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  “It’s like this,” she says determinedly, her smirk fading into a flat non-descript smile. “You either let me go with you, or when we ascend to the ground floor, I take matters into my own hands.”

  “Stay close to me,” I growl at her and shake my head, pretending to be annoyed. But I’m not annoyed, not even one bit. If I honestly believed for a second she was going to be in any danger, I wouldn’t have allowed her back into the elevator.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHASE

  With every mile down the interstate, the closer we reach the garage on Stetson, the faster my heart races. I can’t imagine how furiously Summer’s heart must be pounding against her chest if I’m feeling like this. I think it’s made all the worse because she is beside me.

  In retrospect, I probably should have been more forceful in making sure she stayed behind, but there was something about her charm that managed to sink its claws into me. There’s something about this woman that just makes me throw caution to the wind.

  I’m not prepared for what comes next. If this garage just ends up being another dead end like Marcus claimed, then I don’t know how she’s going to react. God knows what will happen if the worst case scenario comes to pass and her sister is found dead in the garage. I’ve been around enough pain, sorrow, and death to last me a lifetime, but at the same time, I’ve become accustomed to it and that’s a terrifying thought to entertain.

  I don’t ever want that for anybody else, certainly not someone like Summer.

  Though the traffic is easing up from the evening rush, there’s still enough cars on the road to cause a jam right ahead of our exit. To pass the time, I turn down the radio and take a heavy sigh. “What kind of music do you like?”

  She shrugs, not committing to answering my question. My guess is that her mind is anywhere else right now, but that’s also the point. I want to make her forget about what’s going on, even if it’s only for a few minutes at a time.

  “Come on, you have to like music,” I press for an answer, and nod with pursed lips when it seems like I’m not going to get one. “I like classic rock.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Me too, huh?” I cock a brow and pass her a mischievous grin. “You’re definitely a history teacher, because no English teacher would ever be caught dead saying that, am I right or am I right?”

  “I don’t know,” she sighs and sinks further into her seat as she turns her head to look back at the passing city through the car window. “How much longer?”

  I push my tongue against my cheek and check my watch. “The garage is basically right off this exit so it shouldn’t be too long.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see her angle her eyes at me. “I didn’t know anyone still wore watches nowadays.”

  “This?” I shake the white gold watch on my wrist and smile. “That’s because everyone has a clock on their smartphones and their eyes are glued to said smartphones.”

  “Then why do you have a watch?”

  “It’s just a part of the uniform, you know?” I turn to her, figuring it’s safe to do so since we’re stuck at a light at the base of the off ramp. “Sometimes, I just need to know the time and digging my phone out of my pocket either takes too long or it’s not possible.”

  “I see.” She nods, wets her lips. “It’s a nice watch.”

  “Yeah,” I muse out loud and swallow the memories of the woman who gave it to me. It was my mother’s, or rather it belonged to the grandfather I never knew. “It was a gift to me by someone who meant the world to me.”

  “Meant?” Her eyes widen, catching onto the past-tense use of the word. “I’m sorry,” she says in almost a whisper and turns her head back around to look out the window.

  My eyes pass over her once more before they’re back on the road ahead. The red light turns green and the row of cars begin making their way through the light, but just as the car in front of me passes through, it turns red.

  I’m not waiting at this damn light for another minute. Not even caring to look both ways, I slam one foot against the gas and take a sharp left through the light, cutting onto Stetson Avenue as a car slams their brakes behind me and lays their fist on the horn.

  When I glance back over to Summer, she has one hand thrown against her chest trying to tame her racing heart. Given the circumstances, I probably should have at least warned her that we were about to recklessly speed through a red light.

  “Sorry about that,” I say with a light grimace. “But we’re here now.”

  She stares blankly at the garage, her eyes hollow and hunted as I turn on the blinker, wait for a passing car, and then take a left turn into the building. The ticket-machine is out of order, so I don’t stop as I make my way up the steep ramp and onto the first floor of the garage.

  It’s dark, so I’m forced to turn on the headlights. For being a garage in the middle of the city, it’s not very busy at all. There are more empty spaces than there are filled spaces by at least a factor of two.

  Keeping my eyes peeled for the suspects’ SUV, I drive slowly around the garage. Once we’ve circled around the first floor, we begin ascending to the second of seven floors.

  With one hand braced on the door handle—as if she’s prepared to jump out at a moment’s notice—Summer leans against the dash with eyes flickering to look at every car, at every passing shadow.

  My heart shatters just a little bit watching her and my mind goes back to the worst-case scenario. I’m not a praying man but I find myself pleading with God to not let this situation take a horrific left turn into darkness.

  We clear the second and third floors in silence, and Summer is on the edge of her seat now. With each passing car that doesn’t fit the description, it’s like she loses more and more hope, sinking further into the passenger seat until…

  “There!” she screams, pointing to a black SUV parked in the far corner of the fourth floor.

  Before I can even brake completely, she throws open the passenger door and jumps out.

  “Wait!” I instruct her, but I understand that right now my words mean nothing. There’s not a thing in the world that’s going to stop her from doing the same thing she had done on the highway earlier. I don’t kill the engine—I don’t have time.

  My feet slam against the cement as I give chase to her. I sweep one hand outwards to grab her by the stomach and pull her backwards before she can reach the car. She flails in my arms, screaming and crying, pleading for me to let her go, but I can’t do that. Not until I’ve cleared the scene.

  I hold her tight in my arms for a little longer, waiting for her to quit wailing enough so that I can trust that she’ll listen to me. When the storm seems to pass and her cries are merely a light whimper, her body limp and tired, I release her from my grasp.

  She collapses onto the hard ground, her eyes hollow and empty. Her throat tenses and her lip quivers.

  I drop to the ground in front of her and lift her at the chin. “I’m going to check things out. Promise that you’ll stay right here.”

  She doesn’t respond with words, only with a gentle nod of her head, dark curls sweeping across the side of her face. I nod back before rising back to my feet to approach the vehicle cautiously.

  The windows are tinted far beyond the legal limit and it’s impossible to get much of a look inside from the side or back. I circle around to the far wall and get a glimpse inside through the front windshield.

  There’s nobody inside, at least nobody that can be seen. I reach for the front passenger door and give it a wiggle before popping it open. I’m hit with a strong cigarette odor—gross. Keeping the front door open, I take a step back and pop open the rear passenger door to peek inside and sigh out of a combination of relief and annoyance.

  Relief because the kidnappers didn’t just kill the poor woman and leave her body in a city garage. And I’m annoyed because I’m back at square one with no leads. I turn back to Summer and shake my head. “She’s not here.”

  She nods, t
aking in the news as she rises to her feet. She pats her hands over the denim covering her thighs and steps to me. I watch her with careful eyes as she cranes her head inside the SUV to see for herself.

  “So now what do we do?” she questions lowly, taking a step back while pinching at the bridge of her nose. “Are we sure this is the same car?”

  “The license plate matches.” I retrieve my phone from my pocket and call up Marcus on his private cell. It only needs to ring once before he’s answering. “We found the vehicle but there’s nobody inside.”

  “I didn’t figure they’d still be around.”

  “Were you able to find anything else?”

  “Unfortunately no.”

  “Marcus,” I plead, “Please tell me you at least have something?”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t. I’m good at what I do, but I don’t have access to the same tools as the FBI. I froze the camera feed trying to get a good look at the driver, but I really couldn’t make out much because the windows were so tinted.”

  “What about the cars that left after the time they pulled into the garage?”

  “There were over two hundred cars that left the garage in the hour immediately afterwards. At first, I thought I could narrow it down to try and pinpoint which car they would have left in, but I couldn’t. The only way to know which of these cars the suspects drove off in would be to follow each and every one of them on city traffic cams and that’s just not feasible.”

  “All right,” I sigh, but not too deeply. With Summer standing right beside me, I don’t want to give her the impression that we’re at a complete loss, which might be true but she doesn’t need to know that. “Let me know if you find anything.”

  “Yeah, I’ll look into other avenues.”

  I hang up the phone and force it back into my pocket before turning back to Summer. She’s wearing a cold, blank expression with eyes that zone out into the dark shadows of the garage in the near distance.

  “We’re going to find her,” I promise and reach for her, but she breaks away from me. “I’m going to find her.”

  “How can you know that?” She shoots me down with an icy glare, crosses her arms over each other and huffs. “Do you think they’re watching us?”

  I shrug, because I don’t know the answer.

  “If they’re not career criminals, if they’re not watching me, then how would they know if I called the police?”

  “Do you want to take that chance?” I take a measured step towards her and place a palm on each of her arms. “I know you didn’t ask for this, but these are the cards that have been dealt. I want to help you in any way I can, but you’re ultimately the one that’s going to be calling the shots.”

  She rolls her eyes and recoils, breaking away from me once more. She drags the back of her palm over her forehead as she twists away from me. “I don’t want to call the shots.” She spins back to me with a frown. “I just want this to be over.”

  I was there when this began and because of that, it’s like I’m more connected to the case than I should be. It’s like it’s more personal to me than when a client comes to us begging for us to help. She didn’t ask for this and that makes me want to help her all the more, but at the end of the day, maybe she’s right. Maybe it’d be better for everyone if she went to the police.

  I scratch nervously at my cheek. “If you want to go to the police, I’m obviously not going to stop you.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” she groans, fear and uncertainty pulsing through her veins and coursing off the edge of her tongue. “It’s been hours already and I… I.” She cradles her head in her palm, and I’m speechless.

  I’m never speechless. More and more, I’m regretting getting involved in this because I’m not sure if I can be objective. I’m not sure if I’m capable of deciding what’s the best course of action.

  I look away from her and look back to the SUV. Though we may not have found Taylor, there could still be valuable clues inside the vehicle. Just then, Summer’s phone begins to ring.

  We lock eyes with each other, her brown eyes turning a cold shade of ice. She swallows nervously, frozen in place.

  “Answer it,” I say and take a measured step towards her, but she’s still standing still, staring at me like I alone hold all the answers in the world. I reach into her tight back pocket and retrieve the phone, push it into her stone cold hand. “Put it on speaker.”

  But she just looks at me, dazed and confused, lost in her own thoughts, in her own fears.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SUMMER

  This is it, the phone call I’ve been waiting for. This call alone could seal Taylor’s fate for good, one way or the other. It’s the reason why I hesitate answering it, but it’s also out of fear.

  When Chase instructs me to answer the phone, and to put it on speaker, I look to him for a split second and in his eyes I see something. I don’t know what. They’re dark and haunted, but inexplicably I trust him without hesitation or question.

  I raise the phone in my hand, the vibrations of the device against my palm sending chills over the entirety of my body. Once I answer the phone, there’s a break of silence and static from the other end. My eyes shift back to Chase’s as the man on the other end of the phone begins to speak.

  “Good evening, Summer,” he begins, and my stomach sinks like a rock in the ocean because he knows my name. “We trust that you’ve held up your end of the bargain thus far and have not gotten the authorities involved.”

  Chase nods at me, gesturing for me to respond.

  “Yes,” I say dryly, hoping they don’t know that I’m lying to them. My mind begins to race, thinking this could be a test. If it is a test, then I’ve already failed. There’s another break of silence and my heart feels as if it’s about to beat right out of my damn chest. “I haven’t gone to the police.”

  “Are you ready to hold up the next part of the bargain?”

  Chase begins whispering to me but I’m the furthest thing from being a proficient lip-reader. I squint my eyes and shake my head as he repeats what he’s trying to say.

  “Are you there, Summer?” The man questions, his voice cutting through static and white noise.

  “Yes, I’m here.” I place the phone against my chest and look to chase. “What?”

  He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Ask to speak to your sister.”

  I raise the phone back into the air. “Can I speak with Taylor?” I squint my eyes, knowing that I should have demanded to speak to her. By asking them to speak to her, I’ve already given them too much power. “Let me speak to my sister.”

  “That’s not an option right now.”

  My heart sinks deeper, a nauseous feeling bursts from the deepest pits of my stomach and threatens to choke me. The air around me turns hot and dry. “Why not?”

  “Do you have access to your sister’s account information?”

  “Why can’t I speak to her?” I spin around, away from Chase. “I swear to God if you’ve done anything to hurt her—”

  The man snickers, turning my anger into something far more cutting; despair, sadness, loneliness. “Just play by the rules and nobody has to be hurt.”

  “Fine,” I seethe between gritted teeth and twist back to my protector. “What do you want?”

  “Half a million dollars. Judging by the weight of this diamond,” he says, but all my ears focus on are the cries from my sister in the background, “I’m assuming that should be easily doable.”

  Chase chews into his lip and shakes his head, but I pay him no attention. “Anything you want.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. Compliance and acting cooperatively will make this transaction go as smooth as possible. You have less than seventy-two hours to come up with the money, but an exact time and location is to be determined. Keep your phone charged and we’ll be in contact again soon.”

  “Wait,” I scream, but it’s too late. The phone beeps and the call drops. My hand shakes feverishly. It’
s frustrating to be in a position where I can’t do anything, let alone even call back the people responsible for this. I look to Chase, my eyes begging him to help me figure out what to do.

  And then I think about the cost, five hundred thousand dollars, and how that’s nothing compared to what my sister is worth. It’s an exorbitant amount of money but Rick and Taylor can spare it.

  “They have the money.” I nod, clenching the phone tight in my hand. It’s like I’m talking myself through the situation out loud as a means to keep myself calm. “Rick’s going to have to be the one that orders the transaction, though. I don’t have access to their accounts.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He steps towards me and wraps his arms around me, pulls me in tight for a hug. From someone who’s still basically a complete stranger, it should be enough to send me into discomfort, but it doesn’t. Not even close. In his arms, I feel safe because his touch forces the raging voices out of my head. “For the time being, it’s best if her husband doesn’t know.”

  “Why?” I ask softly, my eyelids falling over my eyes. “It feels wrong.”

  “Because these situations are about control, and we can’t risk losing any control we have right now if we’re going to come out on top.”

  “Right.” I nod and untangle myself from his body. With one hand, I scrape away the tears from my dry cheek—the tears aren’t there. I’m in a world of hurt and mourning, but I can’t cry. It’s shock, perhaps, or something more sinister. “What do we do now? I assume there’s something else we can do other than just waiting?”

  “I don’t know.” He cranes his head over his shoulder and takes a quick glance at the black SUV. “But you did good just now on the phone. You handled yourself well.”

  “You think?” I look up to him. He’s so tall, standing a good foot above me. “I almost lost my temper.”

  “That’s actually a good thing.” The corner of his mouth hitches into a warm smile. “You don’t want them thinking you’re too strong, but you also don’t want them to think you’re a pushover.” He points squarely at me. “Remember, ninety-nine percent of the time, control is the most important factor. No matter the circumstances, even if you can’t control what’s going on around you, you can control how you respond.”