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hand.
    So was she. She had a lifetime of regrets she couldn’t fix. Trevor was dead, and Jack couldn’t be trusted, least of all with her heart. The only way out of the situation was to finish what she’d started. No matter how badly it ended for either one of them.
    The door shut behind Jack leavingher alone with her thoughts. Angie locked the door and leaned her forehead against it. Was her heart always going to skip a beat anytime Jack was near? Once her pulse returned to a normal rate, she reached for the telephone and slumped down onto the couch.
    “Well?” the male voice greeted her.
    Geez, the guy was impatient. “Jack just left.”
    “You were supposed to call me last night after he met you at the club.”
    Angie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the headache that was building. The man might have been Trevor’s best friend growing up, but she found the man insufferable at times. She got the feeling that he’d much prefer if he were the one doing all the legwork on their investigation. Typical male.
    Resisting the urge to snap at him, she responded, “A girl’s gotta work for a living, you know. By the time the club closed, I crashed. I guess calling you must have slipped my mind.”
    If it weren’t for their mutual interest in seeing Trevor’s true killer brought to justice, she wouldn’t even be bothering with the man.
    “How’d he react when you mentioned Trevor’s name?”
    She closed her eyes and tried to recall Jack’s face in that moment. The man could be sweating bullets inside, but outside, he was as cool as ice. It was what made Jack a great liar. And a lousy boyfriend. She’d do well to remember that while Jack portrayed the attentive lover to the world, his eyes were always on the prowl, searching for his next conquest. “Not even a flicker of recognition, but then again Jack’s always had one hell of a poker face.” She felt the slow burn of anger fill her veins. “He’d have to have been living under a rock for the past two years to not know the name Trevor Santino. Trev’s face was splashed all over the local newspapers while he was alive, and his death made state headlines. No way Jack didn’t know who he was. I’m not buying it.”
    There was a pause on the other end of the line while the man digested her minor outburst. When he did speak again, his voice had taken on a patronizing tone. “Look. I know you want to believe this Jack guy killed Trevor, but is it even remotely possible that you’re trying to turn this guy into a scapegoat because he wronged you in the past?”
    “No,” she spat back emphatically. “I know I’m right.”
    “I agreed to help you on the off chance you were right, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to throw away my whole career to accuse an innocent man. I’ll hold up my end of the bargain, but if we can’t find any proof of his guilt, either through the tracking device in the ledger or through the voice recorder, then I’m sorry but I’m out.”
    Her gut told her she was right. Jack killed Trevor. It was up to her to prove it.
    After his last case went south, Jack swore he’d never take on another job, especially one that involved hunting a known killer. But then again, he’d never been good at turning down a case. With Angie for a client, it was a double whammy. Any common sense he’d once had, had flown the coop when Angie graced his doorway.
    Between his daddy’s tales of grand escapades as a detective tracking down notorious mafia kingpins, and his own time spent on the force, Jack knew a thing or two about tracking a suspect. All it took was a solid lead and a bit of good old-fashioned detective work. If Angie’s intuition was right, he’d need proof.
    And access to Trevor’s case file.
    Maybe the guys working the case missed something, not that he wanted to disparage his fellow boys in blue, but it happened. Just not on his watch, regardless of what his former commanding officer wanted to