He felt a rush of sudden eagerness at the thought of dealing with Kendra Michaels. She was interesting. He had grown so accustomed to successfully manipulating his targets that any change, any stretch, was welcome.

What was the key that he could use to make her go in the direction he wanted? Sympathy? She obviously had a warm attachment to children. But would that extend to adults? Anger? Fear? Sex? No, that last choice had popped up out of nowhere and probably had nothing to do with logical reasoning and everything to do with his physical response. The other two were possibilities, but he would have to see if they were necessary tools.

Oh well, it would come to him. He leaned back against the wall, his gaze intent on Kendra Michaels. In the meantime, he would enjoy watching her. She was like a kaleidoscope, with different shadings and settings shifting before his eyes.

Yes, Kendra Michaels was going to be an interesting project.

THE HOUR-LONG SESSION with Jimmy stretched to an hour and fifteen minutes, violating Kendra’s own rule about her enforced stopping times. She wanted to leave her clients wanting more, eagerly anticipating their next session together. It was always tempting to keep going when she saw them enjoying themselves, but Jimmy had hit such a joyful groove in his drum playing that she knew he wouldn’t tire of an extra quarter hour.

Kendra opened the door to the waiting room, where Jimmy’s mother, Tina, had watched from behind the large one-way glass.

Jimmy rushed toward her. “Mom, I played the drums!” He pounded his drumsticks into the air.

Tina laughed and hugged him. “I saw! You were amazing!” She glanced at Kendra. “I can’t believe the way he lit up!”

“Yes, he did.”

“I actually think…he’s getting better.”

“He could be.” Kendra managed a smile. She knew that Tina wanted more confirmation than that. All the parents did. They spent their lives searching for some sign—any sign—that their children might finally be turning the corner in their affictions, but it was rarely that clear-cut. It was a marathon, not a sprint, she liked to say, and this race could go on for the rest of their lives.

But once in a while, there could be an exception. And who was to say that exception couldn’t be Jimmy?

“It was a good day,” Kendra said. She gently took the drumsticks from Jimmy. “I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yes!” He pounded the air again, still playing to the song in his head as his mother escorted him out.

It had been a good day, Kendra thought. Maybe she should have been more—

“So this is what you do for a living.”

The voice came from behind her. She spun around to see a man strolling toward her from the waiting room. “How did you get in here?”

The man was fortyish, tall, well dressed, and his dark hair was cropped short. Ice blue eyes lit a craggy face that was as tanned as if he’d spent the winter in the Caribbean. He jerked his thumb back toward the waiting room. “The main entrance was locked, so I tapped on the door from the hallway. That nice woman let me in. She may have had the impression that I worked with you.”

“Maybe because that’s what you told her?”

“Not in so many words.”

“It doesn’t take so many words if you choose the right ones. Who are you?”

The man walked toward the piano and idly plunked a few notes on the keyboard. “If what I’ve heard about you is true, you already know quite a bit about me.” He turned back to her. “Why don’t you tell me who I am?”

She gazed warily at him. She had been acquiring information about him since he walked into the room, but she realized it was being submerged by the sheer impact of his personality. There weren’t many people who possessed that instant magnetism, and she had an idea that he used it with the deftness and skill of long practice. Complicated. She had no need of any more complications in her life.

She checked the screen of her cell phone. “I have another appointment coming. Sorry, I don’t have time for games. You should go now.”

“This is no game. Humor me, Dr. Michaels.” He smiled.

It was a charming smile, she thought, meant to put her at ease and draw her closer into the web. Oh yes, she had to be very careful with him.

“It’s the quickest way to get me out of your hair,” he continued. “Much easier than calling security. I’m curious to see—”

Kendra cut him off. “You’re right, let’s get to it. Who are you? Let’s see. I know you have a background in law enforcement, probably the FBI.” She walked around the studio, straightening it for her next client. “But I’m fairly certain you don’t work for them now though you are consulting for them in some capacity. As a matter of fact, you were at the downtown FBI branch office earlier today. And I agree with you that the third-floor conference room is quite stuffy and warm.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze narrowed. “Amazing. I would say that they called and tipped you off, but I didn’t tell anyone that I was even considering coming here.”

“No one tipped me off. I had no idea you were coming, and I’m sure they didn’t either.” She covered the drum kit as she continued her assessment. “When you were with the Bureau, you carried two guns, one in your left shoulder holster and the other on your right ankle. Now you’re only carrying one, in the shoulder holster. I guess getting shot wasn’t quite enough to put you off guns entirely, was it?”

He smiled. “Go on. I’m enjoying this.”

“I’m sure everyone told you to spend more time recuperating, but you couldn’t stand to sit still, could you? That wheelchair drove you crazy, almost as much as the crutches did.”

“Anybody would feel that way.”

“You more than most. Is that why your wife left you?”

He raised his left hand, where a slight indention still appeared on his ring finger. “That’s an easy one.”

“It’s all easy. That ring indention is tanned, but not nearly as tanned as the skin around it. I’d say you took it off two years ago.”

“Two and a half years.”

“I stand corrected. I’m assuming you don’t have children. If you did, that Italian sports car you drive wouldn’t be very practical.”

“I know you didn’t see me drive up.”

She shook her head. “I didn’t. Not very inconspicuous for someone in your line of work, is it?”

“I’m entitled to my indulgences. I have another, much more boring, car at home. No kids, by the way.”

“You’ve been in this area for a while, but not always. You grew up in the Midwest. Wisconsin, I’d say. You probably even went to college there. After that, you spent a few years in the Northeast. Then you came here.”

“In-freaking-credible,” he said softly. “I do believe that everything I’ve heard about you is true.”

“I’m so happy I didn’t disappoint you,” she said sarcastically. “Will you please leave now? I’m very busy.”

“And more than a little hostile. Now why is that? Could it be because I’m FBI?”

“Possibly. If you’re here, I’m sure you know I’ve had a few problems with the Bureau.”

“I’ve heard rumors.” He crossed his arms and leaned against a table. “But there’s no way I can leave without finding out how you knew all that.”

“I didn’t know. There’s no way I could know unless someone told me.”

“But you were right on the money with everything you told me.”

“It’s all a matter of probability. With the information I had, the likelihood of each of the things I said was high. But I really didn’t know. Will you please leave? You’re taking up valuable time.”

“You didn’t tell me who I am. What’s my name?”

“You can’t have everything.” She stared him in the eye. “I’d have to work on that for a while. I’ve given you the performance you wanted from me. You’re not getting anything else.” She paused. “Nothing. Don’t ask.”

“My name is Adam Lynch. How did you know I was with the Bureau?”