Bound to the Bounty Hunter (22 page)

She walked into the Starbucks on high alert. She’d negotiate the terms of a settlement for what her father had stolen, and then no one else would get hurt.

After a few minutes, her name was called as a hand cupped her elbow.

“Come with me.”

A man guided her toward the exit.

She turned and scanned the man.

Middle-aged. Brown hair, forgettable.

He led her to a black Jeep, buckled her in, and then walked to his side of the car. A man sat in the backseat on his cell phone. Sophie turned in her seat to look at him. He was younger than the driver with a scar that cut a diagonal red slash across his face. His cold, brown eyes held hers, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose in unison.

“You don’t look like the usual prayer-for-cash con my father ran, so I’m guessing something different?” she said casually as they pulled into traffic.

If this man came with the two Jeeps that had previously tailed her, her father must have played in a bigger con job than she’d anticipated. She kept count of the number of turns the SUV executed.

The driver smiled, his eyes on the road. “My boss, he’s looking forward to meeting you. He has
plans
…”

The way he said the last word slithered down her spine and landed in her bowels.

“Yes, payment plans.” Her mouth dried. “We need to negotiate terms of the debt my father owed and work out a payment plan.”

“You’re prettier than I thought. Maybe if things don’t work out with my boss, you and I…” His gaze lingered on her breasts.

The man in the back chuckled.

Stay strong, Buttercup
.

Right now she did not need her father in her head, especially since he was the reason she sat here.

She pressed her knees together.

Harlan would be walking into her place, carefully hanging his keys on the hooks screwed into her kitchen wall while calling her name. He’d throw Pongo a treat, then gently pull on her dog’s ears until Pongo would lay splayed on the floor.

Damn
.

She turned to the driver. “Let’s get this done so we can both get on with our lives and no one else will get hurt.”

A flash of metal caught her eye. A sharp pain in her neck.

Shit
.

Her fingers probed the raising welt.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She fought the wave pushing her down. She fought the fear paralyzing her that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life. One she may not survive.

She struggled against the tranquilizer, but it became a losing battle.

The driver said something. Before she slipped into unconsciousness, her brain processed that they’d picked up the wrong person.

Oh, she’d totally screwed up.

It wasn’t Sophie Callaghan they wanted, but some chick named Sarah Something.

Chapter Seventeen

Harlan pressed his foot on the accelerator, and the Viper responded instantly. The meet with Babic would hopefully give him an answer. The unease that curled his gut wasn’t abating. Babic’s insistence he hand over the case files wasn’t sitting right. Babic had sent repeated texts, which Harlan had ignored. Yesterday one of his men turned up at the office with an order from Babic that his man wasn’t leaving without them. Zeb hadn’t taken too kindly when given the message. The man had left empty-handed.

The package sent to Titus turned out to be another snow globe, but Mick hadn’t delivered it. He’d been found by chance by a guy changing his tire on a disused track hundreds of miles away from Denver. The man’s dog had wandered and found the shallow grave. Wildlife had taken their shot before the dog found him. The coroner didn’t have a lot to go on, but there was just enough of him left for a positive ID from his sister, along with the wallet in his jeans.

Harlan had driven to his office to meet with Zeb who’d also had no sleep and looked like shit. Keeping an eye on Annie, who did not want to be watched, Zeb was running on fumes. He and Zeb had analyzed the possibilities. Who knew about the snow globes? The name that kept coming up was Babic.

Petrov had been in contact minutes after Harlan had sent him abbreviated file notes on a semi-secure line, including Sophie’s birthmark and that someone had been sending her snow globes, but the person they had thought responsible had been found dead. Petrov had surprised him by asking if she collected snow globes. He replied that O’Connor had apparently given her the first one, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. After a stretch of silence, Petrov said in a rough voice that he wanted to meet with her as soon as he was back in the country, but dismissed the idea that Babic had any ill intentions toward Sophie. Harlan wasn’t convinced, so he’d lured Babic to a meet this morning with the promise of turning over the files.

Harlan walked into Babic’s office without knocking, a manila folder tucked under his arm with sheets of bare facts on Sophie. Height, weight, age. Nothing that tied her to Petrov.

Babic spun in his chair, snapped the cover of his laptop closed, and stood, a cold smile on his face.

“Finally you have acknowledged my level of authority.” Babic held out his hand. “Case files.”

Harlan smiled through the cramp in his jaw and kept his body loose.

“Why are you sending Sophie snow globes?” he asked quietly.

Nothing moved on Babic’s face.

Babic crossed his arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is a snow globe?”

The strong, nauseating scent of Babic’s cologne filled the office. He stared at Harlan, the lines on his forehead deepening. A tic pulsed in his jaw.

Harlan advanced.

Babic’s gaze landed on the folder. He licked his lips.

“Titus? Not very nice beating up an old man.” Harlan kept his voice deliberately low and smooth.

Again, nothing moved on Babic’s face, expect the slight flare of his nostrils.

Babic held out his hand. “I know nothing of a Titus.” His fists curled. “That you think I’d beat up an old man means you know nothing about me.” A cold grin curled his lips. “I shall make it known to Petrov what you have accused me of.” A look of cold fury spread across his face. “The case files,” he said in a voice that would scare the crap out of most men.

Harlan studied him for a beat longer. Had he got it wrong? Nothing in Babic’s answers indicated that he knew anything about snow globes. Nothing in his body language gave him away when he’d mentioned Titus, but still, something held him back.

Babic’s cell cut through the tense silence. He stalked to his desk, his eyes never leaving Harlan. He slid his finger across the glass and answered with a terse “yes.” His eyes widened before he turned his back.

Harlan strained to hear any of the conversation, but could hear nothing. Babic stayed silent.

The hairs on the back of Harlan’s neck flamed into life.

Babic turned, a triumphant smile on his face.

A smile that twisted Harlan’s bowel.

Babic picked up his computer and tucked it under his arm.

Harlan went to block him, holding out the folder, but Babic brushed past him, surprising Harlan with his speed and strength.

“I no longer need your notes.” Babic wrenched open the door and walked with determination toward the parking lot, not once looking back.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

Harlan jogged out of Babic’s office toward his car, his phone at his ear. Zeb confirmed everything was as it should be.

Whatever had gone down with Babic’s phone call had changed the man’s demeanor. He’d gone from pissed and surly to victorious.

He had something on Sophie.

He skidded out of the parking lot toward Sophie’s place, his blood running cold.

Zeb had checked in with the entire team of covert operatives guarding Sophie’s house. A gardening crew was across the street. A meter reader walked the block. A man whose car had broken down looked bored while on his phone waiting for AAA. Harlan had driven away, seemingly leaving Sophie unguarded.

He’d put five men on the first street behind her house. He put another five men on the second cross street. Sophie was covered. No one had anything to report. But the meet with Babic didn’t add up. They had to have missed something.

“Sophie.”

Harlan hooked his keys on the rack in the kitchen, noting a mug in the sink.

If he had to relive an image of Titus in the hospital—a bandage on the old man’s head, Sally curled into a ball in a chair, her eyes locked on her husband’s, her face deathly pale—one more time, he’d explode.

No one else would be hurt.

“Soph,” he called again.

Nothing.

Harlan walked into the bedroom and stopped dead at the unmade bed.

Sophie always made the bed. Everything else in the place could resemble a tornado hit, but the bed had to be made. The sheets had to have hospital corners, covers smoothed, and a million pillows piled on.

Shit
.

Please make this an administration fuckup, and she’s sitting with one of my staff
.

He dropped into work mode and did a thorough recon of the house, his intestines trying to bail out his ass. He pulled out his phone and called Zeb, who barked that no one had her, and he’d be there in ten.

No sign of Sophie.

He jogged to Titus’s, hoping like hell she sat across from Sally having a cup of tea. The fresh-faced nurse told him Titus and Sally were resting and no, she hadn’t seen Sophie.

Zeb’s car rolled to a halt behind Israel’s. Zeb exited the car, already in conversation.

“Annie doesn’t know where she is. She’s going to check with Gemma and Pipe and get back to me.”

Harlan closed his eyes, assessing the information.

Sophie had vanished.

Under his watch.

How the fuck had she disappeared?

His heart beat so hard it hurt his head, but it was nothing like the pain driving adrenaline around his body.

They had nothing.

Not a single fucking thing
.

Zeb’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Let me run this.”

“No,” he barked, the words grating out of his raw throat.

“You’re too close, man, let me run this.” Zeb’s hand gripped deep into his shoulder.

Harlan closed his eyes, pulling himself together. Every thought had to be laser-focused on finding Sophie and bringing her back to him. If he let her lovely face into his head he’d be screwed and so would she. He couldn’t think about her attitude and how she made him fight for a glimpse of Sophie the woman. He wanted Sophie the woman, all of her, and he wasn’t going forward without her in his life.

The world was closing in. One wrong move and he could jeopardize her, which meant for once stepping back and putting Zeb in charge.

He stared at Zeb and nodded.

Zeb’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “I’ve got this.”

Harlan turned at the slap of the door opening.

Annie and Gemma ran into the room, breathless and pale.

“Have you found her?” Annie asked, her eyes wide, mismatched flip-flops on her feet.

Zeb moved directly to her side, looking pissed. “I told you to stay where you were, and I’d keep you updated.”

Annie glared at him. “Yeah, well, you tell me what to do a lot, but this isn’t about you or me, this is about Sophie.
When
she’s back, this will be over, and you’ll be gone.”

Zeb’s eyes narrowed.

“Please,” Gemma pleaded, nervously rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, rubbing her biceps.

“Let’s run what we have.” Zeb planted his legs wide, his arms crossed.

Pacing the room, Harlan gave them a quick rundown on the meet with Babic. He had to keep moving. If he stopped… “I checked with county, and the jumper Sophie took down at a local gym is still locked up.”

“Have you spoken to Petrov?” Zeb asked.

Harlan shook his head. He wasn’t going to punch in that number until he had confirmation, either way.

“I know how Sophie got out,” Gemma said in a quiet voice. “The night we went to Hostage for a girls’ night out, I picked her up in a local park. She talked about running the maze, a demon slayer dog named Fang, and going through fifteen backyards.”

“We’ll work that angle. Call cab companies. Was there a pickup from the park today?” Zeb spoke to Arabella who walked into the room.

“Got it.” Ten minutes later, she nodded and swiped her finger across her phone. “The cab took her to a large suburban shopping mall, twenty-five minutes away from the park.”

“We need people on Sophie’s circle. But if
we
didn’t know where she was, how could
they
?” Harlan asked, still pacing, not letting any of the images of Sophie being someone’s fuck-toy into his head because, if he did, he’d lose it.

Zeb moved closer to Annie, who took a giant step away, her gaze narrow. “I will stab you if you come near me.”

Israel moved directly to Gemma, who looked up at him, startled. “No, I’m good, but thanks, Thor,” she whispered.

Israel didn’t move.

“No seriously, I’m good.” Gemma’s voice started to rise and she backed away. Iz moved with her.

“Sophie said she had a plan,” Annie said, her eyes flashing. “Said you wouldn’t talk to her, so she was running her own thing.”

Gemma held out her phone as if it would bite her. “I received phone messages asking if I knew where she was, and if I did to let the guy know and I’d receive an envelope of cash.”

“Fuck,” Harlan said as the words sank into his body like drops of acid, searing through his flesh.

“She took down the number.” Gemma’s eyes filled with tears.

Annie reached out and grabbed her friend’s hand. Iz took the phone and held it to his ear, his face darkening.

“No answer,” he said. “I can ping the cell tower the last call came from. It’ll take time. These guys are professionals; they’ll have routed this fucker all around the world, I imagine, but I’m on it.”

Harlan’s blood turned to ice. He’d kept Sophie out of the loop and controlled the situation, so she’d taken matters into her own hands. He should have talked to her this morning. He should have been
here
.

Pongo pushed his nose into Harlan’s hand. Three swift pops filled the air. Anguished brown eyes stared up at him.

Harlan picked up a chair and threw it against the wall.

Zeb nodded to Iz. “Let us know, yeah?”

Harlan dialed Babic.

No signal.

The man was never out of range.

Cold sweat crawled across his body.

“Iz, can you run this number for me?” He barked out Babic’s number.

After what felt like four hours, but had been only twenty minutes, Iz closed his laptop and stood.

“I’ve hacked the CCTV of the area. Sophie walked into a Starbucks and willingly walked out five minutes later with a man. The image is grainy and I can’t get a detailed look at him. They left in a black Jeep. I could only get a partial on the plates, which were obscured, intentionally.” He paused. “I cross-referenced roads in a twenty-mile radius, but with only two digits from the plate to run, the variables are too great.” His face pained. “I’ve pinged the number you gave me. It’s turned off. The last signal came this morning.”

Harlan stopped pacing and said the words that speared straight into his barely beating heart.

“We’ve got nothing.”

…

Sophie moved her feet slightly, then her hands.

No cuffs.

That’s a good sign.

A pillow cradled her head. She tugged on the blanket that covered her.

Another good sign.

At least she wasn’t naked, shackled to a concrete wall in a rotting cell with a cellmate called Bubba.

“Sophie?”

A vaguely familiar voice infiltrated her haze.

“Sophie, you’re safe.”

The friendly voice didn’t hold a threat.

She opened one eye and shuffled backward.

“You.”

Dug looked down at her, his face deeply unhappy.

Her stomach rolled, and her hand covered her mouth. “I need to go to the bathroom.” Her body was now awash with unpleasant, urgent sensations.

She stood, fighting a wave of nausea and the wobbles. Dug walked ahead of her, opened a door, and flicked on the light. With her hand over her mouth, she pushed past him and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

After her body was empty, she gulped a mouthful of water out of the faucet. She touched the red mark on her neck and winced.

She checked out the room. One window, too small to climb out of, no doors that led to other rooms. Her hand hit her back pocket.

Damn
.

Her phone hadn’t made the journey with her.

She quietly opened the bathroom cabinet, looking to find something she could use as a weapon.

Don’t think I can fashion a bar of soap into a killer weapon.

“Sophie, are you okay?”

Her eyes flicked to the door.

No lock.

“Have you got my Taser?” she asked, leaning against the door, gripping the door handle. She was no match for Dug, but she’d go down fighting.