Cole raked a hand back through his hair. Brandon had nailed his plans, right down to the piece of jewelry as a gift. Was he becoming, God forbid, predictable? He heard Damon cackling in the background and grunted. “Listen, you little pissant—wait,” Cole said, interrupting his faux chastisement of Brandon when the flicker of headlights grabbed his attention. In the protected community, he figured it could only be one person. “I’ll see you whenever you get here.”
Ending the call with no more warning than that, Cole spun away from the window and stalked through the house with purpose.
Finally. Madalina was home.
Stepping through the connecting door into the garage, he tapped a button to send the garage door rolling up. He waited while a car turned into the driveway and cruised toward him. Despite the darkness and rain, he could see well enough to know that it wasn’t Madalina at all. This was a bland sedan, a rental car of some indiscriminate make and color. Parking in the driveway with enough room for Madalina to pull into the garage—once she got home—Brandon and Damon disembarked; the former jogged through the rain.
“Sorry, brother,” Brandon said, grinning boyishly. He shook water out of his hair as he approached, then clapped Cole on the back. “If you would have stayed on the line a moment longer, bozo, I would have told you it was us about to pull up.”
Damon walked through the rain like he didn’t care about getting wet, a lazier smile on his mouth. In jeans and a black leather jacket, he resembled Cole to a great degree. They had the same dark hair, the same layer of whiskers on their jaw. Once inside the garage, Damon grabbed Cole for a quick brotherly hug.
“You’re both fired as brothers,” Cole muttered. He socked Brandon lightly in the shoulder and returned Damon’s hug with one arm.
“We’ll get our luggage when the rain lets up a little,” Brandon said, sounding far too amused for his own good.
“Luggage?” Cole said, distractedly glancing at the street. He wasn’t happy to see no sign of Madalina.
“Yes, luggage. You’re not going to make us stay in a hotel, are you?” Brandon asked.
“I might.” He wouldn’t, even if his brothers’ presence did hinder his birthday plans. It wasn’t like he and Madalina could walk around the house naked or have sex in front of the fireplace with his brothers sleeping under the same roof.
Brandon and Damon followed his gaze to the street. Cole checked the time on his phone. Even with bad weather, she should have been home by now. The shop wasn’t a far drive, and traffic should have been minimal. He pulled up his contact list and dialed Madalina’s number.
Voice mail. He muttered a curse and shoved the phone into his pocket.
“How late is she?” Damon asked.
“Not very late,” Cole admitted. “Five minutes, maybe ten.”
“Well, two of the streetlights are out in town,” Brandon added. “That might be slowing her down. Plus the rain.”
“Yeah.” Cole wasn’t sure he was convinced.
“If you’re concerned, we can go up to the shop and you can drive her home. I’ll follow in her car,” Damon said.
“She’s probably already en route. I’ll give her fifteen more minutes. You two want a drink while we wait?” Cole asked. “There’s beer in the fridge out here.” He jerked a thumb toward the silver refrigerator tucked against the wall of the garage.
“We’re good for now. Maybe when Madalina gets here, we can all tip a glass,” Damon said.
The rain fell harder. Cole speared fingers through his hair, raking the dark strands away from his face. He watched the end of the street, silently cursing the darkness, the storm, the lack of headlights.
Five minutes crept past. Damon and Brandon stood at his side, content to hold a vigil until Madalina made an appearance.
When another five minutes passed, Cole dialed Madalina again.
He cursed under his breath when the call went to voice mail again.
“All right, the hell with this. Let’s go.” Cole was done waiting. He didn’t care if he interrupted her work at the shop or passed her on the way home. Brandon and Damon could keep a lookout for her car on the road. Tucking away the phone, he yanked his keys from his pocket and advanced on the gleaming black Jaguar sitting in the second bay of the garage.
Moments later, with Damon riding shotgun and Brandon in the back, Cole left the house and took the shortest route to Uptown Couture.
One way or another, he would find Madalina and see her safely home.
The flicker of red and blue lights from emergency-response vehicles turned Cole’s blood cold. He cruised slowly through a green light a half block from the accident, gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Uptown Couture sat less than half a mile up the same road; this was the likely route she would have taken home. Thanks to the rain and several police cars parked at angles in the street, he could see only vague impressions of twisted metal.
He couldn’t tell yet whether one of the vehicles belonged to Madalina.
Utter silence reigned in the Jaguar. Brandon and Damon said nothing, only stared at the scene the same as he did. Cole slowed further as he approached, guided by glowing orange cones set out by emergency crews.
“One of the vehicles involved is a truck,” Brandon said.
“Yeah, definitely a truck,” Damon agreed.
Cole, heart in his throat, breath coming in painful rasps, tried to make out the second car. Half the front end seemed to be ripped apart, exposing a good portion of the engine. He snarled in fear and frustration when the length of a fire truck cut off the view.
“I’m gonna pull over,” Cole said, warning his brothers of his intent.
“There’s nowhere to stop here. They’ve got one lane for all traffic. You’re going to have to drive past and turn into a parking lot on the side,” Brandon said, twisting in his seat to see better. “Wait. I can see the second car now. It’s not Madalina’s. This one is black.”
“Are you sure?” Cole asked. He was ready to stop in the middle of the street and get out of the Jaguar.
“Yes. I’m positive. It’s not her,” Brandon said.
“I can see it, too. It’s black, Cole. Not red,” Damon added.
Cole snapped another look to his left. They were past the fire truck now. In the break between the fire truck and an ambulance, he caught a glimpse of the second car.
Black, like his brothers said.
Overwhelmed with relief, keeping his speed slow until they were beyond the reach of cones and emergency personnel, Cole exhaled a long breath. He looked ahead past the swishing windshield wipers and rivers of rain.
That had scared him more than he wanted to admit.
“I’ll try Madalina again,” Brandon said, already dialing.
“Thanks,” Cole said.
“You okay?” Damon asked in a quiet voice.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m just glad she wasn’t involved in that.” Cole navigated the wet road toward the next intersection. Madalina’s shop was in the strip mall to the right, minutes away.
“Voice mail,” Brandon reported from the back.
Cole turned into the long parking lot flanking the row of businesses. The entire lot was empty this late, the storefronts dark and shuttered. He pulled directly to the curb in front of Madalina’s store and cut the engine. Taking his keys with him, he made his way straight to the front door and inserted one of the keys in the lock. Brandon and Damon followed him inside after shaking rain off their clothing and out of their hair. It was gloomy in the shop, with one low light shining near the cash registers.
“Madalina,” Cole called, raising his voice enough to be heard even in the storage area. He stalked past racks of merchandise as Brandon and Damon fanned out through the boutique.
No answer.
Cole bypassed the counter, stepped behind it, and saw the inventory list Madalina had been working on when he’d called. The computer was off and he didn’t see her purse anywhere, giving him reason to think she’d already left.
<
br /> “Hey, Mad, you in here?” Brandon knocked on the small bathroom door near the break area. He received no reply.
Cole pushed through the double doors into the storage area. “Madalina?”
Still no answer. The silence, only broken by an eerie whistle of wind near the front door, cemented Cole’s belief that they must have missed her. Brandon and Damon followed in his wake.
“Brandon, check out back for her car. I’m going to take a look in the customer restrooms,” Cole said.
“On it.” Brandon switched directions.
Cole entered the restrooms through a single door and snapped on the light. There were only two stalls, both empty. Retreating, he was about to reach for his phone again when Brandon’s voice rose above the rain. Urgent, sharp.
“Cole! Here!”
He glanced at Damon and jogged out the back door into the employee parking lot.
Soaked to the skin, Brandon stood near Madalina’s car. The driver’s door stood wide open.
“Madalina!” Cole shouted, advancing on the Cadillac. A quick check proved the front seat was wet, but empty. He found no signs of her in the back, either.
“Look. Her purse is over here,” Brandon said. He crouched with Damon near an array of items spread over the asphalt.
Dread beginning to seep through his system, Cole bent down to examine the scene. He recognized her purse, lipstick, compact, phone, and hairbrush. A hairband, wristwatch, random receipts, and two tiny vials of perfume were all present. He didn’t see her wallet, however, or the pink organizer she’d recently purchased.
“Looks like a mugging,” Damon said. “What’s missing?”
“Her wallet and an organizer. Her phone’s still here,” Cole replied, a muscle flexing in his jaw. Pushing to his feet, he retraced his steps to the car and, without touching the exterior or interior, glanced more carefully over the seats and floorboards. No organizer, no wallet. He found her car keys a few inches beneath the vehicle, as if they’d been dropped, then kicked during a scuffle. Because he couldn’t wait for the police, was afraid to wait for authorities, he grabbed the keys and walked to the trunk of the Cadillac. His fingers trembled as he shoved a key in the lock and turned it.
Please, God, don’t let her be in here, dead.
The trunk was empty. Cole braced the heels of his hands on the rim of the trunk and spent a few seconds dealing with a riot of emotion.
Madalina was gone.
“Brandon, call 911 and get the police here. Damon, call Thaddeus and tell him to pull the security feed at the store. Hurry, before the cops get their hands on it. I don’t want them to confiscate it until we’ve had a look.” Cole set his brothers in motion, glad in that moment that all of his brothers worked for the firm and were more than capable of handling a crisis.
Circling the car, he looked for more clues. The dread and fear returned, followed by fury.
Whoever had dared to lay their hands on Madalina would pay dearly.
CHAPTER TWO
Cole gave his statement to the police and watched while they collected what evidence they could in the never-ending rain. Unwilling to give up Madalina’s phone, he pocketed it at the scene. Through connections at his work, he could glean more information quicker than the cops could. He might find a lead or a clue that would help him home in on her whereabouts.
Damon and Brandon had retreated to the Jaguar to make their call to Thaddeus in private. Cole didn’t want anyone tampering with the security tapes before Thaddeus, the oldest of the West brothers, had a chance to scour them for evidence. After the situation with the dragons, Cole had insisted on installing a much better system at Madalina’s store. It covered the front entrance, the interior, the back door, and the parking lot where she usually parked her car.
Finally free to go, Cole exited the shop after locking up and dropped into the driver’s seat of the Jaguar. As he started the car, he said to Damon and Brandon, “Tell me what you’ve got so far.”
“Thaddeus just called five minutes ago with a preliminary report. He said two men grabbed Madalina just as she was about to get into her car, like we thought. There was a third man, a driver. The men were all wearing dark clothes and ski masks, so he couldn’t run any faces through the system. He did get a partial plate, though,” Damon said.
“I want to see the footage myself. Have him send it—”
“I already did,” Damon said.
Cole, grateful that his brothers knew him so well, drove out of the parking lot. He sped through the rainy streets toward home, anxious to see if he could detect details on the footage that would help him find Madalina.
“You think this could be the Chinese agents again?” Brandon asked from the backseat.
“I don’t know. Things have been quiet. It doesn’t mean they weren’t involved, of course, but if it is them, then they must think we have information about the final two dragons,” Cole said. He clenched his teeth.
“Do you? Have new information about the dragons? Last I heard, there have been no more notes from Madalina’s grandfather regarding their whereabouts,” Damon said.
“No. She thinks Walcot must have had only two. She’s received nothing more from him. No clues or hints or letters.” Cole killed the headlights before entering the gated community. Instinct put him on edge, made him cautious and wary. He pulled to the curb one house away from the Tudor-style residence and cut the engine. He studied the homestead, alert for anything different or unusual. Landscape lighting shone up the brick-and-wood facade, and a soft glow gleamed beyond the mullioned windows. He watched to see if shadows moved through the home, an indication that someone had broken in and was even then waiting for him to get home.
Nothing. The house looked quiet.
“You thinking someone might be inside?” Damon asked in a quiet voice.
“Maybe. We’ll go on foot the rest of the way and enter through the back door. Either of you happen to have a weapon?” Cole asked, reaching down to pull a gun from a holster he kept strapped to the base of his seat.
“We flew on a commercial airline, so no. No weapons,” Damon said.
“There’s one more gun under the passenger seat,” Cole said. He got out of the car, trusting Damon or Brandon to bring the extra weapon.
The violent storm had spent itself, leaving a drizzle in place of the driving rain. Cole crept along the sidewalk, shadowed by Damon and Brandon. He cut through the neighbor’s yard, circumvented Damon and Brandon’s rental car, and passed through the gate leading to his own backyard.
So far, he saw nothing out of place. No busted latch, no muddy footprints. The intact back door proved no one had kicked it in or picked the lock to gain entrance.
Inside, Cole led the way through the hallways. Stealthy and silent, he checked the lower floor while Damon and Brandon took more time, opening closet doors and investigating the walk-in pantry. Leaving no stone unturned.
Upstairs some minutes later, Cole pushed the gun into the back waistband of his pants and flipped on the light to his office.
The house was clear. There was no sign of intruders . . . or Madalina. No sign that she’d been here in his absence, or that strangers had searched the home.
“Brandon’s downstairs, keeping an eye on the street while double-checking locks on the windows,” Damon said as he entered the office.
Cole sank into a leather chair and rolled closer to a section of tables. Computer screens lined the tabletops, some glowing with images of different parts of the property. Front porch, back door, garage, driveway. He had the entire perimeter covered and could scroll through different camera angles at whim. What he was after now had nothing to do with his home security, and everything to do with the footage from the shop. To Damon he said, “Good. We’ll have him look at the feed when he’s done.”
“You holding up okay?” Damon asked as he sank into a chair next to Cole.
“As well as I can, considering. I’ll tell you, though, I’m done with her life being in jeopardy. Done.”
Cole’s fingers flew across the keys of a laptop, bringing it to life.
“I take it to mean that you’re going to try and find the last two dragons. Put a final end to the madness,” Damon said.
Cole could feel his brother boring a look into the side of his skull. “That’s what I mean. No matter what I have to do or where I have to go, I intend to get this monkey off our backs for good.” Cole signed in to the secure server available to him through his father’s business and typed in his seventeen-digit password. He knew that stress was driving his foul mood. Making him edgy.
“We know the assailants took her wallet and her organizer. Any reason you can think of why the organizer would be taken?” Damon asked.
“Maybe they thought she had pertinent information in there about the dragons. Codes, names, locations. Anyone who has done any research at all about Madalina’s involvement with the artifacts knows she’s received clues from her grandfather. The Chinese agents are very aware that Walcot didn’t provide directions in conventional ways.” Cole scrolled through available footage until he found the section he wanted.
Damon hummed in consideration as the footage of the shop started to play.
“This reminds me so much of watching Brandon get taken from this house,” Cole said, remembering when his own brother had been abducted by the agents. The sight of men dragging an unconscious Brandon had soured Cole’s stomach at the time. He braced himself for what he was about to see.
“I know it’s not easy. At least we’ve got something to go on. This should help us find her,” Damon replied.
Cole experienced a rush of emotion when Madalina came into view on the feed. Walking through the rain to her car, she seemed in a bit of a hurry, stepping through puddles toward the driver’s-side door. Bathed in a circle of light from the streetlamp, she turned off the alarm and reached for the door handle. Affection for the normal scene warred with fear for what Cole knew was about to happen. She seemed so vulnerable to him right then, with her back to the parking lot, the car door swinging open.
A Dangerous Tryst (The Inheritance Book 3) Page 2
