No words…just glares.

Nick sat in the chair opposite the sofa, his coffee in his hands, still angry that Blaise would think the worst of him. Blaise sat on the sofa, his anger having morphed into an expression of confusion as he darted glances at Nick.

Bayley walked back into the room five minutes later, her hair still wet but combed away from her make-up free face, and wearing pink yoga pants paired with a slouchy sweatshirt, sporting a faded lion’s face on the front. She halted suddenly as she observed the two men filling the room with their silent presence, before settling her gaze on Blaise. “Well, I see a few minutes of calm hasn’t made you more agreeable!”

She turned toward the kitchen counter where a cup of creamy coffee sat waiting for her. Unable to stifle a grin at the way Nick prepared her coffee just the way she asked, she carefully carried the hot cup over to the coffee table and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. Twisting her body so she faced the two men, she tucked one leg underneath her bum and took a sip of coffee. Closing her eyes, she purred as the sweet liquid slid over her tastebuds.

Nick’s attention was focused on her lips as the sound of appreciation escaped, when a loud meow interrupted his scrutiny. His gaze dropped to Bayley’s feet, where a cat circled her legs. Eyes wide, he stared at the creature, unused to being in close proximity to a cat.

“So…where shall we begin?” she quipped, drawing both men’s attention to her. Looking at Blaise, she continued, “Shall I start with how I just met Nick the other evening? Or maybe how I’ve now become involved as a possible witness to a kidnapping?” She threw her hand up as Blaise startled at her words. “Oh, no buddy, you just listen right now.”

After another sip, she said, “Of course, I had no idea I was a witness to anything. After all, one doesn’t walk around expecting a kidnapping…or a bank robbery, for that matter. These things just occur and if you happen to be in the vicinity, well then, there you are.” Shrugging slightly as she took another sip of coffee, she added, “And in this case, I had no idea about any of that going on until Nick came into the store looking for me.” Her gaze landed back on Blaise as she said, “We had met the night before at the club, but only casually. I interrupted him as he was on a stakeout and I was there doing research for another book.”

Blaise’s narrowed eyes widened with each word from Bayley’s mouth. “Kidnapping? What the hell, Bayley?” Turning toward Nick, he said, “Please make some sense out of all of this.”

Nick growled, “You done with thinking I’m here debauching your sister—”

“Debauching? Oh, my God, Nick, that’s hilarious!” Bayley hooted, drawing dark looks from both men. “No one says debauching anymore, but I love that word. I must work it into the book I’m writing.” She leaned over and grabbed a pad of paper lying on the coffee table and began to scribble.

“You know what I mean,” Nick argued, his gaze piercing Blaise.

Throwing his hands up in front of him, Blaise admitted, “I’m sorry, Nick. I know what kind of man you are, but hell, I walk up to my sister’s apartment to find you and her all tangled up together and her half-naked—”

“Earlier you said ‘half-dressed,’” Bayley complained. “So, which is it? Half-naked or half-dressed? I, personally, think they have two very different connotations. But then, I can see where you wouldn’t make that distinction.”

Nick leaned back against the chair, his breath leaving him in a rush. His only consolation was seeing the same exasperated expression on Blaise’s face. Calm, quiet, intuitive Blaise. How the hell can they be related? Shifting his eyes between the Nordic blondes in front of him, he admitted, so alike in appearance, it was easy to see the familial resemblance.

“Sis, I love you, but if you don’t sit there and keep quiet just long enough for Nick to tell me what the hell is going on, I’ll tape your mouth shut!”

At that, Bayley blinked, pursing her lips together tightly. Huffing, she leaned back, cradling her cup of coffee mumbling, “This is my house, you know.”

Blaise turned his attention back to Nick and, with raised eyebrows, quietly waited for him to speak.

Nodding, Nick explained, “I met your sister at a club where I was on stakeout for another assignment. She was taking a lot of pictures for her book research. The next day, I was re-assigned to the kidnapping case, which I’m sure you’ve heard of, and realized Bayley may have inadvertently taken pictures we would need to see. I found her and she voluntarily gave me her phone for a day.”

The room was silent for a moment and she realized both men were staring at her. Lifting her shoulders while giving a little sniff, she said, “Well, that’s fine if you just want the bare-bones story, with no embellishments.”

“Bare-bones is good by me,” Blaise groused, still looking at Nick. “So, this morning?”

“Bayley left a message on my work phone last night and I just heard it this morning. She was accosted as she left the store—”

At the word accosted, Blaise leaned forward, his brow drawn down, and asked, “Bayley? Why the hell didn’t you call me? Fuckin’ hell, sis! What’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong with me?” she repeated, meeting her brother’s glare with one of her own. “There is nothing wrong with me! I came home quickly, locked the door, and called Nick. I was safe here. And there was no way I was going to call you, considering you and your wife have a new baby!”

Standing suddenly, Blaise said, “That’s it. Pack a bag. You’re coming home with me.”

Hopping to her feet, she planted her hands on her hip. “I most certainly am not going home with you! I have a life to live, a business to run, and you, brother dearest, have a family that does not need to be dragged into this. It was scary last night, I’ll admit it. But today it doesn’t feel like that big of a deal.”

“It doesn’t feel like that big of a deal?” he asked incredulously. Taking a deep breath, he looked her straight in the eyes. “Okay. I’ll make you deal. I’ll go to Jack and the Saints will provide your protection—”

“Nope, nope, nope,” she argued, “I’m not staying with any of them either.”

Nick lifted his hand, rubbing the back of his neck as he listened to the two siblings argue back and forth. Speaking before he had time to talk himself out of his offer, he proposed, “Let’s compromise.” Gaining the attention of Bayley and Blaise, he said, “I need to interview Bayley and you need to stay for it, Blaise. Then I’ll take Bayley to the office with me, because I need her to see if we can identify the man from last night. Blaise, you talk to Jack and arrange to have a Saint be with her when she is not with me.”

Bayley’s lips curved slightly at the thought of spending more time with Nick and, for all her bravado, she had to admit the idea that the Saints were keeping an eye on her and her shop was comforting. Nodding, she agreed, “I can live with that.”

Blaise nodded as well. “Okay. Let’s hear about last night and then I’ll call Jack.”

“Well, my, my,” she cooed as they sat back down. “All friends again?” Looking at Nick, she said, “To explain about last night, I had my writers’ group. It’s a group of published and aspiring writers who meet at the shop and we critique each other’s work as well as spend time writing.” Pushing her drying hair back from her face, she continued, “We finished about nine o’clock. I locked up after them and spent a few minutes making sure the area was clean for business opening the next day…uh, well now I guess it’s already today. I stepped out onto the sidewalk and locked the door from the outside.” Cutting her eyes toward Blaise, she added, “And I checked to make sure the door was locked, just like you are always telling me. Then I was walking to Prissy, which was parked underneath a streetlight as always.”

Seeing the men still staring intently, she said, “I heard footsteps approaching quickly and turned. A man got right up into my space and grabbed my arms, demanding I give ‘it’ to him. Not knowing what ‘it’ was supposed to be, I asked. That, apparently, did not make him very happy.”

Nick took careful notes as his jaw ticked in anger.

“Jesus, Bayley,” Blaise moaned.

Continuing, she said, “He was wearing a dark trench coat and a fedora over greasy, slicked-back hair, which I found to be completely unimaginative. You know, like he watched The Godfather movie, because he probably never read the book. I know I shouldn’t make judgements, but he didn’t look like he spends his downtime reading. Anyway, he looked like he watched the movie and dressed like the mafia-muscle that Michael Corleone had in the second movie. Only not as big…that guy was kinda thick, but the guy last night was leaner.”

Nick’s pen halted as he looked up. Over the years, he prided his perfect FBI interview face—non-expressive, almost blank, encouraging witnesses to talk while not indicating that he agreed or disagreed with them. At that moment, he realized the FBI face was gone, obliterated by Bayley’s rambling descriptions. Looking at Blaise’s face, he knew it his own mirrored as he observed the open mouth, wide-eyed expression.

“Do you have any idea how much danger you were in?” Blaise asked, his voice now soft with an undercurrent of fury.

Heaving a sigh, Bayley shook her head. “I’m not stupid, Blaise. Yes, I was scared. Terrified, not knowing what the man wanted or what he would do. Without a cell phone, I felt vulnerable, but thank God, the man ran away when one of my writing group members came back to get something he left inside the shop.” She twisted her almost-dry hair into a sloppy bun and grabbed a pencil sitting on the coffee table, tucking it amongst the tendrils, holding them mostly in place. “I had Bruce check out the area and he walked me to my car. I made sure he got into his and we drove away at the same time. I watched in my rear-view mirror and was not followed. I locked my doors the instant I got inside the apartment and called Nick with grandma’s old phone—which, I might add, you thought I was silly to keep and pay for a land-line.”

Seeing Blaise about to protest once more, she leaned over, placing her hand gently on his leg. “I promise, I would have called you if I felt as though I was still in danger. But I felt safe, called Nick and knew he would get to me today.” Grinning, she said, “I underestimated how quickly he would come, hence I was still in the shower. When you walked in, I had just opened the door, after seeing who it was, and was showing him the bruises on my arm. Period. End of story.” She leaned back against the sofa cushions, a satisfied expression on her face as she sipped more of her coffee.

The silence that followed sounded unusual to Nick, considering that the loud voices ever since Blaise had appeared in her apartment had barely stopped. He looked back down at the notes he had taken, making sure to have her detailed description. “Anything else about the man last night? His voice?”

“Yes!” Bayley admitted, slapping her forehead with her palm. “He smelled like old cigarettes and his breath was soured from years of smoking and his teeth were stained and yellow. His voice was husky and low.” Her nose scrunched as she thought and she added, “If it was not my imagination, I swear there was a Slavic accent.”

Nodding, Nick jotted the last information down before scrubbing his hand over his face. Looking up, he grimaced as he said, “I’m so sorry this happened to you and because I had your phone, you were in more danger last night. I won’t make an error like that again.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled her phone out, but added his personal number before handing it to her. “It’s charged and ready to go. I’ve added my office and personal numbers to your contacts. I did not delete any photos, but we have copies of them.”

“Did you find anything?” she asked, leaning forward in anticipation.

Dragging his gaze from her blue eyes and partially opened, pink-tinged lips, he answered, “Yes, you had a few shots of Amy Willis. We do not have a definitive identity of anyone with her.”

Leaning back sharply, the breath left her lungs in a whoosh.

“I’m calling Jack,” Blaise said, standing as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “You want in on this?” he asked Nick.

“You know I can’t right now,” Nick said. “The Governor hasn’t called for assistance from the Saints and I can’t discuss this anymore with you than I already have.”

“Got it, but I’m telling you the damn rules’ll kill you,” Blaise said, stepping into Bayley’s kitchen.

Watching Blaise pace while talking on the phone as Bayley walked into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee, Nick fought the urge to pull her into his arms to make sure she was safe. The Bureau’s rules are already hampering me. And in ways I never imagined.