Page 9 of Ground Truth

Likely.

Possibly.

“You won’t rest until you find out for sure,” she said aloud, shaking her head. “Call the station. Get a better copy of the video. Find that woman and confirm. She’s not Greta. Can’t be Greta.”

Strong words were all she had to work with as she attempted to squelch the hope that rose in her chest. Her efforts failed.

This woman could be Greta Campbell. All things were possible.

Hanna had never expected to be released from the cold, damp prison where she’d spent five long years. Yet here she was.

Was her big sister still alive?

Hanna simply had to know.

She found her phone again and searched through her old contacts list until she found the name and number she needed.

Alonzo Drake. She pressed the button to make the call.

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Chapter 6

Italy

Flint was antsy. Maria Blunt was an accomplished hostess, and her yacht was pleasant enough. Excellent chefs. Worthy gambling opponents. Sex with her was fun.

Yet floating around the Mediterranean was not the kind of luxury a man raised in dusty West Texas enjoyed indefinitely.

Under different circumstances, he might have given the relationship a chance. But he already knew Maria was not a woman he wanted to make a life with. She was beautiful and rich, which was okay.

But she was too agreeable and not self-sufficient enough for him. He liked his women more than a little on the feisty side. There was probably some deep psychological reason for that, but he’d never cared to explore it.

He knew it was time to move on. Probably tomorrow.

Which was why, when his colleague Katie Scarlett called with a potential new case, Flint already had one foot out the door.

“How’d things go in Switzerland?” Scarlett asked when Flint picked up the call from his lounge chair on the foredeck.

Maria was floating in the pool. Several guests wearing expensive swimwear bought on the Riviera were chatting among themselves behind oversized designer sunglasses.

“Mission accomplished, as they say. Hedinger’s château is filled with impressive collectibles. If the place weren’t so damned cold, I could probably make a fortune retrieving baubles for their rightful owners,” Flint replied with a smile in his voice and a drink in his hand.

“Just what you need. A part-time job,” Scarlett replied dryly. “How’s the sun?”

“I’m worried I might have frostbite.”

“Yeah, well, we can get you warmed up. It’s damned hot in Houston,” Scarlett said. “Maddy and Whiskers miss you. When are you coming back?”

Maddy was Scarlett’s seven-year-old daughter. Whiskers was the schnauzer puppy Flint had given her for her birthday without asking her mother. Which he’d known at the time was extremely risky.

Scarlett was a good marksman and qualified with a variety of weapons.

He grinned and absently rubbed the scar on his chest where she’d accidentally shot him with an arrow when they were children.

They’d been playing William Tell in the backyard of the foster home where they’d met and become instantly inseparable. Flint had foolishly offered to wear the apple on his head first.

Scarlett was still annoyed with him about the puppy, but he wasn’t worried. Maddy adored Whiskers and Scarlett adored Maddy. Which meant she’d stopped holding this particular grudge already, even if she wouldn’t admit it to him.

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