Obviously, the place was secure.
She’d been told the rules when she’d arrived—stay away from windows, keep the curtains drawn, never ever walk outside alone.
But there were no rules about walking around the house in the early hours of the morning or checking the door locks, because she couldn’t feel safe if she didn’t.
The front door was at the bottom of a curved staircase. She walked to it, checking the lock three times before she was ready to go to the back door.
She headed that way, moving quietly through the dark hallway that led to the back of the house. She reached the kitchen and was happy to see that the light above the stove was glowing, the curtains pulled across the window above the sink, the room quiet and empty. She hurried across the room.
“Going somewhere?” Sam asked, his voice sudden and unexpected.
She whirled around, her heart hammering in her chest.
From surprise and from pleasure, because her pulse always seemed to race when she was near him.
“You’re up late,” she said, a little too breathlessly.
“It’s my night to pull security shift. How about you?”
“Just checking the locks.”
“You do that every night,” he commented, opening one of the cupboards and pulling out coffee grounds.
“It’s habit.”
“Because of what happened with your ex?” He said it casually, as if they’d spoken about it dozens of times before.
“I shouldn’t have mentioned him to you,” she murmured, her face hot.
“Are you embarrassed that you did?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“Why would I be?”
“Because your face is red.” He touched her cheek, his palm cool and callused.
“Jarrod isn’t my favorite subject to discuss,” she confessed, stepping back so that his hand fell away.
Because she could have stood there forever, staring into his eyes, feeling his cool palm against her heated skin, and she didn’t want to be that weak again. Not the way she had been with Jarrod, where she’d given up so much of who she was to be what she’d thought he needed.
“Good, because I’m not that fond of discussing him, either,” he responded, and she smiled.
Just like she always seemed to when she was around Sam.
“Do you always say the right thing, Sam?”
“Not always. Probably not even often, but with you, I’d like to try.”
“There you go again,” she muttered, flicking on the coffee machine because, otherwise, she’d continue staring into his eyes.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Ella,” he said, handing her the coffee grounds and leaning against the counter as she started the pot.
“I’m not.”
“But you check the doors every night, and you avoid my eyes every time you think I’m getting too close.”
“I’m cautious. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, there isn’t. I’d just hate for you to miss out on life because you’re too afraid to live it.”
“You sound like Ruby,” she said, turning to face him again.
“Thank you,” he responded, and she couldn’t help looking into his eyes. Really looking. He wasn’t anything she’d ever dreamed of, and he was nothing like what she should want. He wasn’t safe, predicable or easy, and yet, she’d still said she would go to dinner with him once all this was over.
“Sam—”
“What? You don’t think this is going to work? You think we’re getting in too deep? You want to go back to your life and forget we met?”
“I don’t want to forget we met. I’m just not sure this is the right time to be thinking about things like...dinner.”
“Everyone has to eat,” he said with an easy smile.
“That’s the truth.”
“And so is this—I’m not going let you be hurt again, Ella. Not by The Organization. Not by your ex. And certainly not by me.”
He meant it. She knew he did.
And when he took her hand and tugged her closer, she didn’t resist. She didn’t pull back as he moved close. She didn’t back up as he leaned in.
She didn’t do anything but stand where she was, frozen in place, caught in the power of his words and in his gaze.
“Sam,” she began, desperate to break the connection that seemed to be forming between them. Terrified of what it might mean and where it might lead.
“Everything is going to be okay,” he said, touching her cheek so gently, her eyes filled with tears.
“You’ve said that before,” she reminded him.
“And I’ve been right before,” he replied, leaning down so that they were just a breath away.
She could see the blond tips of his lashes and the flecks of silver in his eyes. She could see him, and the truth of who he was. Right there in the depth of his gaze. He wasn’t like Jarrod. He wasn’t like anyone she’d ever known. He was Sam. Strong. Determined. Caring. If she was looking for a relationship, if she wanted to risk her heart again, he’d be the person she’d risk it with.
When his lips brushed her forehead, she didn’t move away. Even though she knew she should, even though she didn’t really believe that everything would be okay between them. Love hurt. A lot.
She’d learned that, and she’d learned from it. She didn’t want to repeat her mistakes. Not even with Sam.
But, when his hands cupped her nape, when his fingers wove through her hair, she didn’t stop him.
She leaned closer, her hands resting tentatively on his waist, her fingers curved against soft fabric and firm muscle.
And when he kissed her?
She felt it deep in the place in her heart that had been walled up and closed off since Jarrod.
* * *
His phone rang, the insistent sound dragging Sam from the softness of Ella’s lips, from the silkiness of her hair, from a mistake he wouldn’t regret. One he’d make a thousand more times, if he were given the opportunity.
He pulled back, breathless, spellbound. By her and by this moment. By all the things he felt when he looked into her eyes.
“Wow,” she whispered, and he smiled, brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.
“Agreed.”
“I didn’t mean the kiss,” she murmured, her cheeks pink.
“Neither did I,” he responded truthfully, his phone going silent and then ringing again.
“Maybe you should get that?” she asked, her hands trembling as she took mugs from a cupboard and filled them with steaming coffee.
She was right. He should.
But he’d have just as soon ignored it.
There was more he wanted to say to her.
A lot more. About how impressed he was by her persistence and bravery, about how much he admired her determination to get justice for Ruby. About how beautiful he found her smile and her intelligence and her laughter.
He pulled his phone from his pocket anyway, glancing at the number.
“It’s Adam,” he said, and she nodded, handing him a cup of coffee and taking a sip from the one she’d poured herself.
He answered quickly, his gaze still on Ella as she took a seat at the table, her silky hair brushing against her cheek as she leaned across the table and grabbed a packet of sugar from a bowl.
“Hello?” He sounded gruffer than he’d intended, his voice raspy and a little rough.
“You sound happy to hear from me,” Adam responded. He’d been staying in Honor’s apartment, working with the local PD, conducting interviews with people who’d known Ruby and who worked at the clinic. Wren and Radley joined him during the day. Thus far, they’d hadn’t come up with any new evidence, but Honor had managed to trace the emails Sam had received to a computer used by doctors at the clinic. There was no way of knowin
g who had set up the account or sent the missives, but the information had brought the team a step closer to pinpointing a suspect. They’d obtained a warrant and confiscated several computer hard drives. Computer forensic experts were searching them for evidence that might help bring The Organization down.
“It’s one thirty in the morning,” Sam said. “Most people are asleep.”
“That’s fortunate for them, right? We’re working, though.”
“We? As far as I knew, you were tucked into bed at Honor’s place.”
“I was. Until Bo Williams called.”
Sam’s pulse leaped, and he glanced at Ella. “He contacted you?”
“He’s been staying at an apartment in Damariscotta, but this evening his wife thought she saw someone from The Organization outside the complex. She’s terrified, and he’s ready to turn himself in.”
“For what? We were already aware of the money laundering, and we gave him immunity for his cooperation.”
“He moved Ella’s car.”
“When?”
“The night she was kidnapped. And—you’re going to love this—Ian Wade asked him to do it. He walked into Bo’s pawnshop with a fist full of cash and instructions for getting rid of the car. Bo hot-wired it and did what he’d been asked. He didn’t think much about it until the police started canvassing the area, looking for it. That’s when he decided to leave town.”
“He didn’t go very far.”
“Where else would he go? He’s been in the area for fifteen years. His wife was born here. It’s what they know. Besides, he was sure we were searching for him. He figured the immunity thing was off the table since he was complicit in the kidnapping after the fact. He said he’ll bring me to the car after we outline a plan to keep his wife and kids safe. He said he’s sent them to stay with his in-laws in Portland, but he wants a safer location.”
“Did you tell Wren?”
“You’re security shift tonight, so I thought I’d let you know. You can fill everyone else in. I’m heading over to Bo’s apartment now.”
“Are you bringing him here?”
“That depends on what Wren says. Have her give me a call once she’s up to speed.”
“All right.” He was already jogging up the steps, heading for Wren’s room. She must have heard him. Her door flew open before he knocked, and even at one in the morning, even fresh out of bed, she looked ramrod straight and ready for action. Black yoga pants. Tight-fitting black shirt. No shoes, and her hair was down. But her eyes were bright, her gaze sharp.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
He filled her in quickly, knocking on Radley and Honor’s doors as he did so. Minutes later, they were sitting in the kitchen, cups of coffee in front of them, discussing the possible ramifications of bringing Bo to the safe house.
“I don’t like it,” Wren said, tapping her fingers on the tabletop. “It seems awfully convenient that Bo is suddenly eager to help us find that car. We’ve been looking for a week.”
“So you’re not buying the story that his wife saw someone from The Organization?” Honor asked, taking a sip of her coffee and grimacing. “Man, this is strong!”
“Do you want some cream?” Ella asked. She’d been standing a few feet away, hip against the counter, silently listening. There’d been no reason to ask her to leave. She was as involved in this as anyone, and her safety was their utmost concern.
“Nah. A few packets of sugar should do it.” Honor grabbed four, ripped them open and dumped them into her cup. “There. Much better. So, do you buy the story, Wren?”
“No. But I’d like to know why he’s telling it.”
“A threat, maybe?” Radley suggested. “If I had a family, that would be the one way to get to me. Threaten my wife or my kids.”
“So let’s assume Wade threatened Bo’s family. What is he trying to get from him?” Wren asked.
“Me or Ella,” Sam answered.
“For what purpose?” Radley asked. “We’re already investigating the clinic, and seeing as how we served a warrant and confiscated several computer systems, I’m pretty certain he knows it.”
“Revenge?” Ella said quietly. “The medical clinic has been here for six years. It’s probably been a cover for The Organization since then. I arrived in town, started asking questions and ruined what was probably a very lucrative business.”
“And we sure didn’t help it grow,” Wren said. “Whatever the purpose for this meeting, I want it to happen. I’m going to call Adam and tell him to transport Bo here.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Sam said, the thought of Bo being anywhere near Ella filling him with dread.
He knew the guy.
He’d spoken to him on several occasions, and he’d found him to be sleazy and underhanded. Sure, he’d turned informant, but that was only because he hadn’t wanted to get caught up in a kidnapping scheme that could put him in jail for life. He might have some moral compunction about preying on kids, but Sam thought his main motivation for going to the FBI was self-preservation.
“I disagree.” Wren stood and brushed a few pieces of lint from her yoga pants. “Bo may be the key to arresting Ian Wade. We’re close to having enough evidence from the computers, but we need more, and if Wade happened to show up here and make a bid for revenge—”
“We have a civilian here,” he reminded her sharply, and she glanced at Ella and nodded.
“We also have five federal officers who are more than capable of protecting her.”
“Look, Wren, I’m not one to argue with your plans—”
She smiled. “Yes, you are. If you don’t think they’re reasonable. I appreciate that about you, but we have close to twenty missing teens in Boston. Fifteen missing from Newcastle and the surrounding area. How many more kids are going to go missing before we stop these guys? If bringing Bo here gives us a chance to bring in one of the kingpins of The Organization, it’s a risk we can’t afford not to take.”
She was right.
He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t deny it.
“I think Honor should take Ella to her place until this is over,” he said.
“She’ll be in as much danger there,” Honor replied. “There isn’t anyone in town who doesn’t know you and I are with the FBI, and The Organization would be stupid not to have someone watching my apartment.”
“Then take her to Boston.”
“That’s a waste of time and energy,” Ella cut in. “If I survived being kidnapped, shot at, nearly burned alive and almost drowned, I can survive a few hours with a guy like Bo.”
“It’s not Bo I’m worried about.”
“Ian isn’t going to get anywhere near me. Not with you around. Besides, God is the one who decides things, and I think this was decided weeks ago. The Organization is going to go down, and I’m not going to stand in the way of that happening.”
“Ella, I don’t think you understand how much danger—”
“I do understand. But there are some things that have to be done. No matter how much danger is involved. You do what you have to do to shut down The Organization. I’ll be in my room. Staying away from the windows. Let me know when it’s over.”
She walked away.
He almost followed. She’d been hurt before. He didn’t want her to ever be hurt again.
But she was right.
Some things had to be done. No matter the risk or the cost. He’d make certain she stayed in her room, that she stayed safe, because he couldn’t imagine any other outcome. He couldn’t imagine life without her in it.
That was something he needed to think about.
But right now, there were other things that needed his attention.
Wren was on the phone talking to Adam. Honor and Radley were sketching out a plan to beef up security, and Sam was ready to do what Ella had suggested—whateve
r he had to do to shut down The Organization.
No more missing kids.
No more innocent victims.
No more secrets and lies hidden behind the facade of a medical clinic.
That’s what he needed to focus on, what he needed to work for.
He took a seat next to Honor, listening as she listed the safe house’s weaknesses, the areas of biggest concern, the places most likely to be breached. They were planning for an attacking army, but he was hoping it would be an army of one.
Ian Wade was one of four investors in Medical Properties Incorporated. He knew the inner workings of the company, and he knew just how deeply it was connected to The Organization. With him in custody, they might be able to get the information that would allow them to cut The Organization off at the knees, cripple it for good and keep it from preying on the vulnerable, the lonely and the forgotten.
That and keeping Ella alive were the goals.
Now they just had to come up with a plan that would ensure both outcomes.
TWELVE
At first, it was quiet. Not even the hushed sound of voices drifting from below. No feet on hardwood floors. No doors opening and closing. Ella sat in the center of her room, away from the windows and the door. Tense. Scared. Wondering if she’d made the wrong decision.
She could be on her way to Boston, instead of sitting in a fancy log cabin in the middle of nowhere, waiting for trouble to come.
But she hadn’t wanted Sam and his team to be shorthanded. She’d been worried that Bo would arrive and bring an entire army with him, that somehow the person who was escorting Ella to Boston would be the only one who could save the day.
A silly thought, and she knew it.
But it had been there with the other—that she hadn’t wanted to leave Sam. She hadn’t wanted to say goodbye, not knowing if she would see him again.
She glanced at the clock.
It had been fifty minutes since Adam called.
Forty minutes since she’d walked into her room and shut the door. Twenty minutes since she’d decided sitting on the floor would make her less of a target than sitting on the bed would.
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