Anya thanked the junior agent who dropped her at the front door of the FBI offices in Snowville. The storm had made the fifteen-minute drive last about half an hour. She barreled through the storm to push open the door. The woman behind the counter and Plexiglass wall pressed a button, and Anya strode down the hallway. She waited for another door to open and then walked into the main bullpen.
Instant heat and activity surrounded her.
“I don’t give one damn about the storm. We’re getting those helicopters in the air right now,” Special Agent Frederick Reese bellowed, shoving papers into a manila file at a wide wooden table. By far the tallest man in the room, he overwhelmed his entire area.
Agents scurried around him, several talking on phones. Two offices sat off to the side, both manned by agents typing furiously on computers.
Anya rushed to him. “What the hell, Reese? How could you not tell me?” Without thinking, she punched him right in the gut.
He barely bent over. “We didn’t want to scare you.”
“You complete dick,” she breathed, clutching her purse tightly. “Where’s my sister? What do you know?”
“We have an update.” He looked down at her, his brown eyes swirling with emotion. “Your sister was taken from a small town called Gold City in Idaho. We found surveillance videos, and we might have an idea where she is.” He scoured the room, and his voice rose. “But we need the helicopters in the air.”
Anya took a step back, her heart thundering.
Reese was six feet of pure male muscle with deep brown eyes and thick brown hair. Wildness and fury lit his eyes.
She caught her breath, heat rushing through her head until her ears rang. “You have to keep it together,” she whispered. She’d yell at him again later. Right now, he had to find her sister. If the FBI discovered he’d been dating Loretta, they might take him off the case. Anya grabbed his arm. “It’s okay. We’ll find her, Reese.”
The door in the back of the room burst open, and a fifty-something agent with silver hair hustled inside. “We have another letter and photograph. Already dusted the envelope, paper, and picture for prints. Nothing.”
Anya’s legs gave way. Her mind numbed.
Reese grabbed her and pushed her into a chair, reaching for the stack. “Fuck. When?”
“Mailed yesterday,” the agent said, stepping back.
Anya shook her head to clear her brain, leaning over to see her name and address scrawled across the front of the envelope. The FBI had issued a forwarding order for her mail after the first few notes. The familiar handwriting made her gag. “Oh God. Reese—”
“Hold on,” he bit out, flipping the paper over. “We don’t know she’s dead.”
A tear slid down Anya’s face, feeling cold. “He sends me a letter after he kills them.” This was the ninth letter.
Reese flattened the letter on the table.
Anya shifted to read it.
Dearest Anya,
Your sister tries to be you, but she can’t. I’m so sorry, but she can’t be you. I should’ve known . . . but I had to try. And she tempted me, wanting me to take her. It was almost a dare. Her hair isn’t red like yours, not really. I haven’t heard her scream yet. Truly, I don’t want to hurt what is yours. I’ll try not to.
XO
Me
“She’s still alive,” Reese said, his hands shaking.
Anya panted out air. “Yes.” There was no alternative. Not really. She tried to stand taller as her knees trembled. More than ever, she wished for her dad. For that security.
A man in jeans and a dark sweater hustled in from one of the offices, a computer tablet in his hands. “The storm is too wild. Even if we took the birds up, we wouldn’t be able to see anything or land, Reese. We have to wait.”
“I’m not waiting.” Reese grabbed a coat off a rack. “What’s the nearest SWAT team to where we think she was kidnapped?”
“Spokane,” a woman spoke up from one of the offices. “Fine. Somebody is taking me via air. Get SWAT from Spokane to get their asses up there right now,” Reese bellowed, motioning to several agents as he strode for the door.
Anya grabbed his arm. “I can’t stay here. Please let me come.”
