San Antonio Secret. Robin Perini
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you seem to find ways to insert yourself into places you shouldn’t be.”
“The Kazakhstan situation was different. Zane needed help. He just didn’t know it yet,” Sierra countered. “I found the link between the terrorists and that charity, didn’t I?”
“Not the point. I’m not saying you’re not good at your job. Hell, you’re the best. We all know that.”
Her mouth dropped open, but instead of coming back at him like Rafe had expected, she gripped the sheets, twisting the fabric. “I might be good at the keyboard, but not in the field. I screwed up. I should’ve stopped it.”
Her eyes shifted away from his gaze. She seemed to be struggling for words. Finally a sharp curse escaped her. “I want more than anything to kick you out of this room and tell you and Noah to shove your concern where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“Sierra—”
“But I can’t.” She lifted her chin and met his gaze, direct, unwavering. “I bought a burner phone to call Ransom. I need CTC’s help, Rafe. Someone kidnapped my best friend and her daughter. My goddaughter.” She paused, pain slicing over her features. “I let it happen, and I need you to help me save them.”
* * *
MALLORY COULDN’T STOP staring at the blood seeping from the dead man’s body. Her insides went cold. She glanced back at the trailer. She had to get Chloe out of here, but how?
“Get rid of the body,” the voice from the passenger side of the police car snapped. “And bring the girl here.”
“Yes, boss,” her guard said.
“No. Please.” Mallory would say anything, promise anything, to keep her daughter safe.
Two men picked up Judson and carried him to the side of the trailer. Mallory’s captor disappeared inside, leaving her alone.
Every instinct screamed to run.
A tall man opened the car door and stood. He wore a cop’s uniform. There was a touch of gray at his temples; his eyes were obscured by sunglasses.
“I wouldn’t advise trying to escape, Mrs. Harrigan. Or your daughter will pay the price.”
The aluminum door fluttered closed.
“Mommy! Don’t leave me anymore. I was scared.”
Chloe pulled at the cowboy’s arm.
“Let her go,” the cop ordered.
Within seconds Chloe raced to her mother. Mallory lifted her little girl into her arms and hugged her tight. She looked over her daughter’s shoulder. “Please let her go. She’s only five.”
“Chloe, do you want to leave?” the police officer asked.
The little girl nodded against her mother’s shoulder. “Princess Buttercup needs me. She has to eat her dinner. Kitties can’t miss dinner, you know. You have to take good care of them.”
The man smiled, a grin that made Mallory’s stomach roil.
“I’ll bring your cat to you, Chloe, but only if you tell me something very important.”
Chloe bit her lip. “I don’t know anything ’portant.”
“I imagine you do. Look at me.”
Twisting in Mallory’s arms, her daughter stared at the man. He stroked his chin. “What’s the name of the woman who tried to help you escape from the van?”
Mallory tightened her hold on her daughter.
“You’re squishing me, Mommy. Not so tight.” She wiggled and stared hard at the cop’s chest. “You have a shiny badge, so you’re not a stranger, but why do you want to know about Sierra? I saw her fall. Is she okay?”
With a silent groan, Mallory closed her eyes.
The cop smiled. “An unusual name. Perhaps your mother would be willing to tell us her friend’s last name.”
Chloe nodded. “Mommy knows it. I know it too. Just like my name is Chloe Harrigan. Sierra’s name is Sierra Bradford.”
The man nodded at his driver. “You get that?”
“Yes, sir.” Within seconds he’d placed a call.
Mallory’s hope sank. Now that her daughter had inadvertently put a target on Sierra’s back, how would her best friend ever be able to find them? She bit her lip, her mind whirling. She was on her own. How could she save them?
The cop crossed his arms in front of him, his smirk too satisfied. “Thank you for the information, Chloe. You’ve been a lot of help.”
“Where’s Princess Buttercup?” Chloe asked with a pout. “You promised.”
“And I always keep my promises,” he said. “Eventually. Right now, Glen will take you to your room. Your mother and I are going to have a little...chat.”
Leaning her forehead against her daughter’s hair, Mallory tried not to tremble.
Glen tugged Chloe from her mother’s arms.
“Mommy!”
The cop grabbed Mallory’s arm. Hard. She had no idea why they’d taken her, but she was afraid she’d soon find out.
“I have a few questions for you, Mrs. Harrigan. If I hear what I want, maybe your daughter won’t have to watch her mother die.”
The stillness in the motel room made Sierra want to squirm. She sat perched on the edge of the bed, back stiff. She’d filled Rafe in on the van, the kidnapping, everything.
How Mallory had called her after discovering missing money at her job for the San Antonio Rodeo. How Sierra had followed the money trail by digging into a few files and discovering numbers that had been adjusted after Mallory had reconciled her books. How they’d both wondered if her ex’s threats about their custody battle might be related. How that routine traffic stop on the way to pick up Chloe from school had led to the abduction and her getting shot. No point in sugarcoating the truth.
Of course, in typical Rafe fashion, he hadn’t said a word. The muscle in his jaw pulsed erratically, and he just stared. Stone-faced and silent.
His unblinking gaze bored into her. Uh-oh. She recognized the expression and forced herself not to look away. Rafe might be an enigma to practically everyone, but she knew a few things about him. He maintained control 99 percent of the time. She’d only seen him lose it once: their night together. One he obviously regretted—as did she.
Sierra still couldn’t believe Noah had sent Rafe, of all people, to find her. Okay, maybe she could believe it. Rafe was one of the few people Noah really trusted—outside family. Still, she would have preferred to face almost anyone else from CTC.
Her discomfort didn’t matter, though. She’d had no choice but to ask for his help. Mallory and Chloe couldn’t wait. They needed rescuing.
And damn him, Rafe was the very best. CTC called on him when the job was too complicated, too dangerous and required no nerves and even less fear.
And now, she needed him.
With a shaky hand she pushed back her hair over her ear. He was full-on quiet, which meant he didn’t want to speak whatever was on his mind. A waft of the antiseptic he’d used still burned. She wrinkled her nose. She hated the odor. At twelve she’d spent every afternoon at the hospital during her mother’s final illness. That scent did more than make her gut ache, it made her heart hurt. She’d been unable to do anything to prevent her mother’s death. Sierra could do something now...if Mallory and Chloe were still alive.
No. She wouldn’t let herself even