lizabeth decided to play hooky from work and she and Zach spent the day in bed. They were in love. At last, their feelings were out in the open and the knowledge set them free.

"I can't wait to tell my father," Zach said. He glanced at the clock. "It's only five. Let's go over to Willow Glen and tell him the news."

"Are you sure?"

"Damned sure." He cast her a glance. "Today's Friday. If we stop at the store for groceries, we won't have to leave the house all weekend."

She smiled at the warmth in his eyes, the desire mixed with love. She thought that sometime during the past two weeks, he had discovered what he really wanted in life and apparently he wanted her.

She felt like the luckiest woman on earth.

It was nearly six o'clock by the time they reached Willow Glen. Walking along the corridor holding hands, they paused outside Fletcher Harcourt's room. The door was open and Zach went in to announce their arrival. When Elizabeth joined them, she found the older man sitting in his wheelchair watching TV, a different man than he had been before.

"Dad, do you remember Liz?"

He studied her a moment, looking thoughtful. Then he smiled. "You were at the courthouse." He was a handsome man, as she had noticed the first time she met him, but now she sensed the powerful presence he had once been.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr. Harcourt."

Zach reached down and took hold of her hand, and his father's silver eyebrows went up.

"I take it you two have known each other for a while."

"Liz is a family counselor. We met out at Teen Vision several months ago, but I think I've been waiting for her all my life."

"That sounds promising. Don't tell me the Lone Wolf is finally thinking of settling down?"

Zach raised their linked hands to his lips. "We're getting married, Dad. Liz was crazy enough to say yes and I'm not letting her out of it."

His father's smile was wide and sincere. "Congratulations. When's the wedding?"

"Tomorrow isn't soon enough for me, but Liz wants something a little more personal than a trip to the courthouse."

"Just something small and private," she said. "And we want you to be there."

Fletcher reached out a steady hand and Zach clasped it. "I couldn't be happier for you, son."

"We're still talking about where we're going to live. I'm not one of those guys who believes in long-distance marriages. I was thinking maybe I'd take Jon Noble up on his offer and accept that job running our new branch in San Francisco. I don't think Liz would have much of a problem finding work up there, either. At least until we start raising kids."

His father nodded, looked absurdly pleased. "You couldn't have brought me better news. Now I've got something to look forward to. An even better reason to get well enough to get out of here."

A shadow appeared in the doorway. "What's that? You're not thinking of leaving Willow Glen, are you? It's far too soon for you to consider something like that."

Zach looked over at his brother. "Hello, Carson. You're just in time to hear the news."

"Really? And what news is that?"

"Liz and I are getting married."

Carson's lips flattened out. "Now that is news." He flashed Elizabeth a cool, knowing smile. "Exactly how long do you expect him to stick around after the wedding? Surely you don't think this is going to last more than a year."

Instead of the uncertainty Carson had hoped for, Elizabeth felt a shot of anger. "You don't know your brother, Carson. You never have."

Listening to his oldest son, Fletcher Harcourt's face turned red. "You've been jealous of your brother all your life. I kept hoping you'd grow out of it, but you never did." He glared at Carson and began to frown. Something shifted in his dark eyes, moved over his strong features.

"What is it, Dad?" Zach asked.

"I don't know. There's something in the back of my mind…It's right there but I can't seem to…" He shook his head as if he were trying to clear it, to catch hold of a distant memory. "I think it's something important but I can't quite latch on to it."

"It's okay, Dad," Zach said. "Eventually, it'll come back to you."

Fletcher continued to struggle, to wrestle with some hidden thought that refused to surface.

"Take it easy," Carson said. "What's happened in the past isn't important. Better you think about the future."

Fletcher looked up at his fair-haired son and his eyes widened in shock. "My God—I remember! I remember what happened the night of the accident!" He came half out of his chair, staring at Carson as if he were seeing a ghost. "I heard you—that night on the phone. We were both upstairs in our rooms. I didn't know the line was busy. When I picked up the receiver, I heard Jake Benson's voice coming over the wire."

Carson glared. "You can't possibly remember that. The doctor said with the kind of head trauma you suffered, the odds would be a thousand to one that you would recall anything at all about the incident."

"That so? Well, I remember Jake asking you for money, saying if you didn't pay him, he'd tell me the truth about the car wreck that sent Zach to prison. He said if you didn't come up with another fifty grand, he'd tell me what really happened—that it was you who was driving the car that night. You who swerved into the oncoming lane. You who killed that man, Carson. You! Not Zach!"

Zach's gaze swung to his brother, whose face had gone bone-white. "You were driving that night? You were the one who killed that guy?"

"You can't listen to him. He doesn't know what he's saying. H-he's still recovering from the surgery."

"Bullshit! He knows exactly what he's saying."

"That's right," Fletcher said. "You told Benson to come over to the house and you'd give him the money." Fletcher rose completely out of his chair, his legs shaking as he pointed wildly at Carson. "He had just walked through the front door when I confronted you about what I'd heard. Jake was standing in the entry when you pushed me down the stairs!"

* * *

In an instant, all of the pieces rolling around in Zach's head came together. Why Carson hadn't wanted their father to have the surgery—he was afraid Fletcher might remember what had happened the night he had nearly died.

Zach looked at Carson and another piece of the puzzle fell into place. "Son of a bitch—you killed him! You murdered Jake Benson and buried him under that house!"

"You're insane! You're as crazy as that old man."

"You lied all those years ago, and you're lying now. The night of the car wreck, you hadn't even been drinking. The law would have seen it as an accident and that would have been the end of it, but you would rather send an innocent man to jail than see your spotless reputation tarnished."

"None of that is true!"

"Isn't it? You sent me off to prison, but it wasn't over, was it? Jake knew what happened that night and he started milking you for money. I wonder how much you paid him before you finally killed him four years ago."

"I didn't pay him anything! You're talking nonsense."

"That's the reason you didn't want us hanging around the Santiago house. You were afraid someone might stumble onto Jake's corpse and that's exactly what happened."

"Benson left on his own. He got a job somewhere else."

"Where, exactly?"

"I don't know."

"You know exactly where Jake is because you put him there. You knew he wouldn't be missed. He had no family. He was just a working man, a guy who moved from job to job. Better to have him dead than have him tell the truth about the wreck and what you did that night to Dad. Better he be dead than blackmailing you for even more money."

Carson's eyes darted wildly from Zach to his father then back again. He started to say something but no words came out. Instead he turned and started running, his feet pounding off down the hall.

Zach tore after him, reaching him just as he turned the corner, tackling him and bringing him crashing to the ground.

"Get off me!" Carson rolled onto his back, trying to get away, but Zach grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him up. Carson began to struggle and Zach drew back his fist, aiming it at his brother's face.

"Give it up, Carson. The game is over." His fist tightened in warning. "I'm better at this than you are. You might as well face it. You aren't going to win this one."

Carson hesitated a moment, then his head fell back against the carpet. Zach relaxed his grip on the front of his brother's shirt and slowly rose to his feet.

"Call 911," he instructed the receptionist who was standing wide-eyed at the end of the hall. "Tell the sheriff that Carson Harcourt wants to talk to him." He looked down at his brother. "Isn't that right, Carson?"

Carson nodded, and Zach backed a couple of feet away. Even if Carson tried to run, there was really no place to go, and when Zach looked at him, he could almost see the wheels turning in his brother's head, planning his strategy, figuring the best way out.

"I'll let you handle this," Zach said to him. "Good luck."

Carson struggled to his feet, brushing off his sport coat, straightening the front of his shirt. "This isn't over," he said darkly.

"Actually, Carson, it is." Turning, Zach started walking. Down the hall, Elizabeth raced toward him. Zach met her halfway and pulled her straight into his arms.