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that underscored the reputation he already had as one of the country’s top litigators. Not only that, but cases that had made him quite wealthy, too.
    I wondered if that could have something to do with what happened at Kate’s bank. It seemed more likely that it was just a hit on the bank. However, I wasn’t quite convinced that was what it was. Why would a bank robber hit the bank after hours, after everyone was gone and there were no employees to open the vault? After all, the cash drawers would have been emptied when the bank closed, so the vault would have been their only option. So why attack then? Why not wait until morning, to wait for those moments when the employees were setting up for the day and the vault was open? Why not wait until it would be a much simpler attack, a snatch and grab?
    Could it be that one of Daniel’s former clients, maybe someone he hadn’t been able to get off, had gone after Kate in retribution?
    I glanced at her, wondering what it was she might have unwittingly gotten herself into. And then I shook my head, shaking away that line of thought. It wasn’t my job to find out the who or the why. It was my job to make sure she made it through this unhurt.
    We pulled into the driveway of a modest brick house on the outer edge of Santa Monica. It had a small yard, a few rose bushes growing low under the front windows. And there was a one-car garage that Ash had left the remote to in the SUV’s cup holder.
    “Where did you…?”
    I pulled the SUV carefully into the garage and reached to grab her arm to keep her in her seat until the door closed completely behind us.
    “I’d rather you not make a target of yourself.”
    She jerked her arm away. “You don’t have to manhandle me. You could have simply asked me to wait.”
    “Would you have listened?”
    She didn’t answer, but the look she shot me was all the answer I needed.
    She climbed out and marched toward the door that led into the house. I followed closely behind, checking my phone to make sure an alert hadn’t come in from David’s program. Before David’s program, I would have swept the house before I allowed the client to walk in, but the program made that unnecessary. If anyone had gotten into the house between the time Carson’s team left and we arrived, I would know it because the program would have known it.
    The garage door opened into the kitchen. It was a galley-style kitchen with counters on either side. Kate didn’t pause as she made her way through, turning the corner at the archway into a large, welcoming living room. There was an overstuffed couch and a comfortable looking recliner situated in front of a plasma television on the wall. There were no adornments, no pictures on the walls, no flowers in fancy vases, none of the personal touches that I would have expected of Kate. There was no clutter at all, just the furniture, like a showroom in a retail store.
    Kate continued through the room and up a narrow hall. I should have stayed in the living room, but I followed.
    “That’s your room,” she said, gesturing to the first door on my right. “And the bathroom, obviously,” she said as she pointed to a door further up the hall on the left. Then she pushed through the door at the end of the hall, sighing as she went to the king-sized bed and threw herself onto it.
    I stood in the doorway, taking in the heavy furniture, another television on the wall, and the tall windows that were darkened by black drapes. Again there were no adornments in this room. A couple of books on the bedside table. A few clothes scattered over the back of a very uncomfortable looking chair in the corner. The only personal touch seemed to be the generic treadmill in the corner.
    But then there was one picture in this room. On the bedside table, nearly hidden by the books. It was a photograph I immediately recognized because I was the one who took it. It was a picture of her and Joshua with their arms around each other that I took a