Chapter 1

      Trey Riker grilled a steak, tossed a salad and uncorked a bottle of wine. He ate outside, enjoying the quiet of the Vegas night. His place, twenty minutes from town in the foothills, was a continent removed from the blitz and glitz of the strip.

      He’d had a rare day off and spent it digging post holes for the fence that he’d hoped to put up six months ago. But one shouldn’t complain about business being good. He and his three other partners, Royce Morgan, Rico Metez and Seth Pike, had opened Wingman Security more than four years ago and hadn’t looked back since. A few crazies in a basically good world spooked people, and both personal and property security were high priorities for many.

      He tipped his wineglass up, drained it and considered a second. But the knowledge that he was due at the job at five the next morning had him pushing back from the table. He was never late, couldn’t understand others who were.

      He went inside and locked up behind himself. Put his plate and silverware in the stainless steel dishwasher that he ran every three days, usually just for the hell of it. He’d bought his house two years ago. The 2800-square-foot ranch was probably too big for a single guy, but he’d loved the location. Every night he could sit on his patio and see the sun set. Every morning he could look out his bedroom window and see the sun rise.

      He made sure the coffeepot was set up for morning and ten minutes later, he was in bed, lights off, listening to Bach’s Toccata in D Major when his cell rang. He reached for it, not recognizing the number. “Riker,” he answered.

      “I had a hankering for Beethoven...”

      “You wouldn’t recognize Beethoven if he came up and sat next to you,” he said, stretching his toes, settling in for the conversation. Anthony McGarry didn’t call often but when he did, it was generally a marathon. There was nobody better at taking a five-minute story and turning it into fifteen minutes of chatter. “Did you get a new number?”

      “Yeah, made the mistake of giving it to a patient who I thought was just needy but, as it turned out, she was really, truly crazy. Hailey got tired of the phone ringing and was punishing me by making me get up with the baby.”

      “Dr. McGarry, I thought you were smarter than that.”

      “I’m a surgeon, not a psychiatrist.”

      He was one of the best spine surgeons in the country. But didn’t like to talk about it. “How are the queen and the princess?” Trey asked.

      “Magnificent,” Anthony answered. “Didi will be a year on Sunday.”

      He knew that. Was genuinely happy for his friend who’d fallen hook, line and sinker for a fellow physician. Wasn’t his life. Maybe someday. If it was absolutely right.

      “What’s keeping you busy?” Anthony asked.

      “I put up a fence today.”

      “What? You had some bubble gum, toothpicks and a letter opener?”

      His friends frequently teased him about his MacGyver tendencies. Give him a Popsicle stick, a battery and some dental floss, and he can power up a small country. “Funny. I actually had real boards and nails. No challenge at all.”

      There was a moment of silence before Anthony cleared his throat and said, “Hey, there’s this thing.”

      Trey sat up in bed. Something was wrong. Anthony’s voice had changed. “What’s going on, my friend?” he asked.

      “Listen, I hate to ask but I was wondering if you could do something for me?”

      “Name it.” A lifetime ago, when he’d been a freshman in college and Anthony McGarry had been a sophomore, Anthony had saved Trey’s life. It took a long time to pay back that debt.

      “Do you remember my sister, Kellie?”

      “Uh, sure.” Trey had met her once. His freshman move-in day. She’d been a twelve-year-old with braces who was sobbing at the idea of her older brother leaving home for college. He’d been nervous about meeting his roommate, though, and hadn’t given the guy’s little sister much thought.

      “She lives in Vegas now,” Anthony said.

      Trey had not known that. “For how long?”

      “About six months.”

      “Why didn’t you say something?”

      “I’m not sure,” Anthony said evasively.

      Trey knew he was lying. Anthony had always thought Trey was a bit of a hound dog. Probably because Anthony had only dated his high school sweetheart, until that had ended badly in medical school, and then Hailey. He had some crazy idea that Trey had a different woman every night. Had teased Trey about needing a spreadsheet to keep track.

      Trey hadn’t bothered to defend himself. He’d dated a lot of women. But the last time he’d checked, that wasn’t illegal.

      But being an older brother himself, he understood his friend’s reluctance to bring his little sister into the mix. Friendship only went so far. “What’s she doing here?”

      “She finished her doctorate in geosciences last May. Worked her butt off. I contacted Rodney Ballure to see if he might have something.”

      Ballure had been the third roommate in their triple dorm room. Anthony and Rodney had always been tight but Trey hadn’t felt the same. Had good reason, but that was old news.

      When they’d opened Wingman Security in Vegas four years ago, he’d known that Ballure was already in the area because he’d been involved with mining in Nevada since he’d gotten his degree. He’d never felt the inclination to look the man up. Had run into him once at a restaurant, had a couple minutes of very awkward conversation, but that had been at least two years ago. “And he did?” Trey said.

      “Yeah. I really appreciated that. Damn hard to find that first job sometimes. Anyway, says she likes the work. But I’m worried about her. She’s normally really good about returning calls but I’ve left messages over the last few days and haven’t heard back.”

      “Maybe she’s just busy,” Trey said, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He put the phone on speaker and picked up his jeans.

      “She’s got two jobs, so that’s probably true,” Anthony said, his voice full of pride. “She’s got a lot of school loans. Won’t let me help her. Says I have my own loans to pay off.”

      That was probably true. Mrs. McGarry had not had the resources to help her children with college expenses. She’d given them a great deal of love, however. And Trey, by virtue of being Anthony’s friend and roommate, had gotten included in the outpouring.

      “I’d just feel better if somebody I trusted had eyes on her,” Anthony continued. “I thought about calling Rodney since he probably sees her at work but I think Kellie might not like it if I drag her boss into our personal lives.”

      “Considerate it done,” Trey said. “What’s her address?”

      Anthony rattled it off and her phone, as well. “But she’s probably at Lavender tonight. She’s a cocktail server there on Friday and Saturday nights. I did call there but they’re jerks about passing personal phone calls through to their employees.”

      He’d never been to Lavender but he recalled that his partner