Chapter 2

One Week Earlier

“Mr. Espina…” Jules’s voice cracked on the last syllable. Clearing her throat, she forced her fist to release the crumpled handful of skirt and tried again. “Mr. Espina, I need your help.”

Mateo Espina didn’t say a word. In fact, he didn’t even twitch a muscle. It was a struggle not to stare at him. He was just so different than his brother that it was hard to believe the two were related. For over three years, Jules had worked for Luis Espina, and she’d never, ever been this nervous. Luis was a chatterbox who wore a constant, beaming, contagious smile on his round face. His brother, on the other hand, was all hard lines and angles, glaring eyes, and stubble. Even the tattoos peeking from his shirt collar and rolled-up cuffs looked angry.

Jules realized she’d been silent for much too long, and she had to hide her cringe. It had been almost impossible to set up this meeting with Mr. Espina, and she was crashing and burning not even five minutes and ten words in. As she opened her mouth to say who knew what, a bored voice interrupted.

“What can I get you two?”

Although Mr. Espina ordered a beer from the server, Jules stuck to water. The meeting would be hard enough with all of her wits about her. Besides, the sad fact was that she was broke. Drinks were the last thing on her stuff-I-need-to-buy list. Lawyers were number one. Good lawyers. Miracle-working lawyers.

“I was hoping,” she said, “that you could give me a reference.”

There was a reaction to that. It wasn’t much of one—just the slightest lift of his eyebrow and twitch of a small muscle in his cheek.

“Although I wasn’t charged with anything, I lost my CPA license and all my clients when Luis was investigated.” The remembered terror and humiliation of being questioned by the FBI made her hands shake, and she clutched them together to keep them still. “I didn’t give them any information about Luis’s finances, though, even after they told me I’d be able to keep my license and my business if I did. My clients’ confidentiality is sacred.”

Instead of looking pleased by that, Mr. Espina’s entire face drew tight, stiffening into a hard mask. His voice was smooth, deep, and as cold as ice. “Are you threatening me, Ms. Young?”

Horror flushed through her, turning her blood cold and then hot enough to burn. “No! No, God, no! I’m not an idiot! I mean, it was probably dumb of me to work as Luis’s accountant when I knew he wasn’t great at…well, coloring inside the lines, but I’m not trying to threaten you! I just wanted…”

The sheer futility of what she was attempting flooded her, and she started to stand. “Never mind. I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I’ll figure something out.”

“Sit.” Something about his clipped tone made her obey before she realized what she was doing. “What do you want?”

“A job.” Once again, the command in his voice had her answering before she considered whether it was wise to be so blunt. “I know Luis would give me a reference and, well, new employer contact information, if he wasn’t…” She paused, trying to think of a polite term. “Dealing with more serious concerns right now.”

Those dark, dark eyes regarded her over his raised beer for a long time. Jules let him stare, determined not to break again. “You want me to hire you?” he finally asked.

“Oh, not you!” she blurted, and then cringed. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I’d be happy to work with you, of course. It’s just…I have expenses, so I need to have more than one client—unless I find a single client with extensive accounting needs. I was thinking I could work for some of Luis’s colleagues, since they’d probably not care about the whole FBI thing, as long as I know what I’m doing and can keep my mouth shut.”

Mr. Espina didn’t hurry to answer her. Instead, he eyed her for another painfully long time before finally speaking. “Anyone specific in mind?”

“The Blanchetts?” she suggested tentatively. Most of Luis’s business associates had been names on a computer screen to her. At best, she’d met a few in passing. “Maybe the Jovanovics?”

He choked—actually choked—on his beer when she said the second name. Carefully placing the bottle on the table, he sat back and closed his eyes for several seconds.

“So that’s a no on the Jovanovics?” Disappointment flooded her. They’d been her best prospect. With their hands in what seemed like every not-quite-legal pie, their empire was huge. She’d imagined that the Jovanovics needed a good accountant—and a discreet one.

“It’s a no. On the Blanchetts, too.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was quickly heading toward despair. “Is there anyone you could recommend?”

“No.”

That single bald word made Jules’s eyes burn with threatening tears. She wasn’t a crier. Even as a little girl, she’d rarely cried. It was just that Mr. Espina had been her only hope of getting the kind of job she needed to afford the kind of lawyers she needed. Her tough, sixteen-year-old brother had actually cried on the phone with her the night before—cried and begged to live with her. If Sam was breaking, God only knew how bad it was getting for him and the younger kids. This had been her one clear chance to get the money she needed to help them. Staring at Mr. Espina’s expressionless face, she felt the last of her dwindling optimism being sucked out of her, leaving Jules hopeless and planless and heartbroken.

She bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to shock herself out of self-pity. This wasn’t the end of her dream. This couldn’t be the end. She’d keep fighting for her brothers and her sister until the youngest, Dee, turned eighteen. Even if Jules was broke and lawyerless, she’d still do whatever it took to get her siblings out of that house.

Jules stood as well as she could on shaking legs and said, “Okay. Thank you, Mr. Espina.”

“Sit.”

This time, she managed to resist the compulsion to obey and moved until she was standing next to the table. Digging in her purse, she pulled out a crumpled ten and laid it next to her untouched water. Even though Mr. Espina hadn’t been much—or any—help, he had met with her. Also, he hadn’t killed her. The least she could do was buy his beer.

“Thank you for your help, but I need to go now.” She tried and failed to force a smile. “Job hunting to do.” She turned to leave.

“Ms. Young.” Automatic courtesy made her stop and look over her shoulder. “No matter what lawyer you hire, you will never get legal custody of your brothers and sister.”

Her entire body jerked as if he’d stabbed her. It wasn’t only the shock of realizing that Mr. Espina—a stranger, and a terrifying one at that—was aware of her family’s situation. She’d never allowed herself to consider that she might fail to get custody. Hearing the words out loud was more horrible than she’d ever imagined.

“How did you… What?” she wheezed, her hand pressed to her chest.

Mr. Espina gestured toward her recently vacated seat, and she managed the few steps back to the table and plopped down on the bench. Her knees had gone even more wobbly, and she knew she had to sit before she fell.

“As you said, you could’ve made it worse for my brother. I appreciate that you didn’t.”

Her stunned brain didn’t register the words for a minute. Confused, Jules stared at him. “Then why aren’t you helping me?”

“I am helping you.” He pulled out his cell phone and tapped at his screen. Even the way he did that screamed aggression. Jules’s cell chirped from her purse. Instead of checking the text, she kept her gaze fixed on Mr. Espina. “Call Dennis Lee. I just sent you his number. He’ll get you what you need to take your family…elsewhere.”

“Take?” she repeated, knowing she sounded dazed. The conversation felt surreal.

“Ms. Young.” His gaze sharpened as he leaned forward slightly. It was the most engagement he’d shown for the entire meeting, and she mimicked his posture before she realized what she was doing. “Your father’s Alzheimer’s is getting worse. Your stepmother is not a good person. Your brothers and sister are in a bad situation. You need to get them out.”

“But…” Her voice lowered until barely any sound escaped. “Kidnapping?”

“Sometimes you have to trust what you feel in your gut to be right, even if others are telling you it’s wrong.”

The idea was overwhelming, terrifying, and wonderful, all at the same time. For years, through countless frustrating, futile, expensive custody battles, Jules had followed the rules. It had gotten her nowhere. Her siblings were still stuck in hell, and Jules was broke and desperate enough to work for criminals. Maybe it was time to change the rules. Maybe, if she started playing dirty, her family could win for once.

Maybe instead of working for criminals, she should become one.

“It’d never work.” The tempting dream of just stealing her brothers and sister away crumbled. “There’d be an Amber Alert. Their pictures—my picture—would be everywhere. We wouldn’t even make it out of the state before someone would recognize us. My stepmother would paint me as a monster. No one would believe that she…” Jules couldn’t finish the thought. It was too awful. “I’d go to prison, and the kids would lose their last hope of escape.”

Mr. Espina didn’t look bothered. “I’ll have a talk with your father’s wife. After that, she won’t report the children’s disappearance.”

“Uh…what kind of talk?”

“Nothing violent.” He seemed amused by her wary tone. “I’ll just make her aware that I have information she won’t want getting out.”

Jules clenched her hands into fists. “That won’t work. She won’t care. I’ve been trying to get people to believe me for years, but Courtney has the perfect-mother act down.”

His unruffled expression did not waver. “It will work. I have video.”

“Video?” Her stomach lurched. “You can’t make that public. Sam…”

He raised a hand, and her objection trailed off. “The threat will be enough. She won’t go to the police.”

Jules studied his face as she chewed the inside of her lip. “She won’t just let them go. She’ll hire private investigators if she has to.”

“If that happens, you’ll deal with it.”

“I… Yes.” His calm certainty brought a trickle of optimism. She could deal with a PI, just one person searching for them, rather than every member of law enforcement, every concerned person who saw their pictures on TV or the Internet. Mr. Espina’s threat just made kidnapping—as crazy as it seemed—a viable possibility.

“Ms. Young.” She was jerked out of her thoughts as Mr. Espina pushed a laptop case across the table toward her. Jules’s gaze bounced from the bag to his face and back again as she tried to figure out what he was doing. “As thanks for what you did for Luis. He’s a pain in the ass, but he’s my brother, and I love him.”

“But…”

“Consider it a bonus that Luis never got around to giving you.” After dropping a few bills on the table, Mr. Espina picked up her crumpled ten and held it out to Jules. With numb fingers, she automatically accepted it. He slid from his seat and moved toward the exit. Jules stared at his back, too bewildered by the entire meeting to call after him. Instead, she watched as he walked out the door.

Refocusing on the laptop bag, she cautiously pulled it to her. It was lighter than she’d expected, and she lowered it to her lap before tugging open the heavy zipper. Inside was a bulky envelope.

Her teeth closing on the sore spot where she’d bitten the inside of her cheek earlier, Jules unfastened the clasp without taking the envelope out of the bag. The unsealed flap opened easily, and she tilted the envelope so she could see inside.

Catching a glimpse of the contents, she restrained a gasp that would’ve carried through the bar and down the street. Instead, she made a small sound, part squeak and part sigh, touching the stacks of twenty-dollar bills with a disbelieving brush of her fingers.

Her heart was racing as thoughts ran through her mind, too quickly for her to make sense of any of them. The first thing she was able to grab hold of was the idea that she’d just been given a whole lot of money—most likely dirty money. Jules thought she’d accepted her decision to dive into a life of crime, but the sight of all that cash shocked her.

I can’t keep the money, one part of her brain kept telling her. She barely knew Mr. Espina. For goodness’ sake, she still called him Mr. Espina. Who handed off stacks of cash like that to a near stranger?

Apparently, Mr. Espina did. She supposed that was one more thing she knew about Mr. Espina, then.

A hysterical giggle bubbled into her throat, threatening to escape. She swallowed, holding down the laughter that would only draw curious stares. Jules did not want any stares, curious or otherwise—not when she was toting a bag full of dirty money.

Should she keep it? Could she keep it?

For her family? Yes. Yes, she could.

Mr. Espina’s words rang in her brain, cementing her resolve. She’d wasted enough time, left her siblings in that hellhole for too long. It was time to do what she had to, no matter how badly it scared her.

She resealed the clasp and zipped the bag with hands that trembled even more than before. Jules was surprised her entire body wasn’t vibrating with nerves. Gathering the precious bag and her purse, Jules stood and hurried for the door as fast as she could without looking like she was rushing to leave the bar with a bagful of money.

Once she was in her elderly Camry with the air conditioner running, the windows up, and the doors locked, she called the number Mr. Espina had texted her. Dennis Lee. Jules knew that if she didn’t contact him immediately, she might talk herself out of it.

As the line rang, Jules tapped a still-shaking finger against the steering wheel.

“This is Dennis.”

The smooth tone took her off guard. Maybe she’d been watching too many movies, but she’d expected a “disappearance expert” to answer the phone with a barked “What?!” or even just a surly grunt. Dennis sounded like a college professor answering calls in his office.

“Hello?”

Jules jumped. “Oh. Sorry. Yes. I…um. I got your number from Mr. Espina. He thought you might be able to help me…plan a trip.” She winced. Her attempt at code made her sound like an idiot.

“Plan a trip?” Apparently, Dennis agreed with her; his words carried more than a hint of amusement. “I’m a travel agent now?”

“Well, I…” She trailed off, flustered. Did he really want her to tell him flat out what she needed? Shouldn’t they be on a secure line or something? Although Jules wasn’t positive what a secure line entailed, she was fairly sure it didn’t involve cell phones in a parking lot at five thirty in the evening. “Could we meet somewhere to talk about this?”

He was silent for a long, long time. As she waited for him to respond, she felt a trickle of sweat follow the line of her spine until it met the waistband of her skirt.

“Let’s take a walk,” he finally said, and her head fell back against the seat in relief. “Are you familiar with Collins Park?”

“Yes.” Glancing at the digital clock, she did some mental math. Taking the rush-hour traffic into account, she’d be able to make it there in about an hour.

“I’ll meet you by the dinosaurs at six.”

“Oh, but…” Her protests fell into empty air. He’d already ended the call. Jules let out a puff of breath and tossed her phone into the passenger’s seat. Reversing out of the parking spot, she set her jaw.

She was going to do this. All her efforts to follow the rules had gotten her nowhere. She’d never get legal custody, and her brothers and sister needed to get out of that house. If she had to become a kidnapper to make that happen, so be it.

This is it. Jules, former lifelong rule follower, was jumping across the line into felon-hood.

As she flew out of the parking lot, Jules was a bit disappointed that her tires didn’t squeal.