A plan?

He wanted no part of any plan Domenic Coriz concocted. How was he going to get out of this mess? Now he knew why people committed suicide. If you had no way out, death might be your only choice.

You’re stronger than that, he reminded himself. He’d grown up the youngest child in a working-class family. The youngest was supposed to be the baby, but it hadn’t worked that way in his family. Youngest meant his older siblings raised him. They’d teased him mercilessly or ignored him. He’d never known what to expect, so he’d struck out on his own. He’d worked hard to put himself through college and medical school. True, he’d married Whitney and she’d been responsible for his medical education, but he had struggled to get ahead. And he’d made it. This was a temporary setback-nothing more.

Mentally reviewing his limited options, he meandered back to the master suite, taking time to turn off the backyard lights that Whitney had thrown on during her desperate search for Lexi.

“Are you really going to call the testing labs tomorrow?” Ashley asked when he wandered into their bedroom.

She was in bed, propped up against an armada of pillows and dressed in his favorite sheer black negligee that half exposed her perfect breasts. He’d performed more than his fair share of boob jobs and appreciated the real thing more than most men.

“Yes. I’ll call around.” He kept talking as he went into his large walk-in closet off the bedroom. He raised his voice so she could still hear him. “Lexi’s my dog, too. I don’t want anyone experimenting on her.”

Ashley waited a second before responding, “Of course not.”

For an extended moment, he stood there, one leg out of his trousers, the other still covered by the fabric. An unsettled feeling caused his shoulders to twitch. Something about Ashley’s reaction to Lexi’s disappearance bothered him.

He finished undressing and tossed his dirty clothes in the hamper he kept next to six long rows of shoes. Some, like his black patent leather tuxedo shoes, he rarely wore, but seeing them all lined up and polished made him smile. He had a shoe fixation for some reason, and he knew it. A shrink might ask if he’d lacked shoes as a kid or been forced to wear hand-me-downs. No. His family hadn’t had much money, but he’d always had his own sneakers and church shoes.

Still, he never failed to notice people’s shoes when he met them. Ashley had been wearing strappy high-heeled sandals when he’d seen her for the first time. Tonight, Adam Hunter had on new black Pumas. As usual, Whitney was wearing ratty cross-trainers she’d bought on sale. Dom Coriz’s man had been wearing steel-toed boots most often seen on construction jobs.

He left his Nikes in their spot on the shoe rack and walked naked into the bedroom. Ashley was still sitting upright, her blond hair cascading over her shoulders. The thought niggling at the back of his mind resurfaced.

“Ashley, do you know anything about Lexi’s disappearance?”

“Of course not,” she replied a bit too quickly.

He stopped at the foot of the bed and asked himself how he knew she was lying. Nothing about the innocent expression on her face gave her away. Still, little red flags had been popping up since he joined her at the front door. Her tone of voice. Her flushed face.

“Don’t lie to me.”

The anger and frustration he harbored over his gambling losses and Dom’s threats underscored each syllable. Ashley clutched the silk top sheet as if she expected him to backhand her. He held his temper and stared at the woman he loved. “Is there something you want to tell me?” he finally asked when the silence had lengthened.

Ashley blinked back tears with two sweeps of her long lashes. It was the first time he’d seen her cry. Ashley was his wife, the woman he loved in a way that he’d never loved anyone on this earth. At another time, tears might have moved him. Tonight his mind was numb from all the jackals after a piece of his hide.

“A-a friend swiped her dog,” Ashley confessed.

“Aw, shit! Why?”

Ashley scrambled out from under the covers, dashed to his side and pressed her centerfold body against his. “We thought that if the dog went missing overnight, Whitney would be motivated to sign the documents.”

“What? Of all the harebrained ideas! How was she supposed to link the dog to the papers?”

“In the morning my friend is going to call Whitney and tell her what to do if she wants her dog back.”

Christ! Ashley was legally blond. “What if Whitney calls the police? They’ll come after me.”

A bitter-sounding laugh slipped out from between her pouty lips. “It would be her word against yours-and she wouldn’t stand a chance of getting Lexi back. My friend will make that crystal clear.”

Ryan had to admit the scheme might have worked, but it also would have told Whitney how desperate he was.

He backed away from Ashley. “Call your friend. Get Lexi back to Whitney. Have her say she found the dog wandering. Do not let her say or do anything that would make Whitney suspect we were involved. Understand?”

He stomped into his closet and grabbed a pair of slacks off a hanger. Ashley followed him in and stood at the door. She didn’t say a word but he could feel her watching him as he dressed.

Finally she asked, “Why are you getting dressed again?”

He shoved his bare feet into a pair of navy Topsiders he didn’t remember ever wearing. “I need to get out of here and think. When I come back, I expect you’ll have taken care of the problem.”

“I will,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”

Ryan rushed out of the bedroom. He wasn’t concerned. Ashley would do as she was told and her girlfriend would return Lexi. This gave him the excuse he needed to drive to the casino and see if Lady Luck would smile on him.

ASHLEY WAITED UNTIL SHE HEARD Ryan’s Porsche roar out of the garage before she called Preston Block.

“Sorry it’s so late,” she apologized.

“Not a problem.” Preston didn’t bother to ask who it was. They spoke every day and instantly recognized each other’s voices.

“Ryan’s ex stomped in here tonight,” she told him. “Whitney thought we had her dog.”

“So? She couldn’t have found a thing. The dog’s right here beside me.”

“Ryan’s so smart. He figured out I was behind Lexi’s disappearance. He went ballistic. He insisted I have-” Ashley paused “-my girlfriend bring back the dog right away.”

Preston chuckled. “Your girlfriend? That’s a joke.”

“I didn’t tell him about you. He’s really upset and I didn’t want to make him any angrier.”

Preston didn’t respond. Ashley knew he had a thing for her, but she tried her best to ignore it. She needed a friend, not another man with the hots for her.

“Do something for me.” She hated the pleading tone in her voice, but what could she do? “Get that dog back right away.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. Please. Do it for me.”

Ashley hung up, then turned off the light, but she couldn’t sleep. She kept listening for the sound of Ryan’s car. He was so jumpy and angry lately that she didn’t know what to do. Something was bothering him. She tried to tell herself that it was the pressure of putting together a new practice, but now she wondered if that was all it was.

Ashley had to pull her hand away from the telephone. She was sorely tempted to try to reach her father. He lived in Bakersfield, not far north. Like Ryan, he was a man who worked for a living and owned his own business. He must know about stress. He might have some idea of how to handle Ryan.

But it had been years since she’d spoken to her father. He’d said he would always love her, but he’d left them. She was too proud to go sniveling to him. She could handle the situation.

THE TELEPHONE ON ADAM’S uncle’s desk rang, startling him and waking up Jasper, who’d been asleep at his feet. A quick glance at his watch told him it was nearly three-thirty in the morning. Who would be calling at this hour? The caller ID screen read: Marshall.