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Authors: Cynthia Eden

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She pulled the covers up, too aware of her nudity when she hadn’t cared before. “Max…”

But he’d spun away and lunged toward a tall cabinet near the balcony. He wrenched open the cabinet doors, revealing a large
flat-screen television. “Dante said to turn on the damn TV.”

That drove her from the bed.
Oh, shit, they’d found a body.
She grabbed Max’s hand before he could press the button on the remote to activate the TV. “Don’t, Max. You don’t need to
see—”

His thumb pressed
POWER
. The screen burst to life. Max flew through the channels, shooting past infomercials and old black-and-white films to find
a local station.

Newscasters—faces tense as they sat at their desks, their hair perfect, their clothes pressed—stared back at her. “Shocking
news out of D.C. this morning,” the dark-haired anchor said. “A well-known man has recently been kidnapped, and his family
turns to
you
for help.”

“Oh, shit,” she breathed the words. No, no, this couldn’t be happening. She’d been with Max every moment. He hadn’t gone to
the press. Had Frank? Was he the one who’d leaked the story to the world? Beth?

In the next instant, the reporters vanished, and a live action shot filled the screen. An older man with dark gray hair and
fierce eyes glared at the camera. “I want my son back. Someone took Adam. The bastards have him, and I
want him back.
” An image of the missing young man appeared in the lower left-hand side of the screen. A smiling guy with curly blond hair
and a dimple in his right cheek.

“They want me to pay to get him back. Well, I’m not playing their games,” the man on screen continued, staring hard out of
the television set. “I’ll pay
you
to tell me where he is. I’m offering a fifty-thousand-dollar reward for any information about my son, Adam Warrant. He’s
twenty-two, he’s five foot nine, about one hundred and seventy pounds. Blond hair, blue eyes. He was out last night…” His
words came fast. “At a bar near Georgetown. He was at The Core, and I
know
someone saw something.”

This wasn’t the right thing to do. Didn’t he understand? Her hands clenched. Oh, God.

“Call me.” He barked out a number, one that instantly appeared on the screen below him. “Tell me where my boy is, and tell
me who these freaks are that took him.”

Sam’s eyes squeezed shut.

“That’s Slayton Warrant,” Max said quietly.

She knew who he was. Most of D.C. did. She also knew that he had a whole big chunk of money sunk into this particular television
channel. No wonder he’d gotten an instant broadcast. Not that the news station would have passed up a story like this one,
but…

But he doesn’t realize what he’s done.
She opened her eyes, swallowed, and almost swore she tasted blood.
“The SSD will be on their way to his house.” To try and stop him, too late. The damage would have already been done.

Max tossed the remote down as the broadcast continued to blast in front of them. “He’s right. Somebody
did
see something.”

And a lot of people had seen nothing. All those people would be calling in too.

He raked a rough hand through his hair. “Adam and Quinlan both disappeared from the same place….
Dammit!
This shouldn’t have happened!”

“No,” her voice came so much softer than his. “It shouldn’t.” Another break in pattern. Two men gone at the same time. Two
taken from the same bar. The SSD had interviewed the employees at the bar—
twice—
and they’d even put undercover agents inside The Core as a precaution. Oh, hell, Hyde was going to flip over this. No way
should another vic have vanished from that place.

And why another victim so soon? This was rapid acceleration. Usually, the kidnappers only took someone else if the ransom
had been paid or if—

She slanted a quick glance at Max.

If the other vic was dead.

“What’s going to happen?” He turned toward her, pinning her with his gaze, and Sam hoped the fear didn’t show in her eyes.
“When they find out what Warrant’s done, what will the kidnappers do?”

Kill.

“Maybe Slayton will get the right tip,” Max said. “Maybe they’ll find Adam and Quinlan.”

If he wanted to believe that, why shatter his hope?

• • •

He walked down the street, taking his time as he rounded the curve and headed into the park. His hood was pulled up, concealing
his face, and the thick jogging suit hid the shape of his body.

His gaze didn’t meet that of any of the other runners or walkers. When he was sure no one was watching, he ducked into the
woods and pulled out his phone.

The call was answered on the second ring.

“Slayton Warrant.”

But, of course, it wasn’t him. The voice belonged to some flunky. Some idiot Warrant had slapped with the job because the
asshole was all fake bullshit on the air.

“I’ve got a tip.” He kept his voice a whisper because he figured they were recording the calls. Recording, tracing, doing
whatever they could. The cops would be at Warrant’s place by now. The cops, maybe even the FBI. He knew the FBI was following
him as best they could.

Not good enough.

He’d taken Adam right under their noses. So much for the big, bad FBI and their cop flunkies.

Taking Adam in front of them had been such a big damn rush.
No one can stop me.

“Sir,” the voice on the phone chirped in his ear, “Sir, I need you to speak louder. We have a bad connection—”

“He fucked up.” He didn’t raise his voice. “Warrant knew the rules, and he fucked up.” And he’d known instantly. As soon as
that news van pulled up, the watcher had alerted him.

And Adam had been dead.

“Uh… sir?” A hint of fear there. Good. The idiot should be afraid.

“It’s his fault. Tell him that.” Simple damn rules. “But I gave the guy his son back.”
Just not the way he wanted.
A soft laugh. “Warrant has so many fucking properties in this town. Too many. If he wants Adam, he has to start cleaning
house.”
Oh, yeah.

“Wh-who is this? We have a reward, sir, if you’ll just—”

He could almost see the cop next to the jerk, probably rolling his hand and telling the guy to keep him on the line. Not going
to happen. “I didn’t ask for 50K.” That small change wouldn’t have even been worth the effort. “Adam was worth more.”

Sighing, he ended the call. He had his gloves on so he’d blend in with the other joggers—it really was a bitch of a cold morning—so
he didn’t have to worry about leaving prints as he dropped the phone. The cell fell into the bushes near his feet. Then he
took a deep breath and ran forward, knowing the path picked up again in about thirty feet. His heart began to pump, faster,
faster…

He shot out onto the path and kept running. Blending with the others would be so easy now. Blending—he’d always been good
at that. A smile could get you anywhere.

But money could get you everywhere.

He gave a little wave as he passed a sexy blonde.
Everywhere.

How long would it be before they found the body? Hopefully not too long. Even in the cold, Adam would really start to reek.

If he’d timed things right—and he was so good at
planning—the cops would be tearing apart those buildings looking for Adam just as the exchange was made for good old Quinlan.

Diversion. So simple. So perfect.

Damn, but this was easy.

CHAPTER
Eight

W
e divide the team,” Luke said, hunching his shoulders against the biting cold and talking fast to Kim Daniels as the Warrant
residence swarmed with activity around him. They’d pulled up a listing of every piece of property that Warrant owned. Turned
out the guy owned nearly half the town. “Kim, we need to start with the most secluded properties first.” Because the kidnappers
wouldn’t want an audience when they dumped their victim.

His finger tapped on the list of addresses. “These three businesses are closed down.” A fabric shop. A gym. An old garage.

“No eyes, no ears,” Kim murmured. “Sounds like prime dumping stops.”

Kim wasn’t sugar coating. She wasn’t the type. When she’d first heard about the news story, she’d turned to him and said two
words: “He’s dead.”

Special Agent Kim Daniels wasn’t what most folks would call an optimistic kind of person. But then, with this case, it was
hard for anyone to be.

“We need Monica,” she said quietly, her breath forming a small cloud before her face.

She was right. Of course she was. He and Monica couldn’t work as direct partners, but he could use her. “Take her to the properties
with you.” He knew Monica was already on her way. Nothing would keep her away from a scene like this.

To keep working the profile, Monica would need to see the crime scene. When she saw the layout of the body and its placement
by the killer, maybe something would click for her.

“Talk to Hyde,” Luke advised. “See who else we can spare for pairing with the local PD on searches.”
Why did Slayton Warrant have to go to the media? Why?

“You’re sending Ramirez with Ridgeway and Frank Malone for the drop?” Kim asked.

“Yeah, he’s going, and I’ll be backup.” Because he
had
to be there. “Hyde’s calling in Kenton. He wants him to manage the media when this shit hits the fan.” And it would, soon.
Especially once the media learned that Adam Warrant had been taken while two FBI agents were on the premises of The Core.

Kim stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “This isn’t your fault.” Her tight whisper. “Warrant went to the media on his own.
He was warned, just like the others—”

“Like Ridgeway was warned?” He bit out the words and knew that up in that big freaking mansion on Rightmont Lane, Sam was
having the same thought. “When you break the rules, people die with these assholes, right? We broke the rules, too.”

Her gaze held his. “They don’t know that.”

None of them could be sure about what the kidnappers
knew or didn’t know. “Once the exchange is made, I’ll feel a hell of a lot better.”

Luke understood the job. He realized that risks were there, every damn second, but acid had eaten away at his gut from the
minute that he’d found out about Sam’s connection—and known that he’d use her. “I don’t want Sam caught in the crossfire.”
He’d never forget the look in her eyes when he’d found her in the water…

Luke clenched his jaw. Seeing Sam, he knew what Monica must have been like, years before, when the nightmare first came to
her life.

There were too damn many nightmares in the world.

“Sam’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for,” Kim said flatly. “Than we all are. She survived once, and she’ll do it
again.”

But Kim hadn’t been there. She hadn’t
seen
Sam. Or heard Sam’s first choked whisper when they’d forced her to breathe again.

“Men.” Kim shook her head. “Don’t you know, what doesn’t break us just makes us more dangerous?” A wide smile flashed now,
one with a vicious edge. “That’s sure as hell what happened for me.”

Such a small, delicate woman. Exotic face. Slender build. But if the stories about Kim were true, and the things he’d seen
in the SSD certainly made him believe they were, the woman was a perfect killer. Just one who happened to work on the side
with the good guys.


This is damn bullshit! Get out of my way!
” Slayton Warrant appeared in the doorway, his face blotched red, his eyes glittering. “You assholes don’t know anything!
I want someone in charge. I want—”

“Us,” Kim said, her hands rising to her slim hips and
balling into tight fists. “If you want the people in charge, you’re looking at them.”

Warrant’s eyes narrowed. “You two with the FBI?”

“Special Agent Luke Dante,” he told the older man, offering his hand. Warrant frowned, but took it in a quick, hard shake.
“This is Special Agent Kim Daniels.” She didn’t offer her hand. Kim didn’t exactly have the best people skills.

“All the local PD on scene will be reporting to us from here on out.” Luke kept his voice cool. Monica would have been proud.
“We’re going to start canvassing your properties to see what we can—”

“That’s bullshit.” A Texas drawl rolled beneath Slayton’s words. “He’s not—”

“The kidnapper told you to ‘clean house,’ ” Luke said, keeping his voice flat. “That word choice was deliberate. He was telling
us where to find your son.”

But Slayton Warrant adamantly shook his head. “No, that jerkoff on the phone was just trying to rattle me. He needs to understand,
I
don’t
get rattled.”

Kim’s gaze once again met his. He couldn’t miss the disgust in her stare. Luke cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Warrant,
you do understand that recently a kidnapping victim was found murdered, just outside of his parents’ estate.”

Warrant’s eyes narrowed. “You tryin’ to tell me it’s the same kidnappers?”

Too early to know for certain. But… “While the teams prepare, I’ll need to ask you some questions.”

Warrant shook his head. “No, no questions. I’m going on the air again. I’m raising the stakes. One hundred thousand. That
will get the snakes to crawl out and turn on each other. I’ll have Adam back here in an hour’s time.”

The guy just didn’t get it.

“A man will do anything for money.” Warrant’s thick brows pulled low. “Learned that a long time ago.”

“Then you should know,” came Kim’s smooth voice, “that these kidnappers are going to be very, very angry if they think they
aren’t getting their money.”

Warrant blinked at her.

Jesus—had that thought not even occurred to the guy? “Sir, I’d advise against going on the air right now.” Luke crossed his
arms over his chest. “How did the kidnappers first contact you?”

Warrant tried to step around him. Luke just moved with him. “Sorry, maybe I wasn’t clear.” He let the steel flow in his words.
Not so cool anymore. “
How did the kidnappers first contact you?
” They were losing time, and he wasn’t going to dick around.

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