“I can get anything else later. Let’s go.” She ushered him out of the bedroom, flipping off the lights as they went. She hated leaving his bedroom in such a state of disarray, but there wasn’t time to do anything else.
“I can drop you closer to the hospital. It’ll cut down on your train ride.” Damien handed her the trench coat she’d worn yesterday. This early, the humid air was more clammy than chilly, but she was grateful for it all the same.
“That’s fine. Anything that’s on the way.” Poppy jumped in the passenger seat of the truck, still shaking off the sleepies.
Damien climbed behind the wheel, a dark, brooding presence. She could only imagine what kind of torment it must be to face danger like this. As he pulled out of the neighborhood, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He linked their fingers together and merged onto the main street toward downtown.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone pained.
“Don’t be. You can’t control this.”
“I know, but after last night—”
“Don’t apologize. This is different. Don’t worry about me. Just think about your friend. He needs you. I’m fine.” She squeezed his hand. “Will you let me know how he is later?”
“Yeah. The train station’s up here.”
She let him go and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. It was early enough that the morning rush wasn’t in full swing, so maybe she could have a few minutes in the teacher’s bathroom to finish getting ready.
Poppy leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. Damien shifted into park and grabbed her by the back of the head before she pulled away. He brought her in for another soul-searing kiss. Each time, it was as if they traded bits of themselves, twining their spirits together in an elemental way that knit them together. He left her gasping for breath, her head spinning.
“I’ll call you,” he said.
“Please do.”
Poppy grabbed her bag and slid out of the truck. She stood on the curb and waved as he pulled away. There wasn’t any time to process what had just happened, just time to react. She hoped his friend was okay, and that whatever creep had hurt him would get what he deserved.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Yes?” Poppy turned toward a man in slacks and a button-down shirt. His tie was loose around his neck, but his face … there was something familiar about it. Where had she seen him before?
“Do you have the time?”
“Well …” What an odd question. Didn’t he have a cell phone? She patted her dress until she realized it had no pockets, then started digging in her purse.
The man grabbed her arm and pressed something cold and hard against her side. “Move.”
“What?”
“If you don’t want to get a bullet in your gut, you’ll move now.”
Poppy’s heart raced as he shoved her further from the train station. There wasn’t anyone around for her to call out to for help. She was completely alone. Fear paralyzed her, making her trip over her feet.
“Don’t hurt me,” she pleaded.
He chuckled. “You should be afraid of more than that.”
She glanced at him again, and that’s when it hit her.
The man in Damien’s photograph.
The one he was going to stop looking for.
He was holding her arm.
“Go pace somewhere else,” Gio grumbled.
Damien stopped in the middle of the path between the rows of chairs. Gio and a few other agents had been seated here since the doctor came out to chat with them after surgery. Matías was all sewn up, but they still weren’t allowing anyone to see him, which was driving Damien mad.
“Seriously, you’re stressing me out with the pacing.” Gio popped a Junior Mint in her mouth. Judging by the empty boxes of candy on the seat next to her, she was stress eating.
He glanced at his watch. It was close to noon. He could at least call Poppy and check in with her.
“Fine. I’m going to go get lunch. Want anything?”
He took orders from the others and left the emergency room. The sky had cleared up as the day progressed, and now the sun shone, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Someone nearby had just cut grass, and the scent hung in the air. The streets around the hospital were filled with a steady traffic of family and strolling patients. He pulled out his phone and jabbed in Poppy’s cell phone number.
The line rang a few times before going to her voice mail. Not to be deterred, he tried her direct line at the school, but it rang. And rang. And rang.
Maybe she was doing some librarian stuff. It was a workday, after all.
He tapped out a text and sent that off instead.
All the nerves and anxiety that had been building up last night slammed him in the gut. What if Poppy was ignoring his calls? He’d dumped a lot on her there at the end when he probably should have waited, but the words had rolled off his tongue and felt right at the time. He wouldn’t tell her how much he was into her, not yet, but he wasn’t going to deny that he felt strongly about her.
Damien stopped by an Italian eatery and ordered calzones and pizza to go, but his mind was elsewhere.
The doctor had been a little funny when she came out to see them after the surgery. What wasn’t she telling them about Matías? Damien barely knew the man, but there was a kinship there. He took the other agent’s injuries personally.
Damien made it back to the ER without a return call from Poppy, which did nothing to improve his mood.
“There you are.” Gio met him at the doors. “Doctor wants to see us all in the back.”
“Shit.”
He had a bad feeling about this.
Damien handed a bag to Gio and followed her into a tiny room lined with desks and uncomfortable armchairs. Most of the agents present chose to stand or lean against the wall, making the doctor the odd woman out, sitting at the desk.
“We’re all here.” Gio closed the door behind him.
“How is he?” Damien asked.
“First, Matías came through surgery fine. He’s going to have a long recovery, but the injuries will heal. I wanted to bring you back here because we found something once he was cleaned up.” She pulled a few color printouts from a folder and laid them on the desk. “We didn’t see the pattern of the incisions until he was cleaned up and we were tending to the abdominal damage from the gunshot.”
Damien leaned over the desk. It took him a moment to make out what he was seeing.
You’re next.
Little cuts. Deep slices. The words were hard to make out, but even he could see them. Several were stitched up, making the lines more pronounced.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gio roared. She wheeled around, but there was nowhere to go.
“Easy.” Damien put a hand on her back.
“Who’s next?” Archer asked, glancing at Damien.
“I don’t know,” Damien replied. “Matías has a lot of enemies.”
“Fucking Christ. We have to find out who did this.” Gio shoved her hair back. “Is he awake yet? Can we talk to him?”
The doctor shook her head. “Not yet. He’s still out. It’ll probably be a few hours before he wakes up.”
“Okay,” Damien said, taking charge of the situation. “Gio, take a deep breath and get on with Cooper. Archer and I will go back to the scene, talk to the cops there, and figure out what we’ve got. You two, stay here with Gio until she gets something together. The scum who did this isn’t going to get away.”
Gio stared at him so hard no one spoke. “It’s Emilio, isn’t it?”
“We don’t know that.” Damien shifted his weight.
“The fuck we don’t. He likes knives, the sick fuck. You two have been hunting him. This is probably his message to us to back off.” She didn’t say it, but the words hung on the air for anyone to hear. This is your fault.
Damien nodded. He couldn’t deny it, because he was thinking it himself.
Emilio whistled as he unlocked his house. The ne
ighbors waved at him now, placated by the idea he was renting the property. A few cordial words, some comments about the Cubs, and he was accepted. There was nothing suspicious about a man returning to his rightful home, after all.
He’d removed the sheets, dusted off the furniture, and kept the lights on a timer to give the impression of a routine. A radio played in the kitchen, the pulsing beat and static noise enough to muffle most of the interior sounds. At least those coming from the back room.
The laundry room was off the kitchen and was sadly the only room without windows, so he’d had to make do.
He stood in the kitchen and listened to the muffled grunts of his captive. She had spunk, he’d give her that. Too bad it wouldn’t make a difference.
The door from the garage to the laundry room was blocked with a seven-foot shelving unit held in place by a car he’d borrowed, for the sole purpose of turning it into a glorified doorstop. The door leading from the laundry to the kitchen had been a little more difficult, but the refrigerator worked well once he stacked jugs of water inside it.
He placed his cheek against the door and felt the vibrations as his prey tried to break it down. He did love a fighter, and it had been ever so long since he’d savored a kill. She should be so lucky.
Emilio tapped on the door and placed his mouth over the crack where the door met the wall.
“Don’t tire yourself out too much. We’ve got games to play.”
Poppy froze.
Had she just heard someone?
She tiptoed to the door and laid her ear against it.
Nothing.
Fear raced through her veins, clogging her thoughts and flogging her pulse to an impossible pace. She couldn’t even trust her ears. She wasn’t sure if she had actually heard someone. But what if they were out there listening for her?
Poppy held her breath and knocked on the door.
A knock and cackling laughter answered her.
She backpedaled across the tiny room, tripping over a wooden bar she’d ripped down, and falling into the wall. She skittered to the side, tripped over the bag she’d crawled out of hours ago, and huddled in the corner, knees pulled up to her chest.
Light seeped in around the door. Her whole body began to shake. Emilio hadn’t touched her, not really, but Damien had told her enough. This man killed for the fun of it, she’d seen as much in his eyes when he promised to hurt her. Being tossed in this room and left here wasn’t any reassurance. All she could do was hope Damien knew she was missing, and that she might find some way to escape.
Poppy laid her cheek against her knees, tears slipping down her cheeks. She wanted to be home, on the couch with her cats. Who would feed them? They were probably upset she wasn’t there.
“Damien will come for me.” She repeated the mantra for the hundredth time that hour. She had to have faith.
Damien pushed through the high school doors, students giving him a wide berth. It was a small blessing to not be jostled in the morning rush. He turned down the hall, following the signs toward the office. It was too late to go to Poppy’s apartment and expect her to answer, but he hadn’t heard from her all day and it bothered him. She might need time to think about their future together, but he needed her now.
He needed to touch and hold her, soak up her goodness and believe there was a spot of brightness in the world.
“Moana, what are you doing here?”
Damien turned toward the voice. “Carney. Hey, man.” He slapped the other officer’s hand. “I’m checking up on someone.”
Carney’s lips thinned. “Sidon might get a suspension today.”
“Sidon? Oh, the kid.”
“Yeah, wasn’t that who you were looking for?”
“No, man.” Damien shifted his weight. Carney had as much as admitted he thought Poppy was attractive, before Damien knew he was talking about the woman who’d captured his attention. “I’ve been seeing the librarian, Poppy.”
Carney’s brows rose and his grin spread. “Shoot.”
“What?”
“I tried asking her out the other day and she said she was seeing someone. If I’d known it was you, I wouldn’t have even tried.” He shook his head.
“Yeah.” Thinking about her brought a little warmth to his chest.
“Say, did you send her those flowers? All the teachers were talking about it.”
“Guilty.”
“But why are you here?” Carney frowned. “She’s not here today.”
“What?”
“I thought I heard someone say she was out.”
“Why?”
Carney stepped toward an athletic woman in a pantsuit. “Here. Hey, Mrs. West, do you know where Miss Mercer is?”
Mrs. West glanced up. “Office said she was a no-show yesterday and today.”
A no-show?
Damien didn’t like the sound of that.
Carney turned toward him and shrugged. “She’s not here, man.”
“Thanks. I’ll try her at her place. I’ve been busy. Maybe I missed something.”
“Keep busy like that and I’ll swoop her up, man.”
“Over my dead body. Take care.”
Damien turned on his heel and strode out of the building. The day was dreary with a threat of rain. It was a mirror of what he felt inside. After a full day and night of following every lead they could find, nothing had yielded results, and Matías was still unconscious due to postsurgical complications.
He needed to see Poppy. The urge ate at him.
The drive to her apartment took less than five minutes, and during the day there were plenty of parking spaces. The only other vehicle anywhere nearby was a white Jeep.
Damien took the stairs up to her apartment two at a time. He pounded on the door so hard the hinges rattled. Inside, a cat meowed, but no one answered.
“Poppy, you there?” He knocked again and pulled out his phone to call her.
Maybe she’d gotten sick?
“I don’t think she’s there.”
Damien turned toward the stairs. A thin Asian man in a suit had just finished climbing the stairs to Poppy’s floor.
“Who are you?” Damien asked.
“We’ve met.” The man smiled. “I’m Nikki in boy mode.”
“Sorry, I didn’t even recognize you.” Damien took in the well-tailored suit and slicked-back hair. Nikki didn’t look like herself.
“Don’t worry about it. I take it as a compliment.” Nikki stared at the door. “The landlord won’t open the door for me, so I doubt he’d open it for you. Unless you could flash your badge?”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m one of Poppy’s emergency contacts. When she didn’t show up yesterday and they couldn’t get a hold of her, they called me. I just got away from work long enough to swing by here. I’m starting to get worried.”
Damien didn’t like how this was playing out. First she didn’t answer his calls or texts, then she wasn’t showing up to work or even answering her door. Something was very wrong.
“Me, too. Hey, her mom has a key,” he said.
Nikki cringed. “I heard about the other morning. Do you think she’d give it to us?” Nikki jingled the change in her pocket.
“Who knows, but it’s worth a try. Want to ride with me?”
“Please.”
They descended the stairs and got in Damien’s truck. The white Jeep fit the other man, but not Nikki. It was a paradox Damien didn’t have time to think about.
“Can I ask what exactly you do?” Damien couldn’t hold his curiosity in anymore.
Nikki chuckled. “I didn’t totally fail my parents. By day, I’m a lawyer. I specialize in contracts and legalese.”
“Oh.” There was a story there, but there was no time to hear it.
The House was a thirteen-story building that rose above the other buildings along a broad avenue. Damien parked one street over and they made the rest of the trek on foot.
“It’s crazy to think she grew up here,�
� Nikki remarked as they passed a fenced-in playground full of children.
“But it explains her.”
They were buzzed into the lobby by a young girl sitting at a front desk. The carpet and furniture dated back to the eighties, if not earlier. The paint was fresh, though, and the original flourishes seemed to be intact, lending the space a regal air, if a little threadbare.
“Hello.” The girl studied them, one brow raised.
“Hi, I’m looking for Mrs. Mercer or Poppy. Do you know where I can find them?” Damien asked.
“Poppy doesn’t live here and her mother’s at work. I think Rose is in the side yard,” she replied.
“Can I speak to her?” Damien had to hope the animosity between Poppy and her family wouldn’t cloud their judgment. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
“One minute.” The girl picked up an older cell phone and pressed the buttons. After a moment she held it to her ear. “Hey, Rose. There’s someone here looking for your mom and Poppy. Can you come talk to him?” She listened a moment, then said, “Okay.” She hung up the phone. “She’ll be here in a second if you want to have a seat.”
“Thanks.” Damien remained standing, too anxious to sit.
Nikki pulled out her phone and tapped the screen. “Kyle wants me to check in with her as soon as we know something.”
“Hopefully, we’ll find out something soon,” Damien muttered.
Rose rounded the corner behind the reception desk, one child on her hip and another in the stroller she pushed. Poppy hadn’t been kidding when she said her sister had a whole brood.
“Rose, Damien Moana. Thanks for talking to us.” He offered his hand when she rolled to a stop.
“I remember you.” Rose’s gaze flicked to Nikki.
“Hi, I’m Nick. I’m a friend of Poppy’s.”
“What’s going on?” Rose hefted the toddler on her hip.
“Poppy didn’t show up for work the last two days. No one has seen or heard from her, so we were hoping you or your mother might have a key to her apartment, so we can check to see if she’s there.” Damien could force the landlord to open the door, but there would be pushback. It was better all around if he could get the family’s help.
“Is she in trouble?” Rose’s gaze narrowed.
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