“I thought so.” He managed to slide her a hint of a smile. “Face it. For the next couple of weeks you’re going to be way more popular than anyone should be.”

“Great,” she muttered, but told herself this is what she’d wanted, to be accepted as London Danvers, to finally know the truth about her past.

He picked up his cell phone and listened to messages as he eased the Jeep onto I-5. His smile faded.

“What?” she asked when he hung up.

“There’s a change of plan. Something I have to do. Alone. I’ll need to drop you off at a police station.”

“Who called you?”

He didn’t answer, as he cut across traffic toward an exit that she knew led to Macadam Avenue.

“Zach, who called and what did he say?”

“Just be patient.” He dialed a number, swore, then left a brief message. “Len, it’s Zach Danvers. I’ll need police protection for Adria. Call me back ASAP.”

“Wait a minute,” she insisted as he pulled into the lot of a restaurant near the Willamette River. “What’s going on, Zach? You can’t just dump me off and leave me. Who the hell called you.” His lips tightened at the corners and he avoided her gaze. “Oh, God” she whispered and knew in an instant. “Eunice.”

“We’ll wait until I hear back from Len.”

“Why? What did she want?” Fear caused the back of her throat to go dry. “Oh, God. She wants to meet with you, doesn’t she?”

“Just stay here, inside, where you’ll be safe. I’ll be back soon.”

“Are you crazy? I’m not sitting around here waiting while you go and face her.

“She’s my mother,” he said without any emotion.

“And a killer.”

“We think.”

“We know, Zach!” Adria grabbed his arm. “You’re not going alone. I’ll come with you.”

“No.”

“This is all because of me.”

“And if we’re right and she’s behind this, then you’ll be in danger, but I won’t. Stay here. I’ll call Len and tell him where you are. The police will come by or I’ll be back and you’ll be safe.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” she threw back at him as raindrops drizzled down the windshield. “Aren’t you the one who said I needed a bodyguard, round-the-clock protection? What if someone followed us here? What if Eunice or whoever is banking on us splitting up? What if she’s in collusion with a partner and used the phone call to lure you away?”

“Hell.” Obviously the same thoughts had crossed his mind. “Isn’t there anyone you can trust?”

“So that you can dump me off? I don’t think so! Who would it be? Someone from your family? Trisha? Jason? Or the Polidoris?”

“Okay, okay! I get it.” Impatiently he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as the Jeep idled.

“I think it’s better if we stick together.”

Instead of arguing, he reached under the seat and pulled out a handgun in a holster.

“You have a gun?” she asked, shocked.

“Yeah. I’ve been on some jobs where I thought I might need protection. Never used it. But I have a permit for a concealed weapon. Do you know how to use it?”

“I grew up in Montana,” she said as he handed her the weapon.

“Could you shoot it if you had to?”

“Yes.” But she wasn’t certain. Of course if someone threatened her life or Zach’s…Just the thought of this caused fear to jet through her blood.

“Good.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you kept it?” The pistol felt cold and heavy in her hands.

His jaw slid to the side as he shoved his rig into reverse, then wheeled out of the parking lot. “I was thinking if something unforeseen happens and we get split up…or…something happens to me…you’ll have the weapon.”

“What do you mean ‘something happens to me.’”

He pulled out of the lot and drove south along the river. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. There’s no telling what Eunice might do now that she’s cornered. She begged me to come alone and speak with her privately, but I don’t trust her.”

“Why not call the police?”

“I will. When we get there. I don’t want them bursting in ahead of time. Just in case she really does have something to say to me alone…or with you.”

“Fair enough.” Her heart pounding, her fingers clenched around the cold weapon, Adria barely noticed the forested cliffs on one side of the road, nor the steely gray waters on the other. Expensive homes peeked through the thick branches and lush shrubbery.

Zach’s knuckles showed white as he guided his Jeep through the commercial area of the town, then turned along a narrow, twisting road that rimmed the lake. Splashes of green water were visible through the tall trees and homes perched along the shoreline.

Adria steeled herself and tucked the pistol into her jacket pocket. He glowered through the windshield, his jaw set, his lips a razor-thin line. “What’s the plan?”

“I knock on her door and demand answers.”

“With me.”

“You stay in the Jeep. I’ll park a few houses away.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. “No one’s followed us, so you’ll be safe. As long as you keep the pistol.”

“I said I’m coming with you. Eunice is probably expecting that you’ll do just what you said.”

“Listen, Adria, I don’t like this-”

“Neither do I, but I’d rather be with you than off waiting somewhere, not knowing what’s going on.”

“Fine.” A muscle worked in his jaw.

“Besides, I think I’m safer with you.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” he growled under his breath as he pulled into the short drive of a two-storied cottage with white siding, dormers and black shutters. Though it was early afternoon, the day was gray and damp and warm interior lights blazed through paned windows. “Cozy, isn’t it?” Zach mocked as he reached for his phone, dialed a number and quickly explained the situation to Len Barry of the Portland police, then hung up. “Okay, that should give us just enough time,” he said and climbed out of the car.

Adria’s palms were sweating, her heart jack-hammering as she and Zach walked up the stone path to a small covered porch. Flowers bloomed brilliantly in boxes and the shrubbery flanking the house was clipped and neat, a perfect little home in a prestigious community.

The home of a killer.

Zach didn’t wait, but knocked loudly, his fist pounding on the door. Adria felt the gun, heavy in her pocket, as her heart pounded in dread.

Would she face the woman who had tried to kill her?

Ginny Slade’s murderer?

The door opened and Eunice Danvers Smythe, dressed in a black velour jogging suit, stood in the empty hallway. Sweat beaded her forehead and flushed cheeks as if she’d been working out. “Zach!” she said before her gaze traveled to Adria. “Oh…I wondered if you’d drag her along.” She forced a smile as frigid as the bottom of the Columbia River. “Come in. Both of you.”

“What’s this all about, Eunice?” he asked, not moving.

“I think it’s time to explain a few things.”

“Such as.”

“I was going to start with Kat.”

Adria’s muscles tightened at the mention of her mother and Zach’s harsh expression turned even more severe. “Why not Ginny?” he asked.

“Because it’s best, don’t you think, to begin at the beginning.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Don’t tell me. You’ve called the police.” She was walking down a hallway, her tennis shoes silent on the polished hardwood floors, her gait a little off, the scent of jasmine wafting after her. “Oh, Zach, you’re so predictable. I wish you would have talked to me first.” She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze landing on Adria again. “Maybe it’s better that you’re here after all. Close the door, would you?”

Adria, feeling as if she was truly walking into a lion’s den, complied. Zach waited for her and by the time they walked into the kitchen, Eunice was already dipping a tea bag into a cup of hot water. Two cups stood waiting, water already steaming from their porcelain depths. “Would you like some?” she asked, dipping a tea bag into the cup.

Zach shook his head.

“You?” she asked, glancing at Adria and there was a light in her eyes that gave Adria pause.

Something wasn’t right here. The smell of jasmine from the tea seeped into the room and a chill as cold as all of December settled in Adria’s bones. “I’m fine.” What was with the tea?

“What is it you wanted to say, Eunice?” Zach, standing near the kitchen table, didn’t take his suspicious gaze from his mother as she busied herself with her tea cup.

To Adria, the entire situation was surreal. She stood next to Zach, waiting to hear the worst, watching a woman who was probably a killer calmly fiddle with her cup.

“Sit down, Zach, and drink a cup of tea or coffee with me,” she said, waving him into a chair. “It might be the last one we’ll be able to share for a long, long time.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Zach-”

“Get on with it, Eunice.” He checked his watch. “The police should be here within a few minutes. You’d better tell me what it was you wanted to say before you have to tell it to a detective.”

“You think I killed Ginny,” Eunice said.

“You’re way ahead of me.”

“I didn’t do it.” She looked up, set the empty bag on the table.

“Right.”

“I mean it. I said I should start with Kat…or more precisely, London. I did kidnap her and I paid Ginny to make certain she never surfaced again. But she failed.” Her lips flattened as she glanced at Adria.

“So you decided to get rid of Ginny.”

“No…there’s someone who’s one step ahead of me and trying to blame me for everything that’s happening.”

“Let’s get through the bullshit,” Zach said, stepping away from the wall, closing the gap between himself and the woman who had borne him. “I came here for answers, not smoke screens or excuses or lies.”

“But it’s true,” she insisted, her eyes pleading as he stood, looming over the table, a big man with wide shoulders and sleek muscles and a fury so intense his lips had flattened against his teeth.