Not that Christian flirted. Oh, no. He just steamed up a room enough with all that dark intensity to get any woman talking, if only to get him to stick around a little longer. If she were ten years younger and, of course, single, he would definitely have been someone she would want to keep around.

Good God, it wasn't always easy being one of only two women to work among several of the hottest men she'd ever seen. Even a happily married, settled wife and mom could occasionally be overcome by all the sexy testosterone heating up these offices.

"What are they looking for?" Christian prompted when no one answered his original question.

"We dunno. Dickhead's going through all of Lily's things," said Kyle, not looking away from the atrocity taking place in the next room. "Lily Fletcher's."

Christian probably hadn't needed the clarification. Jackie imagined that in the month he'd been here, the murdered agent's name had been mentioned a hundred times.

"Why?"

"That's what we'd all like to know." That came from Dean Taggert, whose brow was pulled down over a fierce glare cast directly at Anspaugh's back.

All of them were huddled in the hallway outside the conference room, which also served as the team's only storage closet. Boxes and files were stacked in all four corners, and Anspaugh was busily sticking his nose into every one of them. It was all Jackie could do to remain calm when the thickheaded bastard took the framed photograph of Lily's sister and her boy, which used to sit on Lily's desk, and slid it into a plastic evidence bag.

"Did you say they're investigating the Lily Fletcher case?" a woman's voice said. Anna Delaney joined them, having just returned from going over the ACES report on the computer used in the hit-man case.

"Not sure what the hell they're investigating," Jackie mumbled, not wanting to go into yet another explanation as every member of the team came through the door. She was too busy watching Anspaugh, making sure he didn't try to abscond with evidence or confidential files. Or any personal item of Lily's that he could never justify touching, much less taking.

"Maybe it's because of the hearing."

Jackie turned her head toward Anna. So did all the others.

"What hearing?"

The other IT specialist, as efficient and self-confident as Lily had been unsure and quiet, who occupied Lily's chair and did her former job, lifted a brow. "You hadn't heard about the hearing? It's been on the news. I recognized the name immediately, of course, knowing the connection to Agent Fletcher and her family." She shook her head sadly. "Maybe it's just as well she didn't live to see the day."

Thoroughly distracted now, as was everyone else, Jackie stepped closer to the other woman and put a fist on her hip. "You know, I think you better start at the beginning and tell us exactly what it is you're talking about."

The color fell out of Lily's face in a rush, as if someone had pulled the plug on her every vein. Her mouth open in astonishment, she remained silent, having immediately grasped exactly what Wyatt was telling her.

Someone was trying to implicate her in a murder. Someone who had access to the FBI badge that had been lost when she'd been attacked all those months ago. Someone known as Lovesprettyboys. Wyatt had been tipped off to the situation by an old friend in Crandall's office and had immediately gotten Brandon to come up to Maine with him to see Lily.

"Tiger Lily, baby, are you okay?" Brandon scooted his chair closer, putting his arm around Lily's shoulders, his other hand on her clenched ones. He appeared ready to draw her into a comforting hug.

Wyatt suddenly had the urge to pick Brandon up by the front of his shirt and toss him through the patio door.

He resisted.

He had no business getting bent out of shape because another man's hands were on her, another man's arms about to draw her into an embrace. No reason for his body to tense and his breathing to grow labored just because Brandon was whispering soft, consoling words to her, treating her as delicately as a paper-thin seashell that sometimes washed up on the beach below. One that would break apart simply if touched the wrong way.

No business at all.

Yet knowing that didn't stop his temples from pounding and his teeth from slamming together in his mouth.

Then something surprising happened. Lily ducked out from under Brandon's arm, pulled back from him physically, almost imperceptibly shifting her chair an inch or two away. Though still pale, she didn't look distraught, or soft. In fact, her flinty-hard eyes were glued on Wyatt, any signs of dismay having vanished.

"What else?" she asked. "I know there's more."

Wyatt couldn't prevent a slight smile. Maybe it wasn't so surprising. Not from the Lily he now knew.

He didn't try to spare her. He didn't need to. "It's not the first murder."

"I only had one badge."

"Three other men have been brutally murdered in the past six weeks," he explained baldly. "All were lured to motel rooms by someone promising an encounter with a child."

Her eyes drifted closed for a moment, her lashes sooty black against her cheeks. That would, of course, hit her where it hurt, far more than the news that someone might be setting her up for murder.

"We don't have to go into all the details right now, do we?" asked Brandon, shooting Wyatt an annoyed look.

"Yes, you do," she said, opening her eyes again, calm and in control again, brave and forthright. Not to mention utterly magnificent.

Wyatt threw off the thought. "Each case had small clues, minor things, that pointed to you. The names of the nonexistent children were your loved ones' names. Their supposed backgrounds reflected your own. The e-mails worded like some of the communication you'd engaged in with 'Peter Pan' on that last case-the unsub used the term loves pretty boys.' It was all there."

"Making it appear I was still alive, out there, having turned into a vigilante, a rogue agent getting my revenge on anyone like the man who attacked me?"

"Exactly. And a flower was left at each scene. Last week's was a tiger lily."

She didn't flinch, didn't even suck in a breath of surprise. "Last week."

He nodded once, knowing how quickly her mind worked.

"Last week, right before you showed up here to check up on me?"

Brandon interrupted. "You have to believe us, Lily-we never actually suspected you. Not for one second. Neither of us thought you were capable of hurting anyone, of even considering doing something so violent."

She didn't even glance at the younger man; her attention remained strictly on Wyatt. Her brow lifted, her chin tilting up in challenge. "Is that true, Wyatt? You never suspected it of me, not even for one second?"

They had come way too far for him to lie. Besides, he didn't lie. Not if he could help it. Certainly not to people he cared about.

"Well?" she prodded.

Brandon shot him a warning glance, obviously still worried about Lily's fragile state.

Fragile? Maybe once. Not anymore.

Though the situation was incredibly grave, Wyatt couldn't help lifting one side of his mouth in a half smile. "Maybe for a second. Or two."

Lily didn't react for a moment, and then she actually grinned in return. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

At that moment, Brandon got it. He saw. Wyatt almost felt sorry for the younger man, who suddenly sagged back in his chair, his jaw unhinged, surprise filling his face. He supposed it would be pretty shocking to realize you knew absolutely nothing about the woman you fancied yourself in love with.

Wyatt knew her, though. He knew her very well. And liked her all the more for it.

"So your little visit last weekend, you were investigating me, right?"

"Right."

"Seeing if I, poor little lost Lily, was a ruthless, coldblooded killer." She didn't seem the least bit distressed by the idea. "All those conversations, those questions about whether I'd ever left here, about whether I could seek revenge. They were part of your investigation."