Then she snapped her fingers. Trevor!

How could she not have thought of this? She picked up her phone again and speed-dialed her brother. He’d always said he had contacts. Maybe they could dig around. When he didn’t pick up, she called her parents’ farm. Zoe answered the phone.

“Hi Mom. Is Trevor there?”

“No, he had to leave suddenly.”

“For what?”

“He said it was classified.” Ginger could imagine her mother rolling her eyes. Trevor threw that around so many times that they weren’t sure if it was for real or a code word for “I don’t want to talk bout it.”

“Did he say when he was coming back?” Trevor didn’t answer his phone or check voice mail when he was on his “classified” assignments.

“No. Are you all right, Ginger? You sound harried.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “I just remembered something I had to tell him, but it’s not urgent. I’ll wait until he’s back. Love you.”

“Love you too, dear.”

Ginger tapped her finger on the edge of her phone. Another bust. What should she do next? Just cold call a few investigators and see? But the really good ones didn’t work for just anybody. She’d heard rumors that even Justin Sterling had had to get an introduction at one point.

She called Debbie. “Hey, can we meet?” Debbie was her last hope.

“I’m in downtown right now. You want to meet for coffee or something?”

“Sure.”

“Actually let’s have dim sum. I didn’t eat lunch, and I’m starving.”

“Okay, that’s fine, too.”

“Meet me at Golden Dragon in half an hour or so then. If I get there early I’ll order for you.”

Ginger put the envelope back into her purse and drove to the restaurant. Debbie liked it because it had fabulous Chinese food, and most importantly, she got to eat free there since it was owned by one of her second cousins. The place was gorgeously appointed in rich gold and red and dragon motifs. The hostess recognized Ginger and led her immediately to the private dining room in the back.

Debbie was in a cute sunflower yellow dress with spaghetti straps. Expertly pedicured toes peeked through her matching sandals. She pushed her shoulder-length black hair back when she noticed Ginger and gestured at the empty high-backed chair. “I just got here. Finished my soup. The lobster’s very good today.”

“Is lobster ever not good?” Ginger took the seat. It was amazing how much food Debbie ate and still managed to stay thin.

Debbie chortled. “True.” Her sharp gaze zeroed in on Ginger’s face. “So what’s up? You don’t look like a carefree, ‘I’m in love’ kind of woman. I thought you reconciled with Shane?” She glanced at the ring on Ginger’s finger.

“We did, and it was great, but that’s not why I wanted to see you.” She pulled out the photos inside and explained what they were. And how she couldn’t trace anything back to the sender.

Debbie stared at the pictures. “They’re really good. Wow. They look so authentic.”

“That’s the problem. I think they’re the reason Shane pulled that disappearing act.”

Debbie’s head snapped up. “Damn. That sucks. Why didn’t he say something?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he just freaked out. You know his family history. And these pictures… Shane probably looked for signs of manipulation and couldn’t find any.” He was a talented photographer himself and knew what good photoshopping could do.

Debbie scowled. “So you can’t tell if they’re photoshopped either?”

“If they were of somebody else, I would’ve thought they were real.”

“Eeek.” She rested her chin in her hand. “What do you want to do?”

“I want to find the person who did this.” Ginger explained what she’d tried. “So it looks like I’ll have to hire a pro for the job, and I’d like your help.”

“How?”

“You guys have an investigator on retainer, don’t you?”

“Yeah, we do, for vetting new employees and other stuff. But I don’t know the guy personally. He only deals with Dad. I’ll ask when I call him tonight.” Debbie scowled. “But the guy might be really expensive. Dad likes to splurge—you get what you pay for, blah blah blah blah blah.”

“I’ve got the money,” Ginger said. Dane had paid her plenty.

“Okay. I can’t promise anything…but hey, if Dad says no, we’ll find somebody else. It doesn’t matter.” Debbie narrowed her eyes. “I want to know what bastard did this to you, so I can set them on fire and watch them burn.”

Ginger hugged her friend. “You’re the best.”

* * *

“Ginger!”

His breaths came out in white puffs in the frosty air. He could barely make out anything in the darkness, but the way his voice echoed said the place was barren.

The sound of breathing grew louder as he ran. His heartbeat increased, each da-dum louder that the one before.

Where was she? He was so damn alone…

Finally he saw someone not too far ahead. He ran toward the figure, knowing it was Ginger. Nobody else was in the dark place except her.

She was standing in a puddle. Ginger turned her head slowly, her gaze unfocused and dim. She didn’t smile or wave. Her arms dangled by her sides, and there was a wet red stain on her thin, white dress. His gut twisted as he saw it was blood. “Ginger…”

The pale skin over her collarbone split. More blood spilled out.

“Oh my god, Ginger.” He reached out for her, pulled her close.

She didn’t make a sound, but more of her skin peeled open like an invisible knife was being pulled across her.

Fear chilled him. He held onto her, tightening his arms around her. “Stop!” he screamed, but more lacerations appeared on her skin and face. “Ginger!”

“Shane…?” she whispered. “It hurts.”

“Somebody help!” Panic bubbled in his throat. “Help!”

“Help!” Shane jackknifed into a sitting position…then blinked at the bright light shining into his eyes. He put a hand over them. Sweat filmed over his body, and his heart was beating fast and hard.

What the hell had that been? It didn’t feel like a lost memory coming back.

He buried his head in his hands, his heart starting to slow. Stupid nightmare.

He looked around.

Alone.

“Ginger?” he called out. “Ginger?”

No answer. Panic re-spiked his pulse. He rolled to his feet, bumping into the table. The empty pizza box and napkins fell on the floor, but he ignored them. “Ginger, where are you?”

He looked everywhere. Where was she? Was she okay?

There had been so much blood. He ran a hand over his face, trying to regain some perspective. It was just a nightmare. Not real. She was probably fine. He dialed her number.

“Hey, Shane,” Ginger said.

“Where are you?”

“I’m out. With Debbie. Are you okay?”

Was he okay? He stared at his shaking hand. Jesus. He clenched it and dragged in some air. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“I left you a note on the pizza box.”

“You did? Uh, yeah. I didn’t see it. I…” He swallowed. “I was just worried.” Who was Debbie? Oh yeah… Ginger’s best friend. “Okay then. Have a good time. When are you coming back?”

“Not sure yet. I have a lot of work to catch up on since I took so much time off. Even when I’m not working for clients, I have paperwork and stuff.”

He wanted to see her now, to make sure she was okay, but he also didn’t want her to see him like this. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.” He hung up and tossed the phone on the counter and rested his elbows on it, burying his face in his hands. Had he always overreacted after bad dreams? What an embarrassment.

Or was it just that particular dream? Jesus, it had felt real! He could still smell Ginger’s blood.