“I hate to say this, but maybe Ethan can recall something you can’t.”
“Yeah, maybe. But I can’t see using him to find my answers. If there’s a chance I could trigger a lifetime of bad memories for him, that would kill me.”
“I’m sorry, Jessie. Wish things had turned out better for you, but I appreciate your help on my case. And at least now you know you have a brother. That’s got to count in the win column.”
“Yeah, it does.” She nodded and filled her lungs with cool night air. “You’re a good man, Tobias, but I’ve gotta tell ya. I’d never play poker with you.” She forced a smile. “See you around.”
Jessie got in her car, knowing Chief Cook was right. Finding out she now had a brother living in Alaska counted for a lot. She had ties to the Alaska State Troopers, through retired trooper, Joe Tanu. If she wanted to locate her brother, she could call Joe and find Ethan in a New York minute, but would that be the right thing to do?
Nothing in Jessie’s life had ever been easy. Easy was for sissies.
Next day
The drive back from Wisconsin would have dragged on forever except that she filled her thoughts with the images of Ethan growing up. She pictured herself at his graduation and imagined whole scenarios in her head where she played the part of his big sister, giving him advice that he’d roll his eyes at.
Filling her mind with those kinds of memories were better than the ones she had—the gaps, the nightmares, and the flashes of new horrors that she knew were coming from Angela DeSalvo’s house. Angela had been the only memory she had of a mother, but after she’d learned the truth, those memories would be tainted. The woman had tried to take care of them, but she never got the chance. And Jessie had to remind herself that Angela hadn’t done the one thing she should have.
She should have called the police.
By the time Jessie got to Chicago and pulled into the underground parking of Seth’s building, she couldn’t wait to see Harper. She found her heart racing, just thinking about him. And when she got out of her rental car, she didn’t even take her bag. She left it in the car and ran to Seth.
When he answered the door, with Floyd grinning at his feet, she flung herself into his arms and breathed him in.
“Ah, Jessie, I missed you, too. I’m glad you’re home.” He nuzzled her neck, and she felt his sweet breath on her skin. In his arms, she felt warm and safe—and loved.
“Home.” She said the word, getting used to it. “Yeah, I’m home.”
When Seth said the word “home,” it sounded damned good coming from his lips. It gave her the courage to say what she’d come to tell him.
“I’m moving back to Chicago. And if the offer is still good, I want to make a home . . . with you. I love you, Seth.”
He grinned and wrapped her in his arms. “Yeah, the offer’s good. Are you kidding? I love you, too, Jess.”
Jessie hadn’t grasped before how much it meant for her to have a family, but on her drive down to Chicago, she realized she already had one.
“You’re all the family I need, Harper.”
Flashes of her brother’s face melded into the many memories she’d already built with Harper, with more to come. And for the first time in a long while, Jessie was truly happy.
Chapter 20
New York City
11:00
P.M.
Garrett had taken his time getting back to New York. He had justified the time by thinking he needed to clear his head, but in truth, he wasn’t sure how to do that. Getting over a woman like Alexa Marlowe wasn’t intended to be easy.
Riding in the back of a cab, he watched the blur of neon pass his window and barely paid attention to the streets as they went by. Seeing her as a brunette had surprised him. And she’d been fearless going in for Kinkaid, risking her life to save his. Garrett still hadn’t gotten used to wrapping up a mission and having her walk out of his life until the next time. Coming back to New York wasn’t the same, especially knowing she had taken a few days off to help Kinkaid heal.
The taxi pulled to the curb at the private entrance to his building. With a travel bag over his shoulder, Garrett paid the driver and headed inside. Before he got out his keycard to unlock the door, two men stopped him on the street as the cab pulled away.
“Donovan Cross wants to see you.” The man nudged his head toward the curb as a black sedan pulled up. “Now.”
One man stood in front of him, the other was at his back. And a third man emerged from the shadows to join them. From what he could tell, all of the men had weapons. And he knew the look. They were ex-military or covert ops. Cross had sent an invitation he wouldn’t be able to refuse.
“Lead the way, gentlemen.”
Before he got into the vehicle, they searched him for weapons and confiscated a Beretta that he carried in a holster under his suit jacket and the .380 Walther PPK/S that he had strapped to his ankle. Cross’s men were quick and efficient. After they’d tossed his bag in the trunk, they opened the back door of the sedan and got in both sides, leaving him in the middle.
Garrett had let his guard down. Alexa had warned him about Cross. He knew something was off, yet he did nothing about it. He thought he’d have time once he got back to home turf, but that wasn’t going to happen. For Cross to get this aggressive, he had to have a lot of confidence someone was backing his play. Whatever Donovan Cross was up to, Garrett was about to find out—and no one would have his back.
Forty minutes later
Garrett sat on a wooden chair under a harsh light. He hadn’t been blindfolded, and his hands hadn’t been tied. He was merely . . . waiting. He sat center stage in an empty warehouse that must have been near the docks. He smelled the faint odor of fuel that mixed with a heady stench coming off the East River.
The men who had taken him stood in the shadows beyond the light, making it hard for him to see them. Only the echo of their footsteps gave them away. And being good operatives, they hadn’t talked to him.
“I thought you said Cross would be here,” he called out.
When no one answered him, he squinted into the dark, looking for any means of escape, but before he found one, a door creaked open. He saw the shadow of a man in an overcoat eclipse a security light near a side entrance. And he heard the low murmurs of two men talking before one of them walked toward him. When the man came into the light, Garrett recognized him.
“Donovan Cross. I hear you’ve got ambitions and a touch of job envy,” he said.
When he tried to stand, Cross shook his head, and said, “Please . . . sit down.” And to the rest of his men, he yelled an order. “Give us privacy, gentlemen. I can take it from here.”
Without a word, the three men left them alone in the warehouse. The move for privacy really stumped Garrett. He had no idea what Donovan Cross was up to.
“Why all the secrecy? A little melodramatic, even for you. What do you want, Cross?”
“I don’t want anything from you, but I can’t speak for everyone. You’ve made enemies, Garrett. And unfortunately, I’m the messenger.”
“Ever hear of e-mail?”
Cross smiled. “You can’t walk away from this, I’m afraid.”
He looked at his watch and held it up to the light.
“It’s almost time.” Cross looked at Garrett. “For the record, I didn’t want it to come to this, but I don’t see any other way. I’m sorry.”
Minutes later