“THIS IS YOUR OFFICE,” Tyler Foley told Adam.

“Great view,” Adam responded, still in shock. Just before he’d left for Iraq, he and Tyler had barely scraped together enough money for a rat hole of an office in a run-down warehouse that had been converted to a warren of bleak little cubes.

Tyler grinned, the same ingratiating smile that had assured him the “good cop” role when he’d worked homicide with Adam. “I guess you didn’t believe my e-mails. I told you HiTech Security was going gangbusters.”

“I received your messages.” Adam could have said the e-mails had been the highlight of his existence, but one thing he’d already learned was that people didn’t have a clue about how bad things were in Iraq. Death or boredom were constant companions, depending on where you were at any given moment. A message from home was heaven-sent. Tyler’s brief accounts of the progress of their fledgling company had sent his spirits soaring. It propelled him out of the hellish confines of the present into the limitless possibilities of the future.

“Why don’t I review our accounts’ files so that I get up to speed,” suggested Adam.

A beat of silence, then Tyler said, “I’ll have Sherry teach you how to access the accounts on the computer.”

Adam glanced down at the chrome-and-glass desk that was pushed up against the window of his new office. A large flat-screen monitor dominated the space. Beside it was a keyboard and a telephone with buttons for several extensions.

“You’ve gone paperless?” he asked Tyler.

“Just about. It’s the wave of the future. Everything’s on a disc these days. You’ll learn-”

“Not a problem,” he assured Tyler. “I had a lot of downtime in Baghdad. One of the guys was a computer guru in his real life. He taught me a lot.”

Tyler cracked a laugh that might have sounded a bit forced; Adam wasn’t sure. “You’re probably ahead of me. Sherry handles everything. She knows where all the bodies are buried around here.”

Tyler left Adam to “make himself at home” in his new office. Adam sat at the desk and gazed out at the Pacific. The water was calm now and appeared to be a glistening sheet of stainless steel. He felt like a third wheel. Obviously, Tyler had done exceedingly well without him.

Where did he fit in now?

Did he fit in at all? Anywhere?

Well, he might be able to help grow the business even more. A receptionist, two women in the office. They could hire more people and expand, once they decided which direction to go in.

When Adam and Tyler had both tired of detective work that was usually drug-related, they’d decided to launch their own private-investigation company. They’d set up shop, seeing corporate security as an emerging field.

Then Adam’s unit had been called to duty. Obviously, the company had taken off in another direction. Adam had been able to tell a little about this from Tyler’s e-mails.

Adam surfed through the account files for the better part of an hour. The company seemed to be very successful. The receivables were up to date, showing how financially healthy the company was, but it wasn’t involved in corporate security, the way they’d intended when they’d formed HiTech.

Adam rose and walked out of his office, heading down the hall to Tyler’s office.

“Mr. Foley’s with a client,” called Sherry.

“Please let Tyler know I need to speak with him.”

Adam nodded to the brunette and returned to his office. He had the vague impression she didn’t approve of him. Who could blame her? His hair was in desperate need of a cut and his clothes were barely passable. He’d spent the earlier part of the morning, after his encounter with Whitney’s ex, sorting through the stuff he’d hastily put into a storage unit before shipping out. Most of it had mildewed during this overseas deployment and wasn’t even fit for Goodwill.

When it came right down to it, nothing much was left of his previous life. He needed to start over-with a fresh attitude. After all, by some miracle, his life had been spared. He should make the most of this second chance. As soon as he spoke with Tyler about the company’s direction, Adam was going shopping.

With nothing better to do, he Googled the articles written about his uncle’s death. The few lines recounting Calvin Hunter’s career in the navy were eclipsed by his win at the Frankfurt International Dog Show with Jasper. Not one of the articles mentioned a 911 call made from Calvin’s home by a woman who’d fled the scene before help arrived.

That mystery followed by a robbery during which the thieves had ignored priceless antiques, but had stolen his uncle’s computer and discs, disturbed Adam. What could be on his uncle’s computer? Expense reports, no doubt. His uncle must have claimed judging shows was his business and probably wrote off many questionable expenses, like a Citation and a villa in the Greek Isles.

Calvin Hunter had been in financial trouble, according to his attorney. Adam needed to find out just what caused the problem and the extent of the difficulty. If his uncle had been murdered as Adam suspected, the trail might begin with his finances. From his work as a homicide detective, Adam knew most murders were crimes of passion or the result of disputes over money. Judging from what Adam had seen of his uncle’s home, no woman had been sharing it with him. The money trail was the place to start.

Adam stood in his office, his fists rammed into the back pockets of his well-worn Dockers, staring out at the sea in the distance. He was just as glad his uncle hadn’t left him a lot of money-just buildings with debts. When all was said and done, he wanted to know he’d built his own business. It was all about pride, he decided.

His father had been the same way. Matthew Hunter had been a building contractor. When he’d unexpectedly keeled over from a heart attack, the small savings Adam had accumulated had gone toward finishing his father’s last job. It hadn’t been enough, and Adam had been forced to take out a loan to complete the project and protect his father’s good name.

Adam’s thoughts strayed from memories of his father to Whitney Marshall. He’d been dating a woman when he’d left for Iraq. He’d told Holly that it was over before he went, and she’d quickly replaced him. He’d thought returning might trigger old feelings, but it hadn’t. Instead he kept seeing Whitney’s deep green eyes and tousled blond hair. He pushed brain Pause and rewound his thoughts to last night. He could feel Whitney beneath him. So soft. So sexy.

So…right.

Whitney was gorgeous, and he’d wanted to tell her so, but thought better of it. How could any man in his right mind be so attracted to someone he’d thought was a burglar? Of course, Adam might not be in his right mind. He’d been changed in ways he was still discovering.

“Hey, Adam.” Tyler interrupted his thoughts. “You wanted to see me.”

Adam slowly turned away from the view and tried for a smile. “Yeah, I was looking over the accounts. Seems like we’re into private guard services big-time.”

“Look, you’ve been out of touch. There’s been an explosion of gated communities around here. Providing gate ambassadors-”

“Ambassadors?”

“It’s a fancy term everyone uses for guards. No one wants to say guards. That implies crime. So everyone goes with ambassadors.” Tyler chuckled. “It’s a no-brainer, and it’s our bread and butter.”

Adam detected more than a hint of defensiveness in his friend’s tone. He hadn’t intended to make him anxious. “You’ve really built the business while I was gone.” Adam didn’t remind Tyler that most of the money to start HiTech had been his. Tyler had put up very little cash, but he had done all the work when Adam’s unit was sent to Iraq. “I just thought we’d agreed to go into corporate security.”

“I know, but that’s a tough nut to crack.” His tone was accommodating, more like the Tyler that Adam had known before leaving. “Corporate security takes a lot of computer geeks and expensive equipment. I don’t think we should head in that direction yet.”