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you thrive on. So whaf s stopping you?”
    “This crime involves lives. Lives of people you care about.”
    “That should motivate you, not frighten you off.”
    “I’m not frightened. I’m realistic. Locating a faceless, nameless assassin is not exactly my specialty.”
    “An assassin is nothing more than an exceedingly violent criminal. And understanding criminals’ minds is precisely how you manage to track them down.”
    “The criminals I track have names and faces,”Royce reminded him.”You’re talkingabout some thing entirely different.”
    “Surely you’ve met men who enjoy killing. All those years in the military—there must have been some soldiers who actually enjoyed pulling the trigger.”
    In response, Royce’s jaw set, his dark eyes guttering harshly. “I’ve met men who enjoy killing others and men who thrive on destroying others without actually killing them. And not just in the military. So, do I understand a mind-Eke this assassin’s? Yes. But you know the way I work, Damen. My tactics involve taking risks—big risks. I won’t jeopardize your wife’s life.”
    “Stacie’s life is already in jeopardy.”
    Silence.
    Damen slammed his glass to the desk. “Does this mean you refuse to help me?” Royce studied the naked pain on his friend’s face, swore quietly under his breath—and relented. “No. I’ll help you. I’ll do as much as I can. As much as you’ll let me,” he amended. “You might not like my ideas,ormy methods. Not when it comes to a matter this close to your heart.” “I’ll take that chance.”
    Nodding, Royce rifled through some pages on his desk. “The other problem I have is that I’m in the middle of another case—one I took on weeks ago. I can’t walk away from that.”
    “I wouldn’t ask you to. Handle both cases at once. Set up an office at Medford if you need to. Bring Hibbert. I don’t care. Just find this lunatic before he…” Damen bit off the rest of his sentence, too sickened to utter it.
    “He’s not a lunatic,” Royce countered quietly. “Let’s begin with that. At least not in the way you mean. He’s unbalanced, yes, but he’s very controlled, very methodical, very intelligent. He couldn’t be a professional assassin unless he was. He’s got to be thorough, well-organized, and have excellent timing. Which means his mind is quick, maybe even as quick as his pistol. To relegate him to the role of madman would be a grave error in judgment—one that could cost you dearly.” Royce’s lips pursed in thought. “I want to see that letter. And the dolls. I also want to talk to Lady Breanna, hear everything she remembers about the night her father was arrested, or rather,afterhe was arrested and the assassin showed up.” A wary stare. “Tell me about her.”
    “Who? Breanna?”
    “Yes. Is she fragile? Will I have an hysterical female on my hands? Is she a swooner, one who’ll collapse each time I ask a question that triggers a memory? Or is she a wailer, one who will drench three handkerchiefs before I find out everything I need to?”
    Despite the gravity of the situation, Damen couldn’t stifle a smile. “You don’t have a very high opinion of women, do you? Odd, considering, from what I’ve seen over the years, they have averyhigh opinion of you. They gravitate to you like flies to honey—until you tire of them and move on.”
    “On the contrary, I have a very high opinion of women. They’re ideal companions—both in bed and out—splendid conversationalists and, before you berate me for not giving your wife the credit she’s due, occasionally fine business partners. In fact, I often suspect that women are smarter than men—smart enough to know that it’s best to hide that fact from our easily shattered self-esteem. But when it comes to emotions, all that wisdom goes straight to hell. They whine, they weep, they cajole, they pout. When that happens, I become exasperated and walk away I’m not the comforting type. Nor