Not surprising. The whole world seemed hooked on that shit.

The two lower file drawers actually held files. McGill had written the contents on each. “Property Papers.” “Taxes.” “Medical.” “Credit Cards.” The usual. Sadie picked through the contents of each manila folder.

A sound announced that the computer was now unlocked. She moved the mouse, lighting up the screen. One by one, she read through McGill’s emails. There weren’t that many. McGill had deleted anything older than a month, and then she’d emptied her trash. She’d also cleared her search history.

“Savvy lady,” Sadie muttered.

Clearly, Tara McGill wasn’t the airheaded blonde she pretended to be.

Other than the apps, only one folder existed on the desktop. The label read “Files.” Sadie attempted to open the folder, but it was password protected.

Sadie ran the security breaker app again. Didn’t work. She had McGill’s username and password, which allowed her to view the stored usernames and passwords for websites and apps. But not for the “Files” folder. McGill appeared to have everything backed up on a cloud, which might work to Sadie’s advantage. She could pass what she had along to her computer guy, and he would most likely find a way in. He’d never failed her before. She doubted this security system was anything he hadn’t encountered in his long history of hacking.

A five-year stint in prison had only sharpened his skills. He’d met all sorts of other geeks. The powers that be should consider what those sorts of geniuses could do when they put their heads together.

Sadie removed the thumb drive and slipped it into her pocket. She went into the adjoining bath and found nothing but hand soap on the counter and toilet paper on the wall-mounted holder. Toilet tank held only water.

Sadie moved on to McGill’s bedroom. The search in here would take considerably longer. The woman had a lot of clothes. Her walk-in closet looked as if she’d decided to start her own boutique. Sadie went through the most likely places first. In the ventilation duct. Under the mattress and the bed. In and under the drawers. On the backs of the pieces of furniture. She found another stash of oxy in a makeup compact and lots and lots of silky, racy lingerie.

Sadie progressed to the closet. The door was an in-swing louvered style, allowing for airflow into the large closet. Starting on the left, she checked one article of clothing after the other. Thankfully, there weren’t a lot of pockets other than in her jeans and the few pairs of slacks.

A sound . . . a solid thud froze Sadie in place. The door. Front door. Then McGill’s frustrated swearing preceded her up the stairs.

Sadie turned off the light and burrowed into the row of dresses near the corner, where the door would block her if McGill came into the closet. She twisted her sneakered feet to the side and hoped that would be enough.

McGill stopped at her home office first. Sadie closed her eyes and restrained a groan. Had the computer gone dark by now? Most people set them to go dark after ten or so minutes of inactivity. If that was the case, Sadie was safe. The screen would be black. She’d been in the bedroom a half hour at least. But if the setting was much longer . . .

Hurried steps rushed into the hall. Sadie held her breath. McGill entered the bedroom. Sadie heard her moving around the room, swearing under her breath every few seconds. She couldn’t see what she was doing but assumed McGill was searching for something she’d forgotten.

Couldn’t be anything important, because Sadie hadn’t found anything important.

McGill walked into the closet, all the way to the far end—the end Sadie hadn’t reached yet—and began to rifle through the garments hanging there. The sound of hangers swiping across the metal rod prodded Sadie’s pulse into a rapid fire.

Only two or three feet from Sadie, McGill stopped.

“Here you are.” She removed a garment from its place and hurried out of the closet.

Sadie dared to inhale a deep breath.

McGill abruptly rushed back through the door. “For fuck’s sake,” she griped as she walked through the closet again. The sound of fabric rustling and then a “Now.”

It wasn’t until Sadie heard the front door slam again that she relaxed and emerged from the rack of fabric. A quick glance around told her McGill had taken a pair of shoes in addition to whatever garment she’d grabbed. The empty spot was where a pair of red high heels had been resting, waiting their turn to show off the owner’s sleek ankles and toned legs.

When she’d finished in the closet, Sadie moved to a window that looked out over the street and verified that McGill’s Corolla was gone before going downstairs. She quickly went through the rooms on the first level. Discovered McGill’s workout gear in a large closet intended for coats.

The downstairs search was carried out the same as the one on the second level and yielded nothing other than the name of the gym McGill used. There could be a locker there. Something else to add to her list of places to check out.

When Sadie was sure the coast was clear, she exited the town house, locked the door, and walked casually to her car. As she drove away, she called Wesley Bryant, better known as Snipes. She’d given him that nickname after the first few times they’d worked together. Every damned time she had required his services and made the call, the man had been in the middle of watching a Wesley Snipes movie.

Snipes was glad to hear from her—no matter that she called only when she needed his help—ASAP, of course. He had plenty of other customers, but he was always happy to put Sadie at the front of the line.

Loyalty was a characteristic she greatly appreciated and found all too rarely.

Taylor Residence

Eighteenth Avenue South

Birmingham, 3:00 p.m.

Sadie gave a nod to the new guy, Tim Barton, as she walked past his car. She’d had to bring in another set of eyes to keep up the surveillance on Naomi’s house. It was the least she could do. She should have done more before Asher had ended up shot in the back of the head.

Regret pierced her. Sadie rarely allowed herself to feel any sort of emotion, but this she couldn’t keep at bay. She cleared her head and focused on the here and now. Naomi Taylor was never less than happy to see Sadie. The feeling was mutual. Sadie didn’t like a lot of people, but she liked Naomi.

The bag she’d brought clutched in one hand, Sadie knocked on the door with the other and waited for the woman to answer. After a second knock, the locks rattled and the door opened.