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CHAPTER ONE

Connie West was an excellent navigator She could find her way through a fog bank at thirty thousand feet with nothing more than an altimeter and a compass She could plot a course across three states with just a paperplanes with the latest GPS co field at night with nothing more than her oo eyes

And she could also, unfortunately, always find her way to the roughest, dirtiest ga den in any city in the world She'd had a lot of practice at that one

She'd never been to the English seaside city of Brighton before, but it only took her an hour of searching its narrow back streets before she found the sort of bar she was looking for She knew she'd coht place by the way the room fell absolutely silent the moment she opened the door

The only patrons in the place were a slasses frozen halfway to their mouths Connie flinched as their suspicious stares assessed every inch of her ample body

As one, the bar patrons see young woht jacket was unlikely to be an undercover cop The low buzz of muttered conversations resumed as the men turned back to their drinks and cards

Breathing a sigh of relief, Connie edged her way to the bar “Excuse me? Sir?”

“Well, you certainly aren't from around here” The shaven-headed bartender didn't look up froht word for what he was doing with his gray, greasy dishcloth “I think you've taken a wrong turn, Yankee girl”

“I' for someone” Connie showed him the orn photo she always carried with her “Very tall, very loud, very Irish?”

The bartender's eyes flicked from the photo to her face momentarily “No idea”

Connie fu out a twenty “You sure about that?”

The bartender gave her a long, thoughtful look Connie put the twenty down on the bar, keeping her finger on it

With a shrug, the bartender jerked his head in the direction of a door at the back of the bar “You could try in there Though if I were you, I'd go straight back home instead”

Connie sighed “Boy, do I wish I could”