“It’s considered one of the most boring jobs to have, Kara,” Paul told me in an amused voice through the tiny receiver tucked into my ear. “Can you blame them for letting loose when they have the chance?”

“Yeah, well, the guy whose hand ‘let loose’ up my skirt is sporting some cracked metatarsals now,” I said. My stomp reaction had been swift and instinctive, and I’d slipped away through the press of the crowd while the assailant whined in pain. He probably never even realized the sweet blond thing had a bite. Okay, maybe there was a little ass-kicking.

Luckily I didn’t have to worry about breaking character until I got outside. Nobody in here would ever think I was pretending to be Amaryllis Castlebrook—if any of them even knew her in the first place. To them I was simply another partying teleco-whatever on the first night of what was probably a deathly dull training seminar.

“Serves the jerk right, Kara,” Paul said, then added, “It’s the dress. Even I think you look smokin’ hot. And you look really good with blond hair.”

I hid a grin and pretended to take a sip of my drink. Paul was right—the dress rocked, even if I did have to pad the curves a bit. “Maybe I’ll try blond highlights once all this is done,” I said, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone, since I’d learned it was interpreted as an invitation to come annoy me. “I’m ready to ditch the wig, though. It itches. And I think one of the bobby pins has worked its way through my skull.”

Paul chuckled. “I’ll get you a purple heart, Kara.”

“Hey, Paul? What’s with the sudden obsession with my name?”

He cleared his throat. “Orders from above,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Eilahn and Zack and Mzatal want me to keep, er, reminding you who you are.”

A warm fuzzy glow started somewhere in my middle, and I felt a silly grin spread across my face. “Y’all are so fucking awesome it’s stupid.”

“It’s a posse thing, Kara,” he said with a laugh. I heard some soft beeps in the background, and when he spoke again he was all business. “Got the ping from Ryan. Amaryllis is safe and away, and all’s clear.” Earlier the two FBI agents had gently scooped up Ms. Castlebrook as she stepped out of her hotel room, leaving me to be her doppelganger at the cocktail party.

“And now I have Sonny’s signal,” he continued. “He’s on the corner half a block down, waiting for you.” He paused. “Good luck, Kara.”

“Thanks, Paul,” I murmured. I glanced at my watch. Nine p.m. Amaryllis was going to make an early night of it. “Here goes everything.” I set my drink on a side table and slipped through the crowd to the door, my little Keltec a comforting weight in the thigh holster. Having Paul in my ear was another major comfort. He was coordinating the entire operation from his tablet for portability, and he’d rigged up everyone with nifty communicators like mine. All except for Mzatal, since he received annoying bursts of static any time he manipulated potency. The plan was for Paul to stay pretty much glued to Mzatal’s side for this thing, so it hopefully wouldn’t make any difference that the Boss wasn’t wired up.

Exiting the restaurant, I faked a slight stumble on the bottom step as if I was a little intoxicated—after first making sure no one nearby was looking my way. Last thing I wanted was for someone to offer to walk me back to the hotel, either out of kindness or with more insidious intent in mind. Either way, they’d no doubt end up hurt. My performance was for the two men waiting down the street. They were watching, I knew, even if I couldn’t see them yet.

The hotel was around the corner and half a block down. I looped my purse over my shoulder, headed down the sidewalk, and did my best to act relaxed and oblivious.

“Sonny’s ahead and to your right, Kara,” Paul told me, no doubt watching my progress through hacked security and traffic cameras in addition to monitoring my location via my GPS trackers.

“Got it,” I murmured. I stepped off the curb to cross a well-lit corner parking lot, bordered by manicured bushes and colorful flower beds. Just the sort of place a naïve girl would let her guard down. Moreover, it made perfect sense for a woman wearing heels to cut through the lot. Sonny sure as hell knew his business.

Sonny, appearing utterly harmless and seeming to pay absolutely no attention to me, stood near the exit to the street, looking at nothing in particular as he spoke on his phone. As I made my way across the mostly empty lot, I noted his approach in my peripheral vision, but only because I was totally expecting it.

“Hey, hon’?” he said in a voice pitched with concern. I feigned a startle and an appropriately wary look, but the gentle smile he turned on me would have disarmed a Navy SEAL. “You’d better be careful. Looks like you’ve had too much to drink.” He took a step closer. “Where’s your car? I’ll help you.”

In the shadows by the building a lanky man in a dark suit leaned against a white Lexus SUV, and I only noticed him because I knew he’d be there. Jerry Steiner, the man who’d brutally raped Amber before Katashi murdered her.

I kept my gaze away from him though, and stayed in my role. “Um, I’m fine thanks,” I said, adding in a shy little bite of my lower lip. “My hotel’s right down the street.” I let out a girlish titter, then had to clamp down on a scowl as Paul snorted in laughter. I turned away and continued walking through the lot, more than a little curious about how Sonny expected to pull off a quiet abduction in a place that was still somewhat public.

“You sure you’re okay to walk that far?” Sonny fell into step beside me and touched my arm, and not in a skeevy way. In fact, a sensation of calm flowed over me. I felt relaxed, not at all nervous or worried or feeling any need to be cautious. Ohhhhh, now, that’s damn interesting.

“I only had one glass of wine,” I told Sonny, utterly fascinated by his effect. The dude was like a walking pygah. It wasn’t something that lulled me into somnolence or fogged my thinking, either. I still had no problem assessing my situation and locating threats. If anything, my focus was sharper, simply because I was so calm.

But I knew exactly what was going on here. Turn that pygah-mojo on an unsuspecting mark, and they wouldn’t stand a chance. And Farouche’s merchandise arrives in good condition and not completely freaked out.

Sonny caught my elbow. “I think you had more than one,” he said, maintaining the same calm tone. He too was playing a role. He had to follow the typical mode of operation to the letter to keep Jerry from getting suspicious. In other words, I thought, this is exactly how he grabbed all of those other women.

He leaned close and lowered his voice, though I knew there was a chance his partner could still hear. “Listen to me,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me trouble. Even think about making a sound, and I’ll drop you.” He shifted his other hand to show the stun gun in it. “You’re going to get in the backseat of my car, nice and quiet.”

You stun gun me and I will kick your ASS, I thought, but I widened my eyes in shock and got into the role. “Wh-what? No . . . no!”

The calm flowed over me. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and with the words came a sense that he truly meant it. He didn’t want to hurt me. Everything would be alllll right if I simply did as he asked. “But I will if I have to,” he continued, and I beliieeeeved that as well.

Utterly amazed and truly impressed, I didn’t resist as he walked me quickly to the car. Jerry pulled the back door open, and when Sonny told me to slide on in, I complied. Beige leather seats and side windows tinted to near black. They didn’t want anyone seeing what happened in the back of this vehicle. That explains the choice of an SUV, the ex-cop part of me considered. Legally, back side windows of a sedan were required to allow twenty-five percent light in. No such law for vans and SUVs.