Agent to the Rescue. Lisa Childs
to see him. And they had been too preoccupied with rescuing the others to notice him watching them.
The way he was watching them now—at the small hospital near the Lake Michigan shoreline. There were so many of them: agents and state troopers and even some county deputies for added security. So he would have to be careful—because he was damn well not going to get caught.
So he would have to bide his time until the perfect opportunity presented itself. And, eventually, it would. He wasn’t going to give up; he wouldn’t stop until he had finished this.
Until he had finished her...
But now she wasn’t the only one he wanted dead. He had to kill the FBI special agent, too. He would probably even need to kill him first—since the man had assigned himself the woman’s hero.
In order for him to get to her again, the agent would probably have to be eliminated first. But the order didn’t particularly matter to him. All that mattered was that he had to make certain that both the woman and her hero died.
He watched her from the doorway. She was awake now. But she didn’t see him. Instead, she was staring down at her hand, studying the diamond on it. Either she was admiring the big square stone or she was trying to remember where the hell it had come from.
Her memory was really gone. He had spoken with the doctors, too, and had confirmed everything that Blaine Campbell had told him yesterday. Now if only Dalton could confirm what Jared Bell had told him.
If she really had been abducted by the Bride Butcher serial killer, then Dalton should turn the case over to the profiler. Jared Bell knew the case best.
But Jared Bell hadn’t caught the killer when he’d had the chance before. And he had made no promises that he would catch him now.
Dalton was the one who had made her the promises. Dalton and probably whoever had put that ring on her finger. She had been wearing a bridal gown. Was she married? Or was she only engaged? Who was the man in her life and why hadn’t he filed a missing persons report for her?
Dalton had checked, but he had found no report for anyone matching her description. Midtwenties, five foot seven or eight inches tall, red haired, breathtakingly beautiful...
If he was the man who had put the ring on her finger, he wouldn’t have just reported her missing; he would have been out looking for her—desperate to find her.
But maybe the man who had put the ring on her finger had also put her in the trunk. Dalton had a name now—for the owner of the vehicle. He also had an address. But to follow up the lead, he would have to leave her to someone else’s protection.
Blaine’s? Or Agent Bell’s? Or Trooper Littlefield’s? The guy hadn’t left his keys in his patrol car; he hadn’t done anything wrong. He deserved a chance to prove himself, but not at any risk to her...
“Do you have bad news for me?” she asked. “Is that why you’re reluctant to come into my room?”
A grin tugged at his lips. The woman kept surprising him—with her strength and with her intuitiveness. He hadn’t thought she’d even noticed him watching her. However, she apparently didn’t miss much. But her memories.
He stepped inside the hospital room and walked closer to her bed. She was sitting up, and thanks to the IV in her arm, she had more color. She looked healthier. Stronger...
“I have no news for you,” he said.
She sighed. “Well, that is bad, then.”
“How about you?” he asked. “Any memories?”
Had staring at that diamond brought anything rushing back to her? Any feeling of love for whoever had given her the engagement ring?
She shook her head and then flinched at the motion.
Concern gripped him. “Still in pain?”
“Not so much thanks to the painkillers they’ve been giving me,” she said. “It’s just a dull ache now unless I make any sharp movements.”
“You are tough,” he mused.
The doctor had said that someone had given her quite a blow—probably with a pipe or a golf club. It had lacerated her skin and fractured her skull. But the fracture had probably actually saved her life since it had relieved the pressure and released the blood of what could have been a dangerous subdural hematoma. That was why there had been so much blood. But transfusions had replaced what she’d lost. According to the doctor, she was doing extremely well.
“I am tough,” she said. “So you can tell me about this no news. What do you mean?”
Hopefully, she was tough enough to deal with the facts, because he wasn’t going to keep anything from her. There was already too much that she didn’t know—that she couldn’t remember.
So he replied, “Nobody has filed a missing persons report for anyone matching your description.”
She flinched again, but she hadn’t even moved her head. This pain was emotional. “So no one is missing me.”
“I doubt that’s the case,” he said—because he would have missed her, had he not known where she was, and he barely knew her. “I’m sure there’s another explanation.”
“Like what?” she challenged him.
And because he believed she was strong, he told her the truth. “Your groom could have been the one who put you in the trunk of that car.”
“You think I’m married?” she asked as she glanced down at that ring again.
“I don’t know.” But part of him hoped she wasn’t—the part that had his heart racing over how beautiful she was. Her red hair was so vibrant and her silvery-gray eyes so sharp with intelligence and strength.
“Because this looks like just a solitaire engagement ring,” she said. “There’s no wedding band soldered to it. So I don’t think I’m married.”
“She’s right,” a female voice agreed.
Even if Dalton hadn’t recognized the voice, he wouldn’t have been too worried about someone slipping past Security and getting to her room. He had a guard stationed near the elevators, so no one would get onto the floor without getting checked out.
The only one who was in danger from this woman was him—for disrupting her wedding the day before. He braced himself, for her understandable and justified anger, before turning toward the doorway.
Their arms wound around each other, the bride stood next to her groom. But unlike Dalton, they had changed out of their wedding clothes. Claire wore a bright blue sundress, while Ash wore jeans and a T-shirt. Of course, more than a day had passed since the ceremony.
Dalton really needed to return the damn tuxedo. And shower...
“Aren’t you two supposed to be on your honeymoon?” he asked. He hoped he hadn’t disrupted that, too.
“We’re on our way to the airport,” Ash assured him. From how tightly he held her, he looked as if he couldn’t wait to get his bride alone again. “But Claire wanted to stop by and check on you.”
“I’m fine,” he said.
She clicked her tongue against her teeth, admonishing his dismissiveness. “You were in an accident.”
“It was no accident.” The man driving the trooper’s vehicle had intended to run them off the road.
“That’s even worse,” she said.
“I’m fine,” he said again.
Color rushed to the blonde’s pale-skinned face. “Good. Now I feel a little less guilty for threatening