“Do we?” She desperately wanted to believe he was right about that. But while she’d joined him in prayer, deep down, she couldn’t help wondering why her life had turned out this way.

  Her dad had tried to do the right thing. He’d escaped from a life of crime. Embraced the Amish, joining their faith and becoming a family man.

  His dream hadn’t lasted long, and the past eighteen years they’d moved every year or two just to remain hidden from the Marcheses. But the stubborn mafia men had continued searching for them.

  So her dad had decided to do the next right thing, provide information to the Feds.

  Only to almost be shot at for his efforts.

  Tears pricked her eyes. She wasn’t a crier, so she quickly brushed them away.

  “Abby, please.” Wyatt sighed and pulled her closer still and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Try not to assume the worst.”

  She rested her head against his chest, drawing in his unique musky scent. If anyone had told her she’d be seeking comfort and strength from Wyatt Kane, she’d have laughed her head off.

  Now she wished she could stay cradled in his arms forever.

  Whoa, not forever. Where had that come from? She forced herself to ease away from him, keeping her gaze averted from his, lest he read her thoughts. “I—uh, should wash up.”

  He didn’t move, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. When she finally looked up at him, she found his green eyes mesmerizing. Then they dropped to her mouth.

  Without thinking, she leaned in to kiss him. The moment their lips brushed, she realized this was a mistake.

  Because kissing him knocked all rational thought from her mind, making her long for something she’d never dared wish for.

  The warning lights flashing in the back of her mind finally gave her the strength to pull out of his warm embrace. “I—uh, sorry.” She jumped off the edge of the bed. “Excuse me.”

  “Abby, I’m sorry...”

  “No! Don’t be.” The last thing she wanted was for him to apologize for her kiss. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. “I’m the one who should apologize. It’s been a long day.”

  He didn’t say anything, but the way he continued to hold her gaze made her knees feel weak. To stop from making an even bigger fool of herself, she swept the bag of toiletries off the table and headed to the tiny bathroom, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Bracing her hands on the edge of the sink, she pulled herself together. But when she looked up, she wanted to groan. The mirror confirmed her fair skin had betrayed her. Her face was bright red.

  Enough. This odd attraction she had for the man she’d once despised was not real. Their situation was abnormal, to say the least. Once the danger was over, she wouldn’t see Wyatt again. He’d go back to his life with the FBI, while she and her dad would settle someplace, maybe even in Green Lake to be near Rachel.

  Yes, that was a good plan for her future. One that didn’t feature Wyatt at all.

  Her stern lecture to her image helped calm her racing heart. After she finished using the facilities, she found the courage to face Wyatt.

  He was waiting for her, still watching the news. “Hey, are you hungry?”

  She wondered if he was always so focused on food. Remembering the nachos they’d barely touched, she took pity on him and nodded. “I could eat.”

  “Great. They offer pizza deliveries here.” He paused, then asked, “You do like pizza, right?”

  “Yes, I like pizza.” She appreciated the way he’d lightened the tone. “But no anchovies.”

  “And no pineapple,” he said. “Fruit does not belong on pizza.”

  She had to laugh. “Not my favorite, either.”

  “Great, I’ll put the order in now.” He stood and headed over to where he had his new disposable phone charging up. She was glad their relationship was back on a normal footing.

  Even if she secretly longed for more.

  * * *

  That amazing kiss had changed everything. Wyatt tried to push the memory aside by ordering dinner, but it hadn’t worked.

  He still wanted to kiss her, again.

  This was hardly the time or the place to think about Abby as an attractive woman. They were in grave danger, and he needed to put all his energy into bringing Hawthorne to justice.

  Keeping his attention on the job hadn’t been a problem before. Hadn’t Emma left him because of his dedication to his career? Back then he’d found it easy to forget about her as he worked.

  Why couldn’t he do that with Abby?

  When they’d finished eating, he escaped to his room. He wanted to believe they were safe here for the night, but that didn’t mean he was going to lower his guard.

  Wyatt woke up every few hours, listening intently and peering through the window to search for potential threats before going back to sleep. He estimated he’d only gotten about five hours of sleep total, but that was better than nothing.

  He wished he dared to call Kevin Twain directly, but the shooting incident made him leery of making the same mistake. He couldn’t even say for sure the office would be open for business after Jerome Gardner’s murder.

  Should they go north to Wisconsin, instead? No, they needed to try to see Twain. They’d come this far. He couldn’t just leave without attempting to find something to go on.

  Hawthorne would not get away with this.

  Abby was still sleeping, so he quickly showered, then turned his attention to breakfast. He thought it would be better to eat somewhere close to their destination.

  What he really needed was a computer now that he didn’t have his smartphone. He remembered seeing one in the hotel lobby, so he left Abby a note and headed down to use the device.

  When he searched for the law office of Gardner and Twain, the first hit was related to the shooting incident. He scanned the article but didn’t learn anything new. Pulling up the website, he navigated the pages until he found pictures of both Jerome Gardner and Kevin Twain.

  Jerome looked to be the younger of the two men, or maybe Kevin just appeared older because he was bald. The website listed the address as being in the Dettmer Building, suite 6000.

  He did a broader search on the Dettmer building itself, using a map program to get a three-sixty-degree view of the place. No way was he going to use the front door this time. He identified each of the other building entrances and exits. There were several to choose from, but one located on the southeast side seemed to offer the safest approach.

  Lastly, he found a restaurant that offered parking located a mile from the Dettmer office building. They could eat and head over to see Twain. They wouldn’t be gone long enough to risk their vehicle being booted or towed.

  Satisfied with the plan, he rose. As he turned, he saw Abby walking toward him. It took every bit of willpower he possessed not to kiss her.

  “Good morning.” His smile faded when he caught the glint of anger in her eyes. “What? I left a note!”

  “One I didn’t see right away.” She blew out a breath. “I was scared something had happened to you.”

  “I needed to borrow the computer.” He felt guilty for worrying her. “I looked up the office building and found a restaurant close by. I figure we can eat there, then walk over in time to meet with Twain since they don’t open until nine o’clock.”

  Her anger faded. “Okay. But next time? Wake me up rather than sneaking off.”

  “I will.” He was surprised at how easily she gave up the argument, something Emma would never have done, as they turned back toward their rooms.

  After Abby finished cleaning up, they headed out to the borrowed SUV. With the map in his mind, he had no trouble finding the restaurant.

  Once they’d placed their order and had cups of coffee, he quickly told her about the side entrance he planned to use to get inside.

  “There was nothing on the website about the office being closed for the day?”

  “Nope.” He didn’t have anything against lawyers, but in his experience, they treated time as money. It would take something more drastic than an unexpected death to close, even for a few days. But then again, he tended to be cynical when it came to defense lawyers, especially those who chose to defend mafia bosses. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  They were on their second cup of coffee before their meals arrived. Abby’s teasing about his large appetite had stung a bit, but he knew that it was better to eat when you had the chance. If they ended up dodging more gunfire there wouldn’t be time.

  Abby didn’t reach for her silverware, obviously waiting for him to pray. He took her hand and bowed his head. “Lord, we offer our thanks for the meal You’ve provided for us. We ask for Your continued strength and courage as we seek to bring criminals to justice. In Jesus’s name, amen.”

  “And please keep my father safe in Your care, too. Amen,” Abby said.

  “I should have included your father. Thanks for adding him. I’m sure we’ll find him very soon.” He gently squeezed her hand before releasing it.

  “I hope so.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but at least she wasn’t crying. Last night, her tears had ripped a hole in his heart.

  If he could go back and do things over again, he wouldn’t have tracked Abby in hopes of finding her father. He couldn’t deny that he’d brought this danger upon them.

  All the more reason to dedicate himself to keeping them safe now. Unfortunately, the only way they’d ever be safe was by finding proof of Hawthorne’s guilt.

  A vicious circle, he silently admitted.

  “What’s wrong?” Abby frowned. “You look upset.”

  “Not upset, frustrated.” He shrugged and took a bite of his omelet, which the server had just delivered. “If this doesn’t work...”

  “If anyone can convince Twain to cooperate, it’s you, Wyatt.” She offered a lopsided smile. “You managed to get me over on your side, remember?”

  “Yeah and brought danger with me.” He couldn’t hide his self-disgust. “Maybe if I had gone over Hawthorne’s head instead of heading out to look for you and your father, you’d both be safe by now.”

  “That’s not true. I lost contact with my father before you arrived on the scene. I think he must have been found by one of the gunmen.” She toyed with her eggs, then met his gaze. “Let’s be honest, Wyatt. If your boss considers me and my dad as loose ends, he’ll keep sending thugs until we’re no longer a threat.”

  He nodded slowly. “You’re right. And you can add me to that list, too. In fact, Hawthorne might consider me a larger threat, mostly because he knows I can try to convince the higher-ups about his culpability in all of this.”

  “There, you see? None of this is your fault.”

  “You’re being nicer than I deserve.” His appetite had vanished, but he forced himself to keep eating. “Thank you.”

  “Hey, we’re a team, remember?” She managed a reassuring smile. “We’re in this together.”

  The way she’d turned his words back on him made him smile. Yet in that moment, he made a promise that once they’d found her father, he’d find a safe place to put them both while he went on alone to bring his boss down.

  He couldn’t stand the idea of having any more blood on his hands. Not that he was directly responsible for Jerome Gardner’s death, but he’d certainly played an unwitting role in the poor guy’s murder.

  And he would not let anything happen to Abby and Peter Miller, either.

  They lingered over their meal until eight thirty. They wouldn’t need the entire thirty minutes to get to the Dettmer office building, but he wanted to be early.

  After he’d paid for their meals, they headed outside. He took Abby’s hand, mostly because he wanted to.

  But when she shot him a curious look, he said, “It’s best if we appear to be a casual couple out for a stroll.”

  “A romantic walk through the city at eight thirty in the morning?” She arched one brow. “Not sure that’s going to fly.”

  “It will if we act like tourists, checking out the big city for the first time.”

  She laughed softly, while continuing to hold his hand. “Okay, I’m in.”

  Despite his intent to look like tourists, he set a brisk pace while constantly sweeping his gaze over the other pedestrians around them. Being out in the open after several shooting attempts made him feel vulnerable.

  It seemed like most of the foot traffic at this hour of the morning were people walking to work. Those who were dressed casually headed toward restaurants or stores, while those in business suits were no doubt en route to one of the many office buildings. Dozens streamed from various subway stops. He was familiar with them, as he’d commuted to the FBI offices using the subway, too.

  Subways had cameras, though, so he planned to avoid them. The crowds bothered him and he couldn’t help comparing the massive amount of people here to the quiet town of Green Lake. He knew the sheriff had experienced more than his share of crime, but Wyatt had to assume that Liam and Garrett preferred the rural life compared to that of a large metropolitan area.

  As they grew closer to the Dettmer office building, he slowed his pace, searching for anyone who seemed suspicious. There was no sign of the police cars that had been there the day before, although they did pass a couple of squads on their walk.

  “This area doesn’t look familiar,” Abby said in a low voice.

  “Because we’re approaching the building from the opposite direction from yesterday.” They waited to cross the street. “See the building two blocks ahead? That’s our destination.”

  “I see it.” She tightened her grip on his hand.

  They reached the skyscraper a few minutes before nine. Wyatt noticed there weren’t nearly as many people going inside the building using this side entrance, which was exactly what he’d hoped for.

  His gaze landed on a man wearing a hooded sweatshirt, hanging near the corner. He abruptly changed directions, taking Abby to the next block.

  “I saw him, too,” she whispered. “Is he a hired gun?”

  “I’m not sure. Let’s circle the next block, then head back. If he’s still there, we’ll know he’s waiting for someone.” Like the two of them, he thought grimly.

  “Okay.”

  He made sure to take a full fifteen minutes before approaching the Dettmer building. When they paused at the traffic light, he saw the hooded guy. His back was turned and he was walking away.

  “Hurry,” he whispered. When the light changed, he and Abby sprinted across the street and went straight to the side door. He opened it and they quickly disappeared inside. He pulled the door closed, then took Abby’s hand again as they approached the elevator.

  “What if he’s still out there when it’s time to leave?” Abby asked breathlessly.

  “We’ll find a different way out.” He stabbed the elevator button, shooting a quick glance over his shoulder. They were risking a lot by being here.

  He silently prayed this trip would be worth the effort. And that the hooded man wasn’t waiting for them with a gun when they were finished.

  EIGHT

  Doing her best not to show her apprehension, Abby stood calmly beside Wyatt as they took the elevator to the sixth floor. Their reflection in the shiny elevator door made her realize they were not appropriately attired for a meeting with an attorney.

  In his flannel shirt, leather jacket and scuffed jeans, Wyatt wasn’t dressed as a federal agent, which would likely raise a red flag with Kevin Twain. Her dark coat covering a sweatshirt and jeans wasn’t any better. Still, all they needed was five minutes to confirm Twain was interested in a possible deal.

  Then it would be up to Wyatt to find someone within the Chicago FBI office he could trust, to make that happen.

  The elevator opened, revealing a plush office lobby that was clearly visible behind wide glass doors. The logo of Gardner and Twain was mounted above the receptionist’s head.

  Her stomach knotted, knowing Gardner was no longer with the firm.

  Wyatt paused for a moment, looking up and down the hallway before opening the glass door. The receptionist frowned when they walked in, but she politely asked, “May I help you?”

  She hung back, letting Wyatt take the lead. He pulled out his FBI badge and held it up. “I’m Agent Kane. Please forgive my attire, I’m working undercover. I’d like to speak briefly with Attorney Twain. It’s important.”

  The receptionist considered his badge, but then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you must have an appointment to speak with our attorneys.”

  Wyatt leaned forward. “It’s critical I speak with him about Attorney Gardner’s clients, Tony and Franco Marchese. I’m concerned Gardner’s death was related to them.”

  Now the woman’s eyes widened. She waved a hand indicating they should step back, before reaching for the phone.

  Abby couldn’t hear what the receptionist said. The conversation was brief. When she replaced the receiver in its cradle, she looked up at them. “Attorney Twain will be with you shortly.”

  “Thank you.” Wyatt’s smile didn’t seem to soften the woman one iota. Instead she scowled, as if she hadn’t wanted Wyatt and Abby to be granted an unscheduled meeting with Twain. Maybe they were putting a wrench in the woman’s tight schedule.

  Regardless, Abby was thrilled they’d gotten this far. She and Wyatt sat together on a leather sofa that was nicer than anything she’d ever owned in her entire life.

  Being a criminal defense attorney must pay well.

  Attorney Kevin Twain didn’t make them wait long. A minute later, a grim bald man who appeared to be in his sixties approached. He didn’t try to hide his annoyance at the way they’d shown up without an appointment.

  “Yes.” Wyatt stood. “And this is my colleague, Abby. We appreciate you giving us a moment of your time.”

 

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