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“Tell me what’s going on,” Tate demanded.

Stephanie didn’t look at him. “Bittman wants something from me.” She turned her face to his, and he saw for the first time the gleam of tears there.“He drove my brother off the road and took Dad.”

“I’m sorry.” For one crazy moment, he wanted to wrap her up in an embrace. “How does it fit together? What is Bittman after?”

“I can’t tell you any more.”

He folded his arms. “I want to know what’s going on, and you’re going to tell me.”

Her eyes glittered. “I wasn’t supposed to get anyone involved, or he’ll kill my father.”

“Too late. I’m involved.”

Her eyes grew cold. “No you’re not, Tate,” she said as she pushed by him, leaving a tantalizing whiff of the cinnamon fragrance she always wore.

Why, he wondered, could he pass through his day without remembering so much as what he had for lunch—but he could recall every detail of Stephanie’s face after seeing her for only a few moments in the past four years?

Dangerous Melody

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