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twirled across the stage on her tiptoes, was the image of her mother. Dark, copper hair fell in shimmering waves to her waist. Her pretty face reflected the same strength of will, the same enthusiasm for life, as her mom’s.

    And there was no mistaking the costume with its extra ruffles, excess glitter, and the jeweled crown perched on her head. Christy was, indeed, the personification of a Snow Fairy Queen.

    A second later, Savannah spotted Lisa Mallock, sitting a few rows behind her and to the left, wearing an infinitely proud smile on her tension-tight face. At that moment, Savannah envied her... despite whatever personal problems she might have. Savannah would have given anything to have felt that kind of pride, even for a moment, to take that little girl home with her and spend the evening baking chocolate chip cookies and maybe watching Beauty and the Beast on home video.

    She had intended to approach Lisa Mallock here, after the show in the parking lot, to attempt to give her the information about her brother and his search for her.

    But she couldn’t bring herself to interfere with this event, which obviously meant so much to both mother and daughter. If Lisa Mallock had been living under even half the stress that Savannah supposed, she would need this fanciful interlude to enjoy some of the precious aspects of life.

    No problem. Savannah had tailed more than one person from place to place. She would follow them home, and then, only then, would she intrude on their lives. If worse came to worst, she’d just get another door slammed in her face, right?

    Wrong. It was worse. Much worse.

    That evening, when Savannah knocked on the door of the modest duplex, it opened promptly, and she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun.

    The face at the other end of the pistol had the same basic features, but bore little resemblance to the proud mommy at the dance recital.

    “I wondered how long it would take someone to show up here,” Lisa Mallock said, sighting down the barrel. “Get away from my door and leave me alone.”

    Savannah had a long-standing policy: If they’re pointing a gun at you, do whatever they say...within reason.

    She had been at gunpoint before, but each time, she had previously anticipated the problem and had been somewhat emotionally prepared. When you went barging into a major cocaine dealer’s house with a dozen ATF officers, you expected trouble.

    She hadn’t seen this one coming.

    The thought deeply disturbed her. Mistakes like that could leave her dead.

    She was getting old and sloppy...at least, complacent. Not a comforting realization.

    If she were smart, Savannah knew that she would turn on her heel and march away from the door, tell Brian O’Donnell where his sister lived, wish him luck-he would need it-and collect her money.

    But she didn’t work that way.

    Why? Because she was a compassionate, caring person.

    Or maybe just stupid. Time would tell.

    “Lisa,” she said in what she hoped was her most cajoling, soothing tone. “I’m not here to cause you trouble of any kind, really. I just-”

    “I know why you’re here. He hired you, just like he hired all the other ones.”

    “He? He who?”

    “Earl, my ex-husband. He wants to kill me and kidnap my daughter. He’s certainly threatened to often enough.” Anger blazed in her eyes, but beneath the fury, Savannah saw the fear, the pain. Lisa shook her head and for a moment, Savannah thought she might start to cry. “I don’t understand,” the woman said. “How can you people help someone like that?”

    Savannah’s heart went out to the woman, in spite of the weapon pointed at her. In Lisa Mallock’s shoes, stalked by a vengeful ex, with a child to protect, she might do the same thing.

    No “might.” She would.

    “I’m not working for Earl,” Savannah told her. “I’ve never met him, I swear. The man who hired me is Brian O’Donnell, your natural brother. He wants very badly to get in