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failed marriages and winced. He’d chosen badly. Maureen had nothing in common with him and she hadn’t loved him. She’d loved what he could give her materially. Theirs had been an obsessive physical relationship that burned out a year down the road. He’d been determined to hold on, but in the end, he had to let her go. Admitting failure had cut up his pride. Maureen had been an obsession, but he’d learned that obsessive desire was no substitute for love. Sarina had loved him with all her heart, and he’d pushed her away brutally. Perhaps, he thought philosophically, he deserved the misery he’d endured. Certainly it had paid him back for the hurt he’d caused Sarina.
    He finished his supper, had a shower, and went to bed early. In his youth, he could go night and day. Now, with his war wounds hurting like hell in the darkness, he had to take advantage of any drowsiness he was lucky enough to get. None of his comrades would recognize this worn-out soldier who made his living by protecting an oil company from thieves and drug smugglers. He felt far older than his years. Perhaps he should be grateful that he was still alive. Many of his friends no longer were.
    Â 
    J UST BEFORE LUNCH , Colby was walking by Sarina’s office when he saw her in earnest conversation with the Hispanic man, Rodrigo Ramirez. Funny, they were obviously close but they didn’t act like lovers. There was nothing like physical attraction in her regard, and her body language was interesting—she folded her arms tight around her chest and her expression was completely businesslike. If she was involved with the man, she was good at keeping things discreet.
    Rodrigo was a puzzle as well. Colby had asked Hunter about him, only to be told that the man, a Mexican national, worked as a liaison between Eugene and an equipment company owned by Eugene’s son, Cabe Ritter. It seemed a thin sort of connection, and an odd sort of job. For some reason, he didn’t see Rodrigo at a desk job. He had the strangest feeling that he’d run across the man somewhere.
    Sarina passed a file to Rodrigo and stood up. “That’s all I’ve got so far,” she said, her voice carrying in the deserted offices—it was lunchtime and most everyone else was already gone.
    â€œI have more. I’ll put it on a CD for you,” Rodrigo replied in softly accented deep tones. “On a more personal note, you need to consider a move. Bernadette’s too conspicuous a target.”
    â€œI can take care of Bernadette,” she replied quietly. “I can’t move. You know why.”
    â€œI could help you,” he began.
    She held up a hand. “Bernadette and I will manage. It’s better now, anyway.”
    â€œWhy can’t I ever convince you to do the safe thing?” the Latin asked, his accent growing more prominent.
    â€œSafe is for old women,” she replied with a laugh. “Besides, this job is more important than any we’ve ever done.”
    â€œThat it is,” he had to agree. “I just don’t like having you take point on the firing line.”
    â€œYou never do, but it’s my choice.”
    â€œYou and your independence—” He broke off when he noticed Colby Lane approaching the door. He stood up and lifted an eyebrow. “Can I do something for you, Mr. Lane?” he asked formally, his deep voice faintly accented.
    Colby glanced at Sarina. “I had a question for Miss Carrington,” he replied. “Nothing urgent. It can wait.”
    â€œI have to go,” Rodrigo replied, noting the time. “I’ll call you,” he told her.
    She nodded.
    When he left, she looked at Colby icily. “Yes?”
    â€œWhat did he mean, about your daughter being at risk?” he asked.
    Both thin eyebrows went up. “Is my daughter’s welfare your business, Mr. Lane?”
    â€œDrop the formal line,” he said coldly. “We