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buried. But the minute Lynch walked into her home, those long ago secrets resurfaced and threatened to wreak havoc on her sanity again.
    “Are we going to open presents?” Casey's question forced her friends to look away from the only man in the room.
    “Yeah, I guess we should,” Chelsea, her closest friend said, her gaze still focused firmly on Zack, who seemed to be staring back with a measure of interest.
    Casey could hardly blame him. Chelsea Reese was a stunning redhead, with a body that hours of teaching Zumba classes had toned to perfection. Her eyes were the color of an Irish shamrock, inherited from her mother's birthright.
    Casey and Chels had been friends since grade school, and she loved her like a sister. So, she thought it best for her not to make a play for Lynch's friend since both men lived in Virginia. Too far away to try and start anything romantic.
    Best she remember that, as well.
    “Chelsea, why don't you hand Megan a gift to open? We're going to have to get going soon, and I'd like to see what everyone got for the baby.”
    “Okay, sure.” Her friend handed a striped, pink and mint colored wrapped box to the pregnant woman.
    Megan took the present and ripped the paper off. Inside was a tiny floral design dress. Everyone oohed and aahed the next half hour until the gifts were unwrapped. All but Zack who leaned against a wall, arms folded across his chest, looking as bored as a teenager at a church function.
    She'd made him sit through enough.
    Casey rose from her seat next to the mom-to-be. “We have to go. I'll call you in a few days.”
    Chelsea met them at the front door. “Can I treat you two to a drink somewhere?”
    “No!” Casey could've kicked herself for sounding so abrupt. But she couldn't have her friend finding out about Brent's abduction. “Sorry, Chels, but it's not a good time. Maybe we could get together for lunch tomorrow.”
    “All right.”
    Casey knew her friend wasn't pacified by the invitation. Not when her narrowed eyes emitted a ring of burning fire. Another thing she'd inherited from her mother—her Irish-Catholic temper.
    She ushered Zack from the house. The two needed to get home to make sure they didn't miss the kidnappers’ call. Not to mention finding out if Lynch had learned anything at Brent's office.
    On her way to the car, her cell phone rang. She reached inside her purse, took the phone out and clicked answer.
    “Casey,” Lynch said, his voice low.
    “Is something wrong?” She glanced at Zack, who was now glued to her.
    “I wanted to find out if you two were still at the party.”
    She turned away from Zack. “We just left. Why? Did you find out anything?”
    “I have some papers I want you to look at.”
    “Okay. We'll be back at the house in twenty minutes.”
    “Great. I'll meet you there.”
    Casey ended the call. There was something odd in Lynch's tone. Like he was keeping something from her. But then, he'd hidden the fact that he never loved her the whole time they were together and she hadn't realized it until he was gone. He'd left her to deal with the aftermath of their relationship. She should hate him for that, but she couldn't, even though he'd caused a hole in her heart so big that nothing or no one could fill it—not even Lynch himself.
     
    *
     
    “Can you tell me what these transactions were for?” Lynch asked, watching Casey's reaction as she glanced over the papers he'd given her.
    She looked up from the log, her face draining of color. “I have no idea. This account is one we rarely use. We thought it best to have two separate accounts just in case someone was able to access out the main one. That way all our money wouldn't be tied up.”
    “So, you have no idea what these wire transfers are?”
    “No. I don't.”
    “If the bank was open, we could go down and see if we could find out where they came from and where they went.” Maybe that was actually why Brent chose the weekend to orchestrate this elaborate ruse. Lynch