Arms of Promise (20 page)

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Authors: Crystal Walton

BOOK: Arms of Promise
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“I thought we just said no more hiding.” She tipped her head to the side, smiled sadly, and retracted her hand. “You skipped town the week after I almost kissed you. You can stop worrying about hurting my feelings. I get it.”

That couldn’t seriously be what she thought.

Pulse hammering, Evan inched toward her. And with all the courage he had, he lowered the guard shielding her from the truth. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than to have kissed you back that night. But you’d just lost your mom, Anna. You were hurt, confused. Of course you’d turn to me for comfort. And God knows I wanted to be there for you. But I was scared, too. Afraid you’d regret it when everything settled. Afraid I’d lose you when you found out I . . .”

He swallowed. If he’d told her everything and given in to what he felt, how much would have changed? The risk had been too high. It still was, but he couldn’t walk away this time.

With a hand to her cheek, he traced a thumb along the corner of her mouth. She drew in a breath at his touch. The torn expression she’d shown all week resurfaced, but now, he understood why.

“Evan, I—”

“Stop talking.” They’d let enough words stand between them. If she truly wanted this, too, he’d give her all he had, would pray it was enough.

His fingers trailed over the soft skin behind her ear and into her hair. Each heartbeat brought him closer until his mouth met hers for the first time. Slow and unassuming, her lips moved with the same tenderness he’d fallen in love with from the very beginning.

Evan lifted back to search her face, wanting to savor every part of this, of her. The pulse beating through his wrist mingled with the one fluttering on her neck. His fingertips grazed her collar, and the flush claiming her skin begged his lips to cover every inch.

“Evan,” she breathed against him, his name like a song washing over him.

She glided her hands up his chest and into the back of his hair with such earnestness, her response shot his heart rate past what he could control. Giving in, he traced his free palm down to the small of her back and pulled her torso tight with his.

A tiny noise escaped her throat and fed the all-consuming love taking over. Every locked-away emotion crushed into her with the passion he’d held for no one else. Nothing existed outside the awareness of finally holding the woman he’d always loved in his arms.

She leaned back slightly, still holding on.

His chest rose and fell, grappling for stability, for words. “Bells . . .”

“All this time.” A sheen of tears glittered her cheeks. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

The same reason he shouldn’t have now. The battle that never relented edged him backward.

Green eyes, deeper than he’d ever seen them, studied his for an answer she deserved. Transparent. Beseeching. They burrowed into him and dislodged the secret he’d kept buried. Willing it back down, he forked his fingers through his hair.

But she wouldn’t let him pull away. Not anymore. “What is it?”

Heart pounding, he met her gaze and inhaled. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Her body stiffened and sent dread raking over his. Would she forgive him?

Another breath. “Anna, I . . .”

A clamor in the stairwell pulled their attention to footsteps behind the door. Bailey lifted her head from her paw and slanted her ears toward the noise.

Evan’s eyes shot to Anna. “Back bedroom. Go.”

“I’m not hiding.”

He clenched his hands. “Anna, this isn’t the time—”

“So, someone’s in the hall. It’s an apartment building. It could be anyone.”

Men’s voices approached. Evan dipped his head. “How many of your neighbors speak Italian?”

The doorknob jingled.

He strode to the window and peeked through the blinds. He had to get her out of here. His gaze bounded off each angle until it landed on the steel railing along the bricks. “Fire escape.” He led her to the bedroom and opened the window.

“What about Bailey?”

Did she ever think of herself first? “I’ll come back for her.”

With Evan right behind, Anna shimmied through the window and down the ladders. Once they hit the pavement, he pressed a palm to her back and prodded her forward. “Keep moving.” He scanned the area, checking cars, windows, rooftops. “Act casually.”

She scoffed. “Someone just flung me into a Jason Bourne movie, and you want me to be casual about it? Right.”

He kept forgetting she wasn’t used to the adrenaline, wasn’t trained to harness it. But at least the primal instinct to escape seemed to have finally kicked in.

At his Accord, he checked under the car for any sign of tampering and then cranked the ignition. “I want you to drive straight to Harris’s precinct. Don’t stop until you’re in front of his desk. You hear me?”

“What are you gonna do?”

He looked behind her. “I’m gonna finish this.”

“Evan.” She grabbed hold of his shirt. “Let’s just get out of here.”

Releasing a breath, he raised a hand to her neck. “I’m right behind you. I promise.” But he had to take these guys down first. No more slipping by him.

Anna lifted on her toes to kiss him and leveled her passionate eyes with his. “Be careful.”

With a reassuring nod, he leaned into the car as she slid into the driver’s seat. “Straight to the station. Don’t slow down. Don’t look back. I mean it.”

As soon as he closed the door, the tires spun over the snow and squealed, but Evan didn’t move until the taillights disappeared around the corner.

He breathed in, out. Honing the intensity she ignited, he steadied his heart rate and redirected all his senses to his surroundings. Every sound. Every movement. It filtered through and mobilized him back to the apartment building.

At the front door, he drew his Sig and eased inside. After clearing the stairwell, he crept up the steps toward Anna’s door, gun still raised. He turned the knob. Locked. He pressed an ear to the door. No sound. Where were they?

A sinking sensation plowed into his stomach. He slung a glance back at the entrance.
Decoy
.

Pulse skyrocketing, he flew down the stairs and barreled outside again. He combed the area until he found a gray Beamer with tinted windows. Someone rolled the driver’s side window down, letting a puff of smoke spew out. The guy behind the wheel flicked a cigarette butt to the ground and smirked right at him.

The car sped off the second Evan launched forward. He grabbed his cell. Each unanswered ring accentuated the beats striking his ribs.
Come on, Harris
.

“Relax, O’Riley. I still have ten minutes till my shift. I’ll be there.”

“Anna’s en route to you. She’s in my car. The minute you see her, you call me.” He jogged up the street to where he could hail a cab. “I’m on my way.”

“What’s going on?”

“Michelli’s guys played me. They flushed us out. Knew I’d send her alone.” He swore away from the phone. Why didn’t he see it coming? He ran a hand down his head and clenched the back of his hair.

“Slow down. Tell me what happened.” A beep blared in the background, the garbled voice of dispatch following. “I gotta go, O’Riley. I’ll call you back.”

“What was the call?”

“An accident. On South Drexel Boulevard.”

Evan hung up, tapped Anna’s number, and hustled around the corner. Ice-cold air seared his lungs the harder he pushed. Muddied snow splashed over his sneakers hitting the pavement. The call went straight to voicemail. He redialed. “C’mon, Bells.”

Backed-up traffic stretched down the road. His stomach tensed. Shoving his phone in his pocket, he slowed to a stop and froze until the shriek of police sirens kicked his body back into motion. He eased forward. One step. Another. An all-out sprint drove him through the throng of people crowding the sidewalk.

Glass and wreckage covered the street. He wedged between people’s shoulders, straining for a clear view. A single car sat sideways in the middle of the intersection. An Accord.
His
Accord. The impact from another vehicle had caved in the passenger side. The driver’s side door hung open. No one inside.

He sprang from the curb and scoured the scene. Blood on the trim. Anna’s smashed cell on the asphalt. He rammed a palm into the doorjamb. This wasn’t happening.

The last of the day’s warmth faded with the sunset behind the skyscrapers.

Flashing white lights circled the car’s panels as a cruiser skidded to a stop beside him. “O’Riley?” Harris jogged up.

Evan scanned the area in search of cameras, snipers, anything. Faces stared back from every direction. All but the ones he needed to see. They were gone. And they had Anna.

Chapter Twenty

Trust

Evan’s hotel desk chair whined as he wrenched backward away from stacks of photos and papers. Staring at page after page of notes all night was starting to turn him cross-eyed.

It’d been almost a full day since the wreck, and still nothing. No clues. No direction.

The helplessness that’d destroyed him as a kid mounted in his chest. Evan vowed he’d never be that defenseless again. He’d trained to avoid it. Now, here he was. Just as powerless to do anything. He pushed out of the chair and started to pace.

A knock at the door interrupted the silence.

Grabbing his Sig from the desk, Evan waited. Listened.

A second knock came hard. “Don’t make me bust down your door, O’Riley.”

Casanova
. Evan strode over, checked the peephole, and unlocked the bolt.

Murphy strolled in with a brown paper bag and drink carrier. He gave Evan a once-over. “Dang, bro. Ever heard of sleeping?”

Evan holstered his gun. “Not until we find her.”

“Well, you at least gotta eat.” He set the items on the table, unfurled the bag, and pulled out two white cartons with foil tops. “Chicken parm or fettuccine?”

Italian aromas infused the stale air circulating in the closed-up suite. “Parm.”

Murphy handed it to him with a plastic fork pinned against the lid.

Evan plopped into the closest kitchen chair and dug in. The first bite warmed his insides and stimulated the hunger he’d been suppressing. When had he last eaten? The hours were starting to run together. Hours he was losing.

A wave of unease rolled in his stomach.

Murphy flipped his chair around and straddled it. “This is what I’m talking about, right here, dawg. Food energy. You won’t do Anna much good without it.”

Like he was doing her much good holed up in this hotel right now.

Twirling pasta around his fork, Murphy glanced up at Evan’s face. “I know I said girls dig the whole dark knight mystique, but you might be pushing it.”

Evan touched a knuckle to the bruise on his temple. A few Advil had lessened the throbbing enough that he’d almost forgotten about it. “Yeah, I, uh, might’ve paid Adele’s Little Italy a visit last night.”

“You what?” Murphy lowered his fork. “Bro, you’re lucky they didn’t kill you.”

He shook his head. “They have what they want. They’re not interested in attracting any more heat.”

“Still. Next time you wanna do something reckless, do me a favor and call me first.”

Evan nodded in concession. He shouldn’t have gone there alone. But after seeing Anna’s blood on his car, he was past the point of rational thought.

A high-pitched meow sounded from under the table. Bailey rubbed her cheek against the chair leg and stretched her front paws up his calf. He scooted backward, and she jumped into the seat with him.

Murphy fished in the bag for a napkin. “So, what’s the lowdown? Any word from Harris?”

Evan hoisted one of the coffee cups out of the carrier while Bailey pawed around his lap for a comfortable position. “He’s got shields canvassing the area still. One witness saw a white van fleeing the scene. Said the front fender looked pretty smashed up.”

“They got a BOLO out?”

Evan scoffed. “That van’s long gone.”

Murphy shrugged with his brows. “True. What about prints from Anna’s place?”

“Nothing. Not even on the doorknob.” Evan hunched against the chair back. “They were just toying with me, man.”

“I bet her pops is freaking out.”

He didn’t know the half of it. “He’s got the entire PD working the case.”

“No doubt.” Murphy swallowed a bite. “Pays to have a position of influence.”

Not if it wasn’t enough. The case went to court tomorrow. If they didn’t find Anna in time, Mr. Madison would give in to Michelli’s threats and let him skate. No way he’d risk his daughter’s life. Which meant Evan had to secure her before the prosecution presented their case. There was no other choice.

Evan banged a hand against the table. Bailey jumped down at the same time Murphy jabbed his fork in the air at him. He opened his mouth, but Evan’s cell cut him off.

He snagged the phone from the table and swiped the screen. “Harris, tell me you got something.”

Harris’s delayed response said enough. “Every unit in the city’s on alert. We’re gonna find her.”

Evan needed Anna safe in his arms. Now.

“The second we get a ping from her ID or credit cards—”

“They don’t want her money. They want leverage.” Evan pushed back from the table, his jaw ticking with frustration. “You should be treating this as an abduction.”

“We are, but we have to cover every angle.” A heavy exhale filled the line. “Anna’s like a sister to me, O’Riley. I won’t rest till she’s safe.”

That made two of them.

“But you gotta trust me to do my job.”

Bailey planted her paws on his shin and meowed again. Evan unhooked her claws from his jeans and patted her head, but her crying persisted. He tore off a piece of chicken from his dish and held it out for her. She gobbled it whole.

He sent a backward glance to the cat dish in the kitchen. Empty. She was probably starving. Man, he was a lousy pet sitter.

The thought smacked him in the face.
Anna’s neighbor
.

He bolted from the chair. “Harris, meet me at Anna’s apartment. I think I may have found a lead.”

 

 

Evan and Murphy made it to Anna’s in less than ten minutes. With it being Sunday and the snow still coming down, traffic was a fraction of its normal bustle. Harris was still en route, but Evan wasn’t about to waste any more time.

On the first floor, he pounded the landlord’s door.

Mr. Reyes cracked it open. “No solicitation. I have you arrested.”

Something about his Asian accent and small-framed stature undermined the threat.

Murphy glanced at Evan with an is-this-cat-for-real expression.

Evan kept his voice even. “Apartment 2C. Open it.”

“Come back with a warrant.”

“I doubt you want to make this a public spectacle.” Evan pressed his fingers to the door to keep it open. “The media will have a field day if there ends up being a dead body in one of your apartments.”

The guy’s face paled. “Dead body?”

“You seen Mrs. Santos lately?”

Mr. Reyes fumbled a set of keys off a hook beside the door. “I figured she was out of town.”

So had Evan. No crossing her in the stairwell. No barking. Anna being unable to get a hold of her. It made sense. But something about it had left him unsettled.

He tugged the landlord out by his shirt. “Let’s go.” The clock was ticking.

Murphy brought up the rear to the second floor. In front of Mrs. Santos’s apartment, Mr. Reyes twisted the key in the lock. A look of dread plummeted down his face, taking the color in his cheeks with it.

Evan moved him behind them. “Go downstairs and wait for the cops. They’ll be here any sec.”

Mr. Reyes scrambled down the steps without hesitation. Evan couldn’t fault him for fleeing. No telling what they’d find on the other side of this door. Maybe nothing. Maybe the kind of scene no civilian needed to see. Either way, he had to find out.

Gun in hand, he jutted his chin at Murphy. “On my mark.” He turned the knob. “Three, two, one.” They swept inside and cleared the room. No odor of decomposition, but a lingering stillness hovered throughout the dark apartment.

Murphy entered the back bedroom while Ethan checked the first.

“Clear,” they both called.

Evan lowered his Sig, his chest caving. He was sure they’d find something. Anything. He slammed a palm into the doorframe and backed against the opposite side.

What was he missing? The bedroom showed no sign of the woman or her dog. Nothing looked disturbed or missing. The place looked . . . perfect. If Michelli’s men had been here, they’d obviously cleaned up after themselves.

“Yo, O’Riley. In here.”

Evan pushed off the trim and followed Murphy’s voice into the bathroom. Other than a faint hint of bleach hitting his nostrils, the room only offered more untouched, empty space.

Murphy held up a hand. “Wait for it . . .” He swung the door shut with his foot. The light caught a smidge of blood along the bottom corner of the doorknob.

Maybe the thugs weren’t as thorough as they thought.

“Don’t touch anything in here.” As much as Evan wanted to tear the place apart with his bare hands now, he knew Harris would ream him out if he tampered with evidence.

He whipped out his cell, but police chatter and heavy footfalls climbing the stairs eliminated the need to make the call. He holstered his Sig, rounded the bathroom doorway, and met Harris in the hall.

Harris stood down. “Got a vic?”

“No.” Evan nodded to the bathroom. “But you might want to start sweeping nearby dumpsters.” The thought turned his stomach. If they could kill an old lady, what did that say about Anna’s chances of getting through this alive?

Harris peered around the frame and reached for his shoulder mic. “Twenty-two to dispatch.”

“Dispatch. Go ahead, Twenty-two.”

He strode into the bathroom, his conversation trailing in after him.

Murphy patted Evan’s back. “Good call, bro.”

Maybe on this part of the case but not on finding Anna. The gravity of not knowing where she was or if she was okay closed in on him.

He kicked off the hallway wall and reentered the bathroom. If Michelli’s guys had overlooked the blood, they had to have tripped up on something else. He just had to find it.

Another officer came in with a camera and a yellow marker for documenting evidence.

Harris motioned to the bloodstain and withdrew a pad and pen while the guy shot a handful of takes. “Get Detective Michaels on the line and tape off the scene.”

“Copy that.” The officer strode out with the camera in hand.

Harris gave Evan a wary stare. “This doesn’t mean Anna’s dead.”

“It doesn’t mean she’s not.”

“She’s their only bargaining chip.”

Would keeping her alive make it worse? He blanched at what Michelli’s men were capable of doing. He should’ve cut them off before now. Should’ve figured it out. He’d been scouring the city for their base, and they’d been right under his nose, banking on him expecting them to be somewhere less obvious.

He balled his hands. They’d been messing with him this whole time, flaunting how close they could get to Anna without his knowing. How easy it was to track her routine, to study her.

His thoughts darkened. They’d probably been in Anna’s apartment, too. Planted bugs. Or worse, hidden cameras. If they’d swept her apartment as clean as they had this one, there likely wouldn’t be any evidence to trace back to them. But just the idea of the creeps watching her on video made his blood boil almost as much as the possibility of what they were doing now that they had her in person.

Evan’s knees buckled in anger. He squeezed his tension-knotted shoulder and blew out a hard breath.

From this angle, the bathroom light caught a scrap of paper behind the trash can. It looked like a torn-off piece of a menu.

He stretched around the base of the toilet to grab it with a piece of toilet paper, stood, and flipped it around.

Harris leaned over him. “Is that . . . ?”

“Mario’s Pizza.” He met Harris’s gaze. “The Port District,” they said in unison.

Evan launched off the sink and into the hall.

“O’Riley, hold up.” Harris jogged after him. “What do you think you’re gonna do?”

“Whatever I have to.” He reached for the doorknob. Every second mattered.

“Not alone, you’re not.”

“I wasn’t asking for permission.” Evan stopped in front of the door. Harris was just trying to help. Seething under his breath, he stole a minute to unclench his fingers before turning. “With all due respect, your boys aren’t going to get within a mile of those docks without tipping them off. I’m trained to be invisible. I can’t ruin the chance of locating which warehouse she’s in before they’re on to us and move her.”

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