Duke parked his truck in an old abandoned parking lot three blocks from the biker chick’s apartment complex. Lucky for him, her building was on the outskirts of town, and not too many people rode the streets of Black Widow at midnight. Still, better to be cautious.

He zipped his black jacket, and cursed the stifling humidity. Wearing long sleeves in the middle of summer might cause people to stop and stare if anyone saw him. Duke clung to the trees for cover as he jogged the few blocks to the complex.

Brayden had found the addresses of all the Blue Guardian’s in Black Widow, including Jolene Missy Swan—a.k.a. JoJo. Duke nearly jumped in his seat when he saw the name of the apartments. Heritage Park. Not a gated community.

His little accomplice had gone above and beyond getting him information. The rookie had flirted with the redheaded waitress so much, he’d learned the gang was on a ride, and the dearly beloved diner owner went with them. Which meant JoJo was gone, too.

Exactly the break he needed.

He found the second building and scanned the outside doors for her apartment number. Upstairs. He took the steps two at a time, careful not to make a noise, and eased into the darkened corner next to her door. With his gloved hand, he turned the knob.

Locked.

Staying in the shadows, he pulled an old grocery store membership card from his wallet. Wedging the thin plastic between the door and the lock, he pushed down on the card, and turned the handle, shoving on the door with his shoulder. One strong thrust, and the barrier flew open.

Cheap ass locks.

Duke checked around the complex to make sure no one watched as he quickly pushed over the threshold and shut the door behind him. Pulling a flashlight out of his jacket pocket, he scanned the apartment. Tidy, minimal. A couch eased against the far wall and a coffee table sat in the middle of the room while a television stand and TV stood on the other wall. A small kitchen, clear of any clutter, only held a few dishes in the sink. All of which seemed to be clean.

He opened a door in the hallway. Linen closet. Minimal towels, minimal sheets. Everything folded to perfection. Across the hall, he opened another door. Small bathroom. Pulling the drawers open, he glanced for anything that looked familiar. Anything Annie used. Her makeup. Her toiletries.

Nothing.

No sign of anyone else living in the apartment except JoJo. Duke opened the last door down the hall. A bedroom.

In total, the hole of a home consisted of four rooms. Everything tidy and put away to precision with no sign of Annie, anywhere.

A nagging feeling overtook his stomach as his jaw twitched. There had to be more. The reflection of a doorknob bounced off his flashlight. A closet.

He stormed across the room and yanked open the door. Shinning his light over the garments, he flipped through the hangers. Nothing of Annie’s. He ran his hand over something smooth and thick in the back of the closet.

Leather.

Duke pulled the jacket out and placed it on her bed. He shined the light up the sleeve and searched for the hole.

There.

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out the little plastic bag holding the small piece of fabric that had been left at his house and placed the piece inside the hole. A match. But he’d already known that, having seen the shape of the hole at the diner.

His temples pounded, and he gritted his teeth, irritated about the things he didn’t know. His big break seeming like a big flop.

Where the hell are you, Annie?

She wasn’t there, and there was no sign she’d been there.

Carefully, he picked up the coat and placed it back in the closet, sure to move the hangers back the way they’d been. Retracing his steps to make sure nothing was out of place, he pocketed his flashlight, exited, and locked the door behind him. At a clipped pace, he ran back to his truck.

Duke jumped in his vehicle, pulled out a flask from under his seat, and stared at the address book on his dashboard. He took a quick swig. What the hell did he know?

Annie wasn’t at her mothers, and she didn’t have much money, or any other family.

She wasn’t living with JoJo, but JoJo had been in his house, getting Annie’s clothes, so that meant the biker chick probably knew where Annie was. And this woman was a Blue Guardian, a Guardian that was friends with that big blond guy from the diner and the courthouse.

He dug through his notepad and searched for Wilde’s address. He lived near Virginia Creek. Annie’s old address was near the creek.

Of course. Her old home.

The piece of shit she begged him to consider buying. He slapped his head for not thinking of the shack before.

Fucking stupid.

That’s where she was hiding, and he’d bet the big-ass blond guy knew it.

Duke cranked his ignition and set his truck in the direction of Virginia Creek. He’d go and search the old home himself. Hell, once he found her, he’d do one better, and promise to buy it for her. A little wedding present. He’d get his Annie back.

His phone buzzed in his cup holder. The station.

What the hell do they want?

“Yeah, it’s Fields.”

“Hey, Chief, it’s Opal. A couple of the officers had to go home sick tonight. Stomach flu. You think you can come in and cover their shift?”

He turned left to head back toward town versus turning right to head to the creek. Damn his campaign.

“Yeah, Opal. I’ll be there in thirty.”

He hung up the phone and placed it back in his cup holder. This was better. He couldn’t just barge in on Annie in the middle of the night. He needed a plan to win her back, and he still had some time before the town meeting. Before his speech. Plenty of time to come up with a sure-fire way to get his woman back.

His heart leapt with excitement. His little lady had been hiding in plain sight all along.

I’m coming for you, baby.