Cain had chosen his lifestyle. He thrived on the challenge. No drug, he told himself, could produce the physical or emotional high of a successfully completed mission. No drug and no woman. Then why was he standing on a cold San Francisco pierlike alovelorn teenager, hoping for a glimpse of Linette Collins? And then he saw her. For a moment it felt as if someone had hit him against the back of his head. He went stock-still. She stood in line at a fish and chips place. The wind whipped her hair about her face and she lifted a finger to wrap a thick strand of dark hair behind her ear. The smart thing to do was to turn around, and walk away as fast as his feet would carry him. He´d gotten what he wanted. One last look at her. His curiosity should be satisfied. But even as his mind formulated the thought, Cain knew that just seeing Linette again wasn´t enough.
