* * *
Sin woke with a start, grabbed his weapon from beneath his pillow, and jumped out of bed. Wresting control from the anxiety, he stood there listening to the sound of the furnace blowing warm air through the vents. He checked his phone. Almost six o’clock in the morning. Then, he checked for activity on the surveillance cameras surrounding the exterior of his home. Nothing. Not even a fox or a deer had run through his yard.
Wiping the thin line of sweat from his brow, he stared out the picture window into the darkness.
His D.C. home was tucked into an upscale neighborhood overlooking the Potomac River. Despite the added security, he never felt safe at night. He threw on the reindeer comfy pants—a Christmas present from Desiree—and padded into the kitchen, Glock in one hand, phone in the other.
After downing a glass of juice and putting on a pot of coffee, he scrolled through the dozens of unopened emails that had cluttered his inbox over the past few hours. Clearly, D.C.’s power players didn’t sleep much, either.
Sin dispelled the recurring nightmare by working, his go-to to keep the demons at bay. But he couldn’t focus, and found himself rereading the threatening texts more than once. Never before had someone wanted to kill him, and then acted upon it.
Later that afternoon, as his driver chauffeured him to Evangeline’s, he closed the privacy screen before calling Senator Applegate.
“Sinclair, thanks for checking in,” said Winona. “Bethany is coming around, but it’s slow going. Mark and I remain hopeful she won’t run away again.”
“How’s the baby?”
“She’s a doll. So sweet.”
“I’m hoping you can help me. An FBI agent would like to speak with Bethany about her point of contact. She’s been working a case—”
“No. No law enforcement.”
“I understand your reluctance. But the agent is Evangeline Worthington, the woman wrongfully accused in the sex video scandal. I’m helping her clear her name. And by bringing Bethany home, I interfered with her case to ID these baby traffickers. Whatever information you or Bethany provide will remain confidential.”
“So, we’re off the record?”
“One hundred percent.”
“I’ll talk this over with Mark and get back to you.”
No sooner had he hung up than Jacoby called. “Find anything on the cameras?” Sin asked.
“Someone wearing a hoodie walked by the rear of the club three times the night of the fire.”
“Can you get that to the arson detective?”
“Already did.” Jacoby paused. “One other thing. Birdie was telling the truth about Evangeline and an agent in New Jersey.”
“And?”
“He was legally separated from his wife. They hooked up once. After, he sent her a couple of texts that went unanswered.”
“Sounds like a dead end. I’m headed to Rico’s in Miami. Be back in a day or two. Can you manage things while I’m gone?”
“Always do,” Jacoby said.
Sin ended the call as his driver pulled up in front of Evangeline’s. As Sin headed toward the front door, she came outside. His heart pumped a little harder every time they were together. He wanted to run his hands over her soft skin, let muscle memory kick in, and get lost in her never-ending beauty.
She’d swept her dark hair into a casual updo that made her blue eyes pop. Instead of flying to Florida on business, they should be escaping to a tropical paradise where they could laze around on the beach and make love until the sun peeked over the horizon.
“What?” she asked, plucking him from his fantasy. “Should I have dressed up?”
She’d worn tight black jeans that hugged her long, toned legs and a bulky sweater that was so roomy he could slide his hands inside and…Stop.
“You look perfect, Evan.” He meant it, too.
A pinkish hue colored her cheeks. “So, where are we staying?”
