Her green eyes stared back at him.

Nick sat in a meeting in the State Capitol District FBI building, having chosen the seat directly across from the large screen on the wall so he would have a direct view of her face. Amy Willis. Young. Red hair cut in a short style. Only eighteen years old. As much as he tried, he did not remember seeing her. What he would not admit to was that the only woman’s face he remembered was the entertaining blonde who had talked to him.

Inwardly cursing, he was stunned that he had been so distracted by a beautiful face that he did not keep his eyes peeled while on the stakeout.

“Isn’t that right?” Pause. “Nick?”

Startling, he realized all eyes were on him and Janice had asked him a question. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I explained that we were there to specifically watch for the cartel and ISIS groups. We weren’t watching for young women in a packed bar full of women. We could have seen her but it would not have registered.”

Nodding, he agreed, “The place was dark and crowded, making it almost impossible to lock in on anyone’s face. It makes the perfect place for drugs to be sold, deals to be made, any kind of connection between two people who don’t want to be noticed.” Grimacing, he added, “And, of course, for someone to be taken. Drinks are flowing, the dance floor is packed with everyone in a moving mass. Too damn easy for someone to be taken.”

Special Agent Harlan Masten rubbed his face. Nick observed the older agent, his hair still cut in the high and tight military haircut of his younger days in the Marines before joining the FBI. “This is the third missing girl, taken from a night club, in the past two months. What insight we have is that we may be dealing with human trafficking, but we’ve got little to go on.”

“Any video from the club?” Nick asked.

“Their security is shit,” Harlan stated. “We obtained and reviewed the tapes but the quality is poor and the cameras are not placed in the optimum locations to observe. The one near the front door is the best. We did get a hit on her arrival at about a quarter past ten. She came in with two other girls, but they soon lost each other in the crowd. We don’t have a definitive time of her leaving, but if she were drugged, her face would be down and, believe me, there were a ton of drunk girls staggering out by closing time.”

Nick’s gaze shifted around the table to the fellow agents assigned to the missing girls’ cases. He did not envy their assignment and regretted not being able to offer any assistance. The thought flashed through his mind that the enigmatic woman he met had been at risk for being kidnapped, just by being there. A sudden gasp escaped his lips, drawing the attention of the others. With a shake of his head, he forced his mind to the case at hand and not the woman invading his thoughts.

“We’re trying to identify some of the people at the club last night to see if anyone took pictures that might have caught something. People are always taking selfies to load onto social media at places like that.”

Selfies? Selfies! Now the blonde came slamming back to mind, but this time it was for the case currently discussed. He remembered what she had said: “I hold up my phone like I’m taking a selfie and then turn it slightly. That way I get lots of pictures all around, but no one gets creeped out.”

Looking at the others, Nick said, “I’m not sure I can find her, but I talked to a woman last night who took a lot of pictures. Let me work on it and I’ll get back with you.”

Harlan stared for a moment, his intelligent eyes piercing Nick, before he pronounced, “Nick, you’re at the end of filling in for Janice’s case and I want to reassign you now, rather than a week from now. If you’ve got anything on this case that can help, then we’re going to want you on it full time.”

“But he’s been assisting on our case for two months! He knows more about it than Lenny does. We could really use his help. We’re close, I feel it,” Janice protested, her face scrunched in frustration.

“Yes, but I’ve got other agents who can work with you. This was only ever temporary—until Lenny got back from paternity leave. Right now, we’ve got the Governor breathing down our neck telling me if we can’t find these girls, he’ll call in outsiders.”

Nick knew who the governor was referring to—Jack Bryant’s Saints. Saints Protection & Investigations. Jack, while still in the Army Special Forces, had worked with a team of highly trained members, making up a multi-task force consisting of SEALs, SF, CIA, explosive experts, and others. Finding the team worked well together Jack re-created the idea of an exclusive multi-task force once he was a civilian. He recruited from SEALs, FBI, SF, ATF, DEA, and CIA for his new team. Top of the line equipment, weapons, security systems, vehicles, and computers—everything the Saints Protection & Investigations could need was at their disposal. And as Jack liked to say, they took on the jobs nobody else wanted or could solve.

That arrogance used to piss Nick off—until he worked with them. Then he understood. The Saints managed to skirt around the bullshit that hampered the police or FBI. Nick found himself irritated and, at the same time, awed at their abilities. He had worked with the ten Saints for the past year and their tenuous relationship had grown into a friendship. Jack had offered a place on his team to Nick but so far, he had refused although, there were times when the chance to investigate, unfettered by bureaucracy, pulled at him. The temptation to forego the rules and structure with his work that he strived for and relished in his personal life was strong. He was definitely a man at odds with himself and he wasn’t sure he was ready to face that little fact just yet.

“Nick, what do you want to do? You should have some say in all this. You’ve got reports and files on our case,” Janice pressed.

As he carefully considered the situation, the reality was that any other competent agent could take up his reins easily and, a company man, Nick had always gone where assigned, so he was ready to be moved to a new case simply because his supervisor wanted it. Looked like finding the missing local girl and possibly shutting down the ring of kidnappers loomed ahead. Okay, and finding the blonde again… Perturbed that he made this personal, Nick shook his head, “Yes, sir. I’ll take the reassignment.”

Janice tossed a glare in his direction as she exited the room, Tom offering an apologetic nod as he followed her. Lifting his gaze back to Harlan after scanning the table of other agents assigned to the new case, he said, “I’ll let you know as soon as I find the woman with the pictures, sir.”

“And then he walked me to my car.”

Daphne sat on the stool behind the counter, watching and listening as Bayley walked and talked, waving her hands around as she described her experience from the previous evening. Leaning her elbows on the counter, she groaned, “You have all the luck. If I went to a place like that, I’d get stuck with an OGP instead of TDMB.”

“Huh?” Bayley asked, halting her pacing as she looked over at her friend.

“Obnoxious, Grinding, Prick instead of your guy.”

Throwing her head back in laughter, Bayley assured, “Well, I saw plenty of OGPs on the dance floor!”

The bell over Bayley’s Books sounded as their first customer of the day entered. Bayley greeted, “Good morning, Sally. Here to do some research and writing?”

The older woman smiled as she nodded, “Absolutely. Let me get my laptop set up and I’ll be over for some coffee.”

“Daphne’ll take care of you. Just let us know if you need something else.” Bayley watched with pleasure as Sally made her way over to one of the many writing areas the store offered. The old building retained much of the restored glory of its original beauty, including the brick walls and heavy wooden bookshelves. The back held a small employee workroom plus the storage room, and a set of stairs that led to Bayley’s office in a hidden loft.

The idea for her unusual business came to her when she first started writing and lived in an apartment shared with three other women. Crowded and noisy, it was never a good place to write. She discovered the bookstore three years ago when the old owner was looking to sell. Falling in love with the building, she managed to get a loan with the help of her parents. Desiring the concept of a bookstore and writing areas for authors, she created her business…and haven. She now had almost twenty authors that paid a small, monthly fee to use her facilities, which not only included the space and research materials, but was also used for author groups and author critiques to meet.

The bookstore was incredibly popular with a separate room for the children’s section, where Daphne would host weekly reading times so the moms and dads could shop or write.

Once Sally was situated, Bayley walked over with the steaming cup of coffee in her hand, setting it carefully on the table next to her. “So, what are you working on today?”

Sally pushed her glasses down slightly so she could peer over the top at Bayley. “I was going to ask you about your research last night. How was the club?”

“It was crazy-loud and crowded,” Bayley said, “but I met a man that I’m sure was a detective staking out the place!”

“Well, maybe he’s looking for whoever is snatching girls from clubs!”

Cocking her head to the side, Bayley stared at Sally. “What girls?”

“My dear, it was all over the news this morning! This makes the third woman that’s disappeared from a night club in the area. And she was with friends last night at Neon.”

At the name Neon, Bayley’s smile dropped from her face as her heart rate sped. “Neon? Neon the nightclub Neon?”

Nodding, Sally opened her laptop as she took a sip of her coffee. “Yep. You’d think in a place filled with so many people, someone would have noticed something. How could a woman be dragged out of a place with no one noticing?”

Leaving Sally in peace, she forced a smile at several more patrons in the store as she made her way back to the front counter, her heart pounding as dizziness threatened to overtake her. “Daphne,” she whispered hoarsely as she leaned close, “did you know about the girl taken from Neon last night?”

“No,” Daphne replied, eyes wide. “You know I hate listening to the news. It’s too depressing.” After a quick pause, she added, “Oh, I wonder if you could have seen something and never realized what was happening right under your nose!”

Rolling her eyes, “Thanks, Daph! That makes me feel so much better,” Bayley moved to her laptop in the area by the tall window. Googling the news, she scrolled through the reports about the latest incident. She stared at the pictures of Amy Willis. Jeez, she looks like half the women there last night. Not recognizing her, she finished reading the article before clicking over to her work-in-progress manuscript, but found her mind continually roamed to the previous evening. I wonder if TDMB was there watching out for a kidnapper? And I distracted him! Immediately contrite, she closed her laptop, knowing no other words were going to come today.

With a knock on the doorframe, which garnered the attention of the room’s occupant, Nick took a step inside. Harlan stood, shaking hands with him before motioning him to a seat. “Nick,” Harlan said, “I’m real glad you agreed to be reassigned to this case. I know it’s not easy to switch horses mid-stream.”

“When I got back from Alaska, Janice asked if I would mind assisting on the case she was heading up since she had an agent out on paternity leave. I knew my time working on her team was almost up and I’d be heading up the mid-Virginia office. Your case is in my jurisdiction and it interests me.”

“And you don’t remember seeing Amy Willis?”

Shaking his head, he admitted, “No, but I want to look at the tapes. There was a woman I talked to that was taking a ton of pictures. She said it was research for her books.” Shrugging, he added, “She may have been bullshitting me, but she did take a lot of pictures. I wanted to try and see if I can ID her and then get ahold of her phone.”

Harlan leaned back in his seat, his elbows on the arms of his chair as his hands came together, his forefingers raised against each other. He quietly studied Nick before saying, “I’ve got to tell you that there’s pressure from above and things are changing. Do you know Richard Tillman?”

Nick nodded slowly as he answered, “Yeah. Real go-getter and doesn’t mind who he steps on to get to the top.”

Harlan chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

“What’s this about?”

“Richard’s angling to get moved up to the D.C. Bureau and not just as an agent. He’s been getting political backing from state senators, and is already rubbing elbows with some bigwig D.C. politicians.”

“This got something to do with this case?”

Nodding, Harlan let out a long sigh. “I’ve only got about two more years to retire. Been a career agent. Seen a lot of hotshots come and go, but Richard unnerves me. Make no mistake, Nick. He wants results on this case and he wants them fast. He’ll be thrilled that you’re on the case and that says a lot about you. But…watch your back. He doesn’t like anyone going rogue and he’ll cut you off at the knees if you give him half-a-chance.”

“So, investigate and no cock-ups, right?”

Harlan added, “I just want to make sure you know he’ll be breathing down your neck. You’re a real by the books guy, but he doesn’t want the governor to call in the Saints. I know you’re friends with them.”

Giving a little shrug, Nick said, “I like the idea of working on this case. There’s a strange sense of responsibility, having the scene at a location near where I live. One where a kidnapping took place, so close, and I didn’t know it. I’d like to work to make that right. But Harlan? Even following the rules, I’ll use whatever means I need to so that this case can be resolved. And if the governor calls the Saints in…I’ll work with them just like before.”

Grinning, Harlan nodded, “You’ll have no problems with me, so welcome aboard, Nick. You’ll keep working on it from your local office and report in to me. I’ll send whatever you have up to Richard. And if I can keep him off your back…I will.”

“Pass the bread, please.”

The family sitting at the dining room table smiled at each other as the mother served breakfast. The two adult sons, Lazlo and Grigory, as well as their sister, Agnes, joined their parents, Milos and Chessa Gruzinsky.

“How is Portia?” Chessa asked, eyeing her eldest, Grigory.

“She’s fine, Mama,” he replied, shoveling more cheese dumplings onto his plate. “She says her father is ready to discuss the wedding now that the preliminaries are out of the way.”

Milos narrowed his eyes at his son, spitting, “He should be grateful for you to cast your eyes on his youngest. We are a family to be envied.” He pounded his fist on his chest in emphasis. Chessa placed her hand on her husband’s arm, patting it calmly.

“I think her family is more in awe of us than against us, Papa,” Grigory stated calmly, looking up from his plate at his parents. “She’ll be fine once we’re married. I have no doubt of her complacency.”

“Well, we won’t talk of family business when she joins us for meals,” Chessa declared.

Grigory’s fork halted on its path to his mouth. “Mama,” he spoke, hesitation in his voice as his eyes darted toward his brother. “My bride and I will not be eating here every morning as we are now.”

“Bah,” Chessa spat, waving her hands dismissively. “My children will always be at my table.”

No rebuttal came and the only sound for a few minutes was the clattering of cutlery as they continued to eat. Agnes sat quietly observing, as she did every morning, her eyes darting between her parents and brothers.

Setting his fork down, Milos looked at his youngest son, lifting his eyebrows in question. “So, Lazlo, I noticed our new addition this morning. Did you find anything else last night?”

“There was a woman, a blonde, taking photos. I followed her, so I know where she lives.”

“And?” Milos prompted, impatience in his voice.

“Why follow her? Surely other people were taking photos too,” Grigory asked, still chewing as he reached for more porridge.

“She was not drunk…not participating. The others were too busy drinking or dancing to notice. But this girl,” Lazlo replied, “her eyes were sharp. And then she was talking to a man at the bar…he had to be a Fed or something. The man just had a look about him…didn’t trust his eyes.”

Lips pinched, Chessa huffed. “I said last night was not good. Did I not say last night was not good?” Darting her gaze toward her husband, she repeated, “We risk it all for another red-head?”

Shrugging, Milos sipped his dark, thick coffee. “You know the demand. We supply.”

Slapping her hand down on the table, Chessa barked, “You don’t lecture me on our business. Remember who my family is.” Jabbing a finger at her chest, she claimed, “I’m the one who checks to make sure our girls are clean. I’m the one to organize their schedules. I’m the one who keeps an eye on them.”

Patting her hand, Milos turned his fond gaze on his indignant wife. “Yes, yes, my zhena. You hold us all together.”

Calming, she looked at her boys, all ignoring her tirade as they continued to eat. Picking up a platter, she stood, dishing out more food onto Grigory’s plate. “Eat, eat. I’ll not have it go to waste.”

Milos lifted his gaze to Lazlo, catching his son’s eyes. “I’ll send Johan to the girl. See what she knows—”

“No!” Lazlo answered loudly, then softened his voice. “I’ll check on her. I can find out what she knows.”

Chessa’s sharp eyes landed on her youngest son. She cocked her head to the side as she peered at Lazlo. “You have some interest in the girl?”

“No,” Lazlo protested. “She caught my eye and I’ve already followed her. She went home alone. I want to be the one to see what she knows. Johan has a…heavy hand. This girl needs to be handled delicately.” Hearing Grigory snort, he glared at his brother.

“Johan can handle the job,” Milos stated, drawing a frown from Lazlo. “I’ve already talked to Gavrill. They are sending him now that he is back in the country.”

“I can do more than just snatch the girls,” Lazlo protested.

Milos interrupted, his voice hard, “Let Johan do this. You need to keep your face from being recognized. She may have seen you last night, as it is.”

The family stopped eating as they stared at their father. “Our family business may be small, but it is part of a much bigger organization. We need to proceed carefully. Unwarranted risks are foolish.”

Lazlo said nothing, hiding his emotion as he stood taking his now-empty plate into the kitchen.

“And what if the girl suspects something? What if she already suspects?” Chessa protested.

“Bah,” Milos dismissed. “She is a girl. A stupid girl hanging out at a nightclub. What could she possibly know?”

Agnes hid her smile as she sipped her coffee. She had plans that went far beyond just marrying someone her parents picked out for her and doing nothing more than having more sons for the family business. She planned on gaining control of her destiny and had no problem working for it. Glancing at her brothers, she recognized their weakness…the same weakness her relatives in Norfolk had—they stuck to the old ways. Lucky for her she did not have that same problem.