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in.” She got into the car and waited until the door shut before letting out thelong, painful breath she’d been holding.
    Wherever that spurt of lust inside her had come from, it would just have to go away again. Cool off, she ordered herself, but her heart was bumping madly against her rib cage. Cool off and focus on the job.
    Jonah slid in beside her, annoyed that his pulse wasn’t quite steady. “Where to?” When she rattled off the address, he shoved the key into the ignition and aimed one hot look at her. “That’s a damn mile. Why the hell did you walk?”
    “Because it was rush hour. It’s quicker. And it’s ten blocks.”
    “That’s just stupid.”
    She had a response for that. The venom of it scalded her tongue as she rounded on him. She didn’t even recognize the vibration of her beeper for several seconds, mistaking it for the vibration of rage.
    She yanked it from her skirt, checked the number. “Damn it. Damn it.” From her purse she pulled out her cell phone and quickly dialed. “Detective Fletcher. Yeah, I got it. I’m on my way.”
    Calming herself, she shoved the phone back into her purse. “Since you’re determined to play cabdriver, let’s get going. I’ve got another B and E.”
    “Give me the address.”
    “Just take me home so I can get my car.”
    “Give me the address, Allison. Why waste time?”

Chapter 3
    Jonah dropped her off in front of an attractive, ranch-style home in an upscale development convenient to the freeway. In reasonable traffic, the commute to downtown would take under twenty minutes.
    The Chamberses, Ally discovered, were an attractive, upscale couple, both lawyers in their early thirties, childless professionals who spent their comfortable income on the good life.
    Wine, wardrobe, jewelry, art and music.
    “They got my diamond earrings and my Cartier Tank watch.” Maggie Chambers rubbed her eyes as she sat in what was left of her sprawling great room. “We haven’t gone through everything, but there were Dalí and Picasso lithographs on that wall there. And in that niche there was an Erté sculpture we bought at an auction two years ago. Joe collected cuff links. I don’t know how many pairs he had offhand, but he had diamond ones and ruby for his birthstone and several antique pairs.”
    “They’re insured.” Her husband reached out to take her hand, squeeze it.
    “It doesn’t matter. It’s not the same. Those thugs were in our house. In our house, Joe, and they’ve taken our things. Damn it, they stole my car. My brand-new BMW, and it didn’t have five thousand miles on it. I loved that stupid car.”
    “Mrs. Chambers, I know it’s hard.”
    Maggie Chambers whipped her gaze toward Ally. “Have you ever been robbed, Detective?”
    “No.” Ally set her notebook on her knee a moment. “But I’ve worked plenty of burglaries, robberies, muggings.”
    “It’s not the same.”
    “Maggie, she’s just doing her job.”
    “I know. I’m sorry. I know.” She covered her face with her hands, drew air in, slowly let it out. “I’ve got the shakes, that’s all. I don’t want to stay here tonight.”
    “We don’t have to. We’ll go to a hotel. How much more do you need, Detective … was it Fletcher?”
    “Yes. Just a few more questions. You said both of you were out all evening.”
    “Yeah, Maggie won a case today, and we decided to go out and celebrate. She’s been piled under for more than a month. We went to the Starfire club with some friends.” As he spoke, he rubbed soothing circles over his wife’s back. “Drinks, dinner, a little dancing. Like we told the other policeman, we didn’t get home until nearly two.”
    “Does anyone other than the two of you have a key?”
    “Our housekeeper.”
    “Would she also have the security code?”
    “Sure.” Joe started to speak, then blinked, stuttered. “Oh, listen, Carol’s been cleaning for us for nearly ten years. She’s practically family.”
    “It’s just procedure, Mr.