“Lucky for me,” she murmured.

His gut told him something more sinister. “Maybe it was lucky because the man knew exactly what he was doing.”

Silence.

Maybe he wanted to hurt you, but not kill you. Not then. Had the guy been just playing with her in that alley?

Davis glanced between them. “You think some kind of hired killer has targeted her? Why would someone like that be after a society girl?”

She shuddered.

“Why indeed?” Brodie murmured. Because now that he’d learned more details about the attacks, he was sure thinking the stalker wasn’t some ex-lover who’d been scorned. Maybe Jennifer had been right to deny that claim. When he’d seen the arson reports, his suspicions had sharpened. This wasn’t some enraged maniac coming after her.

They were looking at a controlled, organized killer. But why was that killer after Jennifer?

“If you aren’t honest with me,” Brodie told her flatly, “then we’re going to have a problem.” He couldn’t work in the dark.

She backed up a step.

“What does the man after you know?” He couldn’t forget that photo and those two words that had been written across it.

“I have no idea.” Her voice was wooden.

He hated having to interrogate her. She’d come to him for help, so why was she holding back? Why was she making him push her? “The picture was taken at the Saint Louis Cathedral in New Orleans.” He’d recognized the spot because he’d handled a few cases in the Big Easy. “What were you doing when that picture was taken?”

“I was...just going for a walk.”

Lie.

His stare cut to Davis. His brother’s expression had tightened.

“We can’t help you—” Brodie forced the words between his teeth “—if we don’t know what we’re up against.”

Her gaze fell to the floor. “You didn’t know what you were up against in the Middle East. When you rushed in to save me, you had no clue how many men would be holding me. You came inside anyway.”

Because that had been the mission. Save her, at all costs. And he had thought that he’d known what he was facing. Too late, he’d learned their intel was wrong. “Jennifer—”

His phone started to ring. Brodie yanked it out of his back pocket, then frowned when he stared down at the screen. He didn’t recognize that number. He was tempted to ignore the call, but...

It could be another client—someone in a desperate situation who needed him.

And Jennifer was filling a plate with eggs, giving him her back.

Huffing out a breath, he answered the call. “McGuire.”

“She’s lying to you.” The voice was a low whisper. “Don’t believe the things that she says.”

“Who the hell is this?”

“Her father didn’t commit suicide and it was no boating accident...”

His attention was locked on Jennifer’s back.

“She killed him.”

Jennifer?

“She’s using you. Setting you up.”

Brodie unclenched his jaw to say, “I’m coming after you.” He knew he was talking to Jennifer’s stalker. “I’m going to find you, and I’m going to make sure you get locked in a cage.”

Jennifer whirled toward him, her eyes wide.

“Why don’t you ask sweet Jennifer what she knows about the murder of your parents? Why she knows her way around your ranch so well?”

“Look, you son of a—”

The line went dead.

“Brodie?” Jennifer put down her plate and crept toward him.

He immediately tried to do a redial on the jerk. But the phone rang and rang. Hell, no. So Brodie tried another option. He got his brother Mac on the line. Mackenzie “Mac” McGuire had connections that they could use. “Mac, listen—no, damn it, I don’t care if you’re half awake. I need you to run a trace on a telephone number.” He rattled off the number. “I have to know who this guy is, and I need to know now.”

He hung up the phone. The fury rushing through him was so great that his hands were shaking, and he balled them into fists. That fool had brought up his family. His family.

“That was him?” Jennifer asked, and her hand touched his shoulder. “He called you?”

Brodie gave a curt nod. “He’s trying to turn me against you.” Like he didn’t recognize the oldest trick in the book. He recognized it all right, and it infuriated him. “Giving me some bull about you killing your father—”

Her gaze cut away from his.

“And you knowing intel about my parents’ death.” Of course, she didn’t know anything. Why would a society girl from Louisiana know about the murder of two Texas ranchers?

Davis stalked toward them. “He said that crap to you?”

Brodie’s stare was on Jennifer. She’d paled. And she wasn’t meeting his stare.

“Jennifer...he was lying, wasn’t he?” Brodie demanded.

His phone rang then, but this time he recognized Mac’s number. He put the phone to his ear. “Tell me you found out who—”

“The phone belongs to a Jennifer Wesley,” Mac said. “You know who that is?”

He was staring right at her. “Yeah, I do.”

“Don’t ask about the strings I pulled—”

He tried never to ask.

“But I got a buddy to try and locate that phone. I figured it had to be working since you called and woke me up at helluva-too-early o’clock.”

Despite the tense situation, Brodie’s lips almost twitched.

“He triangulated the signal, and the caller is close.”

“How close?”

“Within ten miles of the ranch.”

He followed us.

“Do you need me?” Mac demanded. “Because I can be on my way in two minutes.”

“I got this.” He wasn’t about to let the stalker play his games, not on Brodie’s home turf. “Thanks.”

“Anytime...”

He pushed the phone back into his pocket. Jennifer was watching him with wide eyes. “When you escaped that fire, did you leave your phone behind?” Brodie asked.

She nodded.

“He’s got it.” He marched for the door. “And the guy is out there right now, playing with us.” He planned to find the man. The stalker would have taken to shelter, trying to stay hidden as he attempted to monitor what was happening at the ranch. “Stay here,” he threw over his shoulder as he hurried out. “I’m taking him down.”

He left the main ranch house and headed for the stables. If the stalker was watching the main road that led to the ranch, then Brodie sure didn’t want to advertise his presence as he hunted. And the best way to do that?

Sneak up on the guy. He went into the stables and started saddling his horse.

When he heard the tap of soft footsteps behind him, Brodie whirled around and found Jennifer standing just a few feet away.

“You’re going after him?” she asked.

He grabbed the reins for his horse. “Damn straight.”

She crossed to him. “He’s that close? You’re sure?”

Close enough to watch them, but the stalker hadn’t set off any of the alarms that protected the perimeter of the ranch. Not yet. “He won’t see me coming,” Brodie assured her. That was why he planned to take his horse. The guy would be looking for a car, not a rider on horseback. “Not until it’s too late.”

Her gaze slid over the row of stalls in the stables. “I’m coming with you.”

The hell she was. “Stay with Davis. He’ll keep you safe.”

She was already marching toward the nearest stall. “This man has been terrorizing me for months. I’m not just going to stand back while you go after him by yourself. I won’t risk you just to save myself.”

What—she was his backup? “Can you even ride a horse?” He blurted the question out before he had the sense to stop himself.

Her head jerked toward him. Her eyes became angry slits. “Betting I ride better than you, cowboy.” Her voice had turned arctic. He watched as she expertly saddled her horse and then leaped into the saddle.

Well, well. Wasn’t she full of surprises? “My mistake,” he muttered.

Her father didn’t commit suicide...and it was no boating accident...