Chapter One
6am Saturday - Sydney, Australia
“Fuck. This guy has a serious hard-on for our girl.”
Stone grunted in acknowledgement and glowered at the four walls boxing them in. Every square inch—including the ceiling—was covered with photos of Sophie Collins.
She was a good-looking woman—hell, she was hot—and you couldn’t hold it against a man for admiring the sexy songstress, but these pictures made Stone’s gut churn and his blood boil.
This went beyond normal admiration. It wasn’t the work of an overzealous fan either. What was spread out in front of them took this case from fanatical follower to obsessed stalker in the blink of an eye.
Something familiar snagged his gaze and he leaned in closer for a better look. Recognition slammed into him. Sophie’s bed. “Holy shit. He’s got a feed into her house.”
“What?” Ford Moreland charged over, shouldering Stone out of the way and bending to study the picture he pointed at. “Get someone in her fucking house right now, Aiden,” his boss yelled. “I want whatever link this cock has shut down.”
Stone liked working for Aiden and Ford Moreland. The brothers might be a little rough around the edges most of the time, but he liked that there was no beating around the bush. If a job needed doing it got done ASAP. Their company, Landlocked, dealt with all forms of security—high-tech systems for buildings, computer networks, etcetera—and Stone’s favorite, and area of expertise: personal protection.
Except they hadn’t done a great job of protecting Sophie Collins.
She was missing.
Eighteen hours and counting since anyone had lain eyes on her.
Chip burst through the shed door behind them, laptop in hand. “You’re not gonna like this, boss.”
Ford laughed, the sound humorless as he turned to face the other man. “Yeah, ’cause I’m liking what I’ve seen so far.” Sighing, he nodded. “Give it to me.”
“He piggy-backed our system to get a visual inside her house. He also hijacked our trackers. That’s why all the feeds went dead. I reactivated them but nothing’s pinging.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Who is this guy?” Ford growled. “I want a name and I want it now.”
Stone knew how Ford felt. He’d wanted the guy’s name a week ago when they thought they were dealing with nothing more than an overzealous fan. If the fact the owner of this property, Henry Whittaker, appeared to be a ghost hadn’t clued them in then the shed they stood in blew that notion to smithereens. They’d either underestimated this guy or he’d escalated one thousand percent in the last week.
He hated to admit it, but they’d miscalculated. They weren’t dealing with a simple fan gone rogue.
They had to get a handle on the situation. Fast.
The bastard had dodged them at every turn though. Hell, the fucker had not only gotten inside Sophie’s house on their watch, he’d stuck around long enough to make himself a meal, for Christ’s sake. Even left a plate with heating instructions—among other gifts—for Sophie, all while avoiding being caught on camera.
In the last eighteen hours, everything had gone pear-shaped. He couldn’t remember a more FUBAR job. If they didn’t find Sophie soon, he feared this guy would—if he hadn’t already—and Stone didn’t think the prick had anything pleasant planned for the pretty pop star.
The only thing they had going in their favor was Sophie had left her house alone. She appeared rushed and a little stressed but she’d definitely been by herself when Landlocked’s security cameras taped her lugging a suitcase through her front door. But with her location still unknown they couldn’t protect her and with the evidence in front of them Stone had to acknowledge she needed they protection far more than any of them had thought.
“Any intel on where she is now?” Stone asked. If anyone could track the un-trackable, it was Chip.
“I might have the answer to that.” Aiden strode through the shed door, eyes focused on the tablet in his hand. “But Ford isn’t gonna like it.”
Ford snorted. “Oh, yeah, because Ford’s in love with every fucking damn thing so far.”
Stone’s lips twitched. His boss always managed to put a smile on his face in spite of whatever shit-hole they found themselves in. Ford’s warped sense of humor had saved their sanity on more than one job over the years.
“First, this guy isn’t as smart as we think. Jack’s grabbing the genius behind the hacking now,” Aiden offered.
“For fuck’s sake,” Stone cursed. This shit just kept getting better and better. “There are two people involved?”
“Explain,” Ford growled over Stone’s words.
“Give me a sec…” Aiden tapped away.
Stone was on the verge of grabbing his boss by the throat when Aiden spoke again.
“Ah, there. Sophie Collins hopped a plane for LA. About four hours after we lost her. Here’s the part you’re really not going to like.”
Stone had had enough. “Cut the BS and spit it out!” His temples throbbed and his jaw ached from grinding his back teeth.
He hated feeling useless and right now he felt downright impotent.
They needed to find Sophie Collins now.
“According to our perp’s email he boarded the same aircraft under the name Henry Whittaker.”
“He was on her fucking plane?” Stone exploded. The pounding in his head a moment ago nothing compared to the thunder roaring through him now. How could they have screwed this situation up so badly?
“Easy there.” Ford gripped Stone’s shoulder, dug his fingers in hard, no doubt to keep him in place. Satisfied Stone wasn’t going anywhere, Ford nodded at his brother. “What else, Aiden?”
Aiden eyed Stone for a moment, one eyebrow cocked, before returning his gaze to the information in front of him. “I’m still following the trail but Sophie hired a limo to take her to The Beverly Hilton. She’s booked in for a two-week stay. Can’t find Henry Whittaker on the guest register.”
“How does this non-existent Henry Whittaker get a passport?” Ford aimed the question at Chip. “I want everything you find on this guy and I don’t care how you get the information.”
Chip nodded and began furiously tapping at the keys on his ever-present laptop.
A gangly teenager—all of sixteen, judging by the fuzz on his chin—stumbled into the shed.
Jack calmly strolled in behind him. “Got the little shit. Had to drag his ass out of bed.”
The “little shit” glanced around, eyes widening with each man his gaze landed on. His prominent Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his skinny neck as he swallowed. When he spotted the photos covering the walls, his mouth dropped open and his eyes almost bugged right out of his head. “What the…?” He spun towards the door.
“Whoa.” Jack grabbed the kid’s shirt and turned him around again. “Stay right where you are. We’re not done.”
“But…” The kid’s terrified gaze pinged around the room, not making eye contact with any of the men surrounding him.
“What’s your name?” Ford asked in a mild tone, but Stone could hear the rage vibrating in each word.
“M-mike.” The kid licked his lips. “I d-don’t know anything about t-this. I j-just did what he p-paid me for.”
Not bothering to modulate his anger the way his brother had, Aiden stepped forward, got right in the kids face and demanded, “Who and what?”
“G-g-g-george.” The kid swung a thumb over his shoulder towards the house visible through the shed door behind him. “H-he lives here.”
Aiden arched an eyebrow. “George?”
“Y-yeah.” The kid nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing several times, sweat breaking out on his forehead and upper lip.
Stone couldn’t decide if the stammering was nerves or a genuine affliction.
Not that it mattered. He didn’t care about the kid beyond what he could tell them about Sophie’s mysterious stalker. It chapped Stone’s ass to think this kid probably knew more about the guy than they did. Including what he looked like. So far they had three descriptions of Whittaker.
“How many fucking names does this prick have?” Stone barked, the question aimed at no one in particular. He could hear his frustration leaching into his voice and tried to rein in his temper but feared he was fighting a losing battle.
“I’ve got a bead on at least five…” Chip murmured as he tapped away on his laptop.
“Five?” Stone asked in disbelief.
“It’s irrelevant.” Ford turned and faced Stone head-on. “Get on the first flight to LA. Find Sophie. Bring her home. Find Henry/George/whoever-the-fuck-he-is today. If he’s touched her, he doesn’t take another breath.”
Stone’s spine snapped straight, his whole body going rigid. He didn’t think Ford meant for him to actually terminate the guy. Not really. But he completely understood the seriousness of his boss’s words.
This guy would pay for anything and everything he’d done to Sophie Collins.
And it wasn’t as though Stone couldn’t put the guy down if necessary. He’d been given kill orders before. And while he’d done his job back then, followed every order to the letter, he’d never once felt the pleasure currently flowing through his veins at the thought of taking someone out.
He’d do his job. Find this guy and take him down.
For Sophie.
“Don’t worry, boss. The fucker is going down. Hard.”
***
5pm Saturday - Sapphire Falls, USA
Sophie stared. Blinked. Stared some more. She gave her head a little shake…tipped it to the side and squinted…
Nope, nothing changed. It was still there.
“Oh my god.” The words were whispered through parched lips.
She’d somehow found herself in a real-life, living, breathing postcard.
Sapphire Falls lived up to everything she’d ever expected to find in a sleepy little small town in the middle of Nowheresville, America.
She had no idea what the population was but it appeared as though every last one of the people who called Sapphire Falls home currently wandered around the town square.
She stood on the fringes of some sort of festival. The biggest giveaway was the Ferris wheel. Sophie frowned. Unless it was a year-round thing.
Surely that big wheel and all those booths weren’t permanent fixtures. Her frown deepened as she pondered the absurdity of that thought.
It was also possible she was hallucinating the whole thing. Tired and stressed, Sophie wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover she’d lost her mind.
After a couple hours sitting on the wrong side of the car, driving on the wrong side of the road, her brain had been switched upside down, inside out and back to front. Thirsty and hungry and cramped, she’d needed to stretch her legs, find some food, and at this late hour, she should probably ask directions to the nearest hotel.
The sun dipped low in the sky and unless she found accommodations soon, she’d be sleeping in her rental. Or driving through the night.
Neither option sounded safe or remotely appealing.
First thing on her agenda should definitely be locating a hotel. She glanced up and down the road. Although judging by the size of the main street—suitably named Main Street—she wouldn’t find a hotel in Sapphire Falls.
She’d exited the highway and, as soon as she’d found a spot, parked the convertible she’d rented in between two utes—no, wait, this was America, they called them trucks here, didn’t they? Whatever. She was pretty sure her little car would fit in the back of either truck with room to spare, regardless of what they were called.
Sophie admired her sweet ride—unquestionably it had been the wrong vehicle to lease when she wanted to blend in. One more thing she’d messed up. It seemed she’d been making wrong decisions from the second she’d come home to find someone had been in her house. She sighed and muttered under her breath, “Dammit.”
“You lost, love?”
Sophie spun around. And her jaw dropped.
The man who’d spoken was as old as time and just as dirty.
He wore denim overalls with multiple streaks of grease, mud and…eeww…is that cow poo? In spite of the million or so wrinkles marring his tanned skin, his face was friendly and the smile he flashed her was bright and genuine and set his watery-blue eyes sparkling.
She found herself smiling in return. The most sincere one she’d managed in over a week. “Um, no, I’m not lost. I’m in Sapphire Falls, right?”
“That you are, missy.” He tucked his dirty, gnarled hands into the front bib of his overalls. “You here for the festival?”
“Festival?”
Chuckling, he said, “You didn’t think the square always looked like that, did you?”
She glanced around. “Ah…well no, I guess not.”
“You got family here? Can’t place the accent but it sure isn’t from around here. Don’t reckon I’ve seen anything as pretty as you in a while either.” He scratched his whiskered chin with dirt-crusted fingers. “Can’t place who you might belong to though.”
Belong to? “Ah, no, I…um…” She needed to blend in. Didn’t want anyone to know who she was or why she was here, and the more questions this stranger asked, the tighter her insides coiled. She kept her voice soft, her tone even. “I’m just passing through.”
“Well now, that’s a shame. The annual festival is a sight to see and lots of out-of-towners come in for a looky-loo.”
Sophie gazed over at the square again. It did look inviting and she did need somewhere to stay. Somewhere she could hide until she figured out how the guy following her managed to turn up every place she went. She’d flown halfway around the world, for heaven’s sake, and he’d still found her. This tiny town seemed as good as any other to stop in, even if only for one night.
She was so damn tired, the thought of stopping filled her with relief, making her dizzy.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” the old man asked.
“No, I…” She pulled her gaze from the square and returned it to his blue eyes. “Actually, is there a hotel I could check into?”
“A hotel?” He laughed, the sound deep and rattly in his chest as his large frame shook. “We don’t got no fancy hotel but we do have the Rise and Shine. It’s a bed-and-breakfast over on Fuchsia. They usually have a room but with the festival, you might be plumb outta luck.”
At this point she’d take anything. A chair in a closet sounded good. “Fuchsia? Where’s that from here?”
“You got a car?”
Sophie indicated her red sports car, drawing another crackly laugh from the old guy.
“That there’s no car. Not unless you’re talking toy cars like the ones my great grandsons push around in the dirt.” He shook his head and grinned at her. “You need to drive that itty-bitty thing down Main thataway then hang a right the first chance you get, the next cross street is Fuchsia, take another right. You’ll see the Rise and Shine on the left up a little ways. It’s right behind the grocery store there,” he tipped his head towards the building across the street from where they stood, “but with the festival, the roads are blocked this way and you have to go around.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Sophie wasn’t quite sure she understood his directions. She wasn’t the best when it came to navigating. Or determining left from right when she was driving on the correct side of the road. Put her on the other side and, well…that was how she’d ended up in Sapphire Falls, Nebraska, instead of Friend, Nebraska.
Not that she had any particular reason to go to Friend. She only needed somewhere she could stay off the grid so she could shake the man who’d followed her all the way to LA from Australia, and Friend had sounded…well, friendly—safe.
She shuddered when she recalled arriving home to find a plated meal with heating instructions in her fridge, her bed scattered with rose petals and a black negligée draped across her pillow, a handwritten note beside it.
“You sure you’re okay? I can take you over there if you want.”
Sophie snapped out of the distressing memories and forced a smile. “Oh, no. That won’t be necessary. I’ve got it.” She tried to instill as much confidence into her voice and smile as she could. But after spotting the strange man who’d been watching her for weeks in the hotel lobby in LA this morning, she was just about out of confidence.
How had he found her?
When she’d left her house and taken a taxi to Sydney airport, she’d checked several times to be certain no one followed her. She hadn’t seen him once—except in her nightmares—since she’d left home. Until this morning.
Thrown into a mad panic when faced with those ice-cold eyes again, she’d raced back to her room, grabbed her bags, checked out of the hotel and once more headed for the airport.
The woman behind the airline counter had given her a strange look when Sophie had demanded a ticket on the next plane out of LA no matter where it was going. Omaha, Nebraska, had been the destination. And Sophie had been careful to give every person who boarded the plane before her a good long look. She hadn’t recognized any of them as the man who appeared to be following her everywhere.
She had no idea who he was, only that whenever she spotted him—and she’d spotted him a lot recently—her skin crawled, a chill dropped over her and she had to fight the urge to run and hide.
“Well now, if you get stuck, just holler at the nearest person. They’ll help you out. Folks around here are a friendly bunch. No one’s a stranger for long in these parts.”
That’s what Sophie was afraid of. She needed to keep a low profile. She already stood out like a sore thumb with her sporty little car and her outfit. Everyone here wore jeans or jean shorts, t-shirts and cowboy boots. Some of the boots were scuffed, some shiny new. Her four-inch wedge heels weren’t small town at all. And the pretty little floral dress she’d picked up at LAX didn’t help. It definitely screamed city not country.
At least she hadn’t hit the charts here with much success yet. If she were back home she wouldn’t be able to stand on a public street without being recognized. Here she stood a good chance of going unnoticed completely except for the fact she wasn’t a local.
She dug deep and forced another smile. “Thanks for your help.” Giving him a little wave, she briskly walked to her car, unlocked the door and climbed inside.
All she wanted to do was lay her head on the steering wheel and cry, but no doubt her Good Samaritan would come over and offer to help again. Digging deep for the bravado she used every time she stepped out on stage in front of thousands of people, she turned the car on and pulled out into traffic. Not that one car could be considered traffic.
Driving until she reached the first right, she turned and drove until she found Fuchsia. Turning left, she drove a bit before pulling over and putting the car in park. She gave in to one of her urges, leaned forward and put her forehead against the wheel. She had a decision to make.
Continue up the road to the Rise & Shine and hope they had a room? Or fight the fatigue pulling at her, do a U-turn, get back on the highway and leave.