Bait

by Samantha Keith

  “You think I’m scared of your boyfriend? He’s not even an FBI agent anymore. And besides, I just took care of him. He won’t be looking for anyone.”

  Every muscle in her body went lax. Terror pricked her skin. No. He was lying, he couldn’t have hurt Ethan. She’d just been with him.

  “You’re full of shit. Ethan would snap you like a twig.” The tremor in her bones turned to solid steel. Oh god, what if she was wrong? The insides of her stomach burned. She had to get out of here and find Ethan—but if she got away what would he do to Hanna?

  She couldn’t leave without knowing where Hanna was. He could have hidden her anywhere. “Where’s Hanna, Michael? I want to see her.”

  The corner of his eye twitched. “Don’t worry, you’ll be reunited soon. Now, come with me. Don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to hurt you, Riley.” His fingers closed over her elbow and he propelled her toward the hallway and into the small kitchen. She planted her feet into the ground, and tore out of his hold.

  Her eyes landed on the block of knives near the stove. Her pulse vibrated against her throat. He was within arm’s reach; there was no way she’d get to the knives without him catching her. She had to throw him off first.

  “You’ve been watching me, you sick bastard. I know about the cameras and the audio devices. What was the point of that?” She fisted her hand on her hip at the same time she inched closer to the stove. He didn’t move. A low chuckle erupted from him and he rested the bat on the kitchen counter, his hand hovered on the smooth laminate surface only inches away.

  “I enjoyed watching you, Riley.” A salacious smile split his face. “Hanna liked it too. It was so funny to hear her scream your name. She tried to warn you, but you couldn’t hear her even though we were feet above your head.”

  Fury pulsated through her and disgust curdled in her stomach. He wouldn’t get away with this. If it cost her her life, she’d make sure he was caught. She took another step toward the stove, her fingernails dug into her palms.

  “Why Hanna?” If she could keep him talking, his attention might slip enough for her to grab a knife. Her throat constricted. She’d have to stab him and take the baseball bat from him. Terror chomped its vicious teeth through her sides. She had no choice. If she didn’t act, she and Hanna would die and she’d never see Ethan again… if he was still alive. Dread numbed her body. She pushed it away. Ethan was strong and capable.

  Michael’s eyes squinted to small beads. He folded his arms across his chest.

  Yes, yes, yes. Her fingertips flexed with the impulse to turn and grab the handle of the butcher knife protruding from the block.

  He shook his head. “Hanna was always such a sweet girl. Then all of a sudden she was partying and sleeping with guys.” His lip curled with disgust. “But she wouldn’t give me the time of day. I sent her flowers, and a card, but she ignored me. I have more to offer than those punks she was screwing around with.” A twitch started at the corner of his eye.

  Riley swallowed and leaned closer to the counter, she had to move while he wasn’t within reach of the bat.

  “You took her because she wouldn’t go out with you?” Riley chortled. “She’s like ten years younger than you at least. And sorry to say, but you’re not exactly man-candy.”

  Fire shot through Michael’s eyes. “Yeah, you would say that. Too bad that boyfriend of yours won’t survive the day,” he snarled. Hope leapt into her chest. That meant Ethan was still alive. “I was trying to protect her, to offer her security. She repaid me by acting like a slut. She was making a fool out of me and that,” he said as he took a step forward, “is something I won’t stand for.”

  Now! Her impulse screamed. She lunged for the block, her fingers closed over the handle of the knife and she yanked it out of its slot. White noise screeched through her eardrums. Michael shouted something and charged at her. She spun to face him, her elbow swung back as he tackled her. The knife flew from her fingers and skittered across the smooth linoleum. His hands closed over her shoulders and he flung her against the counter.

  No. She’d missed her shot.

  Her eyes raked the surface beside her, a frying pan sat in the dish rack next to the sink.

  Michael huffed in front of her. His chest rose and fell and his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Goddamn you, Riley,” he growled. He let out a scream, his hands cupped over his ears. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but there’s no choice. No choice.” He shook his head, his lips firm.

  Riley dove for the rack, snatched up the frying pan and swung with all her might. The bottom of the pan connected with Michael’s head, the metal rang through the air and shook her.

  “Shit,” he yelped, his hands clenched his skull. The pan fell from her fingers and she tore through the kitchen. Her heart hammered in her chest. Michael’s footsteps pounded behind her. His fingers caught her hair and snapped her head back. His forearm closed around her throat and he backed her up toward the kitchen.

  “No!” The scream tore through her throat violently. She tossed her weight to the side. He staggered, but caught himself before they went down.

  “You’re going to be fun, Riley,” he laughed in her ear. His breath was hot against her cheek. Her stomach roiled. “Don’t you want to see Hanna? I think she’d love the company.”

  Riley jerked her elbow back, connecting with his midsection. The air whooshed out of his mouth, and she spun from his hold. She picked up the baseball bat on the counter, her palms held its smooth weight and her chest swelled.

  “I’m going to kill you, Michael.” Her words came out steady with conviction. She tightened her fingers on the sleek wood, and wound the bat over her shoulder. He’d taken Hanna, and had done god only knew what to her. That was enough.

  Michael straightened, but one hand gripped the edge of the counter. Their fight was taking a toll on him. His eyes grew small and a snarl split his face.

  He raised his arm and blocked the first blow. It crunched into his shoulder. He let out a howl and spit flew from his mouth. She swung again, this time she got his kneecap and he went down.

  Before she could swing again, he tackled her legs and she careened backward. She landed hard on her tailbone, the wind whooshed out of her lungs, and the back of her head slammed against the kitchen cupboards. Stars flashed in front of her eyes.

  Michael rose to his feet and tore the bat from her loose fingers. His high-pitched voice permeated the fog that had settled over her. A moan caught in her throat and she forced her eyes to stay open. His hands gripped her ankles, and he yanked her toward him. Her butt slid out from under her and without the reflex of her hands to stop her, her head smashed into the floor.

  Panic flooded through her, drowning her. “No, let me go.” She kicked and squirmed, but he dragged her across the floor. His long, lean arms didn’t waver as he pulled her across the kitchen and down the laminate floor in the hallway. She twisted in his grasp, her feet bucked against his hold. She grabbed the edge of the wall and clung.

  He was going to kill her. Her heart beat in her chest like a caged wild animal.

  Ethan.

  She had no way to tell him, no way to leave a clue. He’d look for her, but not until he was aware she was missing. That could be hours. She could be dead by then. Michael gave a yank on her legs and grunted. Her ankles stiffened and her fingers dug into the drywall.

  “Dammit, Riley. You’re only making this harder on yourself.” He dropped her feet to the ground and got on top of her. His thin, wiry face filled her vision. His hand sunk into her hair, lifted her head, and slammed it against the floor. Her ears rang. She kicked and thrashed, her fists connected with every inch of him she could reach. He lifted her head again, but this time she was ready. She flung herself forward and raked her nails across his face, his glasses scattered to the floor and three, bright red lines emerged on his skin.

  “You’re going to
pay for that.” His voice dropped low, almost to a caress. His fist came down on her cheekbone, and her head bounced off the floor. Darkness closed in around her, Ethan’s name slipped out of her lips.

  Chapter 23

  She was finally his. Between Riley and Hanna he had the perfect combination.

  Riley’s disappearance would cause ripples—that, he expected. But eventually it would smooth out, just like Hanna’s disappearance had. And he had two to last him for a while. After this, he’d go back to his usual careful self and only prey outside of his hometown. The problem was Riley’s FBI agent ex-boyfriend. Sure, they’d had a spat at the bar and had supposedly broken up, but what would he do if she turned up missing?

  He couldn’t take any chances.

  He pulled his baseball cap down low and inserted the tiny tools into the back door of Ethan’s house. It was broad daylight, and the worst time to be doing this, but he had no choice. Now that he had Riley, it was only a matter of time before Ethan came looking for her. Even if he wasn’t interested in her anymore since their fight, Ethan was a loose end that he couldn’t have floating around.

  The lock gave under the pressure and he swung the door open. He had to make this quick. He tucked his chin and made a beeline for the kitchen. His gaze landed on the old gas stove against the wall and he smiled.

  Rudy, the property owner, hadn’t changed out the appliances since he’d last been in the property. For a short time, Michael had managed a few rental properties in town and Ethan’s had been one of them. Not that there were that many anyway. Michael brought his fingers to the dial on the gas stove and turned it. Not high enough to start a flame, just enough to let the gas seep out. In minutes, the house would be as combustible as a bomb.

  All it needed was the trigger and boom.

  Good-bye, Ethan.

  * * * *

  The breakfast burrito he’d just run in to grab sat untouched in his lap. The icy air conditioning blasted over his face, making the sweat at his hairline cold. He’d tried to call Riley to make sure she’d made it to work, but she hadn’t answered or returned his text. It’d been almost a half hour since she’d left Brian’s.

  Nate slurped his coffee from the driver’s seat. “Is there a hair in your food or something bro?”

  Ethan swallowed hard and shook his head. He wrapped the food back up and tossed it in the paper bag. “Nah, just have a bad feeling. Riley still hasn’t gotten back to me.” Acid burned the back of his throat. “Something’s not right.” He turned in his seat to face Nate.

  Nate shoved the last chunk of breakfast sandwich in his mouth and wiped the ketchup from his fingers on a napkin. “Did you text her?”

  “I sent her a message already and no reply. If you’re done, let’s swing by the restaurant.”

  “Sure.” He shoved his wrappers in with Ethan’s food and shifted into gear. Ethan laced his fingers together and slowly cracked each knuckle. His forearms bunched with each jerk of his fingers. Bile eroded the lining of his stomach.

  “Do you have to do that? You’re making me nervous.” Nate nodded at Ethan’s fists. The corner of Ethan’s mouth hitched up, and then dropped just as quickly. Ethan’s habit had always made Nate squeamish.

  “You know I can’t help it.” The effort to keep his voice even strained his throat. The sun beat through the windshield, counteracting the blast from the vents. It was so damn bright and sunny out, yet darkness hung its shroud in the air like an invisible black gas.

  Nate ran his hand over his hair. “All right, now my senses are piqued. You’ve always been good at trusting your gut.”

  His stomach lurched on Nate’s affirmation. He was right. The restaurant came into view and Ethan shot forward, his palms gripped the scorching dashboard. He scanned the parking lot. The hairs at the back of his neck shifted.

  “Fuck,” he breathed. “Her rental car isn’t here.”

  Nate slammed the car into park and Ethan whipped his seat belt off. His feet hit the pavement at a dead run. His heart slammed against his rib cage, drowning out the rushing of blood through his ears. His hand closed over the steel door handle, its heat branding him. He tore the door open and stalked inside. Cool air washed over his body, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the fluorescent lights.

  “Ethan.” Jenny weaved through the tables, a pitcher of water in her hand, her dark, slim eyebrows snapped low over her eyes. “Is everything okay? Riley hasn’t come back.”

  His fingers closed around her elbow, pulling her close with more force than he’d intended. “When did you talk to her last?”

  Her chin trembled and worry creased the skin beneath her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting her today, but she came in and then left after I mentioned Brian had been asking about her. That was about an hour ago. I haven’t heard from her since. I sent her a text about fifteen minutes ago. You haven’t talked to her?” Her eyes flicked over his and a spear drove through his solar-plexus.

  “I saw her at Brian’s about a half hour ago. She left before I did to come to the restaurant. If you hear from her call me.” He dug a card out of his pocket and shoved it into her hand. He charged across the parking lot and slid into the passenger’s seat.

  Nate gripped the steering wheel, his brow furrowed. “She’s not there?”

  “No.” Ethan slammed the door and clicked his seat belt into place. “We need to get to her house.” Fear trickled down his back like icy water. Nate peeled out of the parking lot and onto the road. The back tire caught the curb, careening them forward.

  “She could have gone anywhere.”

  Ethan shook his head. “She wouldn’t have gone anywhere without telling me.”

  “I know, but shit happens. Hell, she was just at Brian’s without you knowing. What if she forgot her phone? Is there anywhere else she could have gone?”

  Air expanded in his chest. She wouldn’t have just upped and gone somewhere. There was nowhere else…except his house. She’d brought a bag over the other day. It was possible she could have left something she needed for work there. And, by a stretch of the imagination, she could have left her phone by mistake. It was a long shot, but they needed to look everywhere.

  “She could have gone to my house.”

  Nate slapped his shoulder. “See, that’s a possibility. We’ll check out her house and then go to yours.” He took a quick right, pulled down their street and Riley’s house came into view.

  Ethan’s pulse vibrated in his throat and fear bit hard into his stomach muscles. He never should have left her alone…if something happened to her, it would be his fault. The muscles in his face clenched. Nate took a sharp left and Ethan’s shoulder connected with the passenger side door. Her rental car was gone. Nate swerved the truck to the curb and shifted it into park. He leapt out of the seat and pounded across the pavement and over the perfectly manicured grass. Nate charged up the steps behind him.

  His footsteps shook the old wooden porch as he advanced on the front door. He closed his hand over the handle and froze. Ice water rushed through his veins.

  The door was open.

  “What the hell?” Nate breathed behind him.

  Ethan eased the door open the rest of the way and slid his Glock out from the small of his back. Nate drew his weapon too and squeezed into the open doorway. Ethan hovered his fingers on the warm wood as he slowly closed it, careful not to latch it fully so as not to make a sound. The gentle hum of the air conditioner greeted him and made the hot sweat go cold and turn to ice on his skin.

  His eyes fell to the small wooden table next to the door. Riley’s purse sat there, the strap tangled around it as if she’d dropped it quickly. He swallowed and opened it. Her phone lay tucked inside, as did her wallet.

  The house was quiet. He moved away from the door and balanced his weight on the balls of his feet.

  Nate jerked his head toward the bedrooms, indicating he’d inspect
there first.

  Ethan nodded and moved carefully over the old hardwoods. His gun nestled securely in his palm, his arms outstretched, and his peripherals taking in every inch around him.

  Nothing.

  He breezed through the kitchen and checked the back door. The dead bolt remained latched tightly as he’d left it this morning. His shoulders sank and he lowered his weapon to rub the palm of his hand over his eyes.

  Jesus Christ. She was gone. He didn’t have to wait for Nate to tell him the bedrooms were empty, his instincts rang through him, washing away his hope. His chest rose and fell as he sucked in deep, angry breaths. He’d kill him. From his time at the FBI, he knew that if a victim wasn’t found within hours of an abduction—they wouldn’t be. A growl erupted deep from his chest.

  He wouldn’t let that happen. He charged through the living area and checked the windows. No sign of a struggle or forced entry.

  Not a damn thing.

  Frustration stung the back of his eyes. Nate came out of the spare room and met him in the hall. Deep shadows hung beneath his eyes and he shook his head.

  “I can’t find any sign of forced entry,” Ethan said. His tone had dropped to the level of bleakness that was settling around him like a thick cloud of smoke.

  Nate nodded. “With the door ajar like that, I’d say someone came and she opened it.”

  Ethan forced the clutches of despair from around his throat and swallowed. He needed to focus, to use his damn head and think, not fall into the pit of hopelessness that kept sucking at his ankles.

  “Why the hell did she come back here? She should have gone to work, it doesn’t make sense. And how could he have taken her from her doorstep in broad daylight?”

  Nate cupped the back of his neck with his palm and blew out a breath. “She must have gone with someone—”

  He shook his head. “No. She’s not stupid.”

  “I didn’t say that,” Nate held out his hand. “Hell, it could have been anyone. We have no fucking clue at this point, so if it’s someone she truly believed wasn’t a threat then maybe she would have. And don’t forget she left her purse. That indicates she was planning on returning.”