Page 25 of Untamed Sinner

There’s a sound, like he’s walking. “And you think Turner knows who she is.”

“I think Turner put her in that book for a reason.”

“Send me the picture.”

“Hendricks is running it.” I wince right after the admission leaves my mouth. Damn it.

“Hendricks?” Gabriel drawls, amused again. “So you did contact him.”

“Don’t start.” If he finds out I’m living with Hendrick for the next five days, he’ll have a field day at my expense. I reach for my coffee. “I need you to ask Turner who she is and what happens in seven days.”

“You want me to ask Turner?” He huffs a disbelieving laugh. “Because you think he’ll tell me?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see it. “I want you to make him answer.”

“That sounds more like you.” There’s a creak, maybe from furniture, and then Gabriel asks, “What does Hendricks think?”

“That there’s a connection between Turner and Ashford.”

“And you?”

“I think Ashford hiring Hendricks to find me right when I’m digging into Turner’s business is one hell of a coincidence.”

“You don’t believe in coincidences.”

I shake my head. “Neither does Hendricks.”

“Huh.”

Something about that huh irritates me. “What?”

“I’m just enjoying how quickly the two of you have become a we.”

Frowning, I sit up. “We are not a we.”

“Of course not.”

“You’re irritating.” I hear the front door close. Craning my neck, I look out the window to see Hendricks heading out. Where is he going? When is he coming back?

“Listen, Mandy, I’ll talk to Turner, but don’t expect anything worthwhile from him.” He pauses. “Are you sure it’s worth it?”

I know what he’s asking. We keep things fair between us—he does me a favor, I do one back. I know it’s a big ask, having him lean on Turner, if Turner is even in any kind of state to answer. He’s been Gabriel’s guest for five weeks now. I know Gabriel, and I know most people wouldn’t be able to withstand that.

But I need to try. A young woman’s life is at stake, and just maybe I’ll get Ashford. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Gabriel turns all business. “I’ll be in touch,” he says, and then he hangs up.

I set my phone on the table and look out the window toward where Hendricks disappeared.

27

COLE

The cell is adequate.

Concrete walls. Steel door. Cot bolted to the floor. Toilet in the corner. No windows. No natural light. Just the fluorescent fixture overhead and the chain attached to my wrists and ankles.

I’ve been here thirty-six days. I know because I count—not because I’m desperate but because information is power, even in captivity.