Navy SEAL Security. Carol Ericson

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      The beach girl had been checking him out. And he liked it.

      Riley’s fingers plowed through his long hair. “You plan to report a murder on the beach with no body. Your ex-boyfriend is dead on your kitchen floor with no signs of a struggle or break-in. Why is he your ex? Bad breakup?”

      “No. Yes.” She folded her arms across her stomach. “He lied to me about being married.”

      Riley whistled through his teeth. “Do you have a history of violence?”

      “Not yet.” Amy clenched her fists and took a step toward him.

      “I’m just sayin’.” A strange sense of relief flooded his veins. He knew a valiant woman like Amy wouldn’t knowingly get mixed up with a married man.

      “Do you think they’ll suspect me of murdering Carlos? I’m pretty strong, but not strong enough to strangle a man. I broke it off as soon as I discovered his marital status. Why would I kill him and then call the cops? It would look much worse if I ran out now, wouldn’t it?”

      She covered her face with her hands, and guilt stabbed his belly. He didn’t want her to feel worse. He wanted to smooth everything over and make sure she kept safe after he left.

      He tripped over the wet suit as he rushed to her side and curled an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him. Her T-shirt felt soft against his bare chest, brushing a tingle of desire along his skin.

      Her salty hair tickled his lips as he spoke. “Just tell the truth. You’ll be fine. There’s no evidence that you killed Carlos even if the police find your story unbelievable.”

      “C-can’t you stay and talk to the cops with me?” She clutched his arm, her nails digging into his skin.

      “I wish I could help you out, beach girl, but I can’t afford the time if they decide to arrest me.” He couldn’t afford the exposure either. Having his picture splashed all over the newspapers in connection with two murders would torpedo any chance he’d have to follow his lead on the Velasquez Cartel and any of its customers.

      And right now the Velasquez lead was the only thread they had in connection with Jack Coburn’s disappearance.

      Amy took a shaky breath and stepped back. “You’re not going to tell me anything else, are you?”

      “No.”

      “Then you’d better get ready to leave so I can call 911. I can’t bear to be here with Carlos like that.” Her bottom lip quivered, and her dark eyes brimmed with unshed tears.

      Riley cupped her face with one hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m sorry about Carlos. What do you think he was doing here?”

      At his touch, she’d closed her eyes, but now her eyelids flew open, droplets of tears trembling on the edges of her long lashes. “Huh?”

      “Carlos. Why was he in your house and how did he get in? Did you give him a key?”

      “I gave him a key once to feed my cat when I was gone for the weekend. But he gave it back to me.”

      “He made a copy.”

      Her eyes widened. “He wouldn’t do that.”

      “Really? The man entered your home while you were at work. I thought you broke up with him a few months ago?”

      “I did.” She wiped her palms on the thighs of her jeans.

      “Did he contact you after the breakup?”

      “A few times but…” Her arms flailed at her sides.

      “Face it, Amy. The guy never got over you. He probably came here hoping he could change your mind. Didn’t work out too well for him.”

      She dug her fists in her hips. “The back door is in the kitchen. You can leave before the cops get here.”

      “If he made a copy of your key, it’s probably still in his pocket. Do you want me to take it?”

      “So you can have a key to my place? No, thanks. Why would I want you to take the key? I don’t want to disturb a crime scene.”

      “Too late for that. You changed clothing and you didn’t notify the police as soon as you discovered the body.” He shrugged. “I’m just thinking it might look better for you if the dead ex-boyfriend didn’t still have a key to your house.”

      “Okay. You know what?” She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the kitchen. “There’s the back door. Use it.”

      Instead he crouched next to the body and slid his hand into the front pocket of the man’s expensive slacks. His nostrils flared at the sweet scent emanating from his clothing. Carlos liked his cologne strong.

      Nothing in that pocket except a few bills. Riley reached for the other pocket, but he didn’t have to go digging. Carlos’s keychain was on the floor by the pocket. Riley’s fingers closed around the silver ring and he dangled it from his index finger.

      “Is this your key?” A removable ring was hanging from the main keychain, and he shook it in front of Amy’s face.

      “It could be. What difference does it make? Now you’ve corrupted the crime scene even more. Put it back and get out, and maybe you should leave some more of your fingerprints around here so the cops can identify you… Riley…if that’s even your name.”

      “I didn’t touch anything in here.” He twirled the keychain around his finger. “Except you.”

      Amy’s eyes glittered, shooting gold sparks, but a soft rose color swept across her cheeks. Stepping behind him to avoid the body on the floor, she grabbed the knob to the back door. She turned quickly, her hair whipping across his chest. “What will you do for clothes?”

      Still clutching the keychain, Riley adjusted the waistband of his board shorts while her gaze tracked his movements feeling like a whisper of fingertips. “We’re a mile from the beach—nothing unusual about someone walking around in swim trunks. If you give me a couple of bucks for the bus, that would make my life a lot easier.”

      “Gladly.” She slipped past him and snagged her backpack from the coffee table where she’d dropped it. She groped inside a side compartment and gasped. “My wallet.”

      “It’s gone?”

      “It must’ve fallen out in the sand when I grabbed my pack from the tower.”

      “That explains how the bad guys found you.”

      “But how’d they get here so fast?” She hugged the backpack to her chest.

      “The men who killed Carlos aren’t the same men who shot at us on the beach. This is an organization, not a few petty crooks.”

      She swayed and he caught her. “Are you sure you don’t want to get out of here with me?” Riley asked.

      “No. I want to call the police. Th-they’ll keep me safe.”

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