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her arms in front of her chest. “It’s not easy to stop believing in someone you love. But if the man I married was in some way impersonating you or stealing from you, I need to know that.”
    “Then you and I have to work together,” he said. “I want you to tell me everything you know. I need every detail, no matter how unimportant you might think it is.”
    “That will take some time.”
    “So we’ll get started now. I don’t want to waste another second. The trail is already cold, and I can’t let it get any colder. I intend to get my life back as soon as possible.”
    She nodded. “You’d better come inside then, but I have to warn you I don’t know much. That’s become apparent to me in recent weeks.”
    “You know what he looked like. We can begin there. I want to get an image of this guy in my mind.”
    She started, realizing she could do better than describe TA K E N
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    him. “I have a picture.” She moved away from the door, grabbing her purse off a nearby table.
    He followed her into the entry, shutting the front door behind him.
    “We had a wedding photo taken,” she added as she dug into her purse. As she flipped through her pictures, she came to Nick’s smiling, laughing blue eyes, and felt an odd sense of relief that she could prove he actually existed, that he’d married her. It wasn’t a dream. He had been real. She slid the picture out of its plastic case and handed it to him.
    He gave it a hard look. “Damn.”
    “What’s wrong?” she asked.
    “I know this man.”
    Nick stared down at the photograph. Were his eyes playing tricks on him? Even though the face was older, there was no mistaking the sun-bleached blond hair, the shrewd eyes, and the knowing smile. He’d never thought he’d ever see him again, but here he was in Kodacolor.
    “What do you mean?” Kayla asked. “How do you know him?”
    He lifted his gaze to hers. “His name is Evan Chadwick. We went to college together.” A burning anger swept through his body, making his hands shake and his gut twist into a hard knot. He wanted to rip the photograph in two. He wanted to tear up the image of Evan’s face, but he couldn’t do that. This picture was proof, evidence he would need later when he found Evan.
    “You went to school together?” she repeated in surprise. “You’re friends with . . . with the man I married?”
    “Not friends, no — enemies.” His jaw was so tight he could barely get the words out.
    “Why? What happened?”

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    Barbara Freethy
    “A lot,” he said shortly. “I shared an apartment with Evan in my junior year at Cal. It took me six months to figure out who he really was.”
    “I don’t understand. What do you mean — who he was?” she asked in confusion.
    “Evan was a thief, a con artist. He scammed his way into college with fraudulent transcripts. Once there, he ran small games, big games, whatever would make him a buck, give him a thrill. I’m not sure what he liked more, the game or the payoff. Actually, that’s not true; I do know. Evan liked to make fools of people. He enjoyed playing them for suckers. It made him feel powerful, strong, bigger and better than he was.” Nick tasted bile on his tongue. Anger rolled through his body in forceful waves. He’d thought he’d closed the door on Evan Chadwick. He’d believed that he’d won the last round, but apparently the game wasn’t over. Evan had just been waiting for the right moment to strike back — twelve long years later.
    “That doesn’t sound like the man I married,” Kayla said, doubt in her voice.
    She wasn’t the first woman to defend Evan. His younger sister, Jenny, had once spoken very much the same words. She’d had the same confused look in her eyes then as Kayla did now.
    “Evan was very good at being whoever someone wanted him to be.” Nick deliberately kept his voice calm, even though inside he was seething. He had to make Kayla understand. He had to pull her over to his side, or they’d