Lamont’s hound growled. It took some serious connections in high places to scare a newspaper outlet into silence.
“Any idea what kind of government badge?”
“I didn’t get close enough to see. He didn’t even stop at the reception desk on his way in - just went straight upstairs to the publisher’s office. He had that look, you know?” Louise hugged herself. “Like the kind of person you don’t argue with.”
Yeah. Lamont knew exactly that type.
“What about family? Did Ewen have any? Someone who might be looking for him?”
“His mom died a few years ago. Dad’s out of the picture. He has a sister in California, but they’re not close.” Louise’s eyes were getting suspiciously shiny. “Lamont, Ewen’s a good guy. All of his stories were focused on helping regular people. Last year, he exposed that housing fraud scheme that got those slumlords arrested. He actually cares about finding the truth.”
Lamont straightened up, his mind already cataloging everything he needed to do. Logically, he could track down Ewen’s editor. Find out which NYPD detective got the missing person’s report. Dig into what Ewen had been investigating before he left for Egypt. Figure out who the government agent was who’d put pressure on The Times. Unfortunately, all that would take time – time, Lamont wasn’t sure Ewen had.
He needed to find Ewen himself. That unsettling feeling Lamont had been carrying around for the past ten days was now a full-blown alarm screaming through his entire being. His hound was pacing, snarling, demanding they start tracking, even though Lamont had already tried that.
Find him. Find him now.
“Thanks, Louise.” Lamont pulled out his phone, making a show of checking the time. “I’ve got to run, but if you hear anything - anything at all - will you let me know?”
“Of course.” Louise grabbed a sticky note and scribbled something down, then pressed it into his palm. “That’s my personal cell. Text me so I have your number. Don’t call the main line here.”
Lamont pocketed the note. “You worried they’re monitoring calls?”
“After what happened to Ewen?” Louise’s laugh was shaky. “I’m worried about everything.”
Smart woman.
Lamont headed for the door, then paused and turned back. “One more thing. The day before Ewen left for Egypt. Did he seem scared? Nervous?”
Louise thought about it, her brow furrowing. “Not scared exactly. More like...determined? He came in really early that morning, like seven a.m. I was just starting my shift. According to Jo, who is in the office across from his, Ewen printed out a bunch of documents from his computer, stuffed them in his messenger bag, and then deleted everything from his hard drive.”
“He wiped his work computer? Are you sure?”
“Completely. Jo saw him doing it. Ewen told Jo he was clearing out old files, but...” Louise shrugged. “It seemed like more than that.”
Clearly, Ewen had known he was walking into danger. He’d known enough to cover his tracks, to hide his research, to make sure nobody could trace what he was investigating through hiswork computer. But he’d still gone to Egypt, regardless of any risk, and it had gotten him disappeared.
A difficult situation, but not impossible, Lamont thought as he left the office. He needed a coffee, then a place to zap back to Egypt before he got in touch with someone who could help. After what Coda had put him and his pack mates through in Tuscany, he owed Lamont a favor, and Lamont was cashing it in.
Chapter Two
The basement stank. Ewen could definitely scent mold, a hint of old blood, and yeah… He sniffed.I’m not smelling so good now either. There was something else in the air - something that reminded Ewen of rotting vegetation, but as there wasn’t even a plant to be seen, he had no idea what that smell might be, or where it came from.
Keeping track of time wasn’t easy either. The only light came from a bare bulb dangling from a wooden ceiling. No windows. No other forms of light. Clearly, his captors weren’t worried about the electricity bill as no one turned the light off. Ewen recognized the ploy for what it was - keep a captive guessing, upset his biological clock. It ruined sleep patterns and shattered nerves. Even his “bathroom breaks” were irregular - as far as Ewen could tell.But, he reasoned,at least I get them, otherwise the stench around here would be a lot worse.
How many days had he been held? Ewen had lost count, so he focused on what he did know. His wrists burned where the zip ties cut into skin. His captors had upgraded from rope bindings after his first escape attempt. Well, “attempt” was generous. Ewen had managed to loosen the knots before one of his captors - the shorter one with the scar through his eyebrow - had walked in and backhanded him hard enough to split his lip.
That was yesterday. Possibly. Probably.
Ewen shifted in the metal chair, trying to find a position that didn’t make his spine scream. The chair was bolted to the concrete floor because, apparently, his kidnappers believed in thorough preparation. They got points for professionalism, he supposed. Negative points for the whole kidnapping-and-torture thing, though.
His phone was long gone. So were his glasses. He was lucky that he didn’t actually need prescription glasses – he just liked the thick frames he favored and felt more people took him seriously that way. It was also fortunate that his messenger bag with all his printed research about the defense contracts and the shell companies funneling money to gods knows where, had been stashed the moment he knew he was being followed. He’d been so careful - wiping his work computer, paying cash for the Egypt trip, and using a burner email to set up the meeting with his source.
And then Lamont, of all people, had walked into Pier888. Lamont, a well-respected freelance investigative journalist, whose byline Ewen had always followed both for the writing and the stunning headshot accompanying each article.Bumping into him hadn’t factored into my plans.
Ewen closed his eyes, which didn’t make much difference in the dim light. He could still see Lamont perfectly - tall enough that Ewen had to tilt his head back, shoulders broad enough to block out half the restaurant, those dark eyes that had locked onto Ewen like he was the only person in the room.
The pull had been immediate. Visceral. Like someone had reached into Ewen’s chest and tied a string directly to his heart, then yanked.