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on a balanced front. For his daughter’s sake, if nothing else. This morning’s phone call from his ex-wife had just cemented that.

Like Emery had told him when she’d disconnected from the call with her mother, at least Jac had promised to be there.

Jac would be there. Emery had just known it. Because Jac had promised.

Max had been sweating, worrying the weather would keep Jac from delivering on that promise.

As he watched, Emery and a few of her friends ran up to Jac. Emery hugged her quickly, beaming. His daughter adored Jac.

And it was mutual. He’d been an idiot to jeopardize that because his hormones rose up and shocked him at how strong they had been. Hell, if he hadn’t run from her, maybe he would already have her right where he wanted her.

Maybe she wouldn’t be going home after the party, then. Max had plenty of regrets for how he had handled things.

“Pretty lady,” a male voice said behind him. “Your sister? I believe I heard she was Emery’s aunt from Olivia.”

“No, Jac and I aren’t related. She’s a colleague and friend. We just happen to have the same last name.” Paul Sturvin had accompanied his wife and two daughters to the party. This was only the second time Max had met the man. He had met Rachel several times before and found her quiet and kind.

Jac knew her better. Jac had filled in as room parent for him at Brynlock many times when cases had sent him and the rest of the team out of state and Jac had remained behind to work the computer-tech side of things. She’d bailed him out more times than he could count.

Just how much help she’d been in raising Emery over the last three or four years finally wasn’t lost on him. At all. He couldn’t have done it without her. And he could not repay her for what she had helped him do. Ever.

“My mistake. My daughter had mentioned Emery’s aunt, and I just assumed...”

“Easy mistake.” And one he understood. It was the red in their hair. Jac had told him that hers was identical to her mother’s. Hers was a richer brownish red than his daughter’s strawberry blond, but from a distance, it was easy to assume there was a biological tie between the two. Especially when one watched them together.

Jac was so easy with Emery, relaxed. Natural.

Then again, she looked relaxed with all of the kids surrounding her. Children had a way of getting Jac to open up quickly. He’d noticed that before.

Probably because they weren’t threats.

“Emery and Jac are very close. She’s been a great friend to both of us the years we’ve known her. We were team partners for several years.”

“She’s with the bureau?” Sturvin asked, almost incredulously. “She doesn’t look the type.”

From what he recalled, Sturvin was a consultant with the FBI located in St. Louis. Something to do with the IT divisions, of both PAVAD and the regular field office. But he didn’t think their paths had crossed often.

Max was almost certain he’d seen Sturvin in the building recently. Maybe. Paul Sturvin was the type to blend in.

“Jac and I are both with PAVAD.”

Sturvin let out a whistle between his teeth. “Nice.”

PAVAD’s Complex Crimes Unit did have a reputation that was growing within the law enforcement industry. “We’ve been with PAVAD since the beginning. Before.”

“She’s an agent?”

“Yes. Joint specialties. She is one of the best.” Looks could be deceiving; Jac looked like she should be sitting on the board of fifteen different charities, using her wealthy family’s money for good, in between manicures and dinner parties. She had that understated sheen of sophistication that a wealthy background gave some women.

She’d grown up in just that environment. Like Pamela had. They both came from very affluent backgrounds. With abuse in their history. It was a coincidence he had contemplated before.

Pamela had gone toward corporate law and her money-making ambitions; Jac had chosen law school after getting her undergraduate degree in computer science as well.

The bureau had recruited Jac straight out of law school, weeks before she’d even passed the bar.

She didn’t look like a federal agent at all.

She looked like a wealthy soccer mom. Especially with a little girl of around four held on her hip while she talked with the blond woman next to her.

Paul Sturvin’s wife, Max thought. The young girl Jac held was his daughter. No wonder Jac had captured his attention.

“Proves point that you can’t judge someone by how they appear,” Paul said. “Thank you for inviting us. Olivia has been struggling to make connections with the other children, since we moved her up a grade midsemester.”

Max just nodded. He suspected he knew why the man had latched on to him. There weren’t a great number of men in attendance—no surprise, considering it was a little girl’s birthday party. “We’re glad she could make it. Emery is very fond of her.”

He listened to Paul drone on, his attention more on the women chatting and laughing than on the man next to him.

Jac liked Rachel a great deal. It was in how she was laughing. How relaxed she was. She reached out and wiped the little girl’s face with a paper towel. Natural. He smiled.

He liked seeing Jac like that. Most of all, he loved seeing Jac happy again. She looked over at him. Their eyes met.

Max made himself a vow. He wasn’t letting her leave without telling her exactly how he felt. He’d waited long enough.

26

Jaclyn. Paul stood back as the party guests delved into the traditional cake and punch and ice cream. And presents. He did his best to hide his excitement.

She was a mark; he wasn’t supposed to be fascinated by her. It just didn’t work that way. His one and only job right now was to find out all the dirt on her that he possibly could.

Pure coincidence she was there in front of him now.

The woman, Jaclyn, was at the forefront of the party. It was obvious Dr. Jones’s daughter was close to Jaclyn.

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