Exposure

trigger and pointed at the door.

The hatred eddied and sizzled. What would be left of Hannah’s spirit after the horror this monster had put her through? As if she hadn’t already lost enough.

“Hannah!” Rodney kicked the door. Kaycee jumped.

“Give him what he wants!” Hannah screamed. “Give him what he wants, and he’ll let me go home!”

Hood-eyed, Rodney smirked at Kaycee. Rage injected her limbs with energy. “I will, Hannah. I will.” She pressed both hands against the floor and pushed to her feet.

Rodney’s lips coiled into a smile — and Kaycee knew his promises were lies. She stared straight into his heartless eyes — and from a lifetime ago Mark’s voice echoed in her head. “Most people don’t have the courage . . .”

A strange, sudden calm radiated through Kaycee. This man had stalked her because of her columns, her vulnerability. What did he fear?

Kaycee licked her lips, her gaze still locked with his. “Hannah, just relax now, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine.”

More lies. The truth? Rodney had already killed two policemen and maybe Mrs. Foley. He’d kidnapped two people. Now she’d seen his face. So had Hannah. They could identify him. Rodney had everything to lose and nothing to gain by letting them go.

Once he got whatever it was he wanted, he’d kill them both.

FORTY-EIGHT

Nico stared at the broken hasp in disbelief. He twisted around, his gaze cutting to the stuffed animal he’d seen lying on the concrete as he pulled up.

No. No!

He folded over and grabbed the storage-door handle. Yanked it up. The door rolled open with a skreek.

Nico peered into the dimness, seeing no shapes. Nothing.

He whipped a slim flashlight from his pocket and thrust it on. Shone the beam into the unit.

Empty.

Nico spat curses. His knees turned to water, and he sat down heavily. The flashlight smacked against the concrete.

Mind reeling, he stared at the four blank walls.

Had Bear done this? Had he sent Denny and his men here for the money? If so, this was a setup. Nico’s life would end tonight with a bullet to his head.

Snatching up the flashlight, he dragged to his feet. He stumbled over to the stuffed animal lying on its face. Nico picked it up and turned it over. A teddy bear. His mouth tightened. Was this some sarcastic message from the underboss?

What else could it be?

Nico swiveled around, searching the lot for a dark figure. Who’d be the one to whack him? Denny? Dom?

No one was there.

Bear wouldn’t play games like this. If he wanted Nico whacked, the deed would be done by now. Denny or somebody would have been in that storage unit, waiting for him to roll up the door.

Nico gaped again at the bear in his hands. A sudden insane thought popped into his head. Slowly his eyes lifted to glare at Martin Giordano’s apartment.

But Giordano hadn’t known the money was here. He hadn’t known. So how could his wife?

Nico threw the bear down and strode across the concrete.

This was foolish. Desperate hope. Giordano’s wife wouldn’t be in that apartment. News reports said she was hiding somewhere tonight. The apartment wouldn’t even be cleaned up yet. And if she had taken the money, home was the last place she’d go. But pure vengeance drove Nico. He so wanted to catch her sleeping in bed, the kid too. He would strangle them both with his bare hands.

Nico passed unit eight, nine, ten, his heart picking up speed, anger drilling his spine. By unit eleven he was running.

He slid to a stop outside the apartment, rocked back on one foot, and kicked the door with all his might. Wood crunched. He kicked again. The door flew open.

Nico stormed inside.

Arms out, feeling his way in the dimness, he tore across the small living room, flashlight turned off. At the top of the hall his foot slipped. He righted himself and switched on the flashlight. Blood. Footprint.

Nico didn’t care. Rage blazed inside him, burning away all caution. He just wanted to find Martin’s wife. By some pretzel twist of fate she’d be here. She had to be.

He rounded the corner into the first bedroom and stabbed the bed with a beam of light. It was unmade and empty. He jumped across to the other side, checking the floor behind it. He looked in the closet. Nobody.

Cursing, he left the bedroom and ran to the second. He looked over every inch of it. Then the bathroom.

They were gone. With his money.

How could she have done this? How could some stupid woman outsmart him like this?

Nico drew a shaking hand across his forehead. His life was over. A bullet to the head would be merciful. Bear would wrench him limb from limb.

He stumbled from the apartment on weak legs.

Back on the pavement, he grasped his head in his hands, the flashlight hard against one temple. He couldn’t go to the warehouse empty-handed. Couldn’t go home.

Had she taken the money to the police?

That made no sense. She’d have told the police it was here. They’d inform the FBI. G-men would be swarming this place.

Nico dropped his arms to his sides and stared up the concrete at the stuffed animal.

How long ago had she been here? How much lead time did she have?

She’d have to be traveling in a large vehicle. A car could never hold all those boxes.

His blood boiled, fueled by panic. Nico closed his eyes, forcing himself to go over the names of his friends on the Atlantic City police force. Who was working nightshift? How long until he could get a license plate?

Spewing curses, Nico set off running toward the van.

FORTY-NINE

With one fluid motion Rodney slid his long-barreled gun back into his waistband.

He flipped a wall switch, and the bare bulb above their heads flushed on. Kaycee squinted in the sudden light. For a moment he surveyed her with relish, a lion considering its prey. He walked over to a dusty square table and pulled it beneath the bulb, its legs sputtering across the bare wood floor. “Get a chair.” He gestured with his chin as he pulled one up to the table for himself.

Robotlike, Kaycee obeyed. The old wooden chair was light. She slid a look toward the closed door. Hannah had quieted.