place for bugs and surveillance equipment. And found nothing. As a precaution, he needed to sweep Katie's place, too. If he didn't find anything there, he'd be free to start working the case. Alone.
                  As he swung his 'Vette behind her late-model four-door compact in the drive of a small brick house, his stomach clenched. He'd never seen Katie's home, never known she lived in this popular older neighbourhood. After college, she'd gone to work for a major airline in Tulsa. How long had she been in Oklahoma City? Longer than the three years since his own return?
                  Those questions had nothing to do with her supposedly missing sister. Rick pushed them aside as he got out of the car, grabbing his device for detecting transmitters and his cell phone. Sergeant Kyle Walker, a buddy from the Oklahoma City Police Department, had promised to call Rick back after reviewing the report of the traffic accident that had send Grace to the Hospital. Walker had also said he would see what he could find out about any do-wrongs named Henderson.
                  Rick followed Katie up the neatly swept concrete porch steps, flanked by terra-cotta pots brimming with yellow and white petunias. There were no memories for him here, nothing to distract him from the case.
                  Except the woman whose hips swayed so compellingly as she moved across the porch.
                  From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of silver. He turned in time to see the tail end of a sedan across the intersection at the end of the block. It looked like the same car he'd seen a few minutes ago on May Avenue, right before Katie had turned into her neigborhood. Which could mean that they lived nearby. Or that someone was tailing her.
                  The little pinch in his gut told Rick it was the latter, but he'd check again for the car before he left to speak to Harrington's parents. He turned his attention to her home as she opened the front door and stepped inside.
                  He put a finger to his lips, then walked in, motioning for her to stay in the entry hall as he activated his bug detector. The late-model CPM-7307 had been modified by a buddy to also pick up the presence of hidden cameras. In addition to locating commonly used transmitters, the tool allowed Rick to test AC outlets and phone lines. The small metal box, no wider than his wallet, included an output so he could listen for any phone modifications such as resistors or infinity bugs, anything placed on the wire itself.
                  Katie shook her head, wearing the same expression of amazement and disbelief she'd worn when he performed a search at her brother-in-law's apartment.
                  Rick bit back a grin. Making a quick sweep, he moved through the living room, peripherally aware of the honey-colored walls and ivory woodwork, the bold punctuation of color around the room. One wall of