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  Kian slammed his foot on the break, and his car slid to a stop outside the Harris Teeter and he jumped out. Within a matter of seconds, he had his weapon in his hand and approached the store. Taggert moved to his side, and other vehicles arrived with agents joining him and his partner. He knew more covered the back of the store. They swarmed on the establishment, and a few customers shrieked. Kian picked up the calls of “Clear!” around the store. He left Taggert to coordinate the employees and the customers at the front while he and a couple of agents searched the back.

  They’d tracked Evie’s phone to this location, and the personnel responsible for tracking from the office had indicated when Evie’s phone stopped working. Yet, even a phone that was turned off was no deterrent. His people pinpointed the phone, and he’d prayed all the way over to the store she was still with it, but when he rounded a stack of boxes near the rear exit, that hope died. Kian stooped next to the phone and pulled a pen from his jacket. He flipped the phone over and found the face shattered. Fear tightened his gut, and he stood up, blowing out a breath. Evie, where are you?

  “Where’s the agent I sent to watch her?” he growled to the man next to him, but it was Taggert who answered.

  “He was replaced.”

  Kian narrowed his eyes. Did they have a traitor in their midst? “What do you mean replaced?”

  Taggert hesitated.

  “Explain,” Kian demanded.

  “Agent Blyth relieved him and took his place. She said she would pick up Mrs. Sloane and take her to get her clothes.”

  “Where is Agent Blyth now?” Kian pushed between clenched teeth.

  “At the office.”

  Of all people to send to watch over Evie, Meghan was the last. He had needed someone to take care of Evie since he couldn’t be there. For Meghan to go… If he found she had slacked off so Evie could be taken, she would answer to him. Meghan was a good agent, and she took her job seriously. He didn’t believe she would put Evie in harm’s way on purpose, but that was to be determined, and he would get to the bottom of it.

  Taggert spoke into his phone. “Got it, sir. Of course. On the way.” He looked at Kian. “We’re being called in.”

  “He’s got her. You saw the message.”

  Taggert dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, I did, and the techies think they know what it means. We’ll find her, but the director wants us back. That’s what we have to do. We’ll catch a break. One of these guys he trusts so much will crack. Give it time.”

  Kian shook off the hand on his shoulder and walked the way he came in. Taggert followed. “Evie might not have time.”

  A short while later, when Kian strode from the office elevators, he spotted Meghan and headed her way. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her face reddened and eyes widened. That was as obvious a sign of guilt as he’d ever seen. He knew he should go straight in to talk to the director, but he grabbed Meghan’s arm and pulled her into the nearest conference room. Taggert followed and shut the door behind them.

  Kian rounded on Meghan, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a hard shake. “If he hurts her…”

  “Whoa, Kian.” Taggert dragged Kian back. “This isn’t Agent Blyth’s fault.”

  “Isn’t it?” Kian snapped at his partner, resenting his interference. He’d never wanted another partner. No one could fill Brad’s shoes or work in sync with him the way his best friend had. Taggert annoyed him more often than not, like right now when Kian wanted to forget his values and smack a woman. He kept his hands at his sides and ignored the fear and hurt on Meghan’s face. “Why the hell were you at my house?”

  Her gaze slid from his face to Taggert’s and back again. They needed to explain to the director why Kian had lost track of Evie, their strongest link to finding Anthony Paine. He didn’t like screwing up and having his boss chew him out, but what worried him more was Evie’s safety. They had drawn a lot of assumptions as to whether or not Paine would hurt her, but he did not want to take a chance and be wrong. If Paine killed Evie—no, he couldn’t think like that. He had to believe she was okay.

  He focused on Meghan. “Tell me the entire conversation.”

  She wrung her hands. “I was just going to talk to her. She needed to know.” Meghan glanced at Taggert. “Does he have to be here?”

  “Talk,” Kian spat, a clear threat in his tone.

  Meghan’s shook visibly, but he didn’t give a damn. He listened as she explained to him how she led Evie to believe they were still seeing each other. He’d intended to admit the truth to Evie, especially after their intimacy last night, but he damn well didn’t want her thinking he wanted the both of them. Meghan could never be to him what Evie had been and still was.

  When she finished her explanation, he advanced on her, but Taggert darted between them. Knowing his partner would defend the woman if necessary, Kian picked up a chair and slung it across the room. Meghan’s yelp of surprise and fear grated on his nerves.

  “The key,” he ground out.

  With trembling fingers, she fumbled to get the key loose. After a few false starts, Taggert took the bunch from her and removed the one indicated from the ring. He handed it over to Kian. Kian accepted it and shouldered past his partner, jerked the door open hard enough for it to slam against the wall, and walked out. Evie’s face filled his mind, driving him mad with worry.

  Chapter Six

  Evie woke in a room alone. She touched her chin and winced. Her cheek had started to swell, and when she sat up to throw her feet over the side of the bed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror. A dark bruise had formed. Bastard is paying for this.

  She looked around at the furnishings, quality and stylish. Somehow it didn’t look like a hotel room, especially with the laundry basket just visible in the closet and a man’s suits hanging above it. She stood and walked over to the window to draw back the curtains. The city outside the high-rise building did not look familiar. Wherever Anthony had taken her was not in Charlotte. She spun away from the view and scanned the room again. A telephone on the nightstand met her gaze, and she almost yelped with relief running over to it. She picked up the handset only to be met with silence and stabbed the button a few times. Suspicion made her reach for the cord behind the phone, and she pulled it. The end of the cord had been severed. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. This nightmare was not happening.

  A noise outside the room caught her attention, and she looked around for a weapon. Nothing hard enough met her gaze, so she raised the phone and tiptoed toward the door. If she brought it down hard enough on the head of whoever was out there, she could do damage. A working phone had to exist in the apartment. Hell, maybe the person she put on the floor would have a cell, and she could have Kian and his men there in no time.

  Heart pounding out of control, she raised the phone over her head. The door opened, and she swung as hard as she could. Anthony ducked, but she grazed his shoulder, and he cried out. Before she could stop her momentum, she smacked into the wall, and the impact sent vibrations of pain radiating up her arm. She dropped the phone on the floor, drew back her hand, and winced. The pain sent her down to her knees, and her cousin stood over her laughing and rubbing his shoulder.

  “That only works in the movies.”

  She flipped him off with a still throbbing finger.

  “You’ve got bite, I tell you that,” he said, “but that’s because I raised you tough.”

  She rolled her eyes and she stood. “I don’t remember you raising me, and you’re only three years older.”

  “I took care of you when your parents were working all the time.”

  She ignored the stroking of his own ego. “When are you going to realize this is a bad idea, Anthony, and let me go?”

  He turned his back. “Come on and eat. I made you some eggs.”

  “You know me so well,” she bit out and followed, plotting her next attack. She took in his broad back. If she jumped him now, he’d pluck her off like a bothersome gnat
. He had a gun. Could she use it against him? He was still her cousin, and she did love him despite what he’d done, but he deserved prison. She would not help him to get out of town or the country, or whatever his plan entailed.

  They strode across the living room to a small dining area. The place seemed really nice, but not exactly Anthony’s style. Two plates of food sat on the table, both with bacon, eggs, and toast. She took a seat and sighed.

  “Where are we?” She picked up the fork beside her plate and pushed the food around without eating it. “This isn’t your place.”

  Anthony tucked into his food, shoveling it into his mouth like someone threatened to steal it if he didn’t. When he took a breath, he answered her question. “No, it’s not mine. This penthouse belongs to a friend. He owed me a favor.”

  “Penthouse?”

  “Yeah.” He grinned. “The elevator travels from the lobby to this apartment. Pretty cool. I was careful before I went in, so I didn’t spend a lot of money, but if I did, I would have gotten something like this. Different furnishings, though, but definitely I’d live big. I will once I get out of here. Maybe go to Fiji. What do you think, Evie? Fiji?”

  “I think I want to go home.”

  He slammed his fork down, and his plate rattled. “When are you going to get it straight?”

  “I’ve got it straight,” she shot back. “You’re the one that’s delusional.”

  He gritted his teeth and blew air so hard out of his nose his nostrils flared. “Eat your food.”

  She shoved the plate away. “You act like you know me so well, but all you see is what you want to see. All you do is what pleases you. I don’t eat eggs.”

  “Since when?”

  “Birth.”

  His chair banged the floor when it turned over, and he walked around the table to her side. She thought he’d hit her again, and she shrank away, her arm up to block the blow. He grabbed the plate and threw it across the room. Eggs, bacon, and toast splattered the wall, and the plate shattered.

  “Go back to the room. I can’t look at you right now.” His voice cast low warned of his state of mind. He seemed close to snapping. Chills raced up and down her spine, and she tried rubbing away the goose bumps on her arms.

  “Anthony—”

  “Get in there, Evie! Now!”

  She ran from the room and slammed the door behind her. A full five minutes passed before she could calm down, and then she realized she was hungry and she needed to go to the bathroom. Rather than risk facing Anthony again, she crossed the room and sank down on the bed. Would Kian rescue her? He would if he knew where she was. If she wasn’t even in Charlotte, Anthony had gotten her past whatever roadblocks the FBI had set up. Even with every man available to hunt down Anthony, they couldn’t be everywhere and cover each little back road. If she wanted freedom, she might need to start using her head and stop provoking her cousin. Then she could get out of there.

  Moving from the bed, she pulled the nightstand drawer open and searched its contents. Batteries, a flashlight, and a couple of iPod charger cords met her gaze. She shoved these items aside and reached for the facedown magazine. She cringed when the busty naked blonde came into view. Forcing herself to examine the cover, she looked for an address label but found none. Of course. If the man who owned the apartment had this magazine mailed, there would be a cover for privacy. The address label would be on that. No other papers were inside the drawer, and she sighed in defeat.

  She closed the drawer and sat back on the bed, looking around. The dresser might have a clue, but after searching, her frustration grew. Only clothes occupied the neatly arranged drawers, and she cursed the idiot who owned them. Where was he anyway? Did he decide to move out just long enough for Anthony to occupy the house, or were they both staying there? If the guy was out running errands, she might soon have not one but two kidnappers to deal with, and her chances of escape lessened.

  A sound drew her to the door, and she pressed her ear against it. Anthony talked to someone, and her heart rate increased thinking her fears had just been realized. She eased the door open a crack and peeked out. Her cousin paced the living room, a cell phone up to his ear.

  “An hour?” he said. “Okay, yeah, the sun will have gone down, and we can move easier. I want to take care of her first. Then I’m going after Leo.”

  Bile rose in Evie’s throat. Common sense told her Anthony didn’t intend to kill her, but the way he said he wanted to take care of her first terrified her. Also, if she didn’t do something quick, Anthony would kill Leo. She had no way of knowing if he had somehow gained information about the safe house.

  She eased the door shut and turned the lock. Let that slow him down. Of course with his muscle, he could break the lock, but she’d have some warning at least. One last area presented itself for searching—the closet. Most people forgot something in their pants or jacket pockets. If she figured out the address of where she was, then she could think of the next step.

  The first suit jacket and pants held nothing, the second and third the same. In fact, she made it all the way through the line and found not even a lint ball. Hopelessness made her sink to the floor, her limbs weak and shaking. Images of living as a virtual prisoner in a foreign country flashed through her mind, and she lay her head against the closet doorframe and shut her eyes. Maybe she could convince him to let her lead her own life. He could go alone.

  Nature called, but she didn’t want to go out there just yet. She tried distracting herself, but it didn’t work. Across the room, the bedside clock indicated fifteen minutes had passed since she’d checked on Anthony. He’d said they were leaving in an hour. Now she had just forty-five minutes. Shoulders slumped, she stood and started for the door and then stopped. Slowly, she pivoted. The full laundry basket!

  Her throat dried as she approached it, and she cringed when she spotted the boxers on top. “Gross.”

  You have to do this, Evie. Just get it over with. She dumped the basket on the floor and used the container to shovel the disgusting underwear out of the way. With fingertips, she picked through the other clothes and came across a T-shirt with a bulging breast pocket. Tissue. Still, this gave her hope to keep going. Three pairs of jeans presented themselves, and she picked out several button-up shirts with pockets. These few were her last hope. She searched all and dumped the contents in a pile on the floor, too scared yet to examine them closer.

  Time, Evie.

  With trembling fingers, she straightened a business card and at last knew where she was. Greensboro, North Carolina. With a small cheer, she discarded the rest of the junk as useless and stood up. Now that the darkness had lifted somewhat, she got the idea to check the top shelf in the closet. The shelf had been made for a giant, apparently, because she had to stretch to her toes to even feel up there. Rummaging around, she met with a box and drew it down. Nothing but shoes. She threw them on the floor and checked again. Then her fingers touched something that made her head spin with anticipation.

  She drew the device to the edge of the shelf to confirm what her fingers had already identified. In the dim interior, it was hard to tell, and that brought the realization that the sun had gone down, and the light faded fast. She ran her hands over the smooth leather and opened the flap. An iPad.

  Her trembling fingers stabbed the power button too hard, but there was no response. She poked it again with more control. Nothing. No, no, no! It can’t be dead. “What am I thinking? I have to hold it down.” She did, for what felt like years. No little apple appeared on the screen. Hysteria bubbled in her throat.

  The doorknob rattled, and she dropped the iPad on the floor.

  “Evie? Why is this door locked? Open it up!”

  She jerked the iPad from the floor and stuffed it into the laundry basket, then jammed all the dirty clothes on top of it. She managed to open the door just as Anthony reared back as if he intended to bust it down. Evie scrubbed a hand over one eye and yawned.

  “What’s going on, Anthony?”


  The anger faded from his face. “Oh, you were asleep. Sorry, little cuz. I thought… Well, never mind. We’re leaving soon, so I want to make sure you’re ready. No funny stuff. I won’t have to knock you out again if you do what I say.”

  He grabbed her chin and turned her head to examine the bruise and swelling. She cried out. “That’s where it hurts, you idiot.”

  To her surprise, he dropped his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you. You know I love you, Evie, right? We’re family.”

  She was so tired of hearing that family nonsense. Just because they were family didn’t mean he had the right to rule her life and act like they couldn’t be apart. She wondered why she’d never noticed his obsessive nature. After his parents were killed, Anthony had latched onto her, and he didn’t want to ever let go, even though they were both grown. He had so much apparently—money, means, connections—but he still had to have her too. He’d never made any kind of sexual overtures, thank goodness, but his attitude was no less disgusting.

  “I know, Anthony. I love you too,” she said to placate him. “Do you think I could go to the bathroom and you could make me something I can eat? I’m sorry for not eating the eggs.”

  He grinned. “Sure.”

  He led her down the hall to the bathroom, and she passed another, bigger bedroom. The unmade bed made her think Anthony occupied that room because he’d never made his bed as long as she’d known him, and the clothes strewn about the floor confirmed it. Something told her Anthony had been using this apartment since his escape. She used the bathroom, and he led her back to the original bedroom.

  “Don’t lock the door.”

  “I won’t.” She headed into the room and shut the door, praying he wouldn’t insist she leave it open, or worse, join him in the living room. He said nothing, and soon she heard his footsteps moving away. She ran over to the laundry basket and dumped everything out to reach the iPad. Another try to boot it up produced the same results, but she’d remembered the cord in the nightstand and darted over to get it. Soon the apple appeared on the screen and she waited with held breath until the device booted all the way.