As she headed toward the sink, a woman turned around, reaching for a hand towel. They bumped into each other.
The purse Sam had borrowed slipped to the floor.
“Sorry,” the woman said, her blue eyes wide. She bent, her curtain of black hair sliding around her face as she picked up
the purse. “Didn’t see you there.” Her grip on the bag was firm.
Sam inclined her head. Special Agent Monica Davenport always had perfect timing. “No harm done.” The finger and the box were
inside that purse, covered by a plastic bag.
The exchange was made in less than ten seconds.
When Sam walked back out, her head was up, the bag
was hanging on her arm, and Max waited for her, a duffel bag gripped in each of his hands.
Her gaze darted to the bags.
“Let’s get out of here,” Frank said.
A guard stepped forward and led them to the door. Sam’s borrowed heels—way too tight—clicked on the floor. It seemed like
every eye was on them.
Frank had his personal guard with him. Jared Kinney doubled as his driver and his bodyguard. Sam had learned that Jared lived
at the Malone house, in an apartment above the garage.
Jared pushed open the door. Bright sunlight hit Sam in the eyes. In another hour, the sun would be setting. It had taken so
long for the bank manager to get that money ready. Too much daylight had already been lost.
But another phone call
had
to come that day. If the kidnappers followed their established routine, they would contact Max again soon.
They walked down the steps, slow and steady, not saying a word. Jared opened the door of the Cadillac for Frank. When the
older man was inside, Max handed off the duffel bags. Max’s Jeep waited on the other side of the road. He turned away.
But Frank grabbed his hand. “You’re coming back to the house?”
Max stared down at him.
“I
need
you. You have to stay ’til this mess is over.”
“I’ll be back.” Max eased away. Jared slammed the door. She and Max watched as the long car pulled away.
When the light changed, she and Max began to walk across the street. A slow, direct stride as—
A car’s engine roared to life.
Sam’s head whipped to the right. A small, black BMW headed straight for them, coming fast, so fast…
What the hell?
Her heart slammed into her ribs in a split-second of understanding. “
Run!
” The damn car was aiming right for them. Coming closer, faster, turning to follow them as they rushed across the nearly deserted
street.
No, not them. The car wasn’t aiming at
them
.
She shoved Max forward and felt the rush of air behind her as she launched after him. Sam slammed into Max, and they crashed
onto the cement. The smell of burnt rubber and blood filled her nose. She pushed upright as quickly as she could and turned
back to see the taillights on the car vanish as the BMW took a hard right and disappeared.
“
What the hell?
”
Sam glanced at Max. He was up on his knees and brushing off hands that dripped blood.
Just like hers did. The cement could be a real bitch. “We need to get off this street.
Now.
”
“Because some asshole ran the light?”
“No.” She grabbed his arm and all but jerked him toward the Jeep. “Because I’m pretty sure some asshole just tried to kill
you.”
T
he angel in the red dress came up to him in a cloud of perfume and sex. Adam Warrant blinked at her, took another long look,
and enjoyed the view. “Baby, where have you been all my life?”
She smiled at him and reached for his beer bottle. Pretty fingers. Long and pale. Blood-red fingertips traced the mouth of
his beer. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Those fingers circled the mouth of the beer again. “But I’m here now, Adam.”
His brows furrowed. The music was so damn loud. He could barely hear her. He leaned in closer and caught more of her scent.
Just like sex.
His cock throbbed. The top of her dress nearly showed her nipples. “Who are you?”
One more slow slide of her fingers around the top of the beer bottle, then down the neck, a caress, almost a pump.
He gulped.
Jesus
.
She handed him the beer, and her fingers pressed against his chest. “I’m the woman who’s going to give you a night you’ll
never forget.”
Adam smiled at that, then he drained his beer. “Promises, promises…”
Near hit and run. Almost took Max out. New game?
Luke shook his head as he read Sam’s text. “Kim, we’ve got a problem” A big problem. A hit and run wasn’t part of the MO.
“Hey!” Her voice came, high and tense, from right beside him. She had her phone pressed to her ear. “Ramirez is on the line.
He says a BMW nearly clipped Sam and Ridgeway at the bank on Pines!”
Ramirez. Their shadow guy on this case. He was watching Sam and Ridgeway, and he’d make sure no one saw him. “Yeah, I know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Did you know that Ramirez got the guy’s license plate?” Her fingers tapped on the nearest keyboard.
Luke stared over her shoulder as she pulled up the DMV access and typed in the numbers. It took less than five seconds for
the results to pop up. “I’ll be damned…” He muttered. The tag number matched the BMW registered to one Jeremy Briar. A car
that had been reported missing by his mother right before she’d been booked for killing her husband.
Jeremy’s car.
A car that his killers had just tried to use to run down another man.
But… why? Sure wasn’t good business sense. Dead men couldn’t pay ransoms.
“We need to talk about this,” Sam said when it became obvious that Max was just going to ignore the near hit-
and-run.
Ignore it
. Was the guy crazy? He’d almost been killed, and he hadn’t said a word.
They’d gone to his place and picked up fresh clothes and an overnight bag. They were nearly back at his stepfather’s, and
they
were
going to discuss the attack.
Sam saw his jaw clench. She swallowed back her own fear and fury and tried to sound calm. “Max…
someone aimed at you.
” Okay, not so calm. Forget calm.
“Why the hell would they want to hit me?” he demanded. The Jeep accelerated with a growl of sound.
That’s what she wanted to know. She didn’t like this situation. Not at all. The kidnappers had never made an attack like this.
Breaking the MO would mean trouble.
“You shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way,” he told her, his deep voice rumbling.
She fiddled with the seatbelt. “Well, if you moved faster, I wouldn’t have needed to push.”
His fingers curled around the steering wheel. “You made yourself a target out there. You should have hauled ass and gotten
out of the way, not worried about me.”
“Worrying about you is my job.” For now.
“That all it is?”
Sam blinked. “Wh-what?”
But he was turning the wheel and pulling into the long, winding drive that led up to the Malone house. A guard stood at the
gate, and when he saw Max he waved them through with a roll of his hand.
“I don’t get you,” Max said, easing the Jeep toward the house. “The FBI? Hell, no, I never would have pegged that for you.”
Why? Because she was weak? “It’s all I’ve ever done.” All she’d ever wanted to do.
He braked the vehicle and turned to face her. “And what? You get off on it? On tracking the killers? On seeing the bodies?”
Her breath sucked in. “
No
.”
“Why do it?”
“Because I know that some monsters are real.” God, how she knew that was true. When she closed her eyes, she saw her own monster.
“And they belong in cages, far away from innocent people.” Or they belonged in the ground. But she wasn’t supposed to say
that. Think it, yes, but the badge wouldn’t let her say it.
Max’s hand reached out, and his fingers caught a lock of her hair. “You think every killer belongs in a cage.” A darker tone
hardened his voice.
“My job is to stop killers. That’s what I do.” Sam unclipped the seatbelt but didn’t pull away from him. The sad truth was
that she liked the touch of his hand against her cheek.
But his hand fell away and his mouth tightened. “Everything’s black and white for you. You don’t have room for gray in your
world, huh?”
“Do you?” She fired back. “I saw your face when you found out I was with the FBI. You were pissed, Max.” No masking that look
of fury.
“I
am
pissed. You shouldn’t be here. You should be so damn far away from here…”
Way to make a girl feel wanted. “I’m not going anywhere.” The SSD wouldn’t let her, and besides, she wasn’t leaving him.
This was her time to be strong.
I can do this.
Hyde would be monitoring her every move. If she screwed up…
Well, Quinlan would be dead. Max would hate her. And she’d find her ass on the street.
No pressure.
“They’ll call tonight,” she said. The kidnappers always made contact again twenty-four hours after they took the vic. “They’ll
give you instructions for making the drop.”
“And you’ll tell your agents.” He killed the engine.
“Trust me, okay?” Yes, there was desperation creeping into her words. “The SSD won’t blow this. The agents will be far enough
away that no one will see them, but they’ll see everything. They’ll be able to track the kidnappers after the drop. They’ll
stop this. No one else will get hurt.”
“I want to believe you, baby.” His fingers closed around the keys, forming a strong fist. A fist with bruised knuckles courtesy
of that punch into the wall earlier. “But the thing is, I seem to have trouble trusting you.”
Sam kept her chin up. “Then don’t trust me, but listen to me. This isn’t my first case. This isn’t the SSD’s first case. We
bring down killers, and we bring victims back alive.” They’d brought her back.
His head cocked, and his eyes glittered. “Now why do I think you’re not being all that truthful with me? Some of the victims,
they don’t come back, do they?”
She turned away from him and shoved open the door. Cold air hit her like a slap, but it was what she needed. Sam hurried forward,
determined to get inside the house.
“
Samantha.
”
She froze at Max’s voice. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he followed behind her. Then he was there, catching her fingers,
and curling his own around them. “You never know who’s watching, baby.” A sensual reminder, one with an edge of steel.
She glanced over, her eyes slanted toward him.
“I don’t really know you.” His head leaned down, and his lips brushed against hers. A lover’s caress. “But then, you don’t
really know me, either.” A warning.
His mouth pressed tight against her lips. Hard, insistent.
She opened her mouth for him. Not because someone might be watching, but because she wanted to kiss him, and screw anyone
out there. Let them watch. Their tongues met. They tasted. And the cold seemed to fade away.
Back with him.
In his arms. Her heart beat faster, and her sex began to moisten. In his bed, she hadn’t needed to pretend. She didn’t have
to lie about being strong. In bed, it was just bodies, needs.
Man.
Woman.
Rain began to fall on them, softly at first. Little drops that tapped on her skin, then harder, steadier as the storm that
had threatened all day finally came calling.
Max’s head rose, and he stared down at her with water on his eyelashes and drops sliding down his cheeks. She tasted the rain
on her tongue, and she still tasted him.
“Max!” A woman’s cry. High and frantic.
Sam’s head turned. Beth stood in the entranceway, waving. “The phone!” Beth shouted, “It’s—”
They ran for her.
Max beat Sam inside, and Beth pointed down the hallway. “Frank—he’s in his study. They called his cell. I-I know it’s them…”
Sam’s shoes squeaked and the water dripped onto the expensive tile as she raced for the study.
“Yes, I damn well got your
proof
,” Frank shouted into
the phone, and Sam shut the study door, securing them inside. “Now you listen, and you listen good—”
He broke off, and Sam saw his eyes narrow. His thick Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “I thought you wanted… five million.”
His gaze darted to Max. Another hard swallow. “No, I
don’t
need another delivery. I’ll pay, you bastard, just don’t hurt him anymore!” Frank ran a shaking hand through his hair.
A victim.
That’s what Fuck ’em Frank had become. Afraid. Desperate. He didn’t like being this way. She could see the fight in his eyes,
but he didn’t have a choice, and he didn’t know what to do.
Sam looked away. She didn’t like seeing the victims. Couldn’t seem to deal with them anymore. Luke was great with them. He
could always put them at ease and get every bit of witness testimony from them. The victims just made her feel…
weak. Because I’m one of them?
“When.” The word snapped out from Frank like a command, but broke like a plea. The age spots on the back of his hand stood
out in stark contrast to his white-knuckled grip on the phone. “I-I’ll have to go to the bank again. I’ll go and…” He broke
off, listening. “Yes, he’s here.”
They want you.
Frank mouthed the words to Max.
“We’ll make the delivery.” Frank’s gray eyes darted to her face. “Just the two of us, you have my-my word.” His shoulders
slumped, and he ended the call.
Sam advanced on him. She took his phone and used caller ID to find the kidnapper’s number. The number was listed this time.
The guy hadn’t blocked the number for this call. Damn odd. Their kidnappers seemed too smart for a slip like this.
But everyone screws up….
Sam took out her phone and immediately texted the number to Luke.
“They want ten million now.” Frank sounded lost. “
Ten
million. Bastard said the price went up because it took us so long to get to the bank.”
“He’s playing you.” Sam typed fast.
10 million.
“The ransom was always going to be ten million.”