Corvo? Where was that? Lizzie grabbed the mouse to hit Google, but froze at the sound of a car engine slowing outside the house.

Damn.

Could he have found her already? He didn’t know where this house was, and even his almighty connections wouldn’t be able to find a house that was in her mother’s maiden name, which he didn’t know.

Still, she wrapped her arms around her waist as she headed to the living room. The bungalow was at the end of a dead-end street in a little-known section of Vero Beach. There were only two other houses on the street, and traffic was extremely rare.

She peeked through the window, seeing only the overgrown shrubbery smashed against it. They had to hire someone to hack it away before the jungle overtook the house.

A car door slammed on the street.

But he drove a bike. She let out a little breath, still braced for his deep voice calling her name. Lizzie! I know you’re-

“Lizzie, honey, are you there?”

“Sam!” The voice of a friend was so welcome, she threw the door all the way open and practically hugged him. “How did you know I was here?”

“I know you pretty well, Lizzie,” he said with a smile. “You shouldn’t come over and roll around in memories, honey.”

She invited him in, shrugging. “I didn’t want to go up to my apartment in Cocoa just yet.” Con would look there for her next, no doubt.

“So you came to your refuge.”

Smiling, she conceded with a nod. “How’s Charlotte doing?”

“She’s upset about Alita, and all the questioning. Sorry that the dive is over. Worried about you. She sent me here to fetch you and bring you to our house.” Sam surveyed her face and uncombed hair. “You look like you could use some TLC.”

“I’m just exhausted. It’s been a helluva night and morning.”

Sam glanced around. “Where’s Brianna?”

She settled on one of the two rickety bar stools and rested her elbow on the yellow countertop. “Europe.”

He drew back. “Really? Where?”

“Lisbon, I think.”

“You think? She didn’t tell you?”

Lizzie shook her head. “And probably for good reason. I’m too protective, I know that.”

“Did she go with friends?”

“I really have no idea. I have a feeling she’s following some genealogical lead that my father was tracking for…” She hesitated, torn. “A project he was working on. She’s gone somewhere called Corvo.”

Sam practically fell off the stool. “The island in the Azores? Brianna went there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I had an e-mail from a genealogist my father was in touch with, and she said she’d given my sister what he needed when she saw her the other day in Lisbon, then she said something about Bree taking it to Corvo.”

Sam looked as dismayed as she felt. “Never been there myself, but from what I know it’s tiny, the farthest of the Azores, about a thousand miles from Portugal. That ought to please the adventuress in Brianna’s soul.”

A thousand miles from Portugal? “That’s the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.” Her heart swelled with worry. “I really need to find her.”

“Why don’t you get some help from Con? He seemed like a resourceful guy, and…” Sam gave her a sly smile. “Char told me you two were pretty close.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Lizzie said, popping off the stool at the soft ding of an e-mail from the office.

“Oh? Why was he a mistake?”

Because he was a lying, thieving, underhanded, undercover cheating bastard who works for Judd Paxton.

“I just… misjudged him,” she said, purposefully vague as she headed to the office, praying the e-mail was from Bree.

Sam followed. “He seemed pretty upstanding to me.” “He seemed like a lot of things he wasn’t.”

She bent over the keyboard and clicked, clenching a fist in hope, but it was an advertisement from Office Depot. Disappointment punched her, and she dropped into the chair with a sigh.

“Honey, why don’t you come and stay with us for a while? This place is too depressing for you. All those shrubs smashed against the windows make it dark and dreary in here, along with the memories that are dragging you down. Char and I have plenty of room.”

It was only a matter of time until Con figured out her mother’s maiden name, and his research team at the Bullet Catchers tracked her down.

And once he found her, he’d find the scepter.

If she left the house empty, he’d tear it apart until he got what he wanted.

Then all the answers came to her.

“Sam, I need to trust you with the biggest secret you can imagine. The one thing that mattered most to my father in the whole world.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “El Falcone?”

“You know about that?”

“Lizzie, I was very close friends with your father. Of course he talked about his search.”

“Did you realize that we were diving on El Falcone?”

He gave her leg a squeeze. “Why do you think we invited you? We wanted you to be there when the recoveries were made. I knew how much it mattered to Malcolm, and how much he’d want a family member there.”

“You knew and didn’t tell me?”

“Charlotte thought it best not to tell you until we knew for sure. Now it’s all kind of moot, isn’t it?”

It was so not moot. “How did you know?”

“Malcolm showed me his map and told me his conjecture. When I heard where this dive was, and that it was supersecret and taking place off-season, I figured that once again, Judd Paxton was one step ahead of everyone else in the treasure world.”

“You should have told me. It would have been a lot easier if I knew you’d known.”

“Well, I listened to my wife on that one. When that Our Lady of Sorrows medallion came up, I was pretty sure, but then all hell broke loose with Alita’s…” His voice trailed off. “What would have been easier?”

“Bringing up the scepter.”

He frowned in confusion.

“And the diamond that was in it,” she added softly.

Sam’s eyes popped open. “Excuse me?”

“Come with me.” Lizzie tugged him up and back to the kitchen, popping open the freezer and shoving ice trays and frozen pizzas out of the way.

“Char will die if you put it in the freezer,” he said.

“Just temporarily. I’m taking it to my safe-deposit box later.” But would Con track it down, and somehow figure out how to get it from the bank? The man-and his company-seemed to be capable of anything.

She reached for the butcher paper she’d wrapped it in, pulled it out, and handed the package to a stunned, visibly pale Sam. “I found it the second day and sneaked it off the boat.”

“How?”

She grinned. “Blondes find the gold, Sam.”

He laughed, still bewildered. “Can I see it?”

She had a better idea. “Can you keep it? is the question. I think it’s dangerous, and obviously valuable. And I’ll warn you, Con Xenakis is looking for it. That’s why I’m hiding here-he doesn’t know about this house. But like you said, he’s resourceful. By the time he figures it out, I want to be gone.”

“Gone where?”

The rightness of her decision settled around her like a warm blanket, making her smile. “To find my sister.”

“Can you leave in the middle of this investigation?” he asked. “The FBI agent instructed us to stay.”

“They already have Alita’s killer.”

He almost dropped the scepter. “Lizzie, if you drop one more bomb on me, I’ll have a heart attack. How do you know this?”

“Long story, but Flynn and Alita were having a fling. He was stealing treasure and she was helping him. We think he killed her.”

“We?”

She felt a soft flush. “Con and me.”

“So are you working with this guy, or do you hate him?”

“I hate him,” she said definitively. “And the FBI agent told me I could leave town for an emergency. I call finding my sister an emergency if I can be reached. If you have this, I can go knowing it’s in safe hands.”

“Of course, but what if Con comes looking for it? He might suspect you gave it to me.”