Now he just had to convinceher. God, what if she’d already written him off as not worth the trouble? His heartbeat faltered. He wouldn’t blame her at all. He’d fucked up big time.Please, let her give me another chance.
He turned on the speed and raced over the asphalt toward his parents’ neighborhood. This wasn’t a conversation for the phone. He needed to talk to her in person, grovel if necessary. It was time to go home.
A minute later, the waist belt that carried his phone, ID, and a credit card vibrated. He stopped and yanked open the zipper to retrieve his cell, a call from Valerie flashing on the screen.
“Yeah?” he asked, out of breath.
“Hey, I did a little more digging, and I think you need to hear this before you make any hard decisions about Emma based on the shell corporations.”
He almost laughed. Where was Valerie two hours ago when he’d gone off half-cocked and ruined everything?
“She’s hiding something,” Valerie said, “but she has good reasons to be so protective of her privacy. And maybe a little extra motivation for going after rich dirtbags who prey on vulnerable people,” she added, her tone full of admiration.
Jason’s mouth went dry. “What is it?” The hard edge of the phone bit into his palm.
“Have you ever heard of Remy Blaze?”
His lungs seized up in his chest. Oh, fuck.No.
Jason blew out a long breath and tried to unclench his free hand. “The revenge porn guy the FBI shut down a few years ago?” His voice sounded ten times calmer than he felt. He hadn’t followed Blaze’s case closely, but he remembered the headlines, the man’s complete lack of remorse over the people whose lives he ruined.
“Exactly,” Valerie said, her voice softening. “So, it’s been pretty well buried, but both Emma and her friend Natalie were witnesses for the prosecution.”
Jason’s blood ran cold. Hadn’t she been through enough already? And yet, she’d come out fighting like a fucking warrior, ready to take down the Trey Hardings and Remy Blazes of the world.
She was goddamned magnificent, and he loved her, and he couldn’t wait to get down on his knees and tell her in person.
“Anything else you want to know, I think you should get from Emma directly.”
“Absolutely,” Jason said. “Thank you.”
He’d barely ended his call with Valerie when Tyler rang. Exasperated, Jason slowed his pace, but kept walking. “Hey, Ty. I’m out running, but I was going to call you when I get home. I need to get on the next flight to LAX from any nearby airport. I can be at Oakland in about an hour.”
“Okay.” The sound of tapping on a keyboard came through the phone. “But, um, actually, there’s a voice message I think you should listen to immediately. It’s about Emma.”
Jason’s heart leapt. Had she called him?
Except Tyler sounded pretty grim. Jason frowned. “About her, orfromher?”
“About her.”
“Can you read it to me?” he asked, trying not to snap like his patience.
The kid cleared his throat. “The number was blocked. I’ll just play it for you.” There were light scuffing sounds, and then a deep, smug voice said, “Hello, Jason Chin. You can call me Saber. I believe I have something—or should I say someone—you want.”
Monday at two, Dallas followed Nolan out of the Tipsy Bird in Eagle Rock and swore. There was no sign of Emma’s car on or around the property, and neither the bartender nor the hostess recognized her photo, though she might have been in disguise.
“She could’ve parked and walked,” Nolan said as he slid into the passenger seat of Dallas’s car. His delicious scent and general essence—pheromones or whatever—filled the small space, seeping into Dallas’s consciousness until he wanted to scream. That or turn off the engine and ravish the man in broad daylight.
Instead, he said, “Right,” and proceeded to drive up and down every side street within a half-mile radius of the bar, spotting dozens of silver Priuses as they criss-crossed Colorado Boulevard.
None were Emma’s.
“Fuck.” He squeezed the steering wheel of his own car, twisting until his knuckles turned white.
Nolan put a hand on his arm, but he ignored it. They were in a tentative truce, but he couldn’t afford to let the man’s presence distract him from finding Emma.
She’d failed to check in today after her scheduled meeting with an informant. With Ash and Hailey working another angle on the Fisswert Games case in northern California, he and Nolan were on their own to find Emma. They’d gone to her home first. When she didn’t answer several rounds of doorbells and knocking, they’d broken in, finding the modest two-bedroom bungalow empty, no clothes or suitcases obviously missing.
