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praying that they weren’t chasing a decoy while Mackenzie went off and did something heinous like blow up Disneyland.
    That would be very bad indeed.
    He released a bitter sigh, contemplating his next move. He needed to get inside. She might be going in for Botox injections and a mineral bath, but she could also be planning an information drop. He needed to find out, and he needed to do it without Diana noticing him.
    He frowned, considering the problem. At the moment, he was idling two cars behind her Viper in the valet zone, watching the view as her well-defined leg slipped out of the tight bucket seat. The entire woman followed, her short skirt and summer sweater clinging like a wet T-shirt.
    She took the ticket from the valet, then bent back down to retrieve her purse from inside the car. The skirt pulled tight against her ass, and Brandon noticed the valet ogling her with appreciation. Brandon understood completely and even allowed himself a tiny smile. The woman might be boffing a terrorist, but she was still one hell of a looker.
    For her part, Diana didn’t notice the valet any more than she noticed the Cypress trees that lined the walk to the spa’s front door. To her, the uniformed employee was simply part of the scenery, there for her convenience, but certainly no one she needed to pay attention to.
    Pampered rich girls and their holier-than-thou ways rubbed Brandon the wrong way. But this time, her elitism had sparked a plan. And if everything went as he expected, her attitude just might be her downfall.

Three
    P asadena.
    Amber scowled at the tree-lined streets and perfectly manicured lawns to which Finn had led her. Swing sets and families and paper routes. Everyone going about their daily lives, never scratching beneath the surface. Amber had spent her childhood in a similar neighborhood, but she’d gotten her fingernails dirty. As a kid, she’d clawed down to the muck underneath, and it had sucked her in and never let her go.
    She might have started life in a Pasadena-like place, but she could never go back. Her mistakes and then her work had changed her. Normally, that didn’t bother her. Her life was her life. She loved it, and she didn’t believe in having regrets. But every once in a while that other life snuck up, like something in her peripheral vision.
    When James had stepped into her room at the tri-county juvenile detention center, he’d saved her life. Amber knew that. But still she wondered….
    If James hadn’t come along, would she have eventually saved herself? And if she had, would this have been her destiny? Gladiolas and neighbors and children playing kickball on the lawn?
    Her nose wrinkled in distaste, and the thought didn’t linger. She’d never been big on what-ifs.
    The motorcycle purred beneath her as she maneuvered the streets, keeping a decent distance from Finn in case he got curious about the black-clad biker who’d been on his tail all morning. But he seemed oblivious, which both heartened and pissed her off. In her line of work, agents who were oblivious tended to end up dead. Which meant Finn probably wasn’t an agent. Or, if he was, he was a downright bad one.
    At the end of the block, Finn turned into the driveway of a familiar house hosting a huge yard sale. Amber watched with a smile, realizing she’d correctly guessed his destination. Back when she’d first encountered Finn, he’d been searching for Albert Alcott with the help of a local P.I. who lived on this very street. As soon as Finn had turned away from the beach and headed up the freeway toward Pasadena, Amber had guessed that he was going to visit his buddy. Turned out she was right, and she gave herself a couple of Brownie points.
    She slowed to a stop, idling across the street from a lawn party, complete with a smoking grill and a piñata for the kids. A dozen pairs of eyes regarded her with curiosity, and Amber grimaced with sudden