Five years ago, Mila Carmody disappeared from her bed, and that was only the beginning. Now eight-year-old Vonnie Feinstein is missing as well. Two little girls, swallowed by darkness, never to be seen again.
For Micah Ganaway, it might be the end. Arrested for child abduction, he’s already been tried in the court of public opinion and found guilty. The lead detective assures him the trial is just a formality. But private investigator Hallie Chastain isn’t so certain. On paper, Ganaway makes a reasonable suspect, but in person, things don’t quite add up.
Detective Ford Prestia doesn’t share his partner’s convictions either, but he’s the new cop in town. Can’t afford to rock the boat. Then he meets Hallie, and when she rocks not only the boat but his whole world, he finds his career isn’t the only thing in jeopardy…
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Excerpt: Hallie
I so, so nearly made it out of the office.
Eight o’clock in the evening, the report was finished, my laptop was packed into my oversized purse, my car keys were in my hand, and… Knox was standing in the doorway.
His expression said that I wouldn’t be going home any time soon. He looked…spooked. And Knox was a former Navy SEAL, so he didn’t spook easy.
“Dan said you might still be here.”
Daniella di Grassi was my boss and mentor at Blackwood Security. Through several strokes of luck, both bad and good, I’d ended up working in the investigations division, and she’d taken me under her wing. As a girl who’d lived on a diet of true-crime podcasts and coffee for years, it was my dream job.
“What’s up?” I asked Knox, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. After twelve hours in the office spent wrapping up a corporate fraud case that had involved not only investigations but our forensic accounting and cyber teams as well, I needed dinner and then bed. But we’d located three million bucks worth of stolen assets—more than the client had been hoping for—so I was looking forward to the meeting with him tomorrow.
As long as I could get some sleep, that was.
Knox dropped into the empty chair at the next desk. Not a good sign. “Just got a call from one of my buddies in the teams. He’s overseas right now, but he’s got a family situation here in Virginia. Asked for my help.”
What did that have to do with me? “Go on.”
“His little brother got arrested.” Knox paused for a second. “Actually, Micah’s not so little anymore. He’s also their younger sister’s legal guardian, and the Department of Social Services got involved. They’ve put Fenika into a residential home while they search for a temporary guardian, and she’s freaking out.”
“And you need me to help you find her?”
“Nah, I know where she is. I was hoping you’d come with me to visit her.”
“But I’ve never met her.”
“I’ve never met her either—that’s the problem. Figured maybe she’d feel more comfortable with a woman around.” Knox offered a winning smile, and it was gold-medal-worthy. “Buy you dinner on the way back? Cal just wants to know she’s okay.”
How long would it take? An hour? Two? I knew how it felt to be alone and in trouble.
“It’ll cost you a pizza from Il Tramonto.”
Oh, that smile only got wider. “Appreciate it.”
“Are we taking your car or mine?”
“I rode in on the bike today, but if you want to wrap your thighs around me, I have no objections.”
When I first arrived at Blackwood, the office banter had freaked me out a bit. Hell, the sheer number of men had left me twitchy. But as I’d settled in, I’d grown to understand the place. Visit the finance department, and the quiet, industrious atmosphere made you want to whisper every word. The security and monitoring division, who provided everything from mall cops to event staff to home alarm systems—the bread-and-butter team, Dan called them—were always serious and professional. But climb up the ladder to investigations or cyber or executive protection, and the atmosphere grew more casual. For the people on the top rung—Emmy Black’s Special Projects division—Blackwood wasn’t just a job, it was a way of life. Lines between work and friendship got blurred. Those folks were a team in every sense of the word.
And by virtue of my unconventional route into Blackwood—I’d skipped the interview process and gotten rescued from a sex trafficking ring by the company’s directors—I’d found myself a member of that exclusive club. Still very much the newbie, but…accepted. Until I came to Blackwood, I’d felt as if it was me against the world. Now? Now it was us against the world.
Knox, he was an incorrigible flirt, sometimes filthy with it, but also a gentleman. He’d never act on any of his innuendos. Well, I guess he might if I invited him to? But I never had and I never would. I didn’t date, or hook up, or anything in between. The mere thought of being naked with a man again left me nauseated.
But the flirting? It was safe. Even fun.
“Aw, honey, you don’t have enough to hold on to.”
Excerpt: Ford
Ford Prestia shouldn’t have been taking a break from the Feinstein case to eat a mid-morning snack, and he definitely shouldn’t have been taking a break from the Feinstein case to eat that snack with a pretty woman. But fuck it. Duncan was an asshole who’d been marking time while he waited to collect Social Security until he saw one last shot at glory, and the fewer hours Ford had to spend with him, the better. Back in New Orleans, he’d have picked up a drink for his partner too, but Duncan could buy his own damn coffee.
The object of Ford’s fascination sashayed to the table in the corner where she had a laptop set up. On the previous two occasions he’d seen her—this past Tuesday and early last week—she’d ordered to go. Why was she working in the café today? Didn’t she have an office? Perhaps she wasn’t from around here, which might explain the accent. She had a twang you didn’t hear much in these parts, and it only became more pronounced when she was angry. Angry. The sight of the willowy blonde laying into that stuck-up bitch shouldn’t have been a turn-on, but Ford couldn’t deny how it had affected him. At least he hadn’t been the target of her tongue today, although maybe in the future, he wouldn’t mind becoming better acquainted.
For fuck’s sake, Prestia.
Picking up women on duty was a no-no, and hadn’t he decided to focus on his job for now? He’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship—much to his sister’s relief because Sylvie had never gotten along with Eliette—and he was in no hurry to get tangled up again. But something casual…
“Do you come here often?” the blonde asked, sitting down and closing her laptop in one smooth motion. “Sorry, that sounded like a pickup line, and it definitely wasn’t.” Well, at least she’d cleared that up. “Thanks for your help back there.”
“Just doing my civic duty.” Ford took a seat opposite. “Cops don’t appreciate having their time wasted. And in answer to your question, I come here most days. They seem to serve the best coffee in this part of town.”
“They do. My boss’s boss is a real coffee snob, and this is her favourite place.”
“A coffee snob? Maybe you should introduce us.”
“Uh…”
Why did she look so horrified?
“Relax, I’m kidding. I just like good coffee, that’s all. Took about two weeks after I moved here for the assholes in the department to start calling me Esprestia.”
Now she seemed puzzled. “Esprestia?”
“Shit, sorry, I should have introduced myself.” Ford held out a hand. Usually he was smoother than this, but when she put her hand into his, he jolted as something passed between them. A connection. “Ford Prestia.”
She had the most beautifully expressive face, but instead of the smile he’d hoped to see, there was a moment’s pause, and then he got shock. Shock and—if he wasn’t mistaken—a hint of nervousness.
“You okay?”
“We shouldn’t be talking to each other.”
What? Why? “If it’s about the incident outside the wine bar on 17th, I swear that was a one-off. I’d drunk too much, and I never normally sing in public.”
“Huh? No, it’s not that. You’re investigating the Feinstein abduction, right?”
Prickles rose on the back of Ford’s neck. The laptop, the endless carbs… “Ah, fuck. You’re a reporter?”
“A reporter? No, no way.”
“Then what…?”
“I’m investigating the case too.”
“You?”
She snatched her hand away and faced up to him, arms akimbo. “Yes, on behalf of Micah Ganaway. And why not me? You think because I’m young and female that I’m incapable?”
Because she was female? No, that didn’t come into it. But she was young. Hell, she barely looked old enough to have graduated college, which was another reason why Ford’s dick shouldn’t have been twitching in his pants.
“You’re working for Ganaway? I didn’t think he had enough money to hire his own investigator.”
“His brother retained us.”
“Us?”
“I work for Blackwood Security.”
Blackwood Security. Two words that cast fear into the heart of the Richmond PD. The enemy, or at least, they were according to Duncan. The folks from Blackwood bent the rules regularly, straight-up broke them on occasion, and generally rode roughshod over the entire department. Ford had always figured their paths would cross eventually; he just hadn’t expected it to be under these circumstances.
But he couldn’t deny he was curious. Did everyone who worked for Blackwood look like this girl? If they did, then maybe he was in the wrong damn job.
“Interesting.”
“Interesting? Have you heard of Blackwood?”
“I’m aware of their reputation.”
“Then why haven’t you tossed your coffee over me and bolted out the door?”
“Waste good coffee? No, I don’t think so. And I still don’t know your name.”
The tension in her shoulders eased a fraction. “Hallie. Hallie Chastain.”
“Well, Hallie Chastain, you’re right. I probably shouldn’t be talking to you.”
“And yet you are.”
“And yet I am.”
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