FRIDAY. KYLE MARTIN’S home, Seattle, Washington.

Kyle scrubbed his hands and arms. The chemicals it took to remove the tar from the walls had his skin crawling. He couldn’t identify anything that should irritate him to this degree, and yet it was. He even used a clean sponge to go over everything from the elbows down without luck.

Maybe it wasn’t a chemical thing. It could be him. He’d always hated the smell of cigarettes and since Dad passed, it was like Kyle couldn’t get away from the smell. It was everywhere and in everything. His hair. His clothes. Even his boot leather.

He turned the faucet off and stood there, hands and arms dripping on the hardwood floor.

The silence of the house weighed on him, pressing him down until he wanted to sit on ground to try to get away from it. Living alone had never bothered him. It was the way of things for him most of the time. During the last few years it’d been a relief to have a quiet place to retreat to on his rare days or weeks off.

Right now he didn’t want to be alone or off work, no matter what his boss said. Zain thought he knew best, that Kyle needed a break, but he didn’t.

He glanced at his phone.

It was Friday.

Bethany had said she was off work this weekend.

That statement had been on repeat in his mind. Without his neat rules keeping him in check, he was struggling with the urge to call her. Text her. Pursue her.

Did he call her? Was she being serious when she offered that tidbit, or was it what he wanted to hear?

He didn’t know. It was all twisted up in his head.

It was barely past noon. Too early to call about the weekend. She’d be with patients and he didn’t want to disturb her.

What could he do to distract himself?

Kyle leaned on the counter and stared out through the window at the garage apartment. He was just about done. The tar and smell were almost gone. Once he’d knocked out the garage project, he could finish the basement. Once that was done, he’d be out of this house and this chapter would be over.

He was ready for that.

Maybe he could spend the weekend putting up the drywall in the basement while it rained if Bethany didn’t get back to him.

The peal of the doorbell started him out of his thoughts.

He flinched and stared at the door.

Did he dare answer it?

He’d had two churches come by to offer their condolences. He couldn’t grin and bear another one’s well meaning visit.

The doorbell rang again, then again.

“Kyle?” a woman called out.

“Bethany?” He frowned and strode through the house.

What the hell was she doing there?

There was something in her voice that made him dread this unexpected visit.

He opened the front door and words dried up. He registered the baby blue scrubs and midnight hair done up in a bun as her every day attire, but that wasn’t what made his stomach drop.

She wasn’t smiling. She always smiled.

He had to force himself to not reach for a weapon he wasn’t wearing to defend from a threat that wasn’t present.

Her wide, worried eyes and the deep lines on her brow and bracketing her mouth scratched out the possibility of this being a work call. Whatever had sent Bethany to his doorstep wasn’t related to Dad. Kyle had seen that look—the fear tinged gaze, the tightly clasped hands, the too pale skin—on enough clients to know it at a glance. And it didn’t belong on Bethany. It wasn’t who she was. It wasn’t right. He had to protect her.

“Beth, what’s wrong?” Kyle stepped out onto the porch and stared down the road but saw nothing unusual.

“I...um, I’m sorry.” She sucked down a deep breath.

“Hey. It’s okay.” He closed the distance between them. He’d worked on keeping the line between himself and the spirited nurse firmly in place, but she wasn’t working for him anymore. That pull he felt whenever she was around, he didn’t have to ignore it.

“Your dad just died. I shouldn’t have come here.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s okay.” He grasped her tightly clasped hands and held them between his own. They were cold to the touch, and she practically shivered despite the balmy weather they were having. “What’s wrong?”

“You...help people, don’t you?”

Shit.

It was that kind of problem.

“Kind of. Come inside?” He wiggled his fingers between hers until she held his hand. His previous rules for staying the hell away from her would have never allowed this kind of contact, but his decisions were no longer about Dad. This was about Bethany and whatever terror had sent her running for help. “Come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

Kyle led Bethany into the house. Whatever had her worried, it had to be bad. Bethany was one of those people who didn’t let anything ruffle her feathers. She kept going with her smile firmly in place. Even Dad did what she said.

“Wow.” She blinked at the inside of the house. “This is a little different.”

“You’ve never been in here before?” He glanced around the light, airy space. Of course not. That was one of the rules. If they talked, they did it in Dad’s apartment or in the driveway.

“No. It’s nice.”

Compared to his father’s tar stained walls this place would seem pretty different. He’d gone for the contemporary white and gray route since he’d always intended the place to be a flip after Dad died.

Kyle could still remember the day Bethany walked into their lives. Dad had run off another nurse the day before with his crass language. Kyle was forced to take some time off to deal with the whole mess. He’s been pretty positive the home hospice company was going to tell him they couldn’t assist them when Bethany walked in. She’d put a hand on her hip and smiled at Dad, then proceeded to tell him how things were going to go. She’d surprised both Dad and Kyle.

She took command of a situation with a smile and that little tilt of her head. She was confident and firm about her directives, and even Dad’s worst couldn’t scare her away. Kyle didn’t know how to thank her for the months of care she’d given them. It was over and above what most patients in Dad’s condition got in terms of time, and she’d been with them every step of the way. Right up until the end.

“You didn’t come to get a look at my kitchen. What’s wrong?” He pulled out a seat at the dining table situated to one side of the glass, sliding doors.

“One of my roommates is missing.” She leaned forward as though willing him to believe her.

“For how long?” Not a danger to Bethany, then. He was a little relieved that it wasn’t Bethany in danger.

“Since last night. I made a report this morning. The cops said it hasn’t been long enough, but...this isn’t like her. I don’t know what to do. I’ve gone to the hospital, I’ve checked her room, and she’s gone. I just—your dad, he said you save people. I was hoping you’d have an idea for where I could start looking. This is a bad time. I’m sorry. It was a terrible idea.”

Kyle grasped her hands before she could push to her feet. He knew her type. Bethany would power ahead, doing it all on her own, never asking for help. If she’d come here, that was all he needed to know that the situation was bad.

“Sit.” He put just enough force in his voice that it wasn’t a request.

Bethany dropped back down into her chair, fat tears brimming in her eyes. As if he didn’t have reason enough to believe her, the tears sealed the deal.

Kyle didn’t believe in love at first sight. It boiled down to attraction and chemistry. That was why he’d created the rules. He couldn’t act on baser feelings though he damn well wanted to. Granted, after a year and change he was starting to rethink his stance on instant love. Since Bethany walked into his life, he sure as hell hadn’t taken an interest in another woman. He could tell himself all he liked that until Dad passed, there was no point in getting involved with anyone, that Dad had to come first, but the truth was, Kyle had been waiting for this moment. And now it was here and Bethany needed his help.

“Start at the beginning.” He stroked her hand with his fingers.

She gulped down air and blinked, the first tears shaking loose.

Fuck.

Kyle scrambled to grab the box of tissues his boss’ wife had left in the middle of the table and rip the box open.

“Sorry. I haven’t slept much and I’ve been running around all day. This isn’t like her, and I don’t know what to do.” Bethany took a tissue and daubed her eyes.

“It’s okay. Your roommate, what’s her name?”

There went another rule. No personal questions. Bethany had offered up enough details without him asking for more.

“I live with two girls. Faith and Megan. Megan’s the one missing.”

“That’s a crowded place. When’s the last time you saw Megan?” Kyle pulled out his phone with his free hand and opened a note app. Sometimes the answers were obvious. For Bethany’s sake, he hoped this time it was.

“Last night. I got home, and she was leaving to go to a movie. She works Emergency Department, mostly weekend shifts. She likes to go see whatever movie is opening so she has something to talk about with the patients.” Bethany swiped at her eyes, drying the tears.

“Was she going with anyone? Boyfriend? Friend? Coworkers?”

“No boyfriend. If Faith or I don’t go with her, she goes alone.”

“You sure she didn’t change her mind? Go out with friends? Was she the bar type? Go home with someone?”

“Megan’s not exactly friendly. She doesn’t leave people with the best impression. I’ve never known her to go to a bar or anything. That’s just not like her. When she’s not working, she’s antisocial.”

“Okay. Did you check at work? Was she called in?”

“No. That’s where I went first when I realized she never came home.”

“You checked with your other roommate? Faith?”

“Faith was called in to work a little after Megan left. She hasn’t heard from her either.”

Kyle could see the cause for concern.

A single woman, out late was a much easier target

“Her phone is off, too.” Bethany pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. “Because we all bike a lot and I go to people’s homes, we have location sharing turned on. Just in case, you know?”

“Smart. Does it show you her last location?”

“No. It only shows where she is now. I can’t make it go back and show me where she was.”

Damn.

“What about family? Have they heard from her?”

“Megan never talks about them. I gather they had a falling out. I can’t imagine that she’d be with them.”

“No, but they might know something or it could be unrelated. How about we swing by, pay them a visit, just to make sure?” He could find out Megan’s whole life story with one call if he had to.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to do that.” Bethany sat back and blinked.

“Bethany? You’d be doing me a favor by letting me help you. What I need most right now is something to do.” He squeezed her hand a little tighter, holding onto her. He hadn’t planned on seeing her so soon after Dad’s death, but he had wanted to see her again. If only to find out if this ache in his chest was one-sided, or if she felt it, too.

“Are you sure?” The lines on her brow deepened.

“Yup.” Kyle couldn’t take anymore of this mandatory bereavement, anyway. He needed something worthwhile to do and he couldn’t think of anyone else he’d rather spend time with. “Can you find out where Megan’s family lives while I lock everything up outside?”

“Sure. Yeah.”

The apartment wasn’t going anywhere. He could save that for a project at a later date. Bethany needed help now, and Kyle needed to get away from this place.

BETHANY ROSSI SAT IN the passenger side of her Mini Cooper, dread and shame wrapped around her so tightly she could barely breathe.

This was all her fault.

She should have gone with Megan last night. She rarely asked Bethany or Faith to go, but that wasn’t the point. Bethany had known Megan was going out by herself and had chosen to stay home. Bethany was tired of Megan’s attitude, so she’d stopped making an effort. It was exhausting being the only person trying in a friendship. It didn’t change the fact that she’d failed to be there for Megan.

“Has Megan mentioned a problem patient? Anyone at work who might have given her an issue?” Kyle asked. He’d always been brooding an intense, but he seemed even bigger than normal behind the wheel of her compact car.

“No. She’s a good nurse, but she doesn’t have the best bedside manner.” Bethany swallowed and forced herself to look straight ahead.

She’d come to the Martin home several times a week for over a year, and Kyle still had the same effect as he had that first morning. Her stomach got all knotted up whenever he was around, her mouth dried up and she’d forget the promise she’d made herself to put off dating. At least Kyle wasn’t a big talker. That was her one, saving grace. If he’d chatted more, God only knew what Bethany might say. If she started talking, she might forget the rules about getting involved with families she worked for.

But she didn’t work for Kyle Martin anymore...

She swallowed and glanced at him, keeping it brief. There was something about him that overrode her good sense where he was concerned. On paper, Kyle was everything she should avoid. Lord knew she was more intimidated by Kyle’s silent presence than she had been the verbal abuse from his ailing father. It was the way Kyle cared for his dad that always won her over.

Bethany knew Mr. Martin’s type. She’d almost gotten married to a man like him. She’d walked in Kyle’s shoes, but unlike him, she’d left. She’d given up everything to get out of that relationship. Even her parents still loved her ex more than her, which was why she’d cut off all ties to them. Kyle didn’t get that choice. She could feel his invisible scars, knew there was history there, and despite the untold pain Kyle had experienced at the hands of a man like Mr. Martin, he’d chosen to care for the man until the end.

That was why she’d gone to Kyle for help.

Megan and Faith were the only family Bethany had that mattered. She’d do anything for them, dysfunctional though they maybe.

“How do you three know each other?” Kyle asked.

“Why does that matter?” She glanced at Kyle and clenched her hands tighter together.

“I’m trying to understand the situation as best I can.” He eased the car to a stop at a red light and turned to face her. “I don’t mean to pry, but sometimes I have to so we can find the asset.”

“Asset?”

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “That’s what we call the person we’re trying to find.”

“There’s terminology for this kind of thing?” She slid down further in her seat.

“We have a whole business based off it. Most of what we do isn’t in the states though.”

“What exactly is it you do?” She’d heard stories from Mr. Martin, but they never totally made sense.

“In fancy words, I work for a company that does asset retrieval. We rescue people who have been kidnapped or held against their will or with no legal right, then bring them home.”

“You save people?”

“We save people.” Kyle glanced at her and the corners of his mouth turned up.

It wasn’t a smile. She’d never call something so fleeting a smile. But it was the first expression she’d seen on him that wasn’t stony or silent. He had to stay in her intimidating man box. He fit well in that category, from his size to that stare. And yet, she couldn’t get the image out of her mind of Kyle bending over his Dad to grab that last smoldering cigarette, put it out, and pull the blankets up to keep the old man warm. A man who’d undoubtedly been a cruel parent.

“How do you even get into something like that? I went into nursing because every nurse I met seemed to have all the answers.” Bethany had wanted solutions, to fix things. She’d had a different path picked out for herself back then. She never would have seen herself working for a home hospice company.

“I knew a guy who worked for Aegis Group. They invited me on.”

Bethany was willing to bet there was more to the story than that. She knew from Mr. Martin that Kyle was a SEAL. It seemed logical that she was only seeing the tip of the iceberg.

“I don’t think I ever said thank you for dealing with my dad. I thought when they put him in hospice it was a matter of weeks or a month. No idea he’d hold on for a year.” Once more Kyle glanced at her at a red light. “I know he was a pain in the ass to deal with. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” That was Bethany’s routine answer to family members no matter the patient’s level of difficulty.

“Bullshit. You said that before. We both know my dad was a cranky, old bastard. You’re the only nurse that lasted longer than a month with him.”

Bethany opened her mouth to deny the fact, but she couldn’t. Truth was she’d stuck with Mr. Martin because no one else would and she’d learned a few things about dealing with overbearing men. He might not have deserved it, but his family—Kyle—did.

“Was he always like that?” She cringed and hoped the question wasn’t overstepping boundaries.

“He used to be worse.”

Bethany swallowed.

Worse?

“I think he was nicer with you. Mom was a nurse,” Kyle said.

“Nicer?” Bethany clamped her lips shut. Mr. Martin had a colorful vocabulary and a wide variety of names he liked to use around her. In the beginning he’d even brandished his cane at her, but toward the end even that was beyond his ability. He’d often made her visits a trial of patience, but they’d gotten on as best they could.

“Yeah.” Kyle shook his head.

“You’re glad he’s gone then?”

“Hell, yes. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I’ll live with it.” He turned the wheel, and they eased to a stop at a set of wrought-iron gates. “This should be us.”

Bethany understood that feeling. When she’d broken up with her ex and left her family to dote on him and his broken heart, she’d been happy. Even now, she missed her family, but not enough to go back.

They peered past the gates up to the property beyond. The green lawn somehow only made the two-story mansion seem larger and more expansive.

“Did your friend ever mention her family was loaded?” Kyle asked.

“No.” Bethany swallowed.

Then again, Megan wasn’t big on sharing, period. The past wasn’t something they made a point of discussing.

Kyle used the buzzer at the gate to gain entry. Whatever he said, she couldn’t hear past the pounding in her head. Kyle eased the car down the curved drive. They couldn’t go very far. Cars and a few cop cruisers were parked in the way.

“Holy shit...” Kyle shifted the Mini Cooper into park. “Megan Hunt. I should have seen that coming.”

“I missed something...” Bethany kept staring at the house.

“City Council President Elijah Hunt,” Kyle said, like that should mean something to her.

She turned and stared at him.

“It’s an election year.” Kyle grimaced.

“I still don’t understand.” She finally turned to look at Kyle.

“I can understand why your roommate might not want to have anything to do with her family.” Kyle’s gaze roved the building. He braced his hand on the back of her chair and leaned closer. “It just so happens that Elijah Hunt’s niece, Crystal Hunt, is my boss’ wife’s best friend.”

“That’s good?”

“It’s something.” Kyle’s gaze slid to her. It might be her imagination, but he seemed less cold and distant. More human. She hoped that now his father was gone he could find some happiness. “Do you want to wait here? I get the feeling it could be uncomfortable inside.”

“I’m coming.” She released the catch on her seatbelt. He was doing her a favor by helping her look, but he didn’t owe her that. She needed to know what was going on so she could focus on finding Megan.

“Okay.” Kyle got out of the car.

She inhaled deeply, her head buzzing slightly. It was as though he’d taken up all the oxygen, and now with him gone she could breathe again. She had to get over this. Kyle had never been anything except polite to her. Given his complicated relationship with his father, the coolness made sense. She was a reminder of his father. Of course he’d want her gone.

Her door opened and Kyle held out his hand.

She stared at him for a moment, the offer as unexpected as his taking control of the search.

Bethany wasn’t used to asking for help, especially from a man. But right now he was the best thing she had going for her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled and grasped his hand.

He helped her out of the car and shut her door for her.

“Beth?” Kyle squeezed her hand.

“Yeah?” She glanced up at him and swallowed. She wished things were different. That she’d met him somewhere else. Kyle was the kind of guy worth taking a chance on.

“We’re going to find her, okay?”

When he said that, she believed him. She didn’t know why, but the knots in her stomach loosened and the buzzing nerves grew quiet so she could hear herself think.

Bethany didn’t know Kyle Martin well, but she trusted him.

FRIDAY. CANDLELIGHT Theater, Seattle, Washington.

Jay Diaz pried the back door of the condemned building open. He squeezed through the narrow opening then peered out into the alley.

There wasn’t a soul out there to observe him.

Good.

He pulled the door shut, descending into darkness. The smell of damp earth and rotting wood were the most prevalent odors. Dust tickled his nose. Rodents scurried in the rafters. Other than that, there was no indication he wasn’t alone.

Perfect.

He pulled a knit mask out of his pocket and pulled it on to disguise his face.

It had taken him months to pick the perfect spot. After more than twenty years it was becoming difficult to not repeat locations. The Candlelight Theater had been on his radar since it first shut down six years ago, but up until now it wasn’t a wise venue to pursue. Potential investors. People interested in reviving the historic landmark. Too many transient or homeless squatters.

A year ago the city had begun cracking down on this part of town in an attempt to revitalize the area. By Jay’s estimation it would take several more months before those with deep pockets were drawn to the area, which meant this was his window. His perfect play time.

He jumped down off the stage, landing with a thud.

The sound echoed through the building.

He grinned and strolled down the aisle between the chairs, whistling to himself.

He’d developed a routine.  An expected line-up. But this time he was going to change it all. It was why he’d needed more time. There was the location to scout. He needed the proper prey. It was so much more than scratching an itch. This was going to be the biggest high he’d had since the beginning.

Tonight Faith and Bethany would be home. They had habits, routines he could appreciate. The funny thing was he might even miss knowing they were gone in a week or so. He’d spent so long watching them, making sure they were perfect, that he’d allowed himself to become closer to these three than any woman before them. He rarely knew the other’s names, what they did. These three were special, which meant everything had to be special.

Jay descended into the theater’s basement from the main lobby. The dampness gave the cold air a wintery bite. He shivered and kept going. The lanterns he’d left to light the way gave off just enough light to pick his way through the debris down to what would have been the boiler room in decades past. He’d picked it because of the thick walls and sturdy door.

Once more he checked over his shoulder before unlocking his sanctuary.

“Mother, I’m home.”