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she’d quit what appeared to have been a promising career with the FBI. Why had she decided to write murder mysteries? What prompted her to leave Washington to move to the West Coast? Since she leased this beach house temporarily, where did she call home?
    Michael would make it his mission to learn everything there was to know about Rowan Smith. For professional reasons, of course, he told himself.
    After a final security check, making sure Rowan was down for the night, and settling in one of the guest rooms, he called Tess at her apartment.
    “Find anything?” He’d asked her to run a background check on Rowan Smith.
    “Not much.” She filled him in on the little she had learned. Rowan had resigned from the FBI four years ago. She owned a townhouse in Washington, but had lived outside Denver, Colorado, for the past three years.
    Tess was right. Not much.
    He lay down on the bed, one arm behind his head. “What’s your take on her?”
    “The jury’s still out, Mickey. That power play with the gun this afternoon bothered me. I’m not used to having a gun pointed at my brother. I mean, when you were a cop I expected it, but didn’t like it. Now—do we really need to take this job?”
    That incident had disturbed him, too. “I think she’s scared. Exceptionally private. She’s used to depending on herself and no one else.” He sighed, rubbed his eyes, and stifled a yawn. “The job’s relatively safe. Keep her secure. Here at the house or the studio. It’s not like we’ll be traveling all over the city making her a target.”
    “I suppose you’re right.” She didn’t sound convinced. “I think she’s lonely.”
    He considered that. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
    “Mickey, don’t get involved.”
    “I’m not. What makes you say that?”
    He heard the shrug in her voice. “I know you. I know how you are with women. First Carla. Then Jessica. Rowan Smith doesn’t need a knight in shining armor to rescue her.”
    “Don’t practice your amateur psychology on me, Teresa,” he warned. “I know perfectly well how to do my job. I’m not going to let a little physical attraction interfere with protecting her life.” Shit, he hadn’t meant to let on that he found Rowan sexy. Hell, who wouldn’t? He could keep it under control.
    She sighed, signaling she wasn’t going to argue with him now, but the conversation wasn’t over in her mind. “I’m going to dig deeper. I put out some calls this afternoon; it might take a day or two to get feedback.”
    “Don’t break any laws.”
    “Who, me?” Tess laughed and hung up.
    As he drifted off to sleep, he thought about Rowan Smith. She was a complex and beautiful woman, and he sensed she had a troubled past. He hoped to earn her trust so she’d share with him. At the minimum, he’d settle for what Tess could dig up.
    And contrary to what his sister thought, he knew Rowan wasn’t Jessica. They were nothing alike.
     
     
    Tess paced half the night, wondering what she should do with the information she’d just uncovered.
    Though she respected Michael’s abilities, she remembered too well the times her brother had gotten emotionally involved with troubled women. Rowan’s very real need of protection would attract her brother like nothing else could.
    Tess had many questions about Rowan’s sketchy background. Like why she quit the FBI. She wanted to know more about her cases. Rowan would be getting copies of her case files that Tess would like to go through as well. Rowan had been open about her career, but as soon as Michael’s questions turned personal, she gave short, clipped answers. There was something there, but Tess couldn’t figure out what. An ex-husband? She hadn’t found any marriage records, but that meant squat. Ex-boyfriend? A possibility.
    She hoped Michael would forgive her for calling their brother John, but she needed an unbiased opinion. Michael was a good cop, good bodyguard, but he sometimes let personal feelings cloud