“Yeah. You’re in the clear. Maybe you should just show them to Sheldon and let him deal with it.”

Avery shivered.

“You don’t like that idea,” Lori said as she peered closer. “Why?”

“I want to avoid any personal conversations with him. Asking him if he knew his dad was sleeping with someone else and possibly fathered a child is entirely too personal. What if Sheldon’s father treated him differently than he did this child, assuming it is his? Showing him these pictures might open a door that, while painful, at least has answers. What if he knew, or assumed? Not knowing and questioning yourself can haunt you. Trust me on that. Even though I don’t really like the guy, I don’t think this kind of secret should be kept.”

“Why don’t you like the guy?”

Avery gripped her glass. “He has a strange affect. Like he watches and studies people. Then there is the fact that he asked me out.”

“You refused.”

“Of course I refused. I’m seeing Liam. Even if I wasn’t, the guy just gives me a weird vibe.”

Lori lifted a hand in the air and started clicking off facts one finger at a time. “So the guy likes you, asked you out, you turned him down, and then you show him these pictures. That does exactly what for your business relationship?”

Avery cringed. “Makes it even more uncomfortable. It forces intimate conversations about his family that I really want nothing to do with.”

“Right.” Lori dropped her hand and pulled her wine back to her lips. “This is a rock and a hard place. You want my advice?”

“God, yes.”

“You don’t tell anyone about the pictures. Finish the job. Once you’re off the payroll, you can give them to him. These kinds of things can be embarrassing even if the affair is decades old. It isn’t up to you to investigate the rightful heirs to Mr. and Mrs. Lankford’s estate.”

There was some relief in that route. “So do nothing.”

“For now.”

Avery sighed. “Thanks, Lori. I knew you’d have the answers.”

“Not all of them. I work with divorce, not this.”

The two of them sipped their wine in silence for a few seconds.

“Are you going to tell me about this haunting thing?”

Avery snapped her head toward her. “What?”

“You said the not knowing haunts you.”

Avery needed more wine for this. “You know it’s almost been a year.” She crossed to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle, and moved back to the living room.

“You’re thinking about what happened in New York. I’m guessing that’s normal.”

She refilled her glass, set the bottle down. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I’ll go down on the mat in krav and freeze. I think I see his face, something. Then it’s gone.”

“We’ll circle back to the krav thing in a minute. Although that does explain a few things. Why haven’t you told any of us this?”

Avery looked over her glass. “You were getting married. Trina was engaged and on cloud gazillion . . . and Shannon has her own demons to chase.”

“So we only get to be there for you when things are good? That’s not how friendship works.”

“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t foster too many friends. I suck at relationships. All of them.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. As Wade pointed out, you’re the blonde pit bull. You’re fiercely protective with your friends but won’t allow us inside to be there for you.”

Lori was right, but Avery didn’t want to admit it. “You guys know me better than anyone.”

That seemed to satisfy Lori. “I know. Don’t be afraid of talking to us. It’s why we formed the club to begin with.”

“We formed the First Wives to deal with dating after divorce. Somehow that has turned into a murdered husband, assaults, spies, and all kinds of soap opera drama.”

Lori refilled her glass. “Krav. Seriously, you’ve been taking krav?”

Avery found her smile. “Yeah. That gym I said I met Liam in . . . krav studio.”

“Why the secret?”

“Didn’t want anyone to worry about me.”

Lori narrowed her eyes, lips flat.

“Okay. Got it. I’ll try.”

“You do that.”

Chapter Twenty-One

For the first time in six months, Avery’s haunts woke her in the middle of the night.

Cold sweat, racing heart. She shot straight up in bed, screaming. Her hands went to her face, and she expected them to fall away soaked in blood.

The vividness of the recurring dream was palpable. She could smell the stench of cigarettes and asphalt. And blood. Her blood. She tasted the salt in the back of her throat and gagged.

The clock by her bedside flashed 2:20 a.m. She swung her legs off the bed and padded into her bathroom. She switched on the glaring light and turned the water on hot. When she looked in the mirror, she briefly saw the image of her face the first time she was allowed to look at it after the attack. The bandages covered nearly everything, her eye swollen shut, the other just a slit. No wonder she needed to use reading glasses a decade sooner than normal age would have suggested.

She peered closer to the mirror. Almost forgetting what her nose had looked like before the surgery to correct the break and stop the bleeding. Nothing had been wrong with her other nose. This one was smaller. The scar underneath was a little bigger than most since the bastard that had kicked it in shredded it with his boot. Razor sharp tread, like they were new. Work boots. She closed her eyes to capture the image. Pants. Not jeans. Tan pants, frayed at the bottom. Dirty with her blood splattered on the leg.

The vision vanished.

She opened her eyes. Her pale image stared back at her, hands gripping the sink as the water flowed down and steam filled the mirror. “Holy shit.” She remembered something.

Avery ran to her kitchen and yanked open her junk drawer to find a pen. She found a notepad and frantically scratched down her thoughts and images. What she’d smelled. Anything.

When done, she stared at the piece of paper in front of her. She conjured up the face of the man the police said did the deed. “Why can’t I see you?”

He was already dead, killed by the man who hired him.

But Avery couldn’t see him.

She pulled a bottle of water from her refrigerator and her telephone rang.

She jumped, nearly dropping the bottle.

“Who the hell? Hello?”

“Avery?” It was Lori.

“Is everything okay?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“It’s two thirty in the morning, Lori.”

“I know. Alliance security called Reed. They heard a scream and then logged in on the cameras. Are you okay?”

“Jesus, I forgot about the cameras. I thought they’d been turned off.”

“Off, but not disconnected. Are you okay? You sound okay.”

“I had a bad dream. I’m fine. The phone ringing scared the crap out of me.”

“She says she’s fine,” Lori said, away from the phone.

“Hey, Lori?”

“Yeah?”

“What security company takes ten minutes to ask if I’m okay?”

Lori sighed. “You’re wearing a red T-shirt and standing in your kitchen. Reed said you were fine. But after tonight’s conversation—”

Avery looked across the room to where she knew the camera had been placed the year before. She stared right at it. “I’m fine. Now turn off the damn camera or I’m ripping it off the wall.”

“I can’t do that,” Lori said.

Avery turned her attention back to the phone. “I was talking to the guy watching the camera. I’m okay. Go back to bed.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night, Mother Hen.”

This was why she didn’t tell her friends what was going on in her head. The security guys would have heard her scream, clicked on the camera, seen she was fine, and then turned it all off. Over-the-top for a security system, but when the guy who hired the man to kill her last year was still alive, it had been necessary. Now, not so much.

Avery twisted until her gaze landed on the kitchen counter. The memory of Liam as he . . .

Oh, yeah. The cameras had to go.

Avery’s ass dragged the next day. She was 100 percent sure her emotional barometer was not ready to tackle the attic, but she was doing it anyway.

The Santa Ana winds were in full effect, with red flag warnings everywhere. The lack of rain and dry heat were a disaster waiting to happen. Days like this always made her happy she lived in a high-rise. Not much chance of a brush fire attacking her home.

The lack of cars in the driveway was a blessing. Her occasional helper wasn’t coming in today, and it didn’t look like Sheldon was there checking on the progress. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since he’d asked her out. Maybe it would stay that way. She had two more weeks on the job but was pushing to get out of the house in one. It would still take time to sell everything, between auctions and estate home garage-type sales. But her day in and day out would be over. Avery looked forward to it.

The air snapped when she walked into the house. Or maybe it was just the vibe coursing through her skin. Knowing the skeletons that were hiding in the Lankford closets wasn’t a comfortable feeling.