Page 11 of Seal of Honor
Now he was gone.
Her smile faded, but she wouldn’t let the surge of stomach-churning fear get to her again, or else she’d spend the next several hours hung over a toilet like she had when she realized she’d witnessed his kidnapping.
God, that short call might be the last time she ever talked to him. He was the only family she had left, and without him, she’d truly be alone in the world. The thought sent a shudder of cold dread through her even though, in reality, she’d always kind of been alone in the world. Her parents had died when she was barely a teenager and Bryson had already been off living his life, making his millions. He’d hired nannies and tutors, sent her to the best boarding schools, and made sure she had everything she could possibly want...
But none of those things replaced a family. None of them replaced him.
Now he was gone.
Maybe forever.
No.
No, she refused to think that.
She would find Bryson. And maybe they could start fresh, without the dark cloud of old resentments and misunderstandings marring their relationship. Maybe they could become a real family again, just like when their parents were still alive.
Yes, it was a lot to hope for, but she was nothing if not stubbornly optimistic.
But where to start?
Audrey drifted over to the window that took up one whole wall of the living room and stepped out onto the balcony. So many buildings, people, and parks in this quiet neighborhood alone. She had no idea where or even how to start looking. Chloe, the Wicked Sister-in-Law of the West Coast, had been next-to-no help.
“Don’t get involved,” Chloe had said. They simply had to do what the kidnappers wanted. Pay a ransom, get Bryson back. No police involvement. “Everything will be all right,” she had said. “Trust me.”
Uh-huh. Audrey would trust her the day Chloe admitted her boobs, butt, and the age on her ID were all fake. The only thing that woman had ever done right in her miserable life was give Bryson two sweet, adorable sons.
Audrey had ignored Chloe and called the FBI, who hadn’t seemed all that interested, but said they would “look into it.” Wasn’t the FBI supposed to be all about finding kidnappers? At least, they were on TV. So she tried every other alphabet soup bureaucracy she could think of, and even Bryson’s insurance company, in hopes someone could do something. But everyone said it was someone else’s jurisdiction, except the insurance company, which was more worried about their bottom line than her brother’s wellbeing. As soon as she hung up with them, she called her manager, canceled her show, and started packing her bags. If nobody was willing to help, she’d just find Brys herself.
Somehow.
God, now that she was here, she realized how hopeless and foolish it was. What the hell could she do to find him?
On the street below, a man with a cane caught her eye as he climbed out of a dented blue 4Runner parked at the curb. He didn’t look Colombian. For one thing, he towered head and shoulders above everyone he passed. He had dark close-cropped hair and light skin and wore a simple white short-sleeved shirt over olive green cargo pants. His footwear looked an awful lot like combat boots. Even two stories up, she could feel the waves of command radiating from him.
He seemed to be looking for something.
No, not looking. Canvassing. That’s what all those cop dramas Mama used to like had called it. Canvassing the neighborhood. Er, casing? She always got those confused, but that was beside the point. He didn’t belong here and jangled all of her mental warning bells.
Did he know something about Bryson’s abduction?
If not, why else would a man like him be here?
With a hard lump of fear rising in her throat, she watched him turn the corner at the end of the street, then she looked at the 4Runner he’d abandoned. From what she could see, it appeared to have local plates, and another man sat inside. So maybe she was overreacting. Maybe they were tourists, and the man with the cane was searching for a restroom… in an upscale neighborhood like this? Okay, that didn’t make sense. But maybe they were lost and looking for their hotel. Or they?—
The man inside the vehicle lifted a set of binoculars and focused them directly at her.
Audrey ducked back into the apartment. A car door slammed shut a heartbeat later.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
She scanned the room. The apartment was too open and airy, too minimalist to offer any decent hiding place. Maybe he wouldn’t be able to get in. The security guard at the door hadn’t believed that she was Bryson Van Amee’s sister, and even though she had a key, it had taken a lot of wheedling and charm to access his apartment.
Footsteps pounded hard and fast down the hallway, and her hope plummeted. The man obviously knew tricks to get by security guards. Big surprise. Did he also know how to get inside a locked apartment?
When the knob rattled and she saw the point of a knife slip between the door and frame, she got her answer.
What had she been thinking coming here alone? Yes, she’d wanted to find her brother, but not like this. Not as a fellow captive. Bryson was always admonishing her for her recklessness. Always said that she needed to look before she leaped or else?—
