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to her lap. “That’s none of my business.”
    Jake’s face hardened and he turned the volume of the TV down. “My wife is dead,” he said quietly. He met her gaze. “She and my brother’s wife died in a car accident four years ago.”
    For a moment, his eyes filled with shadows and she wanted to comfort him. It reminded her that she wasn’t the only one with troubles and sorrows, and maybe it was time she stopped feeling sorry for herself. She reached up and touched the heart pendant at her chest. She knew what loss was and her heart ached for him and his son. Tears filled her eyes and she tried unsuccessfully to blink them away as one fell to her face. “I’m sorry.”
    His gaze tracked the single tear as it rolled down her cheek, dripping off her chin and onto the blanket covering her. Tension filled the room as he stood and cupped the side of her face, brushing the dampness away with his thumb.
    “Tears for me.” It was a statement, not a question.
    She squeezed the pendant between her finger and thumb. “It must be the effects of the accident and the drugs they gave me. I’m just tired.” Her voice was shaky. Their eyes met and she was unable to drag hers from his darkened gaze as her heart pounded a powerful beat.
    A knock at the door caused his hand to fall away as a burly man strode in with a paper bag in his hand.
    “Someone here order burgers?”

CHAPTER 3
    Michael Hirschman spoke quietly into his cell phone as he sat at the patio overlooking his large backyard, bordered by a tall privacy fence. He watched his children play a game of volleyball in their elaborate in-ground pool. His grip on the phone tightened at the utter incompetence of the caller. The hit on Angela had failed.
    “Daddy, look at me,” floated across the air as his youngest daughter stood at the diving board ready to jump into the clear, inviting water. Michael smiled, waving as she took three tentative steps, grabbed her nose, and leaped off the end of the board to make a minor splash, before she bobbed to the surface with squeals of delight.
    He needed Angela dealt with, and quickly. The trial was scheduled for next week and he needed the threat eliminated before then.
    “That’s the way, Sandra,” he called encouragingly, before turning his attention back to the call. “Look, dammit, I want her silenced. So do it. And don’t fuckin’ miss next time.” He angrily tossed the cell on the table.
    Michael’s eyes narrowed when he thought about Scott’s murder. It had put a serious kink in his Milwaukee operation, and he was still dealing with the fallout.
    Beebe had been a key player. Without him, he’d been forced to spend an entire year reestablishing a pipeline to move product into Wisconsin.
    Scott suspected Slater of skimming from the drugs stored on his property prior to distribution. Michael had been at Scott’s home discussing the missing inventory when Angela came into the room. He cursed. She could ID him.
    She needed to be dealt with soon or he’d be forced to kill Slater to put an end to the trial. It would be far more difficult to get to Slater in jail . . . but not impossible. A risk he would be willing to take.
    With Slater dead, there’d be no trial, and therefore, no need for police protection. They’d be able to silence her. Angela was the real threat. Because if she somehow connected him to her husband, he was screwed.
    Michael returned his attention to his children. The only thing that mattered now was stopping the threat to his safe, secure lifestyle. Angela Beebe needed to die.
    Jake stood to help Angela to her feet so she could use the restroom before bed. She waved him off when he tried to walk her over to the door again.
    “I’m perfectly capable of getting there on my own.” She shot Rick a smile.
    Jake watched with keen interest at the way her hips swayed seductively under the hospital gown as she made her way over, clutching the back shut with one hand. He was unable to tear his eyes away