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offered, but she wasn’t sure the money was enough to convince her to admit just how stupid she’d been and how completely she’d been betrayed by the person she’d loved above all others.
    The
Miami Herald
sat on the table in front of Joe. He tilted it toward her so that she could see the page he’d been looking at. It held a large photo of Kyra Singer and her mother, Maddie; Dustin Deranian; and Avery Lawford on the front stoop of what was identified as Chase Hardin’s house. Dustin’s face was visible over his mother’s shoulder. The photographer had gotten a clean shot of Avery Lawford in a skimpy T-shirt that strained against her breasts and cutoff shorts that revealed just how curvy even a short pair of legs could be. A leather tool belt was slung low across her hips.
    Nicole pulled the paper closer to get a better look. “Oh, God. Deirdre is bound to be giving Avery fits about being caught dressed like that. And Avery will dig in her heels but she’ll be just as horrified.” Nicole rarely ventured out without full makeup, her version of armor. But refinishing floors and sweating your ass off during a renovation in the tropics didn’t exactly keep a girl ready for her close-up.
    “It’s about time everyone got used to the fact that anyone standing near Kyra and her son is fair game,” Joe said.
    They sipped their coffee in silence. The man sweated the truth out of criminals for a living. She had no doubt that he was reading her every thought far better than she could.
    “Any word on what kind of house or ‘high-profile individual’ you’ll be dealing with?” he asked.
    “No.” She set the paper aside. She needed to get dressed and pack up the car. She sat where she was. “Just that we need to be in the Upper Keys by four and we’ll be contacted then. There’s no telling where we’ll actually end up. Or how high a profile the homeowner has.”
    “I could probably help narrow things down. You know, run a list of potentials for you.”
    She imagined he had already done this but had learned not to offer anything that wasn’t asked for. This was the good news/bad news part of dating an FBI agent. They could find out anything, but they were damned hard to lie to.
    “Thanks. But I wouldn’t want to deprive the network of the ‘money shots’ of our surprise. After all, that’s why they pay us the big bucks.” Her smile was tight. Lord knew, they were underpaid for the amount of embarrassment that went along with starring in what had been turned into a reality show against their will. But none of them could afford to walk away from it. In fact, they needed to do everything they could to make sure the show was picked up for another season.
    “I’ll get down when I can.” Joe leaned over and kissed her. “And I hope you’ll come up whenever you need a break.”
    “Thanks.” They stood and carried their coffee cups and the carafe inside. She walked him to the door, where he picked up his carry-on and turned to kiss her good-bye.
    “I’ll see you soon.” Joe watched her face, but she had no idea what he was looking for or whether he found it.
    Nicole took her time packing, dawdled over lunch, then loaded everything into the Jag, which was pretty much all she had left of her former life.
    Later, as she backed out of Giraldi’s driveway and headed toward the highway, she tried not to think about all the things that had been left unsaid.
    In her experience it was better to say too little than to say too much. And definitely better to say nothing than to say the wrong thing.

Chapter Three

    They practically tiptoed out of Tampa early the next morning before the paparazzi came back. Dustin, who’d woken way too often during the night, was still half asleep when Kyra buckled him into his car seat, and Kyra wished she were, too. Maddie climbed into the driver’s seat clutching a travel mug of coffee, took a sip, and started up the minivan. “And we’re off!” she said far too happily as