USA TODAY bestselling author Regan Black returns with a pulse-pounding new Escape Club Heroes romance!

After escaping a world of ruthless crime with her child, Shannon Nolan finally thought she’d left her nightmares in the past. Then the worst thing she could imagine happens: her son is kidnapped! With nowhere else to run and no one else to trust but her boss, she puts her life in Daniel Jennings’s hands.

Firefighter Daniel knows Shannon is safe under his protection, but the one threat he doesn’t want to face is his growing passion for her. Moreover, she’s vulnerable and isn’t searching for love. But as they put everything on the line to rescue her son, that very connection might just be what saves them all...

She could barely get the words out. “He said he’d send Aiden back to me in pieces if I involved the police.”

“Oh, Shannon.” He rubbed her shoulder.

The immense sympathy in those two words overwhelmed her. She didn’t know if she should lean into him or run away. “Thank you for helping her and fixing everything.”

“I followed you to help you,” he said, a lick of impatience in his voice. “You need to report this.”

“If I do and they hurt my baby, it will be my fault. I can’t live with that.”

“What’s really going on?”

“I don’t know much more than you do.” She didn’t realize she was crying again, or that Daniel had her wrapped in his arms until the fabric under her cheek was damp.

“Will you trust me?” Daniel asked when she quieted.

It seemed she already did.

* * *

Be sure to check out the next books in this miniseries:

Escape Club Heroes—Off-duty justice, full-time love

* * *

If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense

Dear Reader,

Welcome back to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, home of the Escape Club! This riverside hot spot for music lovers has also become known as a safe haven for people with problems that slip through the cracks of typical law-enforcement channels.

Daniel Jennings is facing a turning point. Will he take on more responsibility with his family’s construction company or stick with his passion of serving the community as a firefighter? It’s good to have options, but what he needs is some objective guidance.

An employee of Jennings Construction, Shannon Nolan, is facing a nightmare. When her young son is kidnapped while she’s at work, her relationship with her boss, Daniel, gets complicated. Yet soon it’s clear she’ll never see her son again without help from Daniel and his connections at the Escape Club.

Spending time with these characters became an intriguing and lovely study in what family means to each of us. I loved Shannon’s tenacity to carve out an ideal life with her son despite a deadly threat and Dan’s resolve to break through her stubborn, protective layers. I hope you’ll enjoy their journey and that soon these characters will feel like family to you, too.

Live the adventure,

Regan Black

Protecting Her Secret Son

Regan Black

www.millsandboon.co.uk

REGAN BLACK, a USA TODAY bestselling author, writes award-winning, action-packed novels featuring kick-butt heroines and the sexy heroes who fall in love with them. Raised in the Midwest and California, she and her family, along with their adopted greyhound, two arrogant cats and a quirky finch, reside in the South Carolina Lowcountry, where the rich blend of legend, romance and history fuels her imagination.

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For my grandmother. Her love, belief and wisdom carried me every day of her life. She epitomized courage, determination and motherhood and never turned down an opportunity to make her family or the world a better place.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Shannon Nolan loved this stage of a building project, the spark and buzz in the air when the crew rode the rush of adrenaline as they neared another finish line. Dipping her brush in the small cup of paint, she glided another coat of glossy gray over the wide wood trim around the doors and windows. Her boss’s eye for design was almost as good as his eye for detail. It only spurred her on knowing that, when she was done here, she’d be assigned to the pro bono project the company had taken on last month.

Another perk of working for Jennings Construction, she thought. Beyond the steady work, good pay and great supervisors that made it easier on her as a single mom, the company kept a finger on the pulse of the community and frequently stepped in to help. The way she understood this project, a charity group had reached out to her boss, Daniel Jennings, and his father, the company owner, for help remodeling a home to make it more accessible for a police officer injured in the line of duty. She couldn’t wait to get over there and pitch in.

“That’s coming along, Shannon.”

Speak of the devil, she thought, smiling to herself. She carefully finished painting the section before turning to greet Daniel. Since he was a Philadelphia firefighter, the construction work was his secondary interest, although he could easily make an excellent living based on his construction skills. With his black hair, dark blue eyes and fit body, he probably made hearts race whether he was in his turnout gear or the Jennings T-shirt, jeans and loaded tool belt he wore now.

“We appreciate you coming in on a Saturday,” he said.

“No problem.” She stepped back to check her work. “The extra hours this week are a big help to me.”

He was paying her time and a half. The extra pay would be a welcome boost heading into the holidays. In her mind, she already had the money divided between her son’s college fund and the Christmas fund. At four years old, Aiden had a wish list for Santa Claus that ran toward a big-boy bike, a train set, Lego blocks and the perpetual request for a puppy. Although they were in a no-pet rental now, once they had a house with a little yard—still two years to go on that goal—she planned to make his puppy wishes come true.

The Christmas lists would only grow more elaborate and expensive as her son got older. However, raising him alone was a decision she’d never regretted. Despite the challenges and the occasional longing for adult conversation, she enjoyed every high and low moment with her son while squeezing the most out of every dollar she could earn.

Daniel cocked a hip and rested a hand on the hammer in his belt. “You’ve done great work for us. I can certainly use more time in the coming weeks if you’ve got it to spare.”

She wanted to leap on the offer and purposely bit back the instant agreement. Her budget was like walking a tightrope and everything had to be balanced with Rachel, the friend and neighbor who kept an eye on Aiden while she worked. “Are you talking about the charity house?”

“Yes.” He stepped up to the window, peering out at the crew. “The timeline is ridiculously tight there, but we need to get it done before the weather changes.”

As the end of October closed in, the temperature would drop and the first reward would be the trees going from bright summer greens to the burnished tones of autumn golds and reds. It was her favorite season. The transition meant longer sleeves and shorter days packed with trips to the park for Aiden to play and collect fallen leaves. How much of that time did she want to miss for the sake of enhancing her bottom line?

“That sounds like you want me doing more than painting.”

“You’re one of our best with tile. That new ADA shower is big, not to mention the flooring. Plus upgrades in the kitchen, too, that could fall to you. I mean to take this one beyond practical. I want it to be something special,” he finished, his jaw set in a determined line.

That required lots of hours added on to her usual painting and finishing work with those tasks. She knew they were going with the best and most efficient crew there, for the family as well as the general company schedule.

When he shifted his stance to face her, the sunlight through the window seemed to disappear in his thick black hair and sparkle in his deep blue eyes. Belatedly, she realized he was smiling at her, patiently waiting for some reply.

“I can manage all of that.” She resumed her painting, deliberately shaking off the lingering effect of her curious hormones. Gorgeous and hot Daniel was her boss. While she had yet to count herself out of the dating game, being a single mom cast a big shadow over that aspect of her life.

“What’s on tap for the rest of your weekend?” Daniel asked.

“Nothing too exciting.” At least nothing he would find exciting. She and Aiden had a standing plan of action on Saturdays. After the obligatory trip to the park for slides and swings, there would be a big cheese pizza to go with the cartoon superhero marathon tonight. Once Aiden was in bed, she planned to tape off her tiny kitchen and give it a fresh coat of paint. “I’m giving my kitchen a little face-lift.”

“Need any help?”

She carefully set the brush across the cup of paint. Avoiding his gaze, she floundered for a polite way to turn him down. He had to know she had a son. She didn’t keep Aiden a secret from the crew, and Daniel had been on the site at least once or twice when she’d had Aiden with her to watch the big delivery trucks or cement mixers. On his fourth birthday, the crew had given him a tool belt complete with plastic tools so he could pitch in when she brought him to visit a site.

In her back pocket, her cell phone buzzed, belting out the old-school ringtone she used for unknown calls and text messages. Saved from the awkward moment, she set aside the paint cup and pulled out her phone, swiping the screen to view the text.

No words, only a picture of her son. He was strapped into a car seat, his shirt rumpled, his pale blond hair windblown, and his cheeks and eyes were red. His lashes were spiked with tears and his lower lip thrust forward in a pout.

What had happened? Why would her neighbor send this rather than call? Then she realized what she was looking at and her heart thudded in her chest. The fabric on the booster seat was all wrong and Rachel’s van didn’t have black leather upholstery.

Staggered, terrified by her worst fears, she dropped the phone as she doubled over, clutching her stomach as if she’d taken a punch.

Daniel caught the phone and steadied her with a hand at her elbow. “Shannon? What’s wrong?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

The ringtone sounded as another text came in and she grabbed the phone from Daniel.

If you want to see your son again, tell his father to cooperate.

Her stomach clenched and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Whoever was behind this had chosen the wrong leverage. She’d never had any influence over Aiden’s father. Naturally, the sender’s number was blocked, but she hit the icon to call back anyway. It rang and rang, and no one answered.

“I have to go,” she said. With tears blurring her vision, she scrolled through her call history and dialed the sitter. No answer. She tried Rachel’s house phone, stumbling out the front door of the nearly complete job site.

“Hang on,” Daniel said.

“Can’t.” She had to get over there, had to find Aiden. Dreadful scenarios tore through her mind, each worse than the last as she bolted across the lawn for her car. How had anyone connected Aiden to his father? It seemed all her precautions had done no good at all.

“Shannon!” Daniel’s voice followed her, the sound faint as if reaching for her from the far end of a long, dark tunnel.

She ignored him, focused solely on getting to the sitter’s house. Denial warred with logic, all of it blurred by a frantic desperation. Digging into her front pocket, she found her car keys.

She’d barely pressed the unlock button when her wrist was caught. Bigger, calloused, Daniel’s hand took her key and held her in place.

“Let me go.” She reached for the key, missed.

“You’re in no condition to drive,” he said in that unflappable way he had.

“Let me go!” She twisted against his grip, made zero progress.

His eyes were filled with concern. “What happened?”

“My son is—is...” She couldn’t finish the sentence, not until she had proof this wasn’t some sick joke. She had to see for herself that Aiden wasn’t safely where she’d left him early this morning. “The sitter called,” she fibbed.

“I’ll drive.”

“No.” She couldn’t, this was her son, her responsibility. “I’m okay. I just need a second.” She gulped in air, forced it out. “The call startled me, that’s all.” She held out her open palm for the car key. “I’m okay. I need to get over there.” Another breath. “I’ll come right back.” A cold wave of fear crashed over her. Please don’t let that promise turn into a lie.

Through narrowed eyes, his mouth thin and tugged down on one side, her boss studied her with the same drawn-out assessment he gave to imperfect corners and uneven subfloors. Reluctantly, he handed her the car keys.

She pushed her lips in to a smile, knew she’d failed to sell it when he scowled. “I’ll be right back.” Opening the car door, she slid behind the wheel. As she pulled away from the curb, she used the hands-free button on her steering wheel to dial Rachel again.

With every unanswered ring, she cursed Aiden’s father, cursed herself for falling for the glossy facade hiding his ugly nature. She reminded herself that without him, she wouldn’t have Aiden, the love of her life. Of course, without her brutal ex she wouldn’t be terrified for Aiden’s safety right now, either. It was a circular, unwinnable chicken-and-egg argument that had no real bearing on the crisis at hand.

In her rush to get to the sitter’s house and see firsthand what was going on, Shannon pushed the speed limits and ran yellow lights, heedless of the truck following her.

She’d left her husband nearly five years ago, relieved for once that his connections paved the way for what might have been the fastest divorce on record in New York. After much deliberation, she’d chosen Philadelphia to start over, creating a new life for herself just in time to become a mother.

How had anyone tied Aiden to his father? She’d changed her name and left her ex’s name off Aiden’s birth certificate, refusing to saddle her son with that burden.

She parked in front of the sitter’s house and raced up the lawn, shouting for her friend and her son. “Rachel! Aiden!”

Dialing Rachel’s cell phone again, she followed the sounds around to the backyard. Her breath stuttered when she saw the gate swinging back and forth in the breeze, the latch broken. She pushed through, still shouting.

The yard was empty and far too quiet. The swings on the playset swayed listlessly, no boyish laughter spilled from the fort and the trucks in the sandbox were stalled out.

Aiden had raced to the playset when she’d dropped him off this morning while Rachel’s twin boys, a year older than Aiden, had been carving ruts in the sandbox with their dump trucks.

As she turned for the kitchen door, her heart leaped into her throat. The door had been forced open, the doorjamb a splintered mess above and below the lock. Her phone rang in her hand as she debated whether or not to call for help.

“Hello?”

“If you call the police, I’ll send the kid back to you in pieces,” a man said.

She blinked and turned her face to the sun in an effort to erase the terrifying images the rough, mean voice created.

“Mommy!”

Aiden’s voice carried over the line, bringing her a rush of relief along with the pain of knowing a stranger held her son hostage. “Let me talk to him,” she pleaded.

“Sure thing. Just as soon as his father toes the line. I want my property and an apology to go with it.”

The call ended and the cruelty in that unfamiliar voice quashed Shannon’s hope. Aiden would not be inside the house.

A sob tore free from her throat on a tide of emotion. Her son was gone, out of sight and out of reach, but still alive. Would the same be true for Rachel and her boys? If her ugly past had brought harm to her friend and neighbor, too, she’d never forgive herself.

“Stop!”

She spun around, struggling to fit her boss into the miserable context of this godforsaken day. “Daniel?” He should be at the site, not here. “How did you...?” Her voice trailed off as she figured it out.

“I followed you,” he replied, confirming her guess. “What are you doing here?”

Rachel’s phone had gone silent, so she hit redial. “My son.” She choked. “Should be here. H-he’s not.” Daniel wasn’t a cop, but he knew plenty of them. She had to tread carefully. Aiden’s life depended on it. “The sitter should be inside.” With the phone in her hand, she fought tremors as she pointed to the busted door. “I need to check on them.”

“Hold up.” He stepped in front of her. “We need to call the police first.”

“No!” She made a grab for his phone. “You can’t call anyone or he’ll hurt Aiden.”

“He who? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “Just hold off on the police for a minute and let me check on my sitter and her kids. I’m going inside.” She used her elbow to nudge aside the broken door, calling Rachel’s name again. Daniel followed, silent as a shadow. She found her friend’s cell phone under the toe kick of the kitchen island, the screen cracked.

As the ringing died and the voice mail message came through her phone, Shannon caught the unmistakable sound of crying children from the other side of the basement door. The doorknob was broken off, preventing their escape.

“Rachel? Boys? Are you okay?”

The crying faded and she heard shushing noises. “Shannon, is that you?”

“Yes.” Relieved, she felt her hammering pulse ease a bit, though her friend’s voice was faint and full of pain. “Are you hurt? Should I call an ambulance?”

“No. No police!” Rachel coughed and sputtered, tried to talk again. “I’m fine. The boys are fine. They said no police.”

They. So more than one person attacked her neighbor, kidnapped her son. “I know. It’s okay,” Shannon assured her. “She sounds weak,” she murmured to Daniel. “How do we get her out?”

Daniel ran his hands over the door hinges. “On it. Give me a second.” He jogged out of the house.

As she spoke through the door with the boys, they confirmed Rachel’s claim that they weren’t injured. She hoped the same held true for their mother.

Daniel returned, tool belt slung over his shoulder. He made quick work of popping out the hinges and Rachel and her boys emerged from the basement.

For a long moment, Rachel clung to Shannon, quaking from the ordeal. When she finally sat down at the kitchen table, her brown eyes were filled with worry and sorrow. Her gaze shifted between Shannon and Daniel. “You didn’t call the police? He’s not a cop?”

“No,” Shannon replied. “This is my boss, Daniel Jennings. He followed me when I left the job site.”

“Thank God.” Rachel hugged her boys close. “Oh, that’s horrible and I know it.” She pressed her hands to her face, hugged her boys again. “They took Aiden. I’m sorry.” Tears flooded her eyes, rolled down her cheeks. “They promised to come back if we called anyone. Not that I had a phone to use down there. How did you know?”

Shannon couldn’t say the words, just pulled up the messages and showed Rachel. Daniel, too. No sense hiding the truth of this fiasco from him now. He scowled for a long moment at the phone, but he didn’t say anything.

Meeting Shannon’s gaze, Rachel only cried harder. Daniel handed her a roll of paper towels. “They had Aiden before I knew what was going on,” she said, blotting her face dry. “I’m so sorry, Shannon. You know I love him like my own.”

“I know.” She sat down and hugged her friend, taking and offering comfort through an unthinkable crisis. “They didn’t hurt your boys?”

“These two seem to be fine,” Daniel said gently. He had the twins perched on stools at the kitchen island and had given them each a juice box. He handed Rachel a bottle of water. “Tell us how it went down.”

“I heard a loud bang near the gate and suddenly two men stormed into the yard, out of nowhere.” She tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and dabbed at her eyes.

“They smashed the gate like Hulk,” one of the twins reported, while his brother nodded.

“I was over there—” she pointed “—at the sink, watching the boys play while I cleaned up breakfast. And...” She coughed again.

“Take your time.” Shannon urged her to sip the water.

Rachel obliged. “One of them had my boys,” she continued. “The other was hauling Aiden off the swing, toward the gate.

“There was no time to react. I grabbed my phone to call for help, but it was too late. The one with the twins kicked the door in and shoved his way inside with my boys.” She went over and laid a hand on each head. “He pushed them through the basement door. I screamed and he sprayed something in my face. Knocked my phone out of my hand.” Lost in the recollection, she stared at the cracked phone screen.

“How long ago?” Daniel prompted.

“Two hours, maybe?” She squinted at the oven clock. “No, a little more than that. We’d just had breakfast.”

Shannon’s vision blurred with tears. Two hours was a big head start. “They only called me a few minutes ago. They could be anywhere with Aiden by now.”

“Did he say anything?” Daniel asked.

“Told me not to make a report or—or else.”

Daniel’s nostrils flared and Shannon had the feeling he was suppressing a string of choice words and opinions unfit for the ears of little boys.

“Did they say anything to you guys?” Daniel asked the twins.

“They were bossy,” the first twin replied.

“And mean,” his brother added. “They smelled like spaghetti.”

“Seriously?” Daniel cocked his head.

The boys nodded in unison.

Rachel shrugged. “Maybe. Whatever he sprayed in my face made me groggy and choked me. I woke up on the landing, the boys crying over me and trying to wake me up.”

“You always wake up when we cry,” one twin declared.

“We can take you to a hospital,” Daniel offered. “Get you checked out.”

“I’m fine,” Rachel said.

“The cough may be more related to the spray,” he said. “You shouldn’t take the chance.”

“Not now, not today,” she insisted. “What are you going to do?” she asked Shannon.

What could she do? “I’m not sure,” Shannon confessed, staring at her phone. “I won’t report it,” she promised Rachel.

“You have to,” Daniel countered. “The kidnappers are gone, coming back isn’t smart.”

She shook her head as Rachel gasped in fear. “I believe the threats. I won’t put this family at risk.” She pulled Rachel into another hug. “I don’t know why this happened, but I don’t want you in the middle of it.”

“The men this morning put me in the middle of it. You’re one of my best friends. You and Aiden are family. Whatever you need, we’ll help.”

Moved beyond words, Shannon could only hug her again.

Daniel pulled out his phone. “I’m calling one of the guys to take care of this door and the gate.” He turned the phone to Rachel. “Is there someone else to stay with you when he’s done?”

“My husband’s traveling on business. He won’t be home until next week.”

Shannon caught the flare of concern in Daniel’s dark blue eyes. “I’d feel better if you could go somewhere else for a few days at least. You shouldn’t be here alone,” she said.

When Rachel agreed, Shannon helped her and the boys pack while Daniel and one of the Jennings carpenters she didn’t normally work with repaired the damage. She kept expecting another message from the kidnappers, some proof of life or a demand she could work with, but nothing came through.

She leaned against her car door, trying to smile as she waved to Rachel’s boys as the family left their house to visit her mother a few hours away in New Jersey. “At least they’re out of harm’s way. What now?” she murmured, at a complete loss.

“You need to call the cops,” Daniel said flatly.

“I can’t. You heard Rachel.”

“They took your son,” he said, incredulous.

“I know!” She bit her lip against another outburst.

“What aren’t you saying?”

“He called,” she said. “When I got here. When I walked into the backyard, he called and said...” She couldn’t get the words out. “He said he’d send Aiden back to me in pieces if I involved the police.”

“Oh, Shannon.” He rubbed her shoulder.

The immense sympathy in those two words overwhelmed her. She didn’t know if she should lean into him or run away. “Thank you for helping her and fixing everything.”

“I followed you to help you,” he said, a lick of impatience in his voice. “You need to report this.”

“If I do and they hurt my baby, it will be my fault. I can’t live with that.”

“What’s really going on?”

“I don’t know much more than you do.” She didn’t realize she was crying again, or that Daniel had her wrapped in his arms, until the fabric under her cheek was damp.

“Will you trust me?” he asked when she quieted.

It seems she already did. She eased back from his solid warmth and tried to regain some distance and some dignity, a lost cause at this point. “I won’t speak with the police. Not yet, not after those threats.”

“How do you feel about former police?”

She shook her head. “Daniel—”

“Your place is nearby, right?” He looked toward the corner, squinting at the street signs.

“Around the corner,” she answered, caught off guard by the shift in topic. She supposed he knew her address from her personnel file.

“We’ll drop off your car and then you’re coming with me.”

“You need to get back to the job site.” She should go back as well, there wasn’t anything she could do other than wait for the kidnappers to make a demand she could work with.

“Ed’s got it under control.”

She groaned, thinking of her immediate supervisor and the project manager on the house they were finishing up. A little older, Ed Scanlon was patient and easygoing most of the time. Over the past few years, she’d come to think of him as the older brother she’d never had. “I need to call him, let him know I won’t be back.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “What am I going to tell him?” He doted on Aiden. If she told him the truth, he’d be relentless about pressuring her to call the cops. Daniel posed plenty of opposition without Ed chiming in.

“I handled it,” Daniel said. “I outrank him, remember?”

Ed was a friend as well and she didn’t want to hurt him. “Handled it how?” She gaped at her boss. “You didn’t tell him the truth.”

“No, I didn’t. And the guy who helped me with the repairs got a story about an attempted home invasion. Come on now.”

“I’m not talking to the police.”

“Trust me, I got that part loud and clear.” He reached around her and opened her car door. “First, your place. Lead the way.”

She fought back tears as she drove, wishing the phone would ring. Threats or demands, she didn’t care, as long as whoever held Aiden gave her another glimpse of her son, alive.

“I’ll find you, baby,” she vowed to the empty booster seat in the back. “You’ll be home soon.” She put all her thoughts toward how they would celebrate his homecoming and almost succeeded in blotting out the worst-case scenarios.

* * *

Daniel followed her to a tidy little rental in a duplex on another quiet street in the established, family neighborhood. Either she or the landlord took good care of it from what he could see out here.

His money was on her. Shannon’s work ethic and positive attitude inspired and spurred on the others. No surprise. His father, as the head of Jennings Construction, made a habit of hiring quality people and doing everything possible to keep them happy on the job. Fewer employee turnovers meant better profits. Having seen her on various job sites, he knew how much the crews liked her and her son.

He’d known her address and phone number from the employment records, noticed she’d been in the area for almost five years and at this address for just about four. No mention of a spouse in her file, current or ex. He knew from the chatter around the job sites that she didn’t date a lot, either.

Jennings was her only employer after her son had been born and her two local references came from a little restaurant where she’d been a waitress and the owner of a tile store where she’d been a showroom assistant. Shannon had juggled the two jobs through most of her pregnancy.

Daniel felt like a stalker for being able to pull all of that right out of his head. He’d never reviewed employee records for personal reasons before Shannon Nolan. After today, he never would again. If he wanted a date, he was better off using one of the apps the guys at the firehouse talked about.

Except something about her and her son had appealed to him from the first time he’d spotted her painting the intricate spindles of a porch rail on an exterior remodel project.

Late spring, he recalled, a fresh and clear afternoon. Her painting hand, those long fingers tipped with short unpainted nails, had been steady as she rocked the baby seat gently with her toe in time to the music Ed had pumping from the radio around front. The sunshine had highlighted the many shades of her fair hair. She’d worn it long then, had cut it some time ago, leaving a fringe of bangs that framed her wide brown eyes in a fine-boned face.

That scene had stayed with him all this time, daring him to stop wishing about it and take action. For years, he’d fabricated excuses that centered around her being an employee and off-limits. Now, on the day he’d been ready to ask her out, disaster struck.

“Take the hint,” he muttered. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”

He could write off the idea of asking her out, probably for forever. Lousy timing didn’t get worse than this. She’d always associate him with her son’s disappearance, no matter how things turned out, and he hoped like hell they’d turn out right. Good people should have the happy endings in life.

Quickly veering away from that line of thought, he watched her leave her car, relieved when she walked down the drive toward his truck. At least he wouldn’t have to chase her down and haul her bodily into the vehicle. He couldn’t fault her reasoning behind cooperating with the kidnapper and yet he couldn’t step back and let her deal with it alone. Just wasn’t wired that way.

She didn’t say anything when she climbed into the truck, buckled up. He didn’t know what to say, so he let the silence fill the cab, the situation percolating in his head while they drove out to the Escape Club.

The club owner, Grant Sullivan, had created a hot spot for local bands and music lovers at the pier on the Delaware River. While business boomed, so did the side work. As a retired cop, Grant persistently and quietly built up a reputation for using the club to help people in the community.

It had started with giving short-term jobs at the club to cops and other first responders, and little by little, the concept had grown into something bigger and yet more flexible.

When a case slipped through the cracks of normal law enforcement, often Grant and his connections proved effective and helpful. Daniel knew of several instances of Escape Club staff helping locals out of tough spots, large and small. He’d been peripherally involved on recent cases involving two of his friends from the fire department, Mitch and Carson. With Mitch’s assistance, a murderous stalker had been stopped, and for Carson, a drug-dealing scam had been exposed and justice served.

He didn’t expect Shannon to believe him about Grant’s effectiveness, and he’d leave the sales pitch to Grant. At this point, he could only pray Shannon would listen and give Grant a chance to try.

Shannon leaned forward as he parked in the delivery lot near the kitchen. “Escape Club?”

“You’ve heard of it?”

“Rachel and her husband have had date nights out here.” She didn’t look at him, her face turned toward the river rolling by. “They say the music is always great.”

“They’d be right.” He released his seat belt and shifted to face her. “The owner, Grant Sullivan, is a former cop. Hang on.” He held up a hand to stop her protest when fear flooded her big brown eyes. “Former,” Daniel repeated. “He has connections and resources on and off the force. Believe me, I understand why you want to cooperate with the kidnapper.”

“You have children?”

“No.” He couldn’t quite laugh it off. He wanted kids, had always assumed he’d be a husband and father. At thirty-two, he’d expected to be on that path by now. He had a foggy picture in the back of his head of noisy family dinners with his parents doting on grandkids and a strong, caring wife to help him navigate life. He just hadn’t met her yet, the woman who could love him and stand by him despite his career as a firefighter. “That doesn’t mean I can’t see that this is hell for you.”

She swiped a tear from her cheek and rubbed her hands on her torn and paint-stained work jeans. “What can Grant do?”

“It’s always a surprise,” Daniel replied, hopeful. “Come on.” He eyed the traffic on the street, but didn’t see cars circling the block or people paying specific attention to them. The club, usually bustling by noon on a Saturday, wouldn’t open until four tonight in anticipation of a special concert. Daniel was on the schedule to arrive by seven to help at the bar through closing.

Opening the back door, the hard thump and kick of the drums poured out. More than likely, that was Grant enjoying a jam session before the band arrived for the final sound check. The man loved to sit in with the bands whenever possible.

Guiding Shannon down the hall and into the club, Daniel paused at the end of the bar. “That’s Grant up on stage,” he said to Shannon.

“All right.” Doubt clouded her features as she watched him work the drums.

Daniel tried to see the club owner through her eyes. With his dark hair going gray at the temples, his stocky build and perfect rhythm, Grant looked more like a rock star defying the years than a savvy club owner with a gift for private investigations.

“He knows how to be discreet.” Daniel forced himself to stop talking. She’d held up remarkably well considering strangers had snatched her son and threatened his life, but no one had adequate words to ease her distress.

Her lips pressed into a tight line, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and glanced around the space while they waited. Grant had transformed the rundown warehouse into a gleaming, popular night club. Daniel couldn’t help wishing he’d been on hand for some of the build.

Grant finished the song and pushed his headphones off his ears, waved when he spotted them. “Be right there.” He stepped away from the drums and tucked the sticks into his back pocket. He ducked out of sight for a moment, then reappeared from backstage, hurrying forward, his limp barely noticeable.

“Daniel.” Grant reached out and the men clasped hands with a comfortable familiarity. “You’re early.” His astute brown eyes swept over Shannon. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”

“No, it’s not,” Daniel said. “This is Shannon Nolan. She’s had some trouble today and we could use some advice.”

Grant’s thick salt-and-pepper eyebrows arched up and he reached out, shook her hand. “What kind of trouble?”

She started to answer and stopped herself with a quick shake of her head. “I should go.”

“Not alone,” Daniel said. He waited until she lifted her despondent brown eyes to his. “Not alone,” he repeated. She did too much on her own and this wasn’t a situation anyone could be expected to handle without help, regardless of the kidnapper’s demands.

“Come on back and fill me in,” Grant said in a friendly tone that softened what could easily have been an outright order.

He led the way down the hall, gesturing for Daniel and Shannon to enter the office first. “Have a seat,” he said, closing the door.

Daniel appreciated the consideration as they sat down in the mismatched guest chairs in front of Grant’s desk. Though the club was deserted right now, the prep crews would be coming in soon, along with the featured band and the warm-up acts. He didn’t want anyone overhearing what Shannon had to say.

Grant’s chair squeaked as he settled in, and he gave Shannon a cautious smile. “What happened?”

“My son was kidnapped from the sitter’s house this morning.” Tears welled in her eyes, but her voice was clear and steady as she relayed the story.

Daniel made mental notes, only chiming in when Grant asked a question about the damage, the timing. While she explained it all, Grant looked over the first text messages on Shannon’s phone, reviewed the less-than-helpful incoming call log.

“Nasty work using kids as pawns,” he grumbled. Grant’s famous scowl was edging toward the ferocious end of the spectrum as he handed Shannon’s phone back to her across the desk. “Who is the boy’s father?”

She fidgeted in her chair, shoulders hunched and her palms pressed between her knees. “I don’t have any influence over him. The only time he cooperated with me was when he granted me the divorce. I haven’t even been back to New York.”

“You never told him he had a son?” Grant asked.

“No.”

At Shannon’s whispered answer, Daniel felt his heart clench. Twice now, in text and by phone, the kidnapper had told her she’d only get Aiden back once the father cooperated. If she didn’t have any influence over the man, it was no wonder she didn’t show much hope.

“Could the boy’s father be the kidnapper?” Grant asked, echoing a theory Daniel shared. “Maybe he found out and decided he wanted to be a dad after all.”

“No.” Shannon sat up straight. “He would have been furious to learn I was pregnant. I left him—left town—before he found out.”

As she nibbled on her lower lip, Daniel sensed she left something dark and ugly unsaid.

“Why?” Grant pressed. “You were afraid of him?”

“Yes.” She closed her eyes, her hands fisted on her knees hard enough to turn her knuckles white under the spattering of gray paint. “He turned into a different man after the wedding.”

Daniel could see she wanted to leave it at that. Just as he could see Grant’s cop instincts were humming. He had his teeth into this now and wouldn’t let up until he had all the facts.

“Who is the boy’s father?”

“It’s irrelevant.” She sniffled and another tear rolled down her cheek.

Grant’s chair squeaked as he leaned back. “I don’t think so.”

“Can you help me find my son?”

Daniel wanted to give her another hug and let her cry it out, though it wouldn’t help anything. He recognized the defeated look in her eyes, the utter helplessness dragging at her, having seen it in the faces of people certain they were going to die even as first responders did everything possible to save them.

“If you give me the whole picture, we have a much better chance of success.” Grant drummed his fingers on the desktop, watching her. When she refused to volunteer any information, his penetrating gaze shifted to Daniel. “How did you meet Shannon?”

“She’s a Jennings employee,” he replied, taken aback.

“How’d you get yourself involved in this?”

Daniel didn’t care for his tone and his temper started to simmer. “This isn’t her fault.” Grant flicked his fingers, urging him to answer. “I was talking with her on the job this morning when the kidnapper first made contact.”

“So you trust her?”

“Yes.”

“I’m right here,” Shannon snapped.

“I know.” Grant gave her a cool stare. “Until you give me what I need, I’m forced to tackle this from a different angle. How can we help you if you don’t help us?”

“The kidnapper said no police,” she replied.

Grant pointed at himself. “I own a nightclub.” He aimed that same finger at Daniel. “Firefighter and contractor, right there. I don’t see any cops here.”

Again, her silence stretched, filling the room.

Grant opened his mouth and Daniel knew what was coming. “Not so fast,” he said to both of them. “She needs us,” he said to Grant, then shot a glare at Shannon. “No disrespect intended, Shannon. You’ve done a great job on your own from what I’ve seen, but this isn’t a matter of independence or providing. You’re up against hard men, criminals who’ve done this before, in my opinion.”

“I’d agree, based on the sitter’s account,” Grant added.

“Shannon, you need Grant’s connections to get your son back safely.”

“They will send Aiden back to me in pieces.” She curled into herself, rocking a little. “It doesn’t matter who has connections.” She hiccupped as tears slid down her face again. “I h-have no influence over Aiden’s father. When the kidnappers realize it, Aiden is no use to them.”

Grant pushed to his feet, sent the chair rolling back as he leaned over the desk. Daniel had never seen him take such an intimidating tack with a person asking for help. “Tell me who the father is.”

Shannon’s shoulders trembled and her eyes were locked on her work boots. “Bradley Stanwood.”

“I’ll be damned.” He yanked his chair back into place. “Stanwood of New York.” The chair protested with another loud creak as he dropped into it. “I knew you looked familiar.”

“Pardon?” Daniel looked from Grant to Shannon and back again. Had she been a celebrity or married to one? That wasn’t something he kept up with, though there were people on his crews that did. “You know her? How is that?”

“Her ex-husband has ties to organized crime up and down the East Coast.” Grant rubbed at the lines creasing his forehead. “When I was still a cop, Stanwood and his less-polished associates were connected to more than a few crimes here in Philly. My guess is one of his enemies grabbed their son for leverage.”

With better context, the name clicked into place for Daniel. He managed to smother an oath before it slipped out.

Shannon sniffled, rocking gently again. “You can’t help me at all, can you?”

“On the contrary,” Grant said, fingers drumming on the desktop again. “Now that I know what we’re dealing with, I’ve got a few ideas brewing already.”

Chapter 2

Shannon stared at Grant, wishing the floor would open up and swallow her whole. This was the first time since leaving New York that she’d faced someone who understood what a big mistake her marriage had been. Settling in Philly, she’d been able to start over with a new name and a clean slate, free of Bradley’s unpleasant baggage. From the sound of it, this former cop knew her husband better than she had before she’d said her vows.

Yes, she’d found her backbone and negotiated a divorce before their second wedding anniversary, but that victory felt small and empty now.

“What sort of ideas?” Hope warred with caution. Her ex had a long reach, obviously, and serious connections as well. What a fool she’d been to think Philly was far enough removed from his circle of power in New York.

Grant studied her, the anger and intimidation replaced by kindness and compassion. She felt small and petty for being irritated by it. Her wounded pride did Aiden no good. She needed Grant’s help, his plans, if they were to rescue her son quickly.

The former cop countered her question with another. “There hasn’t been a true ransom demand?”

She shook her head as Daniel said, “No.”

Sliding a look at her boss, she still couldn’t figure out why Daniel hadn’t bolted. “Shouldn’t you get back to the site?”

This time, the “no” came from Grant and Daniel simultaneously.

Grant leaned forward in his chair. The sympathy in his warm, brown eyes made her want to rage and scream. Yes, she’d been an idiot to marry a madman, but she was different now, older and wiser after the harrowing experience. She didn’t want anyone to see her as helpless, no matter that it was true. She checked the urge to pound on the nearest wall. Barely.

“I may run a nightclub now, but I still have connections within the police department.” He barreled on before she could launch a protest. “I’m going to make some discreet inquiries about your ex-husband. I’ll find out if he’s been seen in the area, catch up with any gossip on the latest investigations, that sort of thing. I can couch it within the context of the business. Not everyone doing business near the river is legit.”

She turned her phone over and over in her hands, willing it to leap to life with some news of Aiden. “And what do I do? Just sit at home and wait?”

“Actually, I’d rather you didn’t sit at home,” Grant said.

Shannon raised her head in time to catch the glance Grant exchanged with Daniel.

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“What’s fine?” She didn’t appreciate decisions being made on her behalf, without so much as a discussion. Although the two men in this room were honorable, nothing like her ex-husband, the lack of input or control only stressed her out more. “This is my son’s life we’re talking about.”

“Yours, too,” Grant said baldly. “I’d like you to stick close to Daniel for the next few days. I know it’s inconvenient, but I see it as a necessary precaution.”

“I need to be at my place or at work.” If she didn’t stay busy somehow, she’d lose her mind in the bleak pit of worry. “Shouldn’t I be where they know to find me? In case they bring Aiden back.” It sounded like a starry-eyed fantasy as the words tumbled from her lips. She couldn’t let her trouble disrupt Daniel’s life. He had enough to juggle managing the nearly finished project and the charity house.

“Alone, you’ll be a tempting target,” Grant explained. “They could pick you up on a whim and we risk losing you both.”

Daniel lurched up and out of the chair, pacing in front of the closed door, one hand shoving at his black hair.

“Better that than a burden,” she protested, avoiding Daniel’s restless gaze. “He has a life and two jobs already. He doesn’t have time to babysit me.”

“It’s fine.” Daniel leaned back against the closed door. “I’m using personal leave from the PFD so I can oversee the charity house. I was going to assign you to that next anyway. We’ll save time and gas and all that if we’re together.”

A few hours ago, working on the charity project had been her biggest hope. Now, it felt flat and insignificant. “You’ve insisted on only the best crew over there. I can’t imagine I qualify with my mind on Aiden.” Her heart was broken. “I know keeping busy would help, but my concentration is gone.”

“I can find something for you,” Daniel promised.

Nothing short of holding her baby again would restore her. She’d seen enough documentaries to know kidnapped children were rarely returned. Children stolen to manipulate crazy ex-husbands...well, she didn’t want to contemplate the long odds there.

Grant cleared his throat, gaining her attention. “It’s imperative you have someone with you at all times. I can assign someone else, but Daniel is here and available,” Grant said. “He’s familiar with you and your son. He has reason to come and go from here as well, without raising suspicion.”

“Won’t your inquiries at the police department raise more suspicion?” she asked. By accident, she’d overheard her ex bragging to a friend about having an entire narcotic squad in his pocket. It had been a transforming revelation, one that hadn’t gone well for her when he found out. “Couldn’t it get back to Bradley or whoever has Aiden?”

Grant tipped his head to the side, wrapping one hand with the other. “It is possible Stanwood or his connections in Philly have cops on the payroll,” he admitted. “That’s just the nature of the beast when it comes to criminal syndicates. More often, lately, they think they have more pull than they really do. I can promise you I’ll be careful. Your name won’t come up until I’m sure it’s necessary.”

Somehow his candor did more to soothe her than any overconfident assurances. It was nice that he understood that her ex and his enterprises could mean serious danger for any uninvited party poking around.

She turned her phone over and over in her hands, wishing it would ring with another picture or a demand she could fulfill. “I don’t have money,” she murmured. What she had were secrets—secrets she couldn’t share without putting the two men trying to help her on Bradley’s radar.

“Remember, your son is leverage,” Grant said. “The kidnappers know that and will treat him accordingly.”

She considered the safety seat they’d used and silently acknowledged Grant’s point. “Organized crime and reputable construction companies don’t go together. It might be best for you and the company if I use my saved vacation days.” She didn’t want to undermine all the good work he and his father did.

“You can’t be alone,” Daniel stated.

Hearing the tone he used when he ran up against a hard decision on a job site, she knew it would be useless to argue. Still, she tried. “Maybe Grant should assign someone else. It doesn’t have to be you hovering as my shadow.”

He glared down his nose at her, his arms crossed over his chest, his short sleeves struggling to hang on as his biceps flexed. “You have a problem with me now?”

Yes. She liked him, respected him, and she knew how important he was to his company as well as the PFD. Besides, he couldn’t possibly want the added responsibility Grant was giving him. Sure, anyone could be hit by a bus crossing a street on any given day of the week, but her past had caught up to her. Her odds of getting hurt—or worse—were much higher. Whoever stuck by her would also be in greater peril. “You have other things to do. If it gets out that I was once Mrs. Stanwood, it could become a serious problem.”

“If it does, we’ll deal with it,” he said with a shrug.

It wouldn’t be that easy, not with her ex in the picture. Grant had a good idea what Bradley was capable of, but very few others could comprehend the uncontrollable threat he posed.

“Satisfied?”

Not even close. She held up her hands in surrender. “Fine, I won’t be alone.” She swallowed another spate of tears. “My son is. Say what you will about leverage and safety, I want to hear every aspect of your plans to rescue him.”

Grant swiveled the chair back and forth. “It will take some time to ask around, get some answers. Once the kidnappers state specific demands, we’ll have a clearer path.”

She understood the logic. Too bad she had no idea how she was going to hold up if they didn’t find Aiden quickly. On his best days, Bradley had been arrogant and unsympathetic as he dealt with people who interfered with business. His enemies clearly held the same standards. She worried over what her son would see and hear and how he’d be treated.

“What do I say if they call?” she asked.

“Hit record if you can,” Grant answered. “We can listen for any clue in the background noise. Do your best to cooperate without promising anything. I’ll stay in touch through Daniel.”

He had to know he was asking the impossible. She’d willingly give up anything, promise anything, to have Aiden back home safe.

“Shannon.”

She met Grant’s gaze when he repeated her name, gently pulling her attention from the brittle edge of shock and misery. “I’ll try.”

“You’ll make it,” he said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “You were strong enough to leave Stanwood. That couldn’t have been easy.” His eyes flicked to Daniel and back to her. “You’re strong enough to handle this the right way. We’re here to help you.”

He meant it, she could see the concern in his serious brown eyes, and feel the determination emanating from Daniel as he helped her to her feet. “I appreciate it.” Her throat closed as more tears threatened.

They didn’t know her ex like she did. Bradley could elevate ruthless to unprecedented heights. Looking back, escaping him had been nothing short of miraculous. Without the careful sleight of hand and unexpected sympathy shown by Bradley’s personal friend and lawyer, she might not have made it to Philly. She should have thought of it sooner.

“There is someone I could call,” she said. “The phone number I have is old, but it could be a lead right? If he knows what my ex is working on or where he is.”

“That depends on who you’re talking about.”

“Gary Loffler,” she said.

Grant rolled his eyes. “Stanwood’s personal lawyer.”

“You know him, too?” Daniel asked.

“I’ve heard the name here and there,” Grant replied. “Why do you think he’d help?”

Shannon forced herself to say the words. “He was kind to me.” When her marriage had turned into a nightmare, Gary had been the only friendly person in Bradley’s household. “More than fair with me when he handled the divorce.”

“Give me his number.” He pushed a notepad across the desk for her. “I’ll add him to the to-do list.” Grant tapped the notepad. “Let’s think this through. You’ll stick together, but where? We need a safe place for Shannon to stay. I know you have a job to do and this situation complicates matters.”

“It’s fine,” Daniel replied. “I’m already on leave and have plenty to spare. There’s a house not quite done we could use for a day or two.”

Shannon listened to them plan her next forty-eight hours and prayed she wouldn’t be in this heart-wrenching agony for that long. Two days were unfathomable as each minute felt like an eternity all on its own. Daniel’s hand moved lightly across her shoulder, soothing her as the conversation moved on around her. She wanted to spout apologies, though none of this was her fault.

“Should I come in tonight as planned?” Daniel asked.

“No.” Grant reached into his desk drawer and handed over two tickets for the concert. “I’ll find someone to cover the bar. You and Shannon can squeeze into that table of friends you had coming in.”

Weary, Shannon scraped the tiny specks of pewter trim paint from a fingernail. “I couldn’t possibly go out tonight.”

“You don’t have to stay long. With a little luck, I’ll have an update by this evening.” Grant pursed his lips, staring hard at the two of them. “Either way—” he caught Shannon’s gaze “—I’m sure I’ll have more questions. With the tech resources available, I’d rather do more face-to-face than over the phone. The concert is a better reason to come by.”

Once more outvoted by sound logic. Frustrated, her emotions swirling, she agreed. What else could she do? She wanted her phone to ring, to hear her son’s voice. She wanted to know what the kidnappers expected. Only then would they have a solid lead.

As Daniel stepped out into the hallway to make a few phone calls, Grant asked her questions about Bradley and New York, about what she knew of her ex-husband’s habits.

She answered as best she could, considering she’d closed that chapter of her life so many years ago. All the while, questions more essential to her heart, her future, pounded inside her in a vicious cycle.

Where was Aiden? Was he frightened or hungry? At four years old, he probably couldn’t reason out that she’d be searching for him. The despairing thought had her heart withering in her chest.

“Come on, Shannon.”

She followed the sound of the deep voice to Daniel’s face. She’d zoned out again and missed his return to the office. He held out a hand, strong and calloused from hard, honest work. Bradley’s hands had always been soft and well-manicured.

“Come on, now,” he said gently.

What else could she do except go with him? Sobbing and wringing her hands wouldn’t save her son. She thought back to her pregnancy and the days and nights coping with alternating waves of emotion. There had been soaring highs of hope and anticipation of seeing her baby followed by bouts of anxiety over motherhood and wondering how she’d provide. To fill the time, she’d researched, taken classes and socked away every spare penny. She’d prepared and planned to the best of her ability.

She would do the same for Aiden now. Waiting didn’t have to be stagnant. She could shift her focus to anticipating his safe homecoming. In the meantime, she would research her ex and prepare for a rocky road ahead.

Resigned, she put her hand in Daniel’s and followed him out of the club.

* * *

Daniel kept half an eye on Shannon as he drove back to her place. She hadn’t said a word since they’d left the club. Although the silence unnerved him, he didn’t have good cause to break it. She had every right to curl up in a corner until they found a helpful lead on Aiden. He doubted that would happen, but she had every right. Single parenting was tough for anyone. Single parenting the son of Bradley Stanwood? Well, that took more courage.

He’d walked into the club hopeful and walked out more unsettled. He recalled a few national headlines about Stanwood’s less-than-legit business practices. The guy slipped through the system every time. Although Daniel didn’t have all the facts—didn’t feel he had a right to them—she’d been married to a nasty criminal. That kind of mistake just didn’t fit with the sensible, smart and lighthearted woman he knew as an employee.

No, he suspected she didn’t have any influence at all over her ex-husband. Unless the kidnappers asked her for something else, this would not end well.

He shoved aside his doubts and reminded himself he’d seen more than one miracle in his life. As a firefighter, he’d watched people survive who shouldn’t have made it. Faith and belief were core components in survival, as effective as ladders and hoses and medical treatment. His purpose here was to keep Shannon safe while Grant worked on finding her son.

He parked in the alleyway behind her car. Still keeping an eye out for anyone too interested in them, he followed her inside. Her design choices set a clear mood, homey, tidy and comfortable. The furniture was secondhand, in good repair and clean. She’d probably refinished and reupholstered everything herself. Gleaming hardwood floors anchored the modest living room, ran back through the dining space to the kitchen and into an alcove with a stacking washer and dryer.

Without a word, she went up the stairs that bisected the first floor.

Looking closer, he got the sense there were clear rules here about cleaning up, making beds and eating whatever veggies were on the plate. None of that surprised him. Shannon had a reputation among the crew for being prompt, clean and friendly. She pulled her weight—more than—with the crew and she held firm about how much teasing she’d tolerate.

The evidence of a young boy in residence showed up in the booster seat at the table, the basket of children’s books under the stained glass floor lamp by the couch and a pint-size table in the corner of the living room bathed in light from the front window. Daniel smiled at the line of trucks—dump, cement, freight—waiting for their boy to come home and put them to work. He couldn’t help wondering if the kid had a fire truck somewhere in his fleet.

“Should I take some of Aiden’s things, too?” she asked.

He smothered his surprise, pleased her voice sounded stronger. Turning toward the stairway, he gave her a smile. “Only if it helps you. When the kidnappers release him, I’m sure you’ll both be able to come home.”

“Right.”

The single word, loaded with doubt, tore him up. As he debated the wisdom of giving her more reassurances when he didn’t have any guarantees, she headed back upstairs. He gave her a few minutes, checking the windows and door locks, wondering how to be respectful and polite in an untenable situation. Ten minutes later, concerned at her absence and more silence, he went up after her.

The bedrooms were on either side of the stairs, with a good-sized bathroom wedged in between. “Shannon?”

He found her in the smaller bedroom at the back of the house. Sitting in a rocking chair, she had her hands wrapped around a floppy blue rabbit and her gaze locked on her son’s small bed. “Shannon, honey, we need to go.”

“Why?” The strength she’d displayed minutes ago was gone. “We should stay, be here so they can bring him home.”

He recognized the shock and denial that often set in amid crisis and dire circumstance. Kneeling in front of her, he covered her hands with his. “Is this his favorite?”

“From day one,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “He doesn’t sleep—can’t sleep—without it.” She held it to her face, breathed deep, lowered it to her lap. When her weepy eyes met his, his heart clenched. “He gets so grumpy when he doesn’t sleep.”

“He’ll be all right.” Daniel didn’t want to give her false hope, and yet there was nothing else to offer. “Take it with you. It will make you both feel better when you’re reunited.”

“You sound so confident.” She tried to smile, but her lips wobbled. “I appreciate it.”

It took some prompting to get her moving and keep her on task as she gathered clothes and toiletries to spend a few days away from home. She would pause, her hands full and her expression empty. The stark terror in her brown eyes made him wish for the power to restore everything with a snap of his fingers.

Regardless of Grant’s trust in Daniel to stick with her and keep her safe, he wasn’t a bodyguard or an investigator. Hell, at this point he wasn’t sure he could even keep Shannon in line with the plan or explain her presence on the job site tomorrow. She was devastated, unfit for work, and he didn’t have a clue how to pull her out of the worry that kept dragging her down.

Going on instinct, he decided to start by making sure she wasn’t alone and building on that foundation. He kept up a monologue of nonsense, sharing his ideas for the charity house while he packed her suitcase and stowed the things she handed him from the bathroom into a smaller tote.

“What about tonight?” he asked, noticing she hadn’t selected anything special for their next visit to the club. “The concert,” he reminded her. “Grant could have news,” he added when he thought she might launch another protest.

With a heavy sigh, she returned to the closet, shoved hangers back and forth until she eventually pulled out a black dress. She repeated the mute search for heels and dropped them on the bed. Sitting on the velvet-covered stool in front of an antique vanity table, she gathered makeup and dropped it into the tote.

At last they were done and he carried her things downstairs.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, trailing him to his truck.

He tucked her suitcase and tote in the cab behind the seats. “There’s a flip I haven’t quite finished over in Francisville. We’ll stay there tonight. Once we get you settled, we’ll swing by my place before the concert.”

Her lips thinned, confirmed she wasn’t happy with him shadowing her.

“Are you going back to the site today?” she asked as he backed out of the alleyway.

“No. Ed’s got it under control.” He weaved his way through the neighborhood streets crowded with parked cars on both sides.

She groaned. “What did you tell him about me running off?”

“I only said there was a mix-up at the sitter about which kid got hurt on the swings and things are under control. He has kids, he gets it.”

“I hate lying to him,” she said.

“On the upside, the place is done.” The news seemed to deflate her more. “It gives me a solid reason to take them out and celebrate at the concert.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.” She tugged at the seat belt, as if she felt choked. “I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing at all, going to Grant, putting you in this awkward position.”

“I’m fine.” How many more times would she need him to say it? “It was my idea to go to Grant, remember?”

“When he starts asking questions...” Her voice trailed off.

“You didn’t disobey. Kidnappers say no cops all the time,” he pointed out. “I think it’s a standard step one.”

“Maybe in the movies,” she said. Her cell phone on her denim-clad thigh, she tapped her fingertips across the black screen as if she could summon contact from the kidnappers at will.

“Grant would support you if you wanted to file a report and get a formal search going.”

“I want that very much. A formal search, I mean.” She swiped away the errant tear rolling down her cheek. “If the kidnappers are like my ex, I doubt it would get us anywhere.” She cursed under her breath. “I want my son home safe, sleeping in his own bed. I want to go back to yesterday and stay there, freeze time. Or fast forward to tomorrow or the day after, when he’s home.”

“Just keep believing you’ll see him again.”

She sniffled. “I want to. I want that so much, I’ll cooperate with the first demand not to formally involve police.”

“All right.” Although he couldn’t advise her one way or another, he could be grateful she was talking again and he’d be her sounding board.

“You can’t think cooperating is a mistake after encouraging me to pack up and leave my home?”

“Didn’t say that,” he replied.

“Didn’t you?”

Daniel glanced over, caught the flash of a fight coming into her brown eyes. “No.” He wouldn’t let her goad him into a futile argument. “You’re hurting, confused and worried for your son. It’s natural to second-guess every choice while waiting for a response or reaction from the people holding him.”

“You’re not second-guessing anything.”

He shot her another look. She had no idea what was going on in his head and he intended to make sure that didn’t change. He couldn’t imagine her having a positive reaction if he told her he’d been trying to ask her out. “Taking orders is part of my job.”

“In my experience, you give the orders,” she said.

“Huh?” He scowled. “Oh, sure. I hand out task lists at the construction sites.”

“More than that,” she said. “You manage timelines, supply and personnel, too.”

“Are you calling me bossy?”

Her lips twitched into something less sorrowful. “If the boot fits.”

He cleared his throat. “About orders. I meant I’m the one taking orders at the firehouse.”

“You’re a lieutenant.”

She must have heard that through chatter on the job. “Yes.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “A lieutenant is one link in a long chain of command.” Thankfully, they’d reached the house and he could change the subject gracefully. “The house is right here.”

He parked in the spot reserved for the house he intended to turn into a big profit once they were done using it as a hideout.

One of the calls he’d made from the Escape Club was to the staging service they used for open houses. He didn’t ask for the full treatment with all the mood and style bonus points, but he didn’t want them sleeping on the floor. Meals would still be a string of takeout menus and prepackaged options. That couldn’t be helped unless he stocked the kitchen with food and utensils. That kind of action felt too permanent. In his opinion, right now Shannon needed to believe this would all be over within a day or two.

“We can’t stay here.” Her gaze roved up and down the street as they walked to the door. “We just finished this house last week.”

It wasn’t as if he could take her to his place. He’d just moved into another renovation site and the place was a dusty construction zone. “The stagers will be here any minute so we’ll have furniture,” he said.

“That’s not the point. You need to get it on the market.”

He opened the door, nudged her inside. “It will go on the market soon enough.” A few days, or even a week, wouldn’t make a real dent in his bottom line. This was one property where the investment risk was all on his shoulders, though she didn’t need to know that. He didn’t mind putting off the listing for her sake. Her safety was more important to him than the profit.

He told himself he’d do the same for any employee and nearly laughed out loud. He considered the core of his crew friends, though Shannon was different. He wanted something more from her, and had for a long time.

Smothering his attraction for her was going to be tough enough in a neutral environment.

* * *

Shannon turned a slow circle, taking in the details. Ed had moved her to another job and she hadn’t seen this house completely finished until today. It was sleek and modern and some happy buyer would snap it up in a hurry.

“This is a bad idea.” Her voice bounced around the empty space. Real estate agents often claimed the hollow effect put off potential buyers, but to her ear it signaled a wealth of potential.

“How so?”

She shrugged, searching for the words to explain. Being in her house without Aiden, wondering if she’d ever see him playing with his trucks again had been miserable. Being away from the home she’d made didn’t bring her any relief. “What if he gets away and tried to come home?”

Daniel opened his mouth and snapped it shut, his vivid blue gaze sliding away from her.

She knew what he was trying not to say. “That’s a mother’s fantasy talking, I know it. He’s only four and they had hours to get him out of the city before we knew he’d been taken. We have no leads.” She shoved at her hair. “I know.”

“No leads yet,” Daniel said. “You have to believe you’ll see him again. That’s your primary task right now.”

She did believe. She did, but doubt was a dark, persistent undercurrent dogging her every thought. Doubt and dread. “I believe.” She curled and flexed her fingers, made herself say the words again. “It’s this helpless feeling I don’t know how to cope with.”

“Kidnappers prey on that, use it against loved ones to get their way. Your son is still in the city and you’ll get him back.”

“You don’t know that,” she said.

“You don’t know I’m wrong.”

“Fair enough.” She wandered through the kitchen, ran her fingers across the smooth quartz countertops. “We can’t stay here. If you’re paying to stage it, you need to list it.”

His dark eyebrows dipped low as he scowled at her. “Have you been talking to my father?”

“Not since last month,” she replied, moving around the island and down the hallway. “I didn’t agree when Ed installed the bead board. It works.”

“That was my call,” Daniel said. “No one liked it on paper. Now back up a second. Exactly when and why were you talking with my dad?”

She faced him. His bewilderment gave her a moment’s distraction from the pain squeezing her heart like a vise. “You do remember I work for him?”

Only for a bit longer, though. If Bradley was behind the kidnapping, she’d have to move on as soon as she got Aiden back. “He signs my paycheck,” she reminded him. “He comes around and checks in with each of us at least once during a project.”

“No, he leaves that to his managers,” Daniel insisted. “Especially on jobs like this one, jobs I choose.”

She tilted her head, startled by his outburst. “I really thought you two got along.”

“We do,” he said through clenched teeth. “We didn’t see eye to eye on the timing of the charity house, that’s all.”

He was genuinely upset. It seemed she was wrecking his day right and left. “I got the impression he wasn’t happy you fronted so much of the financial responsibility there. I’m sure he’ll be pleased with the positive publicity for Jennings.”

“Yeah, he will.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “And I didn’t realize he was snooping around the projects on my slate.”

“Not snooping, taking an interest.”

Daniel snorted in obvious disagreement.

She let the tender subject go. Walking through the rest of the house, envisioning how she and Aiden might fit in. The mental exercise always kept her in the right frame of mind, happy and eager to do her best for the eventual homeowner.

“Getting hired full time with Jennings was the best thing that happened to me after Aiden was born,” she said.

“Did Dad hire you?”

“Not directly.”

Her mind drifted back to those first months in Philly, juggling the hours at the tile supply store with her waitressing job. Banking her tips, her back and feet aching more each week as her pregnancy progressed, she’d lost more than one night’s sleep wondering what she’d do after she delivered.

“Ed would come by the diner where I worked with the lunch order at least once a week and we’d talk while he waited. I had some ideas for updating my place, and he gave me some advice as I cleared each project with the landlord. About a week before I delivered, he asked if I was interested in picking up some extra cash doing touch-up work after the baby came. One thing led to another.”

She rolled her shoulders. As soon as she had Aiden back again, her past would shove them into another new start. Would she be as lucky to find good work when she found her next place? She had her emergency fund and a decent savings built up. She supposed how long the money lasted would depend on where she ended up. She made a mental note to start researching the most affordable cities nearby.

“That was a Victorian remodel,” he said. “You had the patience of a saint, painting that detail work.”

She smiled. “Aiden was about a month old. I was going a little stir crazy alone in the house. Ed saved my sanity. Aiden napped in his car seat through most of that job.” It was bittersweet, thinking of those days, full of such pure relief and endless joy that she was a mother, raising her son her way. “The fresh air put him to sleep every time.”

“Ed was smart to bring you on. You did great work on that job. And every job since.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about him taking such notice of her particular efforts. She’d noticed him, of course, and for several reasons that were far less professional. “I’d ask for a reference for when I leave, but I couldn’t use it.”

“Leave? What are you talking about?” His gaze went razor-sharp as he stared her down. “You’ve made a good life for yourself here.”

“It’s common sense. Once I have Aiden back, I’ll have to relocate. I can’t count on my ex or his enemies leaving me alone after this. I won’t let him have anything to do with Aiden.”

“You’re planning to run away?”

“Relocate,” she repeated stubbornly. She refused to call it running, wouldn’t give Bradley that much control, even in her mind. “Isn’t today proof that it’s not safe for people to know who I married, who fathered my son?”

“Running.” He scowled again. “That’s no life for you or Aiden.”

She didn’t care for the judgment in his tone or the subtle disapproval in those deep blue eyes. In self-defense, she ignored him and moved on down the hallway and peeked into each of the three bedrooms, two baths.

As if she wanted to leave Philly. She’d done well here, rebuilding herself from the inside out and providing for her son. There was no reason for her to pop up on the radar of someone looking for her ex, yet somehow his enemies had stolen her son simply for the sake of leverage.

“Shannon, I’m sorry,” he said, blocking the doorway of the hall bathroom. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just wrong for this to drive you away from a good, stable situation.”

“I agree.”

“Then stop planning to leave. Focus on how you’ll stay.”

His intensity had her leaning back, looking for a way around him. Although he didn’t understand what he was suggesting, she was too weary, too grief-stricken to try and explain further. Her plans to leave Philly weren’t a result of defeat or self-pity, it was simply her reality. Only someone who’d been close to Bradley could comprehend the fear he invoked in those who disappointed him or went against his wishes.

“It was a miracle he granted me a divorce in the first place,” she said. “If he decides he wants to know Aiden, everything I’ve worked for falls apart.”

Daniel started to say something and stopped when they heard voices in the front room. “That would be the stagers. I’ll get them started. You keep thinking positively.”

Shannon was positive she would have to make a move, have to take some action or she’d never take another easy breath. She couldn’t raise her son while looking over her shoulder, waiting for his father to strike.

With her phone set to full volume, she tucked it in her back pocket and said a prayer the kidnappers would call. It had been almost six hours without any contact. No amount of spinning could turn that into a positive.

Unable to stand around idle, she made herself useful hauling in counter stools, chairs and abstract art for the mantel. Dreamer that she was, she and Aiden had occasionally been through the houses Daniel flipped, so she had a feel for the easy, transitional style he preferred.

She stepped back, eyed the mantel and then stepped forward to make another minor adjustment.

“Can’t sit still, can you?”

“Could you, in my shoes?”

“Absolutely not,” he admitted. “You have a good eye.”

“Hmm. It’s not a stretch to know what you’re after,” she said without thinking.

“It’s not?”

He didn’t miss a detail, something that surely worked for him in both his careers.

“After a few years with Jennings, I’ve picked up a thing or two.” At his cocked eyebrow, she gave him the fastest reason she could come up with. “Come on. Staging a house is basic logic. The goal is to make it feel like a home and present the space as stylish and roomy without driving away potential buyers.”

“Let me guess, you worked in staging somewhere along the line.”

His tone, light and friendly, made her smile. “No, but I’ve seen several examples. On television,” she added before he pegged her as a real estate stalker. To get out of the way while the stagers tweaked the furniture placement in the front room, she retreated to the kitchen and he followed.

She didn’t feel comfortable admitting how she appreciated his understated style. He went beyond the boring beige palette when he flipped houses and he delivered quality on his remodeling projects. She admired the dedication and organization he and his father used that kept Jennings crews hopping and sites well managed. Daniel in particular had cultivated a winning manager in Ed, who kept things moving while Daniel was on shift at the firehouse.

Maybe she should follow his example and be bolder when she relocated. With four years of experience, she could accelerate the timeline of owning a home and a business. “How long did it take to get your general contractor’s license?”

His gaze narrowed. “You don’t need a contractor’s license to flip houses if you partner with someone reasonable and reliable. Better not to shell out all the capital anyway, especially if you’re new to the business or the area.”

No, he didn’t miss a detail. She bit her lip, keeping more questions to herself for the moment.

“We’re nearly done here,” Daniel said. “Then you can unpack. Take the master.”

The shrill ringtone from her cell phone prevented a reply. She pulled it from her pocket, showed Daniel the Blocked message on the caller ID. He urged her to pick up, to use the app that would record the call.

“Hello?”

“Your son is safe.” It was the same mean man who’d contacted her earlier.

“I want to see him,” she said. “Another video.”

“Not yet.”

Daniel moved to usher out the stagers and closed the front door behind them. When he walked back into the kitchen, she put the phone on speaker.

“What do you want?”

“Everything,” the caller said. “All you have, in fact.”

Terror turned her knees to jelly. Bradley had given her those very words on their third date. At the time she’d found it romantic, since he’d promised her she’d have all of him. Why hadn’t she seen through him? How could she have ever mistaken his greedy and possessive nature as love? “My son is my everything,” she said, her throat dry and tight. “And you have him.”

“Good.”

She stifled a whimper at the cruel sound in that single syllable. Demands backed up in her throat, along with useless threats and promises, but she held her tongue, waiting for the caller to say something. “Can I talk to him?” Maternal worry eroded her patience.

“No. What you will do is follow my instructions to the letter.”

“Yes.” She rifled through her purse for pen and paper.

“First, you will maintain your routine as if nothing is wrong.” Each word was spoken carefully, as if he was reading from a script.

She’d put a numeral one on the page, now her pen stilled. “What?”

“You heard me,” he snarled. “Maintain your routine to the letter. Make any deviation, make any report and your son will come back to you one piece at a time.”

She couldn’t smother the primal cry of despair.

“Shut up!” he shouted.

She jumped, the outburst reminding her of the sting of Bradley’s palm on her cheek the first time he’d slapped her. This wasn’t Bradley’s voice but it was definitely his vocabulary. She clapped a hand over her mouth, praying for courage.

“I’ll do anything for you,” she said, pleading as she’d done in her marriage. “Just let my son go.”

Daniel waved a hand in front of his throat, signaling her to end those offers.

“Maintain your routine and I will call back with further instructions.” The caller sounded more natural now, with less stiffness and space surrounding each word. “Do you understand me? Yes or no?”

“Yes.” She wanted to ask for proof of life, knew she wouldn’t get it.

The call ended and she clutched the phone, giving in to the fresh wave of tears as she folded in on herself.

Daniel gathered her into his arms, his heart beating steady under her ear. He spoke to her, but lost in her grief, swamped by fear, she couldn’t make out the words.

Her phone chimed with an incoming text with one word: routine. A second message arrived with a link to a website. She clicked on it immediately. It was a video of Aiden sitting on a twin bed in a small room. Only fifteen seconds long, she watched her son wave at the camera and say, “Hi, Mommy,” when prompted by someone off screen.

Shannon blinked away the tears so she could see clearly. She saved the video to her phone, just in case the sender removed it from the site. Then she replayed the video over and over, soaking in every nuance on her son’s sweet face.

“He’s confused. His eyebrows furrow right there when he’s confused.” She tapped the screen and paused the video. “Does he look scared to you?” She angled the phone for Daniel. “What do you think they told him?”

“No idea,” he said. “You can ask him once he’s back home. Give me a minute to update Grant.”

“No,” she protested. “They said normal routine.” Panic sank deep in her belly, clawed at her. “I’ve never been to the Escape Club. I never helped you stage a house.” She leaped to her feet, grabbed her purse. “I have to go.”

“Slow down.” He nudged her back to her seat, held her there with the lightest touch of his hands on her shoulders. “I heard the order. We’ll get back to the routine. Grant needs this so he can have someone with the right skills analyze the link and the video.”

He was right. “Okay.” She forwarded the video to the email address he gave her.

“Bradley’s behind this,” she murmured as he exchanged messages with Grant. “The demand to make him cooperate with himself doesn’t make sense, I know that. But he’s behind it. The caller was using his words.”

“A script? It sounded stiff, I’ll give you that,” Daniel agreed. “If he wants his kid, wouldn’t he—”

“Don’t say that. He can’t want Aiden.” She didn’t have the resources to fight that kind of custody battle. “He can’t have my son.” Her breath came fast and she couldn’t slow it down. Her arms tingled. She was too young for a heart attack, she thought as the room started to spin.

“Whoa, slow down. You’re hyperventilating.”

She reached for him, clinging and desperate. “Help,” she wheezed.

“It happens,” he crooned. “Breathe like this.” He pursed his lips and she did the same. “There you go, just take it easy. You’ll be all right. Easy, easy now. Slow it down. You’re doing great.”

His solid, gentle voice was wonderful, but she still felt horrible. Closing her eyes made the dizziness worse.

Daniel shifted his stance. “Let me help?”

She bobbed her chin, locked her eyes with his. He had the most amazing eyes. She focused on that deep, deep blue as he moved her hand over her mouth, held it there. He pressed a finger to one nostril.

“Keep breathing. You’re doing great.”

Slowly, her lungs recovered and she felt better as the strange method brought her breath under control. He carefully released the pressure on her nose while keeping her hand over her mouth.

“Better?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she managed around their layered hands. The dizziness passed and her arms were back to normal.

“You’re sure?”

She eased back, more than a little embarrassed that she’d lost it. Again. “How many times do you think you’ll have to rescue me from myself today?” His smile, so open and easy, soothed her immeasurably. “Thank you.”

Daniel gave her shoulders a squeeze. “It will be okay.”

“I don’t want to stay here. Not after that call.”

“We’re going. Back to your place,” he added, preempting her next question. His phone sounded off and he showed her the reply from Grant. “See? He already has someone tearing into the video.”

“All right. Thanks.” She stood up, needing his assistance for only a moment before she felt steady. She checked the time. “This is about the time I’d be home with Aiden on a Saturday afternoon.”

He pulled out his keys. “Then that’s where we’ll be.” His phone rang with an incoming call this time. “Grant,” he said, picking up.

“I’ll turn out the lights.” Shannon worked her way from the master suite, through the bedrooms and back to the hall bathroom where she stopped to splash cool water on her face.

Her routine and normal behavior didn’t include crying jags or hyperventilating. She had to get herself together or she wouldn’t stand a chance against whatever Bradley had planned. She didn’t have any idea how she’d manage to pretend everything was fine while her son was being held hostage who-knew-where. She only knew she had to be convincing. She had no doubt Aiden’s life depended on her performance in the hours—probably days—ahead.

Nothing was off-limits and no one was safe when Bradley set his mind on owning or controlling something. Seven years ago, when he’d spotted her in the bar during a conference in Miami, that something had been her. She’d been swept off her feet, falling for the charming façade.

“You were naive,” she told her puffy-faced reflection. “Not anymore.” She raised her shirt to dry her face and gave herself another long look. “He fooled you, held all the cards.” And she’d escaped. “Not anymore. You’re stronger than he knows.”

She ran her hands over her hair, tugging the wispy bangs into place over her forehead. The only hope for her eyes was dark sunglasses. All traces of the mascara she’d swept on this morning were long gone. Didn’t matter.

“Believe.” Daniel said that was her primary task right now. “Aiden is coming home. Believe it.”

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