UNDERCOVER RESCUE

When race-car track owner Veronica Spencer discovers stolen cars in a garage on her track, she knows she’s been framed. But before Roni can do anything about it, the criminals kidnap her. Undercover FBI agent Ethan Gunn shouldn’t break his cover to protect Roni, but he won’t watch her die, either. Despite his FBI information that says she’s involved in the crime ring, Ethan knows she’s innocent. So he risks it all to help her break free. But now, with killers and the FBI on their trail, Ethan must find a way to keep her safe…and clear her name.

ROADS TO DANGER: Family secrets resurface

“Do what I say if you want to stay alive.”

Ethan pushed her back into the convenience store. “Keep away from the windows. I’m going out. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

“And then?”

“Just follow my orders and no one gets hurt.” He hoped. The last time his orders were followed, a woman almost died.

He stepped out under the canopy. The helicopter’s motor blasted his eardrums, and the smell of gasoline mixed with his own scent of fear. One peek and he could be riddled with holes. But what else could he do? Call for backup, he supposed. But he worried his backup was in the chopper, ready to take Roni in.

Or down.

A car screamed into the parking lot, but all Ethan could see was the gun pointed out the window. Three shots wrenched the air, none at him. He wished he’d been the target when he saw what the shooter aimed for. A propane tank beside the store.

Ethan knew what was coming. But he was too late to stop it.

KATY LEE writes suspenseful romances that thrill and inspire. She believes every story should stir and satisfy the reader—from the edge of their seat. A native New Englander, Katy loves to knit warm, wooly things. She enjoys traveling the side roads and exploring the locals’ hideaways. A homeschooling mom of three competitive swimmers, Katy often writes from the stands while cheering them on. Visit Katy at katyleebooks.com.

Blindsided
Katy Lee

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ

hath made us free, and be not entangled again

with the yoke of bondage.

—Galatians 5:1

He hath made everything beautiful in his time.

—Ecclesiastes 3:11

To Brianna, the daughter my heart chose.

Acknowledgments

I’m the safest driver you will ever find on the road, definitely a following-the-rules kind of gal. So all these speed chases had to be researched and yes, tried in a safe environment. I am thankful to the Rusty Wallace Racing Experience and Gotham Dream Cars for their expertise and training. Honestly, I have loved the thrill of getting behind the wheel of so many different kinds of cars, from a stock car to a Ferrari. The pressure against my head as the race car careens around a turn at 120 miles per hour is not something I ever would have thought about—and definitely would never do on my own. Kids, don’t try this at home, either! But the experiences are out there to be had with organizations like Rusty Wallace and Gotham if you ever want to give it a whirl. Be safe. Drive safe. Enjoy!

Contents

COVER

BACK COVER TEXT

INTRODUCTION

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

TITLE PAGE

BIBLE VERSE

DEDICATION

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

Dear Reader

EXTRACT

COPYRIGHT

ONE

Veronica Spencer’s fuchsia patent leather boots, useless in the New Hampshire soggy spring, stalled on the backlot pavement of her racetrack. The sound of mechanical whirring and the clang of metal tools came from behind the closed bay doors of a dark, unused garage at Spencer Speedway. This was her garage, she silently staked her claim. She had a plan for it, and it didn’t include a squatter.

The damp, cold, night wind matched her bitter mood and fluttered her signature rose pink silk scarf, also not an accessory for functionality—but in the case of her scarves, glamour wasn’t their purpose either. Mutilated scar tissue from a car fire at three years of age covered her neck and right arm. It was the arm she’d used to reach for her mother, who’d sat in the front passenger seat before the flames killed her. Roni’s burns reminded her of the memory daily. The scarves?

They helped her forget.

They also had a way of putting people at ease when they saw her coming. Gave them something pretty to look at instead.

Roni had no intentions of putting her intruder at ease.

She smiled the first smile since she left her uncle grumbling at his dining room table earlier that night.

Perhaps taking the scarf off to show this trespasser what ugly looked like would make him second-guess squatting on her track again for...what? Just what was he doing here this late at night when the track remained closed for the season? The sounds told her he was building a car. He probably planned to race it in the Icebreaker, the first spring race, next week.

Not a chance, buddy. Not on my track. And not anyone else’s after the sponsors heard what Roni Spencer had to say about him. He wouldn’t be the first man who underestimated her influence in the racing world.

The last one would never race again.

Her determined steps picked up, but at the door, deep, guttural voices filtered out and tripped her up again.

Someone gave an order like a drill sergeant breaking in new recruits, or more like threatening their lives. Her hand paused on the doorknob, and her gaze shot to the window a few feet to her left.

The square glass panes were covered with black paper. From afar it appeared dark and unused. Up close it all appeared...criminal. As much as she wanted to meet her trespasser face-to-face, perhaps barging in might not be the way to go. Her choice of weapon was her cutting tongue. Something told her she might not like theirs.

Always known for her uncanny ability to escape trouble, on and off the track, Roni grabbed her cell phone from the back pocket of her white jeans and backed away. Sometimes Reverse saved lives.

Her black Porsche Carrera beckoned at thirty feet where she’d parked it, and now with each retreating step she wished she’d pulled up closer. But that might have alerted the intruders to her presence if she had.

This wasn’t the first time the track had seen illegal activity. A few months back the main office had been ransacked, computers stolen, windows smashed. She loved her little town of Norcastle, but she knew it had fallen on hard times before; many were still struggling. It was only realistic that crime would follow. She wasn’t naive. She was an intelligent businesswoman—despite what her uncle implied and what her ex-fiancé denied.

She’d approached her uncle Clay again tonight about opening a racing school at the track. And again, he’d scoffed. “No man will ever want to learn how to race from a girl. Especially one so...pink,” he’d said. “Didn’t you learn your lesson with Jared? Your own fiancé didn’t want his peers knowing you were the brains behind his driving. Why would anyone else?”

Veronica punched in 911 with a vengeance. She’d handle this without calling Uncle Clay. She’d show him she could manage the run of the place without anyone else. He was free to leave his CEO position anytime. With her brother Wade retiring from the army and finally moving back to New Hampshire with his new wife, Lacey, Uncle Clay’s days of being in charge since the car crash twenty-eight years ago that took her parents and baby brother, Luke, away from her were coming to an end.

Her thumb moved to the call button. Her decision to do this alone meant so much more to her than making a phone call. It meant independence.

But just as her thumb pressed the button, the phone disappeared from her hand. Just like that. One moment she held it in her grasp, the next it flew out into the night. Before she could fathom the occurrence, a yank on her scarf jerked her head back in a sharp, quick, painful snap. Roni’s throat closed to life-giving air. She felt a body behind her, but the identity of her assailant took a backseat. In her struggle, her red hair whipped across her face like a red flag of warning that had come too late.

“You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, chica. Too bad for you.” The harsh voice of the drill sergeant spoke close to her ear as his hand twisted the scarf tighter.

Gurgles escaped Roni’s mouth, her long nails breaking as she clawed at her neck. Useless, her mind blared. But it also didn’t give her any other ideas in its fog-laden, asphyxiating state. Her vision blurred even as she felt her eyes bulge with each painful twist of her scarf, tighter and tighter. Her only thought was when would the pain finally end? How long must she endure the torture? It was the same question she’d asked herself since she was three, when the agony of her burns consumed her, and then, when the sting of being marred for life set in. When would the pain end? The answer was always the same.

Never.

Was that the answer for her tonight?

Roni grappled with the material of her scarf. Her scars beneath would never go away. But Jared’s success on the track under her tutelage these past couple of years had given her an idea. A hope.

The Roni Spencer School of Racing.

Roni had something to offer. She knew it now, and it was why she’d come to the garage tonight. There would be no more putting it off.

And she would not allow her dream to fall by the wayside along with her dumped body!

Roni bent her knees to drop her weight in a faux fall. Judging by the way her scarf pulled down, her choke holder stood shorter than her nearly six feet in heels. She used her tall frame against him. He would have to lift her or risk falling forward himself. As his knees bent, she brought a foot up and kicked back at him, heel first. In the dark, she could only hope she hit her mark.

His hold loosened and both of them fell to the ground, apart. Stunned, she continued to claw at her neck as air rushed back in. Her lungs heaved and spots brightened in her eyes, but she pushed her body to face her attacker before another attempt could be made. He got to his knees and spit. His hands shot out of the darkness for her.

Roni rolled away. She wished she could tell the loser he was messing with the wrong person, but her dented voice box blocked her sharp tongue. Anger surged within her. Had the man known her weapon of choice?

He reached for her again, and Roni kicked out. Her body flew back...right into an unmovable wall.

Her hand reached behind her. No, she realized, not a wall.

The legs of a second intruder blocked her. The solid mass of a strong-armed, muscled man in a black tank and unbuttoned white shirt towered over her. So much taller than the other guy...and so much bigger. She scooted to her right and crab-walked back, outnumbered and outwitted without her voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the guy standing over her barked.

“Me?” Roni squeaked, her throat strained. Her hand fumbled on empty pavement in a last-ditch effort to find her phone. “You’re on...my...property.”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” he replied, his voice low and disgusted.

In the light of the moon, she watched her assailant step up to the tall, hulking man. She craned her neck to see them face off with each other.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Tying up loose ends, because you were sleeping on the job. Now get inside so I can finish it.”

The tall man didn’t make a move. Just crossed his arms at his chest. “You can’t kill her. She’s Veronica Spencer, the owner. Do you have any idea of the media frenzy you would cause? She’s high profile. Her family wouldn’t stop until they got you and every person who knows you.”

“Well, she sure ain’t walking out of this place. Now get inside.”

Hanging around to see who won the battle wasn’t Roni’s style. She made a run for the moonlit outline of her Carrera, Spanish for race and career, but the loss of her career would be the least of her worries if she didn’t get her feet in gear.

Her breath hitched with each rapid footstep, one in front of the other. Her car closed in, her arms reached out. The door handle brushed her fingertips just as her scarred arm was yanked back in a vice grip. Instantly, her legs flew out in front of her as her body smacked hard into the shorter guy’s chest.

He held her with both arms this time. She couldn’t budge in any direction or with any part of her body. Her squirms and painful screams did nothing as he dragged her back to the garage.

“Open the door, Gunn.”

“I told you, you can’t kill her.” It was the big guy talking. Would he help her?

“And you’re not in charge. I am. You keep forgetting that.”

She took that as a no.

Gunn opened the door as instructed, and Roni saw her first real glimpse of him as the short guy carried her over the threshold. Blond hair, curls at his nape and eyes that tripped her up. She went for Gunn’s baby blues, demanding he look at her. See me, she wanted to say. Look at me. I’m a person.

Conflict resided in their depths, but no compassion.

He turned away, and she knew he would be of no help. What a waste of a handsome face, she thought. He obviously lacked brains in exchange for it.

Roni accepted her solo fight, but that would mean coming up with some fast thinking on her part.

First off, who were these men?

Were they friends of Uncle Clay? It would explain their presence in her garage if it was her uncle who let them on the property. Uncle Clay may have fooled the rest of her family into believing his innocent spiel about his involvement in the car crash that killed her parents, but he didn’t fool her. He knew more than he let on, and she wouldn’t stop digging until she discovered everything.

But just how far would he go to stop her?

Would he invite criminals to her track to do his dirty work?

The door slammed behind Roni, cutting her off from the world and locking her inside with killers.

She craned her neck to see how many closed in on her. She swallowed past the burning pain in her throat and spoke as strong as she could muster. “You’re not going to get away with this. I have family in the CIA.” Not a total lie, just not sure if her grandfather could be contacted fast enough to save her. The man lived a secret life.

Her peripheral vision showed four men approaching, tools in their hands. Big metal crowbars and wrenches no doubt meant to silence her.

“You were saying?” The small but extremely strong man holding her spoke into her ear, his breath hot and putrid.

Roni turned her face away to Gunn, the man who had saved her outside, if she could call it saving. In the full garage light, she thought his baby blues and blond curls warred against this whole lethal scene. He didn’t look like the other guys with their shaved heads and tattoos etched into the sides of their necks, heads and arms. He also carried no wrench or any other tool to be used against her. But perhaps his weapon of choice wasn’t of the visible kind.

No weapon formed against me shall prosper. The scripture popped into Roni’s mind from someplace deep and forgotten. Cora had prayed it over her as a child, but it had been years since the Spencer family’s maid had repeated the words. Roni had made it clear to Cora that when it came to God, she didn’t want to hear about anything He had to say. But in these dire moments, Roni didn’t question why His words came to mind now...only the fact that they brought on a sense of empowerment.

Power that she would need against these men.

They looked at her with such hatred. Maybe they weren’t friends of Uncle Clay’s, but of Jared’s. That would really explain the flaming eye-daggers coming her way. Jared Finlay still sulked about her terminating their relationship.

Roni lifted her chin. Jared used her to jump-start his racing career. He got what was coming to him, exactly what he deserved.

And so would these lowlifes.

“What are you doing in my garage?” she demanded and glanced around the bays. Three vans, painted white, rear windows replaced with metal inserts to block the view to inside; car parts strewn about.

She had her answer but didn’t want to believe it. Maybe she was wrong.

Yeah right, like these guys were legit.

“You’re using my garage to clone cars?” she rasped angrily.

Car cloning was a federal offense. Stealing the identity of a legitimately owned vehicle and slapping it onto a stolen car in a chop shop gave the car a new identity so it could be used for criminal activity. Drug deals, mafia jobs, drive-by shootings, you name it. Criminals could get away with a lot when their cars didn’t out them.

Roni sneered at the men. “How dare you use Spencer Speedway as your chop shop. I will not allow you to link my business to your crimes.”

Gunn’s eyes narrowed. His arms crossed at his front as they had outside.

“How did you know that’s what we’re doing here?” he said.

“I didn’t, but thanks to your confession, I do now.” She gave his formidable physique a quick once-over and continued, “Such a shame.”

Roni’s neck wrenched back in pain. Her original attacker grabbed her scarf again, tilting her head until she felt his prickly, unshaven cheek against her. “I should have killed you immediately, chica. You talk too much.”

Something hard pushed into the side of her head.

It clicked.

Roni closed her eyes on a sharp inhale. This was how she would die? Shot down in her own garage. The place that was supposed to be where her dreams of a racing school came to fruition. This was so unfair. But then, when had her life ever been fair?

She looked at Gunn, standing in front of her. No concern showed on his face. It was as if he didn’t care one way or the other if his partner pulled the trigger, even after he’d saved her outside. He stepped up close and lifted a strand of her hair in his finger. “Red.”

“Good, you know your colors. Your mother must be so proud.” If Roni was about to die, she wouldn’t go out cowering.

Gunn stilled, expressionless. Not the reaction she’d hoped for, but if imminent death didn’t deflate her nerve, Gunn’s lack of emotion wouldn’t either.

“You’ve got moxie,” he said. “That’s dangerous.”

The shuffling steps of the other four men drifted to her ears. They tapped their various tools against hands itching to use them. Roni’s breathing picked up even as her chin lifted higher to defy them to come any closer.

“I say we ransom her,” Gunn said with a smirk inches from her face. “Think of the money, boys. She’ll bring a pretty penny.” He let her strand of hair go after one more brush between his fingers. “Her family would pay out big.”

The room went silent. Then a deep, sick laugh erupted from the man who held the gun to her head. Slowly, he released the fabric of her scarf, then the pressure of the gun upside her head disappeared.

“I like the way you think, muchacho,” he said in her ear, then shouted, “Stuff her in the back of my van. We’re movin’ out...now.”

“No!” she yelled, but eager, grubby hands grabbed at her from all sides. All hands except for those of the man who just saved her from being killed...again.

But now Roni knew why he’d saved her.

Money. The root of all evil. And this blond-haired, tough guy with his mocking baby blues was the evilest of them all.

He was also no dummy.

But his weapon of intelligence made him more dangerous than any crowbar the other men carried.

A greasy rag filled her mouth on a gag and her hands were bound behind her. She screeched and twisted with all her might, but one against six proved her fight hopeless.

No, not hopeless, she decided, settling her eyes on Gunn. She made sure he knew he would be the one to pay for every atrocity inflicted on her, right down to each and every broken nail.

The next second a bag covered Roni’s head, putting her into complete darkness. She took solace knowing she’d made her message clear. Like Jared, Gunn didn’t know how ruthless she could be, and also like Jared, he would soon find out.

* * *

FBI agent Ethan Rhodes needed to figure out a way to contact his handler, Pace O’Malley. He had a mock ransom to set up...and fast. With every mile away he drove, the stakes of life-and-death increased and his investigation imploded. Ethan stole a glance at the passenger seat where the vicious Franco Guerra practically licked his chops every time the woman stuffed in the back of the van restarted her screeching. She went through bouts since the second hour of driving north began. Ethan couldn’t believe she had a voice left after the first hour. She had to be so raw.

And scared.

Although you wouldn’t know it by looking at her. Ethan had never met anyone so brash when a gun was held to their head. She was either really sure of her fighting skills, or she was crazy.

Or, Pace was right about her, and she was working with Guerra’s boss.

Pace had enough on her to link her to the operation, and the way she knew they were cloning cars showed her knowledge about it. But something didn’t sit right with Ethan.

Veronica Spencer couldn’t be a part of the organization, no matter what her bank statements read. Guerra had aimed his gun at her head and meant to kill her. Why, if they were cohorts?

Did the woman know how close to death she’d been in that moment? Ethan doubted it by the way she’d lambasted them all for being in her garage. She had been fearless, even after nearly losing her life in the parking lot. Franco had been torturing her then, cutting off her air little by little to prolong her misery, playing with her like a cat and its dinner.

Ethan’s lips curled in disgust. The man was beyond sick. Eight months of getting close to him had turned Ethan’s stomach multiple times a day. The man had no loyalty to any of his men, using them as an example to the others when they “disappointed” him. One wrong move, and it was over. One guy caught with a cell phone a few months back paid the ultimate price when the phone nearly led the cops to Guerra’s door. Ethan didn’t dare have a cell on his person, which meant he was deep under with no contact with his handler. Just a tracker in his boot and a gun on his ankle.

When Guerra’s gun targeted the redheaded spitfire, Ethan knew Guerra would pull the trigger and laugh for days after. But what could be done to stop it, other than blowing the investigation?

Still Ethan had to try.

He had stepped up to her, planning to confiscate the gun and turn it on Guerra, but instead he said the first thing that came to his mind. The word ransom spilled from his lips. The only other thing Guerra liked more than torturing people was money. Veronica Spencer was worth a huge chunk of change. But still, as Ethan threw out the idea to ransom her, his lungs seized as he waited for Guerra’s response. He thought for sure his cover was blown. A year’s worth of going deep, tanked. An innocent woman’s life, ended.

No. Not innocent. Ethan had to believe the evidence Pace had on the glamour girl. Enough to put her away for years. There were even pictures from a street race in Miami with her and Guerra. And as soon as Ethan could get her “ransomed” out of here, Pace could cuff her, and Ethan could get back to bringing down Guerra’s ring—and the man he worked for.

As much as Franco Guerra was a despicable man, he wasn’t the man Pace wanted. Guerra was a car thief and mechanic, a means to much more sinister crimes that his cloned vehicles contributed to.

The man waiting for the cars was the real prize.

Ethan had no name at this point, just the term Guerra used: the Boss.

The Boss was in charge of a whole list of crimes, but it was what he transported in these vans that was beyond comprehension. Drugs, yes, and lots of them. But apparently, the Boss didn’t get the memo that the slave trade had ended. He trafficked thousands of victims in and around the United States each year, and Ethan had finally worked his way up to being one degree away from taking down one of the largest human trafficking operations in the States.

So close he was to cracking this case and infiltrating the operation successfully. So close he was to breaking free thousands of victims by putting away their owner.

So close.

The woman screeched again, an earsplitting sound, a reminder that he had another person to break out of here first. Get Veronica Spencer out before the whole investigation went down.

And if he could, do it without giving himself away.

She kicked the rear door for the hundredth time, and Guerra laughed with delight. “The chica’s got fire in her. I look forward to snuffing it out.”

Ethan’s stomach clenched along with his teeth. He fought the urge to pull over and arrest the sleazy man right there. Instead, he smiled Guerra’s way and hoped that it covered his true feelings well.

As well as his growing doubts in Roni Spencer’s guilt.

If she was working for the Boss like Pace said, why would Guerra try to take her out? A little disagreement between accomplices? Jealousy?

Or was this whole scene staged, made to look as if she was innocent in front of...who?

Him?

Ethan sent a quick look Guerra’s way. Had the man figured out he had an agent in his presence?

Ethan’s hand curled tight around the steering wheel. “Are you going to give me some directions, or are we just going to drive all night?” he asked, acting as if he didn’t really care.

“The Boss wants us to bring our feisty chica to him. He also wants to meet you. He was impressed with your vision to go big and ransom the woman. You just earned your way into the big house. What do you think of that?”

Ethan’s saliva glands juiced. He could taste the victory with this case already. So close had just become right now.

Ethan envisioned the win being handed to him on a silver platter, although knowing the extent of this ring, the platter would be solid gold. He couldn’t wait to tag the platter as Asset Forfeiture, and every other piece of property stolen by this crime ring. If he believed God cared one bit about him he might have thought he was being handed the win as some sort of reward. But that couldn’t be the case. God would never give him anything. And Ethan definitely didn’t deserve a reward, nor did he want any favors. He’d learned it was best never to expect any, especially in his line of work. He had a job to do, and he did it alone. Period.

Ethan switched lanes and answered Guerra’s question with an aloof shrug. “Should be interesting, but I was looking for some pocket change. I thought we were going to ransom the woman. What could the Boss possibly want with Spencer?”

Guerra stilled and glared at him with his beady black eyes. The man didn’t appear to buy Ethan’s nonchalance.

Ethan readied to spring into fight mode, his gun within reach in his ankle holster.

“Remember, muchacho, I’m putting my life on the line by bringing you along. I could leave you right here, if you catch my drift.”

Ethan locked his eyes on Guerra’s black-gazed warning. Slowly, Ethan smirked as if to say, is this a joke? A slow rumble of a laugh erupted from his tight vocal cords. The bluff was a risk, but no fear could be shown or he would be pushing up this spring’s daisies along the roadside.

Guerra smirked in return and chuckled, too, at first low, then loud and cackled. A laughing hyena came to mind, all sharp teeth bared in a wide-open mouth; 100 percent vicious and sickly illuminated by the lights of the dashboard. “The Boss is going to like you, Ethan Gunn. Keep heading north. We’re going to the border. Right outside Canada in a logging community. The middle of nowhere, really. Wait till you see this place. Our chica might never want to leave, if she even could.”

Ethan stilled his hands on the wheel. Once again Guerra’s words didn’t sit right. “And we’ll ransom her there?”

“We’ll see,” Franco said with a small smile and looked out his window. End of conversation.

Again, Roni Spencer felt like a victim in all this, not an accomplice. She felt like an innocent civilian caught up in his investigation.

Ethan bit down on the inside of his cheek, remembering the last civilian he’d snagged in an investigation—and nearly got killed. He’d vowed never again. Solo or no-go. That’s how it had to be with him.

Ethan peered into the rearview mirror to the woman tied up in the back. Not a noise or movement could be heard now. He doubted she’d fallen asleep. She had to be listening to them. Had Guerra’s words ground her impudence into fear? Was she feeling as sick as he was? He had to stop this from going any further.

“I don’t think we should be bringing her,” Ethan said. “She doesn’t seem the type to go quietly. She could get us all killed.”

“Boss’s orders, and what he says, goes. I don’t think you want to get on his bad side. And not mine either. Now drive.” Guerra put his gun on his lap, his trigger finger itching to make his point.

Ethan continued north and thought of his tracking chip sewn into the inseam of his boot. He trusted Pace to be charting his every move north and following with the team. They wouldn’t be too far behind and would be ready to move in with guns blazing if Ethan needed them. But only if. Anything earlier would jeopardize the investigation, and Pace wouldn’t make his move a moment too soon.

Ethan drove on, leading Pace to the Boss, but that also meant leading Roni Spencer into even more danger. Whether she was a criminal or civilian didn’t matter.

He shot another look in the rearview mirror. The bundle on the floor remained still and quiet. Regardless of what Pace believed about her, something told Ethan he’d just graduated from undercover car thief in this operation to nefarious human trafficker. And Roni Spencer was his first delivery.

TWO

Roni’s aching head took hit after hit as the van bounced over a deep-rutted road. Logging roads in the middle of nowhere. They’d left the smooth highways a while ago and traveled far enough from her home that none of her family would ever find her. Not the one in the CIA, and not even Wade’s intelligent service dog, Promise.

The van thumped again and Roni forced her eyelids closed, swapping the tormenting darkness of her shroud for a darkness she controlled. Her arms and legs had long gone numb from the constricting ropes bound to her appendages. They drove her to near insanity, but not as much as her fear. In this moment of stark terror, all she wanted was her mom.

The image that formed in Roni’s mind wasn’t one of the photographs that portrayed her birth mother, but instead, a living and breathing woman, Cora Daniels, came to mind.

Cora was so much more than the family’s maid. She had worked for the Spencers long before Roni was born. It was Cora who cared for Roni so lovingly after the loss of her parents. It was Cora who filled the role as mother through the many surgeries on Roni’s burns and through the emotional pain that followed for so long after. It was Cora who made sure Roni never felt left behind, not when her parents died and not when Wade left for the army. Cora was Roni’s support team when her blood relatives weren’t, when her own uncle—her guardian—found her lacking. Roni pushed thoughts of Uncle Clay away. She didn’t need his negativity in her moment of life-and-death. She refocused on Cora’s loving face in her mind.

As long as she had Cora by her side, Roni pushed on. A life without her would be unbearable.

Cora’s last conversation with her that morning at breakfast filtered in. She’d brought up retirement again. Roni shook it off just as she had that morning.

Every time Cora brought it up Roni would cover her ears and sing “You Are My Sunshine” out loud. It had been their song since the day Roni woke up in the hospital wrapped in gauze. Only then it had been Cora singing because it would be a long time before Roni felt well enough to sing, or talk, or even whisper.

The van took a sharp right and came to a screeching halt, jamming Roni against the side wall. There was nothing Cora could do for her now. These men were killers, and the only way she would survive would be to play by the rules until a ten-second window opened up. Ten seconds would be all she needed to make her getaway.

The rear van doors creaked open and harsh hands pulled her out, feetfirst. Her covering was lifted off her head, exposing the two main criminals from her garage.

Her gaze caught the baby blues, and she dismissed their owner with a turn of her head.

“Time to meet the Boss, chica,” said the short, vicious one. He whipped the gag out of her mouth. “Don’t bother screaming. No one will hear you out here.” He tossed a head to reference the thick black forest around her.

She’d been taken to the middle of nowhere. On a sigh, she nodded her acceptance to remain silent and Gunn untied her feet to allow her to walk. Compliance would lead her to that window of escape. Except when she came around the van, the sight before her halted her in her tracks.

“What’s the matter, chica? Never seen a castle before? This one comes complete with a dungeon.” He pushed her toward a solid stone structure and her hope threatened to wane.

So much for windows.

* * *

Ethan walked behind Roni Spencer, his senses on full alert. Were Pace and his backup crew far behind? Would they arrive before the trio entered this stone monstrosity? He listened for them, but the only sound he heard was Roni’s boots clicking on the cobblestones. His men would know something was up when Ethan’s tracker alerted them to his moving away from the racetrack and Norcastle. Without a phone call to say why, they would swoop in. Ethan braced for the deluge of FBI agents that he hoped would make their move before the towering entrance doors closed behind them. His hand flexed for the moment he would retrieve his gun from the holster at his ankle and join in. His heart raced with the anticipation of finally taking Guerra down. Ethan would make sure he missed the grass and hit the cobblestones when he did.

As soon as Pace saw Roni was here, he would go after her with cuffs. Ethan knew it even without a briefing. His handler didn’t like the woman and itched to take her down. If Ethan didn’t know better, he would think there was something personal between the two, but then, the woman was getting richer off the organization and Pace had been working this case for years. Ethan couldn’t fault his friend for being disgusted with the whole organization and anyone involved. But he also couldn’t allow the man to mistreat Roni when he took her in. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved...what? Fairness?

The evidence said otherwise.

But the idea of her face slammed up against the stone walkway beside Guerra’s had Ethan stepping up close behind her. And just like that he made the decision to let Pace take down Guerra instead. A year of anticipation of doing the job himself flitted away on the basis of protecting this woman. Pace would say he’d gone soft. Him, Ethan Rhodes, an ex-hoodlum from South LA whose absentee father had hardened him to granite, soft. He scoffed.

Franco whipped around. “Problem, Gunn?”

Ethan stretched his fingers to make a grab for his holstered weapon. Staying undercover was crucial until his men made their appearance. If he blew it now, he wouldn’t be the only one dead. There were others working this ring from other places. Corrupt nail salons, massage parlors, even country clubs. The message would be out that the investigation was compromised. The runners of the business fronts would retaliate, and the FBI agents working them would pay. Not to mention, the whole investigation would be botched and back to square one.

Ethan gave his uncaring shrug. “No problem. Just amazed at the elaborate digs the Boss has.”

Guerra’s snarl turned to an agreeing smile under the spotlights beaming down on them and most likely recording their every word. Ethan looked forward to confiscating the surveillance to see who else had come through these doors in the past. He wouldn’t stop until this whole outfit—and everyone a part of it—was disassembled. He looked at the back of Roni’s black leather coat, her long silky hair cascading down it, and thought whatever it took, he would deliver...even her.

The huge wooden door ahead of them opened slowly on silent hinges. A man dressed in a black suit with jet-black hair waited on the other side. He stood tall with his arms down in a relaxed pose. The cavernous room behind him displayed the heads of elk and bear. Ethan judged the bear to be a grizzly but didn’t dare take his eyes off the man to be sure.

“Bring her into the light,” the man ordered. Franco went to push Roni forward, but she stepped up willingly.

Too willingly, Ethan thought. Was there any fear in the woman at all?

Or maybe her involvement was more than opening her track to the organization. Maybe she’d been here before. Would he find her on the surveillance?

Ethan gave a last hooded search to the tree line. Anytime, boys, he thought. But no hint of backup didn’t mean they weren’t out there. He trusted his team to show up when he needed them most.

The man at the door said, “Veronica Spencer, is it?”

Ethan perked an ear for the direction of the conversation in front of him. It would determine his next move. If things went south his gun would be coming out with or without backup.

“Yes. I’m Veronica Spencer.” Roni lifted her chin, her voice clear of any hesitation.

“You’re very pretty.”

Ethan couldn’t see Roni’s face as he waited for her response...which didn’t come.

So, flattery was all it took to silence Roni Spencer’s tongue? Fancy that.

The man pressed in close to her, and Ethan moved up, as well. The guy lifted a hand to her hair. Ethan spread his fingers to make ready for a grab.

“I said, you’re very pretty. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She shrugged. “Sure, but I never believed it.”

The man smiled from one side of his mouth. “Let me assure you, you are.”

“Oh, well, if you assure me, then it must be true.”

Sarcasm. Thick as the wood beams holding this cavern up.

Ethan stifled a cough. Was the woman blind to the danger? Why would she throw the man’s compliment back in his face?

If this was the Boss, Roni could have just signed her death warrant. If the woman kept this up, Ethan figured saving sand from slipping through his fingers would be easier than keeping her alive.

The silence in the room thickened as the man studied her face. Her response confounded him just as much as it did Ethan.

Was this even the leader of the organization? Or another scout?

The man cleared his throat. “I’ve arranged a room for you upstairs. You’ll find it comfortable...and what you’re accustomed to, I’m sure.”

So the guy knew who he had. Maybe that would help Ethan keep her alive.

“I don’t plan to be here long,” she said flippantly.

Ethan fisted his hands and pressed his lips. Oh, why couldn’t this woman be the docile type?

A scar at the corner of the man’s eye ticked. Ethan willed Roni to pick up on the fine line she pushed against. The guy leaned in closer and so did Ethan, ready to remove Roni from his reach.

“Is that right? Was I wrong to show you hospitality, then?” he asked with eyebrows raised to the high wood-paneled ceilings.

“No, you will be compensated accordingly, sir,” Roni replied. “I can promise you that.”

The man’s brown eyes darkened; his jaw clicked. He looked to Franco Guerra with a snarl. “Guerra, I will see you in my office. Now.”

Guerra dropped his gaze with his nod. The response from the car thief spiked Ethan’s curiosity. Never had Ethan seen Franco drop his gaze to anyone.

Ethan’s heart picked up its pace, even as he set his face to be void of emotion. It wasn’t fear he checked. It was pure joy. He was in, and he’d found the mark. Or “the Boss” as Guerra called him, the head of the whole organization.

The heavy door slammed behind Ethan, echoing through the gaudy monstrosity funded by crime and jolting him back to his role here.

A young maid stepped out from behind a closed door, her head bent so low only the top of her silky black hair showed. Guerra cowered off like a leashed dog to the rear of the hall, and Ethan took a step to follow the men. Then two guards who were obviously packing heat followed the maid out into the hall and nodded to Roni to move up the stairs with them.

Ethan took a last look at the backs of Guerra and the Boss. He had a decision to make: find the evidence to take this crime ring down, or stay by Roni’s side and protect her with his life.

He took the stairs. Mutters beneath his breath denied he was going soft.

Pace’s voice in his head protested otherwise.

* * *

Roni’s jail cell gleamed with expensive golden decor likely imported from around the world. The white sateen feather blanket on the canopied bed looked luxurious and comfortable.

She avoided finding out.

The beauty of the room juxtaposed with the ugliness of her captivity made her blind to her surroundings’ appeal. No matter the extravagance, the room was still a jail cell.

Roni scanned the space for possible exits and cameras. She figured at least one guard stood out in the hall, if not more. Big Brother was watching. She cringed at the feeling.

So far her compliancy kept her from whatever nightmare was below the first floor. Could it really be a dungeon in the accurate sense of the word? Who built dungeons these days? Then again, who built castles?

Her own town of Norcastle had an old castle situated on top of the mountain, but it had been built by an eccentric relative of an English duke who moved to America nearly two hundred years ago. The building was now a historic landmark for tourists and hikers to climb to during the summer months.

But this place was different. A newly built replica of a medieval fortress designed for the sole purpose of flaunting wealth.

But wealth from what? she wondered. What exactly did the owner, “the Boss” as she overheard Guerra call him in the van, do to earn all this?

More importantly, how much money would appease him for her ransom if he had such extravagance already?

Roni approached the vanity. A three-way mirror caught her multiple reflections at different angles. Her gaze went to her scarf. From one side, her scars hid beneath the fabric. But not on her right. The right side had a way of peeking out. Jared reminded her of this whenever they were together. She made the adjustment to rectify it just as he would have. In this case, she would have let him. Something told her she had to make the Boss believe she was worth every penny he demanded from her family.

She wondered if they’d been notified yet and absently rubbed her fingers over the fabric of the chair.

“Mulberry silk,” she mumbled when the unique texture stole her attention. The finest and softest silk in the world. She would know after testing them all around her neck. She also knew it to be the most expensive and, at its exorbitant price, she’d passed on it for something less pretentious.

But this guy had furniture made with the stuff.

Again, her captor did not need her family’s money. He had his own. And a lot more than she’d ever seen.

So then, what did he want? Why was she here?

A soft knock came, and Roni heard the lock click over. She straightened up to receive whoever was about to enter.

“Come in,” she said, as if she had the authority to say otherwise.

Roni expected her captor, but when the door opened, the young woman who had led her upstairs returned with satin-tied bundles of linens, her head of black hair bowed as she entered without a sound. The girl hadn’t said a word to Roni before and didn’t appear to want to talk now as she walked to the bathroom. With the main door wide, Roni stepped up to look down the hall, ready to make a run for it.

But just as she noticed the hall clear on one side, Gunn filled the doorway with his massive build and stopped her. The man was a boulder, sharp contours and all, and she would be going nowhere with him as her guard.

“Just checking the accommodations,” he said, looking beyond her into her room. “I see you even have your own maid.”

“There’s also no windows, so you don’t have to worry about me making a break for it,” she spouted back. “Has my family been notified about my ransom?”

“Not yet. Is there another exit from the room? Through the bathroom, maybe?”

“I already told you there’s no way out.” She crossed her arms at her front.

“I was thinking more along the lines of someone getting in. But just in case, I’ll be right outside your door. Count on it.” Then he leaned in, his clean-shaven jaw brushing her cheek, and she nearly jumped back from the shock he gave. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispered against her ear, but she barely registered his words. Frustrated with the light-headed response his closeness caused, she shoved him away from her.

“So you can take the ransom for yourself? I wouldn’t go anywhere with you.” Roni slammed the door closed on his face and took delight in having the last word. Then the lock clicked back over, taking even that away from her.

On a huff, she checked herself before she turned to face the young girl. The maid stood by the bed, her head still bowed, but the bedcovers had been pulled back.

“Hello,” Roni said, hoping the girl would engage.

She only nodded in reply. Her lashes blinked, a seemingly nervous reaction to Roni’s greeting.

“Did I say something wrong?” Roni asked.

A low reply came. “They don’t like us talking. Only working. I can help you get ready for bed now.”

“Who’s us? You and me?”

The girl shook her head. “Other girls. Please, senorita, let me help you. I can’t be gone too long.”

Roni ignored the plea in her voice. Something felt off in this already off place. “There’re more girls like you? How many?”

“My counting is not so good. And the number, it...it changes.”

“Changes? Because girls quit?” Roni would have to think the turnover was pretty high in this warped place.

The girl’s silky hair swished side to side with the shake of her head, but no answer came. Instead she peered out from behind her hair at the corner of the room as though someone watched. A wave of nausea swept over Roni. The picture of captivity this girl painted for her had all the details Roni needed to put two and two together—and what it meant for her. The owner’s earlier compliment of her beauty sickened her even more. Guerra and Gunn had paraded her in here like some horse to be put on the auction block. “They have no intention of ransoming me, do they?”

The girl shrugged again and lifted her chin a bit. Roni caught her first glimpse of her youthful face and too-sad eyes before she dropped them again.

The kind of business the owner of this place ran became evident.

Human trafficking.

“What’s your name?” Roni asked, fighting a surge of anger.

“You can call us sirvientas.”

“Servant girl? I don’t think so.” No big surprise the girl wouldn’t be called by her name. Her captors knew how to make her forget she was a person with an identity. “I’ll call you by your name only. So what is it?”

She tilted her head in uncertainty. “I used to be called Magdalena.”

“Then that is what I will call you.”

“No.” She raised her chin a little farther. “Magdalena is...gone.”

The young girl’s sad eyes had seen too much. Roni could spit nails, but that wouldn’t help this young woman and who knew how many more there were.

“Then how about I call you Maddie. Will that be all right?”

The girl nodded with a twitch of a smile. The smile quickly vanished.

“My name is Veronica, but my friends call me Roni. So you can call me Roni, too.”

Roni stepped up to the girl but dared not touch her. Her scars weren’t visible like Roni’s, but they were there just the same.

“Will you tell me how you got here? Were you taken like me?”

Maddie frowned. “I come from a village in Mexico. My mother, she was very sick, but we were too poor for medicine. A woman came and promised her I would marry a rich, handsome man if I go with her to work. She said she had a job for me. She was speaking our language. My mother trusted her. The woman paid my mother enough for medicine, and I went with her. We drove for a long time. A lot of hills went by. She brought me to a house and left me there. The man there, he pay her money before she go.” Maddie dropped her chin to her chest and finished, “After she left, I knew my mother made a bad choice.”

Silence ensued. “When was this, Maddie?”

“I’m nineteen now. I was sixteen.”

“So three years you have been held captive, forced to work for no money.” There was no sense asking her if that was true. It was obvious this wasn’t a job.

A knock on the door broke their conversation. The lock clicked, but when it swung wide, it wasn’t Gunn this time. It was the owner of this place. Roni curled her fingers into her palms. Never had she wanted to punch someone more. Not even Jared when he admitted to using her to spike his racing career. Not even when he checked to make sure her scarf covered her neck every time they entered the Winner’s Circle to be photographed.

“Sirvienta! What is taking so long? You should be gone by now.” The owner spoke fast, his skin taut over his clean-shaven cheeks, his black hair unmoved by his outburst.

Roni stepped in front of Maddie. “It’s my fault. I was being chatty.”

The man’s jaw ticked, but after a second of staring over Roni’s shoulder at Maddie’s dropped head, he nodded once and gave Roni his full attention. “There’s no chatting here. Don’t forget you are a prisoner.”

Maddie made her way to the exit, but Roni knew she couldn’t let her go. “Sirvienta, I really need your help with...with finding some things before... I go to sleep for the night.”

Maddie paused for direction from her master.

After a few seconds, he walked to the door, fury in his every step. “I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Spencer. In the light of day, you’ll see your future is really quite limited.”

The door shut and clicked over. One look at Maddie’s sad eyes and Roni knew she was just as trapped as this young woman.

She had to get out. Tonight, if possible.

Roni grabbed the chair to sit. Her hand grasped the Mulberry silk and the smooth material repulsed her. “I’m not going to bed, Maddie, but I do need your help.” She glanced around the room and mouthed, “To escape. And you’re coming, too.”

Maddie’s sad eyes sparked with what could only be her last shreds of hope. The innocent girl was still in there somewhere. Whatever tactics Maddie used to save herself from fully disappearing had worked.

Still, the spark died out with the shaking of her head back and forth. “Oh, Roni, not me, but I do want to help you. It would mean so much to me, but how?”

Roni pushed a pad of paper and pen toward the girl, then whispered, “Draw me directions to where the Boss keeps his cars. I’ll take it from there.”

THREE

A guard in a black suit stood at his post by the Boss’s office. From the stairway, Ethan watched around the corner as the guard read an incoming text on his phone. Ethan held his breath to see if an alert had gone out about him being missing from his post by Roni’s room. As soon as Roni’s guard took the maid down to the basement, Ethan made his way up the stairs to the top floor—the floor with the Boss’s office.

Entrance into that office was critical. And so was time. Roni would only be safe for so long locked up in her room. He had to figure out how to get her out of this place, but first he needed to get an ID on who the Boss really was. Ethan needed a name, something Pace could use to hold the guy on while they ramped up the trafficking charges.

Ethan knew his team was out there, ready to move in, but would hold off until they had evidence in hand. Rushing in would only botch all their work.

The guard’s phone rang. He answered on the first ring. “Yeah, I’ve got time. Boss is visiting a lady friend for the night.” He shared a laugh with whomever was on the other end. Ethan wondered at the identity of the lady friend. Had the Boss left the premises to visit her? Or was the lady friend already in residence?

Roni?

She couldn’t be the lady friend, Ethan thought as he looked down the stairway. One floor down was her locked-up-tight room. She was safe inside. He’d made sure of it.

Except the Boss would have a key.

Ethan needed to speed up this quest and return to her to see if she had unwanted company.

But first, he needed to access that office, so he could get Roni out for good. Too much was at stake, and for the first time in a year, it wasn’t just the case.

Ethan waited for the guard to turn away so he could move in for a sneak attack, but the guard started heading in his direction. With his phone to his ear, the man said, “It’s not my job to watch him. Guerra brought the guy in, he should be the one playing hide-n-seek with Gunn.”

So the alert had gone out. He was a wanted man. And the guard was headed his way. The only way to go was back down.

Ethan took the steps in double time and launched his body over the railing at the bend. He shimmied down the spokes and held tight and still, breath and all.

The guard ran past him from above, never looking over the railing at the man hanging between the landings.

As soon as the guard made it to the lower floor, he turned the corner to continue down to the next one, saying, “I’ll check the basement out. We don’t need him snooping down there.”

Ethan pulled his body up the railing spokes and over the railing. He hit the stair treads on a run and took the turn to the Boss’s office. Ethan slipped inside and closed the door on a soft click. The computer sat off to the right side on a mahogany desk. He would start there.

The monitor hadn’t gone to full sleep mode yet from when the Boss left. Having to come up with passwords would have slowed Ethan up. In reality, it would have stopped him in his tracks.

He opened an email account, but no names were listed on the account or any of the few emails in the in-box. Somewhere a name would have to be linked to the account. He clicked the trash files and waited for a couple of dozen to download.

With one eye on the screen, Ethan opened drawers and felt the numerous paperweights lined up on the desk front. They were substantial pieces, some sharp, some blunt. The Boss’s weapons of torture, perhaps? Or death if things didn’t go well for his victims. Ethan was pretty sure a blood scan over them would glow blue.

He picked up a heavy carving of a bull. It was some sort of trophy for the Most Valuable Player for a sports team. The name of the recipient had been scratched out. Figures the Boss thought of everything. But Ethan was counting on someone from his past not knowing him as the Boss. Someone who might email him with salutations to his real name.

Ethan tipped the bull trophy over and saw a compartment had been cut into its base. He slid the bottom cover off to find a single key.

The computer bleeped at its download end. He gave the deleted emails his full attention and found what he was looking for. Lyle Ramsey was the recipient name a sender used to forward some crass email joke.

“Well, hello there, Lyle Ramsey. Does your friend know what you do for a living?”

Ethan brought the computer back to the way he found it. He got what he’d come for. The processing team would take the PC when they were inside, but Ethan doubted they would find any evidence on it. Lyle didn’t get to be the Boss by leaving a paper trail. And no paper trail meant cash houses. Find the cash houses and Lyle goes bye-bye. Ethan didn’t think he’d have to look much further than the basement.

He picked up the phone and checked it for a dial tone. He dialed the secure number for Pace and said two words.

Lyle Ramsey.

Pace would know what to do with that.

Ethan hesitated to mention Roni’s presence. A part of him didn’t want Pace knowing she was with him. He knew what Pace would say to that.

“Do your job.”

Ethan sighed and quickly relayed the message that Roni Spencer was in his custody. He clicked off just as voices filtered down the hall.

“If you brought some snitch into my house, you will pay, Guerra.” The Boss’s irate, booming voice echoed through the closed door.

“Gunn’s not a snitch, but he does have high expectations for your average gofer. I’ve reminded him many times who’s in charge. Something tells me he would push me aside if it got him ahead. If he wasn’t so clever in his thefts, I would have wasted him months ago.”

Ethan looked for a coat closet to hide in. He tried the door to his left.

Locked.

He circled the room. The drapes wouldn’t hide his big frame. Nor would the cubby under the desk. He pulled the doorknob again, but it wasn’t budging.

Then he remembered the key.

Guerra continued out in the hall. “The man’s a chameleon. Gets the job done before anyone sees a thing. Good at hiding out, which is why I can’t find him right now.”

The doorknob turned just as Ethan inserted the key and turned his own doorknob. He was behind the door, safely hidden from sight before Guerra and Ramsey entered the office.

But if Ramsey was here, what happened to the visit with his lady friend?

Was she in the office with them now?

Ethan turned to his side to listen with one ear, straining to make out another person’s presence. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an elevator behind him. It would seem Ramsey had a private line down to the basement.

“And what about the Spencer woman?” Ramsey asked, his chair squeaking as though he leaned back into it. “What does she know?”

“Nothing. She thinks she’s been kidnapped for her money and is here to be ransomed. I would have killed her at the garage, but Gunn stepped in. She can be disposed of now. Her family won’t be expecting her home.”

“Why’s that?”

Ethan pressed his ear to the door, wondering the same question.

“As far as they’re concerned their glamorous debutante was in the car theft business. The FBI is ready to close in. She’ll go down for everything. All roads lead to her. When she disappears, everyone will believe she escaped to the Mediterranean to live on the run for the rest of her life.”

“Everyone?”

Guerra laughed. “Well, not everyone. Someone paid me dearly to make her go away. I got the call to expect her tonight. That’s how I knew to be looking for her before Gunn spotted her.”

Ramsey chuckled. “I’m not surprised she angered someone enough to arrange her disappearance. She’s strong-willed. I’d keep her here, but she’s too tough to break. There’s a reason I tell my scouts to go for the girls who can’t look up. I tell them to flatter the girls. Tell them they’re pretty. It’s such a simple way to start, but oh, so effective. The girls who look you in the eye and say, ‘Thank you’ are the ones you pass on by. It’s the girls who don’t believe the compliments that become my inventory.”

“When you told the Spencer woman she was pretty she didn’t do either,” Guerra pointed out.

“I know.” Ramsey’s voice held irritation. “That’s why she needs to go.”

“So what’s the plan? Do you want me to go kill her? Or do you want to try your hand at breaking her?”

“Neither. I have someone else who will gladly take her. My connection who runs the outfit in Greece. He likes redheads, and I owe him a favor.”

Ramsey went on to talk about a new shipment coming in, but Ethan’s mind blared with the realization that his instincts had been right about Roni. She really was innocent, and if he didn’t get her out of here, she would disappear forever.

Ethan grabbed the doorknob, ready to do whatever had to be done to stop what these men planned. But to run out there now would only get himself killed before he could save her from a worse demise.

But if Guerra was telling the truth, then her home wasn’t safe for her either. Someone she knew and trusted wanted her dead.

If Ethan called in his team right now, Pace would cuff her for sure. She wouldn’t be safe with his men either. Pace was wrong about Veronica Spencer, though. She was the fall guy. Roni didn’t know anything. She was being set up. She was innocent.

But her innocence was the least of Ethan’s concerns at the moment. If he didn’t get her out of here, she would cease to exist forever.

* * *

The map of the estate was a rough-drawn depiction, but it was better than nothing. Maddie had helped with the layout, and knowing that she cleaned many of the rooms, Roni felt comfortable trusting the girl to not get her lost in these warped halls.

Little Xs marked the vicinities where the guards stood, too numerous to count, a military entourage strategically placed, some spots more than others.

The two areas on the map that had an exorbitant amount of guards were her destinations. Whatever required that much muscle had to be significant enough to protect.

Like an exit.

Roni’s bedroom displayed no clock. She could only guess the sun hadn’t made its appearance yet, but it would soon. Then what?

She grabbed at the tail of her scarf in the vicinity of her pounding heart. She needed to keep her fear in check or she would lose her faculties. But physical torture was all too real to her. Years of pain from her burns and multiple surgeries left her with a need to be in the driver’s seat at all times, never wanting to succumb to being in something’s or someone else’s grip again. The memory of being a slave to the pain of years of surgeries and recuperations with no end in sight and no reprieve nearly killed her. If it hadn’t been for Cora she would have lost her mind.

Roni thought of the hopelessness in Maddie’s eyes. That young girl knew the same merciless agony of having no control over her life, and no voice to speak out.

Roni pulled at her scarf harder, realizing her breathing had picked up to an erratic pace. In the mirror of the vanity, she could see her knuckles had whitened with their hold. The understanding that she had been brought to a place where her control was stolen from her again brought on a swift bout of panic. She had to get out of this place. Now.

But how, if she was under lock and key?

She looked at the map again. Thanks to Maddie, Roni wouldn’t be walking blind when she did somehow get out of the room. The girl would be compensated for her help big-time. Roni told her that, but the girl shook her head back and forth. How strange that Maddie wouldn’t hesitate to help another captive escape but refused help for herself. She didn’t believe it yet, but when the time came to put this place in the rearview mirror, Maddie would be buckled in beside Roni.

But first to find a vehicle to make a break in.

There had to be a slew to choose from. What high-class criminal didn’t brandish a showroom full of souped-up horsepower?

She looked at the area on the map with all the guards, the place the cars were kept. Every detail of the route would have to be memorized. She couldn’t keep the map lying around. If it was confiscated, Maddie would pay the price. Flushing it was the only way to prevent fallout and to protect her new friend.

When she thought she had it imprinted on her brain, Roni made her way to the bathroom and watched it disappear. Oh, how she wished she could do the same. Press a button and poof, back in her own house on her mountain in Norcastle, safe from anyone who wanted to harm her. All she could do was be ready to run when the guards weren’t watching.

A knock sounded on her door.

Could this be her opportunity? The lock clicked over, and Roni had one second to make her play.

She reached for a mosaic vase on the dresser and ran at the door. As it pushed wide into the room, she couldn’t see who entered behind it. At full force she barreled at the door and slammed into it with her shoulder, her arm raised high over her head with the vase ready to find its target.

As she heaved her body at the door, she knocked her visitor into a stumble. It took her a second to realize it was Gunn and less than another second to bring the vase down.

But before she could make contact, he turned his body, his arm reaching up to block her assault. He grabbed on to the vase. A battle of strength kept it high in the air, their face levels matched and close.

“Roni, I’m here to help you,” he said, his eyes filled with the compassion he’d lacked back in the garage. Surely a trick.

And she wasn’t falling for it. “My name is Veronica Spencer. Roni is for friends only.”

Gunn pulled the vase from her hand with little effort and tossed it onto the bed. He grasped her wrist still above her head with his free hand. “Then Roni it is, because from where I stand, I’m the only friend you’ve got.”

FOUR

“You’re nothing but a criminal.” Roni spoke low, less than an inch from Ethan’s face. He could feel her rapid breathing brush his lips, the only sign of fear she emitted, and he would have missed it if he hadn’t closed in to protect himself from her assault. Not that he blamed her. Why should she believe him to be anything but a criminal?

“I know what it looks like, but you need to trust me. I’m your friend.”

“Friends don’t kidnap you and put you in danger.”

Ethan slowly released her wrist and stepped back toward the door, his hands raised to show he meant no harm. He pushed the door ajar, just enough to hear the manpower out looking for him coming. He peered through the crack, knowing it could be any second. He’d raced down here as soon as Ramsey and Guerra left the office to join the guards. “Are you sure about that? Because from what I just learned you’re in this situation because one of your so-called friends put you here.”

Roni came at him, her pointer finger raised to his chest. “I’m here because you put me here.” Her ice-blue eyes crystallized as she went head-to-head with him.

The woman believed him to be dangerous, and yet, she didn’t let that stop her from defending herself. He would hate to be on her blacklist. Something told him she would be relentless in her revenge tactics.

Perhaps it wasn’t a friend after all who put her in this situation.

“How many enemies do you have, Roni Spencer? I’m going to need the list.”

“The only thing you’ll be getting from me is my dust. And a slammer in your face. And you can tell your so-called friends the same thing. You’re all going down. Believe me when I tell you that you’re going to wish you let Guerra kill me.”

“Shall I call him upstairs?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t, but I need you to listen to me if I’m going to get you out of here and someplace safe.”

“And why would I let you take me anywhere else after you already brought me to such a horrid place? Do you know there are people kept here against their will? I’m not the only one.”

“Yes, I know, but right now my only concern is getting you out of here.”

“Why?”

Because I’m a federal agent who got you into this place, and now I feel responsible.

Blowing his cover wasn’t an option. There had to be another way to gain Roni’s trust. But how, when honesty was the best policy for such a thing?

But honesty is what nearly got his last civilian killed when he allowed her to play a role in his work. The less Roni knew the better for her safety. Let her fear him if it kept her alive...and in line.

Ethan leaned in. “I’m in the business of stealing cars, not murder. I’m not about to go down for yours. I meant what I said before. Someone you know paid Guerra to kill you. Someone who feels you have wronged them in some way, enough to want you to pay with your life. If you want to live into your golden years, you better start trusting me with a list of all the people you have aggrieved in some way.”

Roni tilted her head, her mouth still pursed in rebellion. “Would that be on or off the track?”

Great. Just what he thought. He wasn’t looking at one list. He was looking at multiples.

* * *

Roni’s ambivalent face in the three-way vanity mirrors proved her indecision from all sides. Her lips curled in distaste that she would even consider Gunn’s offer to help her as legit.

She averted her gaze to the other face reflected behind her. To the man, himself, who should be paying for all the atrocities inflicted on her.

Not earning her trust.

His baby blues stared at her, waiting for her compliance. She searched for clues to any real innocence in them. An innocent criminal. Yeah, right. The idea was absurd. Insane. Crazier than racing without a pit crew.

Ah, and there was the clincher. She knew a racer was only as good as her crew. And she was as good as dead without a team to get her out of here alive.

But to trust a criminal?

“Clock’s ticking, Roni.” Gunn urged her to make up her mind. “If I didn’t care about your life, I wouldn’t have interrupted Guerra’s handiwork at your garage.”

“My school,” she mumbled. Would her dream ever come true now? Would anyone but her care if it didn’t? Definitely not Uncle Clay.

“What school?” the criminal asked.

Roni hesitated sharing anything with this man, but made the decision to test the waters. She’d find out soon enough if she dipped too far. She also hoped she’d uncover a little information about the identity of Gunn. “You can put Clay Spencer on the top of the list.”

“Your uncle?” he replied quickly.

She folded her arms. “Interesting you should know that. Are you working with him? Did he give you and Guerra access to my track?”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t be asking you for a list of your enemies. As for knowing he’s your uncle, I like to check out the places we’re setting up shop. Like who’s running the joint and who might come after me.”

“So that’s how you knew I owned Spencer Speedway? You had me checked out?” Roni’s hand went to her throat. “What else did you learn about me?”

“That’s a topic for another day. Right now, I need to know why you think your uncle would want to harm you. Has he in the past?”

She hesitated. “No, but let’s just say he’s never been very supportive of me.” She dropped her arm and moved to the edge of the bed, resting a hand on the bedpost. “For years I’ve wanted to open a racing school at the track, but he’s stood in my way. Even tried to marry me off so I would walk away from the business.”

“Marry you off?” Ethan huffed. “Who got the door prize at that bazaar?”

A laugh bubbled up Roni’s throat and slipped out before she could stop it. She couldn’t help herself, even if the joke was on her. “That is totally something I would say. You’re a funny man, Gunn.”

“Ethan.”

She sobered. Too intimate. “We’ll see, Gunn.”

He gave her his striking profile as he peered down the hall. “That’s fine. Back to the list. Who did your uncle want you to marry?” He faced her again, and she hated that she liked that view too.

“Jared Finlay.”

“The racer?”

“Only because of me. I taught him everything he knows and sponsored him all the way.”

“And?” Ethan asked.

“And what?”

“And should I add him to the list?”

Roni dropped her gaze to the floor, giving a reluctant half nod after a few moments, questioning how much more information to give Gunn. She would surely regret trusting him. Just as she regretted ever trusting Jared Finlay. Gunn should know how she worked, just in case he got any ideas.

Roni lifted her chin to the criminal before her. “You should know Jared’s days of racing are over. No sponsor will touch him. I made sure of it.”

“So you ruined him. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying I know how to make people who cross me wish they never did. I’m trusting you as you asked. Don’t make me regret it.”

Voices drifted down the hall, followed by a deep voice bellowing, “Where’s her guard?”

The Boss was back.

“Everyone was called to look for Gunn,” someone else spoke quickly.

Ethan reached a hand out and twisted Roni’s arm behind her, catching her off guard.

“What are you doing? Let me go!” she yelled.

“You think you’re going to break out of here? Not on my watch.” Ethan spoke so loud she ducked her rattling ear away.

The door pushed open wide, exposing the Boss and Guerra with more guards in suits. “What’s going on? Why are you in here, Gunn?” Guerra bellowed.

“Caught her sneaking around the place. I was bringing her back to lock her up.”

The Boss sent a scathing look her way, but it didn’t even come close to the one she sent Ethan Gunn’s way. If this was how he would repay her for trusting him, it would never happen again.

“See what I mean?” Guerra said to the Boss. “He’s like a chameleon, but he always delivers.”

The sleazy owner of this place turned his gaze onto Gunn. “You’ve bought yourself another day on this earth, Gunn. Miss Spencer, I’ll expect you at my breakfast table, and you better have a good explanation for leaving this room. You can be sure there will be more guards posted, so you won’t be walking away unnoticed again.”

Roni yanked her arm from Ethan, but he sent her toward the bed with a slight shove. He made his way to the door before the men. As he stepped over the threshold, he looked back at her and caught her gaze. Something in his expression had her holding her tongue from spilling her side of the truth. Once again she wondered why she trusted Ethan Gunn. The man had just thrown her under the bus to save his own hide. He used her for his own gain just as Jared had. He should be receiving her wrath.

Instead, her lips stayed sealed.

Roni dropped to the bed for the first time since being tossed in here. The horror of what this meant floored her. Her panic tripled.

Why? What was it about Ethan Gunn that silenced her? He wasn’t a killer, as he’d stated. She didn’t fear for her life.

And yet, she did.

But somehow, it was different.

Her hand went to her neck and the silk of her scarf slipped through her fingers like water. One moment in her grasp, in her control, the next...gone.

She had her answer, and it scared her. She felt her control disappearing in the presence of Ethan Gunn. He had something Jared never had, even when Jared was in the driver’s seat.

Ethan had power over her.

She never gave that to anyone. So why him?

FIVE

The long, red-carpeted hall leading to the dining room felt like a death march to Roni’s sleep-deprived mind. Four guards now accompanied her. After Ethan portrayed her as the escapee, her entourage had been beefed up to maximum security. An opening for an escape looked bleaker than when she’d arrived. All because she’d been duped by Ethan Gunn.

Hello? Criminal. What did she expect? A man of his word? Criminal, criminal, criminal, she silently reminded herself, as she had done since the moment he had left her room a few hours ago. She hoped saying it enough times would release whatever hold he had on her.

It was probably another reason he came to her room. Yes, he needed to cover himself, but he most likely wanted to torment her with the hold he had over her.

Something told her he knew more about her than he let on. Roni felt her scarf’s knot at her neck. A quick perusal, and she knew the silk covered her well. It would have to.

And not because of Ethan Gunn, she told herself.

The open double doors at the end of the hall were her curtain, and she needed to be more than the spectacle at the show. She needed to be the showstopper. Her life depended on it. And so did Maddie’s.

Roni thought of the young woman. She hadn’t seen the maid yet that morning, which surprised her...and concerned her. Had her owner penalized her in some way? Had he learned that she planned to help Roni escape? Had the man left Roni during the night for an impromptu interrogation of Maddie? Roni’s stomach clenched at the thought of what his interrogations would consist of.

She passed a door with two guards posted on either side. Her recollection of Maddie’s drawn map labeled it the door to the garage below. Getting through those men would take some figuring, if she could get away from her four, first. And who knew how many more awaited her below. Would she even get near a car to hot-wire it? She would need a diversion. The proverbial rabbit-in-the-hat trick. While the goons went all crazy for the rabbit on one side of the stage, she would pull a fast one on the other side. The faster the car the better, too, she thought, speculating about the models of cars below.

The doors were before her and her boots slowed on the carpet. The hand of one of her guards touched her back. Roni pulled away as though he burned more of her skin, but that movement also put her through the threshold into the ornate dining room on a rush. Her heels slid across the mosaic tiled flooring, glimmering like the surface of a lake in the setting sun. If only it could swallow her whole in this moment like one.

A raise of her eyes caught the dreaded man already seated in the head chair, his elbows resting on its golden arms in waiting. His tight lips said for a while.

“Sit,” he instructed with a point for her to take the chair at the other end of the long table. An honor or a tactic? She would find out soon enough.

“Has my family been notified yet?” she asked when she pulled her seat in and mimicked his pose right down to his clasped hands at his chest.

He watched her but no reply came. The door behind her opened and a cart wheeled across the floor, coming up on her right.

Maddie stood behind it.

Roni jumped to her feet, scraping the legs of her chair on the floor. “There you are. I waited for you this morning. I thought maybe you—” Roni cast a glance at the Boss, before finishing “—weren’t well.”

Maddie kept her head down as she lifted the serving dishes to place them on the table. She gave no inclination she even heard Roni. When she picked up Roni’s goblet to pour her juice, Roni put out her hand to stop her.

“I can pour my own juice.”

The liquid jostled over the rim of the glass.

“You were told to sit,” the Boss spoke, his voice heavy with an unspoken threat.

Slowly, Roni pulled her hand back and found her seat again.

“You are not to address the help. They have a job to do, and it would do you well to watch carefully.”

Roni picked up her napkin, opening it to fit over her lap. “Where I come from, we treat our help differently. Our maid is treated like family. She sits with us for meals.”

“You will need to leave those notions behind. Servants are to be treated as servants, not family. Knowing their place is what makes them happy.”

“I would have to disagree. There is nothing wrong with being a maid. It’s a job to be proud of and blesses both parties. When they’re paid well of course.”

The Boss sipped his tea, and his eye twitched, accenting a tiny scar by his right eye. He brought the cup back to the saucer with a clatter.

Roni continued to speak over it, not letting it cut into her nerves. “My maid, Cora, has been with my family since before I was born. We’re devoted to her as much as she is to us, and because of that, she’s never wanted to leave.”

Until recently anyway.

Roni kept that to herself. No need to go into the details of Cora’s retirement. “All I’m saying is your servants might not feel the same way as you do about their place.”

“Remove your scarf.”

Roni jolted at the request. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me. I don’t repeat myself.” Not a hair of the man’s slick black hair moved.

Roni lifted a hand to her throat where the silk covered her scars. She quickly brought it down to grab her fork. “I would rather not. It’s my signature piece. I’m never seen without it.”

The scrambled eggs on her plate looked as if they would lodge in her throat if she dared put them down it. She reached for the juice and took a sip, then another and another. Returning it to the white-clothed table, she moved some more eggs around the plate. Her fork hit something hard.

Roni paused and looked back at the man across from her. Two of her remaining guards had stepped up beside him from out of nowhere. The Boss waved a finger and they moved down the sides of the table toward her, their eyes only on her scarf.

Roni wanted to move her eggs to find out what was under them, but she also needed to protect her neck from being exposed.

She reached for her napkin to blot her mouth and threw it over the eggs just as she stood up, upending her chair to the floor.

“Step away from me,” she said with a glare at both men.

“They only follow orders from me, Miss Spencer. Something else you need to learn how to do, as well.”

Just then Ethan and Guerra entered the dining room. They halted as one of the guards wrapped both arms around her, pinning her arms down so the other man could pull at the knot at her throat.

“Drop your hands!” Ethan shouted.

Roni willed him to look away. Why did he have to come in now? She wasn’t ready for the disgust in his eyes when he saw what was beneath the silk. She wondered if she would ever be ready.

And yet, at the same time she wanted to shield his view, a hope blossomed that her scars wouldn’t matter to him. What if he was different?

Before the idea took root, Ethan frowned.

Roni thought maybe the scars had already made an appearance, and he caught his first glimpse, but with the guard’s hands at her neck, she knew that wasn’t the case.

Ethan could only be frowning because he already knew.

After all, he’d checked her out.

Disappointment waged war with anger. Both responses were enough for her to fight her own battles, and she twisted with all her might to free herself from the guard’s pawing hands.

Ethan reached for the other man still holding her.

But not fast enough.

It was over before she knew it. One moment her neck was covered, the next, her imperfections were exposed for all to see...and judge.

The man behind her dropped her as though she’d burned him. The one with her scarf held his hand frozen in midair. The Boss slowly stood, his hands gripping the edge of the table. She raised her gaze to his face and saw the familiar cringe, the distasteful curl of lips, but there was something different in his eyes that she was not used to seeing.

Anger.

Usually people’s eyes widened and they looked away to some sudden interesting occurrence off in the distance. A child might stare and snicker or point and ask what happened, but adults never did. But they also never turned eyes so boiling on her that her skin could melt again.

“Kill her.”

The words spilled from his lips in smooth clarity but bounced off her ears as her mind rejected the command as real.

Then the man who held her arms down before wrapped an arm around her throat.

Roni reached for his tightening forearm, knowing she couldn’t stop the quick death coming her way. She closed her eyes, but suddenly the arm fell away lifeless in her hand. She had no time to understand why, but a quick turn of her head showed Ethan dropping the unconscious man to the floor.

He jerked his head to his left, and she took that as her cue to run for it, but a lift of his boot caught her attention. He reached for something and a tear of fabric could be heard.

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