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are now divorced.”
    She nodded. “No one stays together anymore.”
    “Would it be all right if I waited for Brent in his office?” Lynch focused his attention on the woman's peach-tinted mouth. A diversion from her thinking clearly was the goal.
    Her gaze locked on to his lips, which he ran his tongue over to seal the deal.
    “Of course. I'll show you to his office,” she said with a slight hitch in her voice. The gesture made him smile inwardly. Clearly she was struggling to retain her composure.
    Good . He needed to keep her thinking he was interested. That way she wouldn't question her decision and come to check on him.
    At the end of the hall, she turned to face him. “Can I get you something while you wait? I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
    “No, but I appreciate you asking.”
    She smiled, then turned and headed back the way they'd come.
    Lynch entered the office and glanced around, frowning at the sparseness of the room. On the way down the hall he'd noticed a few of the other offices and they looked nothing like Brent's.
    He shrugged off the thought and closed the door. He walked to Brent's desk. No picture of Casey anywhere. Then again, the man was getting a divorce—maybe he'd removed them all.
    He pulled open the top desk drawer and found the basic pens, paper clips and such. He closed it and moved to the side drawer that was stuffed with files. One titled personal stuck out, and he pulled the cream-colored folder from the bunch. Inside were bank deposits for large sums of money, all coming from the same wire transfer number.
    Why was he getting a bad feeling here?
    Lynch leafed through more of the papers and found that same money going out to another account.
    Something didn't feel right about these transactions. The account was Brent and Casey's.
    He quickly folded the papers and stuck them into his pocket. He'd show them to her. Maybe she could tell him what they were for. He closed the drawer and moved on to the next. It was locked. Why would his step-brother need to secure a drawer in his office?
    Lynch wasn't going to wait to find out. He dug into his pocket and extracted the small kit he always carried with him. He pulled a small metal pick out and worked the lock until it clicked. Then he yanked the drawer open and found a brown manila envelope with an elastic string wrapped around the outside. He released the strap and opened the flap. Inside were folded papers. Lynch extracted them and quickly scanned the documents. They were life insurance policies on Casey, adding up to a half a million dollars, with a double indemnity clause.
    A neon sign of betrayal flashed before him.
    Lynch went through the rest of the papers. No life insurance policy on Brent.
    Why?
    What the hell was going on here?
    A gut-sick feeling worked its way up Lynch's throat, tightening his trachea off. The kidnapping. The money in the safe. The break in .
    No. He had to be wrong. It was his distaste for Brent making him think the worst.
    But what if he was right?
    That Brent staged this kidnapping to get his hands on some money? Using Casey to do so?
    But why? Using such tactics?
    That was what Lynch intended to find out before he told anybody anything—especially Casey.

 
     
    CHAPTER SIX
     
     
    Casey glanced over at Zack, who held the attention of every woman in the room—all eleven of them. She'd expected her friends to be put off by her bringing him to the party, but he'd turned out to be the entertainment for the afternoon—or at least what they seemed to want to look at.
    She turned to Megan, the momma-to-be sitting in a white wicker chair, rubbing at her expanded belly as she stared at Zack as if he were the answer to a late-night craving. Casey could just imagine if Lynch had come. They'd have had him backed into a corner, hoping to have their own baby shower eight months from now.
    The thought sent a cold sweat surging over her body. Just being here today brought back events in her life she had hoped she'd