Free Play Dead by Meryl Sawyer Page A

God, she couldn’t lose him, too.
    “Wasn’t he in the car?”
    “No. I didn’t want to board him. My neighbors volunteered to take him for two weeks to their place on Bass Lake. I knew Andy would love it.”
    “Good,” Ryan responded. She thought he looked unusually relieved, considering it was her dog.
    “You thought Andy was in the car when it exploded?” She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the golden retriever blown to bits. This just kept getting worse and worse. She was having difficulty putting it all together. Weary from a long plane ride, Hayley didn’t seem to be able to think as clearly as usual. All this seemed to be abad dream. Surely she would wake up and things would be the way they’d been when she’d left sunny Costa Rica.
    Estevez had offered her a contract to do murals in several of his hotels. That, combined with the art Ian was selling in his gallery, meant she could start her life over—doing what she loved. Now this.
    “The lab found canine fur in the debris. What were they supposed to conclude?”
    Hayley tried for a laugh, but it sounded more like a witchy cackle. “I haul Andy everywhere with me. Friends call it ‘the fur mobile’ because it smells like a rolling kennel. The backseat has a dog liner but Andy sheds a lot.”
    A blue-white bolt of lightning followed by a crack of thunder that rocked the loft made Hayley flinch. She rose and walked over to the bank of windows facing the bay. With the power out and clouds obscuring the moon, there wasn’t much to see, just rain beating a tattoo against the wall of glass. The fresh scent of rain filtered into the loft.
    Lindsey dead. Someone might have wanted to kill her. Hayley was having difficulty keeping her mind on track but she did realize her life would never be the same. Hot salty tears welled up in her eyes and ran down her cheeks like the rain against the glass.
    Unexpectedly, the lights came on across the cove at the Blue Water Grill. She heard the snick of a lamp as Ryan turned on a light in the loft. She wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, then turned to face Ryan.
    Her eyes swept across her loft. Everything had been shoved out of place and the surfaces were covered with a charcoal-colored dust. “Oh, my God! What happened?”
    “The Task Force searched your place, dusted for prints.” He walked toward her. “Searched for evidence.”
    If she’d had any lingering doubts about him makingthis up, they evaporated. The loft had been thoroughly tossed and dusted. Now she realized the acrid smell was the fingerprint powder. She watched Ryan as he strode over to her.
    Ryan Hollister was nothing if not sexy. He had an effortless masculinity that must be irresistible to most women. Where had that thought come from—at a time like this? Considering what she was going through, it was unnerving to realize she was attracted to this man. But she couldn’t deny the ripple of heat that swept through her body as Ryan halted in front of her. Close. Way too close.
    Now that the lights were on, she had a better look at him than just an initial impression. Evidently, the Hollisters had Nordic ancestors. That would account for their height and masculine jawlines. And Viking-blue eyes. His gaze met hers and Hayley suddenly felt light-headed. What was wrong with her?
    “Do you understand how serious this is, how much danger you’re in?”
    “Yes,” she whispered. It had been dawning on her by degrees, but seeing the physical state of her loft made it too real. The hollow ache in her chest would not go away. She was in terrible trouble and didn’t know what to do about it.
    “Let me help you.” He looked into her eyes with an intimacy she found disturbing. “I’m a pro. I have contacts.”
    The air was fraught with tension and an undercurrent of something she couldn’t define. Maybe this situation was too much for her and she was merely imagining things.
    “Can’t the police—”
    “Come on. I have an idea.” He