Chapter 1 - The Letter in Her Hands
Jacey Reed stepped toward the seated man and whispered, “My mom said to give you this if she disappeared.”
Austin Cole saw the faded envelope in her hand.
His birth name was written beneath his current one.
Three tiny numbers were penciled beside it.
Austin knew immediately this was not just a letter.
He didn't take it at first.
For three seconds, perhaps four, Austin Cole simply stared at the envelope held between the child's small fingers.
That frightened Bruno more than shouting would have.
Austin never froze.
At thirty-seven, he had built his reputation around the opposite quality. When other men panicked, Austin became quieter. When guns appeared, his breathing slowed. When negotiations collapsed, his face became unreadable.
But there was something about the handwriting on that envelope.
Something impossible.
“Who gave you this?” Austin asked.
“My mom.”
The girl stood in the center of the marble foyer in a white dress that looked too delicate for the journey she had apparently made. Her long hair hung untidily over her shoulders. There were shadows beneath her gray-blue eyes.
Austin leaned forward.
“What is your name?”
“Jacey Reed.”
Everything inside him stopped.
He remembered a yellow kitchen.
A wooden porch.
A baby asleep against his shoulder while snow collected beyond the windows.
Elena.
Austin finally reached for the envelope.
His fingers touched Jacey's.
Cold.
Far too cold.
He looked sharply toward Rosa. “Blanket.”
The housekeeper hurried away.
Austin opened the envelope.
The first line was enough.
Austin,
If Jacey has reached you, then I have run out of time.
He read on.
Elena warned him not to call the police. She warned him not to contact the federal protection team that had moved her six years earlier.
Someone inside the system had been selling information.
Someone close to Austin was involved.
And then came the sentence that tightened something around his chest.
Jacey is carrying everything they want.
Austin lifted his eyes.
The little girl was watching him.
“What are you carrying?”
“My backpack.”
“Where is it?”
“Outside.”
Every man in the foyer moved at once.
“Stop,” Austin said.
They stopped.
His gaze traveled toward the front entrance.
“Who touched it?”
Bruno frowned. “Nobody. She left it under the covered entrance.”
“Keep it that way.”
Austin returned to the letter.
Not because she is my daughter, Elena had written, but because six years ago, on a porch in Vermont, you promised you would keep both of us safe for the rest of your life.
Austin remembered making that promise.
He had meant it.
That was the problem.
Federal agents had moved Elena and Jacey without telling him where. Austin had convinced himself that disappearing from their lives was another form of protection.
Apparently he had been wrong.
The final words were worse.
Look closer to home, Austin.
The men who came for me were not strangers.
Rosa returned carrying a blanket. Austin took it himself.
He wrapped it around Jacey's shoulders.
“Where is your mother?”
The child's mouth trembled.
“She disappeared three days ago.”
“What happened?”
“Mom woke me up.”
Jacey looked toward the three guards behind Austin.
Her voice became quieter.
“She said somebody was coming.”
Austin noticed the change.
Not fear of the memory.
Fear of the room.
He turned.
Bruno stood near the door. Nathan Pierce stood beneath the staircase. Marcus Delaney stood closest to the center of the foyer.
Marcus.
Austin's oldest friend.
The man who had stood beside him at his mother's funeral.
The man who possessed the only duplicate key to Austin's private office.
Austin looked back at Jacey.
“What did your mother tell you to do?”
“Take my backpack and hide under the bed.”
“And then?”
“She told me not to come out.”
Jacey's fingers tightened around the blanket.
“Even if she screamed.”
No one moved.
Austin kept his voice level.
“Did she?”
Jacey nodded.
A tiny movement.
“Yes.”
Austin's jaw tightened.
“How many men?”
“Three.”
“Did you see them?”
“Only one.”
“How?”
“I waited until it got quiet. Then I looked through the crack.”
Austin lowered himself so they were eye to eye.
“Tell me what you remember.”
“He was tall.”
“That could be anyone.”
“He wore black gloves.”
Austin waited.
“And he had a scar.”
Something changed behind him.
Barely a sound.
Fabric brushing fabric.
Jacey raised one finger and traced the inside of her left wrist.
“Here.”
Austin did not turn immediately.
He already knew.
Marcus Delaney had received a long white scar across his inner wrist fifteen years earlier.
Austin had been there when it happened.
He rose slowly.
Marcus was watching him.
“What?” Marcus asked.
Austin folded Elena's letter.
“Nothing.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
It was the kind of smile friends gave each other when everyone else in the room was nervous.
Austin had trusted that smile for fifteen years.
Now he wondered how many people had died because of it.
“Rosa,” Austin said, “take Jacey upstairs.”
Jacey grabbed his hand.
“No.”
Austin looked down.
“I'm not leaving you.”
Her words were not demanding.
They were terrified.
“You won't,” Austin said. “Rosa is taking you somewhere warm. I'm staying here.”
Jacey studied his face.
“Promise?”
The word struck harder than it should have.
Austin remembered Elena on that Vermont porch.
Promise me something.
Anything.
If this goes wrong, don't let them get to her.
Austin had promised.
Six years late, the debt had arrived at his front door.
“I promise.”
Jacey slowly released him.
Rosa took her hand.
They had reached the staircase when Jacey stopped.
She looked back.
“Mr. Cole?”
“Yes?”
“My mom said something else.”
Marcus's eyes shifted toward her.
Austin saw it.
“What?”
Jacey hesitated.
“She said there was one person I should never trust.”
Austin felt the entire room tighten.
“Who?”
Jacey looked directly past him.
At Marcus.
Marcus's face didn't change.
But his left hand moved toward his jacket.
Austin saw the movement.
So did Bruno.
“Marcus,” Austin said quietly.
Marcus stopped.
“Take your hand out.”
Marcus stared at him.
“Austin—”
“Slowly.”
Marcus removed his hand.
Empty.
He laughed once.
“You're frightening a child.”
Austin didn't answer.
Jacey whispered, “Can I get my backpack?”
“No.”
“But Mom said never let anyone else have it.”
“No one will.”
Austin looked at Bruno.
“Lock the gates.”
Marcus's smile disappeared.
“Austin, think carefully.”
“I am.”
“You're locking us inside because a terrified seven-year-old described a scar?”
“No.”
Austin held up Elena's letter.
“I'm locking us inside because Elena knew my birth name.”
Marcus's eyes hardened.
“And because she told Jacey to come directly to me.”
Austin stepped closer.
“And somebody made sure Elena couldn't.”
The two men stared at each other.
Fifteen years of loyalty stood between them.
So did a frightened child.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Every guard looked upward.
The chandelier went dark.
Jacey screamed from the staircase.
Austin turned toward her.
Emergency lights came on in dim red strips along the floor.
Rosa pulled Jacey close.
Bruno swore.
“Generator should've kicked in.”
Austin looked toward Marcus.
Marcus was gone.
“Seal the house!”
Men moved.
Austin crossed the foyer and reached Jacey.
“I'm here.”
She grabbed his jacket.
“Someone took it.”
Austin went still.
“What?”
“My backpack.”
A guard rushed through the front entrance.
“Boss.”
Austin looked at him.
The guard was holding Jacey's backpack.
The zipper was open.
Inside was nothing except a child's sweater and an empty plastic folder.
Austin looked at Jacey.
Her face turned white.
“That isn't how I left it.”
“What was inside?”
She swallowed.
“A phone.”
Austin's pulse changed.
“What phone?”
“Mom's.”
Before she could say more, a ringtone sounded somewhere inside the dark mansion.
Not from the backpack.
Not from Austin.
From behind the locked door of his private office.
Austin turned toward it.
Only two people had keys.
One was Austin.
The other was Marcus.
May you like
Then Elena Reed's name appeared on the security screen beside the door.
And the handle began turning from the inside.
