Capelli sat in the passenger seat of the unmarked police car Moreno was driving, his belly full of pure, uncut rage. Seventeen—no, eighteen minutes had passed since Vaughn had drugged Shae and pushed her into her Jeep, tossing her cell phone to the sidewalk and nearly running over Garza as he’d sped away from the scene.

A lot could happen to a person in eighteen minutes.

“A patrol unit just found Shae’s Jeep six blocks from the Food Market,” Hale said over coms from her own unmarked vehicle, and the words filtered past Capelli’s anger just enough to ground him. Facts. Facts. His brain needed facts to keep the rest of him from going ground zero. “There’s no sign of her or Vaughn anywhere nearby.”

“Let’s get a canvas going anyway, just in case somebody saw something,” came Sinclair’s gravelly voice over the line. He’d joined in on coms as soon as he’d heard that Vaughn had Shae, managing the kidnapping scene and making sure an ambo had arrived to tend to Garza’s minor injuries. “Maxwell, get someone at the precinct on the footage from security cameras in the surrounding blocks, too.”

“Copy that, Sarge,” Maxwell answered from his and Hale’s unmarked car, which was presumably not far behind Moreno and Hollister’s.

After less than a second, Sinclair came back with, “Capelli, where are we on the backup locator in McCullough’s boot?”

“It stopped moving three minutes ago, at a location in North Point just past the docks. We’re about seven minutes out.” He swallowed past his slamming heartbeat, forcing his focus over the in-dash computer in front of him. “But there’s no street address for it on the GPS grid. In fact, there aren’t any discernable roads within a five-block radius of the location. It looks like it’s just empty space.”

Which made no logical sense. Vaughn might want revenge, but even desperate, he wouldn’t risk getting caught. He wouldn’t take Shae somewhere out in the open, not even in the cover of night.

Capelli’s thoughts coiled and spun as he pictured the map, the images of the city burned into his mind’s eye that accompanied it, and wait… “This is down by the entrance to the freight tunnel system the city shut down ten years ago.”

“Those tunnels are sealed off and almost impossible to navigate unless you’ve been down there before or you have blueprints,” Hollister said from the back seat. “There are like a hundred passageways in the old system. Seems like a place Vaughn might find handy.”

“For a lot of reasons,” Capelli said, dread punching through him as the chessboard changed yet again. “The GPS in Shae’s boot won’t transmit from underground. I doubt Vaughn knows it’s there.” In fact, he’d stake his life on it. Vaughn would never lead the cops to him that closely, no matter how arrogant he was. “But it’s still good strategy. Taking her underground is a failsafe against our failsafe. No matter what, we won’t be able to see her, or to track her.”

As if on cue, the blinking red icon on the computer screen in front of him went dark. Capelli’s lungs squeezed under the force of the adrenaline that wanted to fill them, but no—no—he could see the chess board now. He had to focus on finding Shae.

Otherwise his brain would start churning up things like exactly what Vaughn might do to her once he got her all the way underground, and how many times the soulless son of a bitch might do them.

Capelli shook his head and marshaled his thoughts. “The GPS is dark,” he said. With a voice that only shook a little, he relayed the coordinates over the line. “He’s definitely got her underground, Sarge. We need to get to those tunnels.”

“Copy that. Moreno, drop some lead on it and get to the scene. Take point until I get there. Hale, you and Maxwell follow. I’ll call in a backup unit and meet you on-site. I’m out on coms until I’m en route.”

Capelli sent the coordinates from their dashboard unit to both Maxwell and Sinclair’s GPS systems, trying like hell to keep his hands on the level despite the fear in his veins and the distinct increase in pressure Moreno had just applied to the accelerator.

But his composure refused to stay locked in place. “Moreno. I…”

Shit, there were so many ways to end that sentence, and each one scared him senseless. I can’t let anything happen to Shae. I know it’s illogical and probably even downright insane, but I can’t picture anything without her.

I love her. God, I’m so in love with her.

Ironically—and somewhat thankfully—Capelli didn’t need to say anything else.

“I know.” Although Moreno’s eyes never left the windshield, he recognized beyond the shadow of a doubt that she meant every ounce of her words. “We’re going to find her, Capelli,” she said. “We’re going to find her, and she’s going to be okay. We’ll be there in less than five minutes.”

Before Capelli could respond, his cell phone buzzed from his back pocket, and what the hell? Sinclair had the radio, and the rest of the unit was on coms. Anyway, ever since Vaughn had called his cell yesterday morning, the entire RPD had known the number was compromised. Why would anyone—

Sweet Jesus.

Unknown Caller.

Capelli hit the FaceTime icon on his iPhone and braced for impact. Sure enough, Vaughn’s face appeared on the screen, backlit by the unearthly glow of overhead emergency lighting and deep, creepy shadows that made Capelli want to scream.

But he couldn’t tip his hand. He couldn’t. Vaughn already had too much leverage.

Capelli needed to take it back so he could dismantle the motherfucker.

“Vaughn.”

The laughter he got in reply was all malice. “For fuck’s sake, Wraith. For someone so touchy about names, you’d do well to remember mine. Especially since I just kidnapped your girlfriend right out from under you. Say hi, Firefighter McCullough.”

“Screw you.” Shae followed the words with a lungful of invective from just off-screen, and Capelli released a silent exhale, full of relief that she was alive and alert.

The emotion, however, died a quick death, replaced by scalpel-sharp anger as Vaughn turned the camera to Shae. A fresh, blood-crusted bruise bloomed at her temple, unmistakable fear mixing in with the strength in her stare, and Capelli’s heart folded in half at the sight of the restraints tied thickly around her wrists and ankles.

Focus. Analyze. Assess.

Capelli’s brain overrode the screaming command from his adrenal gland to stand down. “You’re not going to get away with this,” he said, scanning every millimeter of the image on the screen for something, however small, that he could use to pinpoint their location within the tunnel system.

But Vaughn swung the camera back to his own face before Capelli could capture so much as a scrap of detail. “Good Christ, all that emotion is making you the king of the 40-watt club,” he said, rolling his eyes and making a gagging noise. “I have to say, of all people to lead with their dipstick, I didn’t peg you for the type. As for me not getting away with this”—Vaughn paused to hook air quotes around the words, and truly, Capelli had never wanted to destroy anyone more in his life—“Puh-leaze. I’ve already gotten away with this. You want to know why? Because I’m fucking smarter than you, that’s why. And now you’re both going to pay for even thinking for a second that you could outsmart me.”

“Vaughn—”

“Shadow,” he spat. “I know we’ve all been to this party before, but let’s review. I’m going to drench this room and everything leading up to it in gasoline. Then I’m going to lock Shae, here, inside—sorry, not sorry—and I’m going to burn the place down. And here’s the most fun part!”

Vaughn’s features twisted into a grin that turned Capelli’s blood to ice. “Since I’m certain you’re scrambling like an idiot to try and track the signal from my phone, you, my friend, are going to need to stay on the line. Which means you are going to watch every. Fucking. Minute. Of her dying.”

Capelli froze to the passenger seat, his traitorous, bulletproof memory coughing up every gruesome crime scene image from every fire intelligence had ever worked. His throat went tight as he fought the urge to scream, and come on, come on. He needed to think—God damn it, he needed facts, data, something he could use, even if it wasn’t true.

True…true…

His strategy hit him all at once.

This whole time, Vaughn had used fear to gain leverage. It was time to turn those tables. As counter-intuitive as it was, Capelli needed to stop covering things up and tell the truth.

He needed to take the risk.

“No.”

“No?” Vaughn’s voice faltered under the weight of his surprise, and Capelli didn’t think. Just spoke.

“I didn’t stutter. I’m not watching you do anything, you little shit. I don’t need your location, because I already know it,” he said. “In less than five minutes, your not-so-secret hideout in the tunnels is going to be swarming with every cop in the city. You don’t even have time to strike a match, let alone douse anything with gasoline and watch it burn. Not if you want a goddamn prayer of getting out of there without handcuffs on.”

“You’re not smart enough to know where I am. You couldn’t possibly have tracked me,” Vaughn snapped, but oh, his eyes put his doubt and fear on full display. “You’re bluffing.”

“You think so? Try me and find out,” Capelli said.

And then he ended the call.

“Jesus Christ, that took balls,” Hollister said, checking his Glock as he rapidly geared up in the back seat. “But Vaughn’s underground, right? How the hell did he even get a signal to call you?”

Capelli’s brain threw the facts past his surging adrenaline and out of his mouth by pure default. “GPS signals operate on different wavelengths than cellular connections. Location devices cut off as soon as there’s no direct line to their satellites, but cell phones can still work just as long as the caller isn’t too far below ground.”

“Which means Vaughn can’t have gone too far into the tunnels, and we have a good chance of cornering him when he tries to bolt,” Moreno said. “Damn, Capelli, that’s brilliant.”

Capelli nodded, although his movements were shaky at best. “Odds are extremely high he took the bait and decided to run, but we’re still going to have to track him down.” If Vaughn got away, he and Shae wouldn’t be safe again, ever.

Assuming the narcissistic bastard didn’t decide to screw the odds and set fire to the place instead, and fuck. Fuck, they needed to hurry.

“Call the fire department, just in case,” Capelli said, and Maxwell’s voice filtered in over their coms.

“Forget the fire department. I just called the cavalry. Backup units, air support, patrol officers. Vaughn’s not coming out of those tunnels unless he’s in bracelets or a body bag.”

For the first time since he’d impulsively hung up on Vaughn, Capelli’s heart overrode his brain, pumping with pure rage as Moreno screeched to a stop at the path leading to the freight tunnels.

“Now we just have to find him. And Shae.”

Moreno slid out of the driver’s seat and turned toward the entrance to the tunnels, Hollister falling in behind her. “Okay, Capelli. You set up a command center here, and Hollister and I will fall in with Hale and Maxwell in two teams.”

Oh hell no. “I’m going in with you.”

“No, you’re not,” she shot back. “This is an active manhunt for a highly dangerous killer. You might be brilliant at strategy and tech. But you’re not trained for this.”

Yeah. Still no. “I do my weapons and tactical safety certifications every year, just like everyone else on the RPD’s payroll.”

“Capelli—”

“Let me put it another way,” Capelli said, not giving one shit that he was breaking about ten different safety protocols in a single breath. “You can either let me go in there with you, or you can shoot me. Because that’s the only goddamn thing that will keep me from going into those tunnels to find Shae, and we are wasting time.”

Moreno exhaled in defeat. “Fine. But you’re with me and Hollister. And for Chrissake, give me two seconds to get you in some Kevlar so Sinclair doesn’t shoot me if something happens to your crazy ass.”

True to her promise to act quickly, she had her extra vest and her backup Glock 19 out and at the ready less than a minute later, just as Maxwell and Hale pulled up beside them on the narrow access road.

“Backup units are seven minutes out,” Hale said, her Kevlar in place and her badge on display. “They’ll start an immediate search of the area aboveground, just in case Vaughn’s already out of the tunnels.”

Capelli flipped through the knowledge stuffed away in his brain, rummaging through everything he knew about the freight tunnels before shaking his head. “Unless he can run thirty miles an hour, the odds are pretty much against that.”

“Well, good,” Moreno said, slamming a fresh clip into her Glock with a smile. “Then let’s go drag his ass out.”

The five of them headed down the weed-choked gravel path leading to the tunnels, and Capelli’s pulse went full throttle at the sight of the rusted chains laying in a useless heap beside the heavy double doors, along with the narrow stone staircase leading down and out of sight.

“Our coms operate a lot like cell phones. Once we get far enough underground, they’re likely to get pretty sketchy,” he said.

Maxwell frowned but didn’t hesitate. “We’ll have to go a little old school and use hand signals as a backup.”

“Okay. Let’s see what else we’re dealing with,” Moreno whispered. She slid through the entryway with as little sound as possible, coming to a halt after they’d all made it safely down to the bottom of the stairs. “We’ve got the emergency lighting, so at least that’s something.”

“Vaughn must’ve tapped into the electric company’s servers before he grabbed Shae,” Capelli said quietly, the words making him want to spit out the nasty aftertaste they’d left behind in his mouth. But as badly as he wanted to go ripping through the tunnels, screaming his lungs out until they found her, they had to be covert if they wanted to find Vaughn, too.

Moreno exhaled, swiveling a sharp gaze over the shadow-cloaked freight tunnel, complete with all of its smaller passageways snaking off from the main track line. “Yeah, well, emergency lights or no, this place still looks like a freaking funhouse, so we’re going to have to split up. Maxwell, you and Hale take that branch on the Bravo side. Hollister, Capelli, and I will take Delta. Watch each other’s backs, and call out if you get eyes on Vaughn. Go.”

“Copy,” came the collective whisper of all three detectives. With his heart wedged in his windpipe, Capelli followed Moreno down the branch of the tunnel leading to the right, Hollister falling in at his back. The air pressed against his lungs, growing mustier with every step, and he funneled all of his mental energy into collecting the details. The ancient rail tracks laid in the rocky ground beneath his boots. The dank smell of air that had gone largely undisturbed for over a decade. The scuffle and scurry of rats scattering as they moved farther underground, and Jesus, Shae could be anywhere in this mess.

So could Vaughn.

“Hold.” Moreno’s hand lifted, her fist closed tight, and Capelli’s breath snagged at the sight of the three low-ceilinged corridors snaking off from the main tunnel.

“These look like service passageways,” he said. “Some of them might lead aboveground. If Vaughn wanted a quick getaway once he set the fire, chances are decent Shae might be in one of them.”

“Okay. We’ll each take one for a thorough sweep. Call out if you need backup.”

Moreno started down the first corridor and Hollister took the last, leaving Capelli to the one in the center. He listened carefully, although it was an absolute chore to process anything over the squall of his heartbeat.

The sensation didn’t get any more manageable when he reached a small door about halfway down the cave-like passageway. But Shae could be on the other side of the rust-covered metal, and he gripped the door handle, pushing over the threshold in one quick burst.

And saw her huddled on the ground next to a bright red can of gasoline.

“Shae,” Capelli breathed, his relief so strong, it smashed his equilibrium to pieces. Her green stare went wide and she choked out a sound—Christ, Vaughn had gagged her, too—and Capelli lowered the Glock he’d held in his clammy grip as he hit his knees beside her.

“Okay. Okay, I’ve got you, baby,” he said, curling his arms around her instinctively before realizing she’d been bleeding in the FaceTime video.

He rocked back on his heels, his brain in go-mode. “Where are you hurt?” he asked, forcing his eyes to do a visual assessment for any injuries as his hands loosened the rag tied over her mouth.

“I’m okay,” she said hoarsely, her face smudged with a layer of dirt and dust.

And blood. “You don’t look okay,” Capelli said, his molars coming together in a hard clack at the closer examination of the cut-and-bruise combo spanning from her temple up into her hairline.

“Look at you, with all the sweet talk.” The tiny smile she’d managed to work up disappeared half a breath later. “Vaughn knocked me out before he dragged me down here, probably so I wouldn’t kick his scrawny ass and run. But really, other than feeling like a bunch of squirrels are having an all-night rave in my cranial cavity, I’m fine.”

A tendril of dread and something much, much deeper uncurled in Capelli’s gut, and he sent a glance over his shoulder, toward the door. “Do you know where he went?”

“No.” Shae shook her head, then winced and added, “But you completely spooked him, and you were right. He didn’t have any time to start a fire, or to try and hurt me. He just gagged me to keep me quiet and took off as soon as you hung up on him.”

“Good. I’m glad the plan worked.” Capelli knew the words were lame, but his emotions were churning all over the place, threatening to swamp him, and he had to keep them in check. He had to get Shae out of here.

Not wanting to call out on the off-chance that Vaughn was still nearby, Capelli dug deep for an inhale and formulated an exit strategy. “First things first. Let’s get these bindings off you.”

He pulled a pen knife from the pocket of his jeans, flipping it open with a snick. Although the vicious rope burns and raw skin at Shae’s wrists tempted his fury to make another appearance, the methodical act of cutting through the rope went a long way toward getting his brain back in the vicinity of calmness.

Finally, the last strand of rope popped free and fell away to the dirty concrete floor, and he took another breath. On to step two. “We’re not too far from the exit. Follow me.”

Picturing the path he’d taken into the tunnels, Capelli easily reversed it in his mind. He grabbed the Glock with one hand and Shae’s fingers with the other, ducking past the doorframe, out into the twisty passageway that would lead them back to the main corridor.

And found himself face-to-face with Conrad Vaughn for the first time in eight long years.