MAYBE SHE WAS paranoid, but every shadow seemed menacing and every sound was like a harbinger of potential danger. Had Tanya been aware that her days were numbered or had she gone about her day, popping into Subway for a sandwich, only to die moments later with a turkey on sourdough in her hand?
Hope felt as if the Grim Reaper were counting out the sands in her hourglass, which was ridiculous because she didn’t believe in stuff like that, but her brain was playing tricks on her.
Last night she could’ve sworn she’d heard someone in her living room, but when she’d gotten up to investigate—holding a baseball bat for protection—there’d been nothing out of place and no one lurking to murder her.
It was official: she was totally paranoid.
Even at Tessara it felt as if eyes were on her. When before she’d blithely walked the halls, her mind occupied with formulas, now she was watching for possible moles.
How did a mole act?
Were they overtly sneaky and suspicious-like or did they smile at you in the cafeteria and offer to share their homemade banana bread like Yvette in Lab Three?
She was barely sleeping and her eyes were beginning to cross.
When her shift ended, she gratefully shut down her station, cleaned her lab and went straight home. She didn’t even run through a drive-through to pick up food, because she just wanted to fall into her bed and forget how her life had been turned upside down.
She also wanted to forget that stupid ache in her heart whenever she thought of J.T.
Several times Hope had thought of calling Blue Yonder in the hopes that J.T. would pick up, but she chickened out before she could put the thought into motion.
What was she going to say to him?
“Sorry, I was a jerk and I really do care for you”? “Please come back and sleep beside me because I’m scared of my own damn shadow these days”?
It would be easy to cop out and say that the only reason she missed J.T. was that he made her feel safe during these weird times, but that wasn’t it. He made her laugh, he drove her crazy and the sex was sublime.
The fact that he also made her feel safe was just a bonus.
Hope opened her front door and walked zombie-like to her bedroom, needing sleep and lots of it, but as she headed straight for her bed, something pushed her hard and she landed on the bed with a startled shriek.
She kicked out blindly and connected with a hard body as she tried scrambling away, but a hand grabbed her foot and pulled her back, cruel fingers biting into her ankle as she tried to kick herself free.
“Help!” she tried to scream, but her lungs were seizing with fear and nothing more than a terrified squeak came out. She kicked again and she was wrenched onto her feet by her hair as something hard pressed into her side.
“Kick me again, bitch, and I will put a bullet in your gut. You won’t die right away, but it will hurt so bad you will wish you were dead.”
Shaking all over, she bit her lip to keep from crying out. Every self-defense rule she’d ever learned told her to scream, to take the chance because she had a better chance at survival if she attracted attention, but fear had paralyzed her vocal cords.
“Please don’t kill me,” she whispered. “Take whatever you want—just don’t hurt me.”
“You have a spare ten million lying around?” he sneered, and she froze. “Because that is what you owe me. Your little stunt cost me plenty and it is time you pay your dues.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m crushed you don’t recognize my voice, darling. I had such grand plans for you and me. I even considered making you my wife. Now I have different plans... Plans that are not so pleasant.”
Anso DeLeon! How was it possible? “You’re supposed to be d-dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint. I’m difficult to kill, it seems. Now, here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to come with me like a good girl and finish the job or else I’m going to kill you right now.”
“I destroyed the samples,” she said, shaking. “There’s nothing left.”
He shoved the gun against her temple. “Well, then, you’d better hope you have a very good memory. Now move!”
It was dark. No one would notice Anso holding her tightly as they walked to his awaiting vehicle. It would look as if they were lovers going for a stroll.
Tears sprang to her eyes. This was what her pride had brought her—being kidnapped for a second time by a madman with nine lives, apparently. Why hadn’t she listened to J.T. about Tessara? Why had she pushed him away?
“You were shot,” she said, grimacing as he dug the gun into her side as they walked.
“Yes, I was. But I have excellent doctors on staff. I should tell you, I’m quite put out about the deaths of my guards. Your friend will pay for that. The charter business is filled with dangerous things lying around. Accidents happen.”
Her heart stopped. “Leave him out of this. He’s nothing to you.”
“No one screws with Anso DeLeon, my girl. A lesson has to be taught.”
“What are you going to do?”
“And spoil the surprise?” His chuckle made her want to pee herself. “I hope you’re a fan of fireworks, because something is about to go boom.”
J.T.! Tears sprang to her eyes as Anso stuffed her into the sleek Town Car and they drove off into the night.
* * *
J.T. PULLED UP to the apartment complex to see a black Town Car speeding off. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he had a bad feeling. What was a Town Car doing in this neighborhood at this time of the night?
And why had it sped off like that?
Something wasn’t right.
He bounded up the stairs to Hope’s apartment and found the door open. His dread tripled when he checked her entire place and found it empty, but saw a sign of a struggle in the bedroom.
Shit!
J.T. bounded out the door and called Teagan as he ran back to his truck.
“Someone’s taken Hope! I think she’s in a black Town Car. Get Ty on the phone to check the surveillance cameras on Sutton Avenue at the intersection of Olive and Nabor Avenues! I need to know where that Town Car is going!”
“Shit, man, are you sure?”
“I feel it in my gut. There was a sign of a struggle and she’s nowhere to be found.”
Teagan didn’t question and simply hung up to do as J.T. asked.
Ty called and J.T. immediately answered. “Where’d it go?”
“Turned down Magnolia at a high rate of speed, heading to the airport.”
“Got it. We need back up on this. Does Harris still have connections to that FBI guy?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Call him. Tell him everything we know so far. I’ll do what I can, but if she gets on a plane, she’ll be as good as gone.”
“You got it, brother.”
J.T. clicked off and pressed the gas pedal down harder. He had to make it to the airport. He cursed himself for hanging back, for sulking like a baby when he’d suspected there was still a threat at large.
What had he been thinking?
If anything happened to Hope... He couldn’t think straight.
Flashbacks of his last tour threatened to send him off the road. He felt helpless, impotent rage, and his lungs squeezed every bit of air from his chest...
No! He would find her. He would save her.
Use your brain. Think. The fact that it was a Town Car said that whoever had snatched her had money, which meant they wouldn’t fly commercial.
LAX had private planes coming and going all the time. Who had enough money to have their own private plane?
Anso DeLeon.
But he was dead.
He thought of that night and realized he hadn’t actually seen Anso’s body, just the word that Ricardo had shot him and then the guards had riddled Ricardo with bullets.
Anso was the only one with the means to pull something like this off. Plus, he was the only one with high enough stakes to risk being caught.
He called Teagan. “Find out which hangar is registered to Anso DeLeon,” he instructed, taking a hard right for a shortcut to the airport.
“Hold on—let me check,” Teagan said. Then he came back with “Hangar Twelve.”
J.T. asked, “Did Harris call his FBI friend?”
“Yeah, rousted him out of bed. He thinks Harris is full of shit, but he managed to talk him into checking it out. I hope to God you’re right. Otherwise, Harris just burned a pretty good bridge.”
Yeah, he hoped so, too. “Ditto, brother.”
He reached the airport and flashed his pilot license to gain access to the private charter area.
Picking up speed, he saw the Town Car parked in front of a waiting Learjet. He knew they couldn’t take off until they had clearance, and by the looks of it they couldn’t leave for another ten minutes.
He parked out of sight and ran the rest of the way, needing the element of surprise on his side.
J.T. was shocked to see a woman was holding Hope hostage. She was talking to her, but he couldn’t exactly hear what they were saying.
Then he spotted Anso, exiting the car, directing the people stowing his luggage in the sleek plane.
J.T. ground his teeth, wishing he’d doubled back to make sure the man was dead.
But who was the woman?
The woman started arguing with Anso as Anso grabbed Hope by the arm and pulled her to him with sharp words directed at the woman.
He crept a little closer, praying his backup arrived soon.
He didn’t dare risk going in guns blazing, but it took everything in him to stay put.
J.T. wasn’t looking to be a hero, but he wasn’t going to let Hope board that plane.