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Chapter 3
Lacey heaved a sigh as she threw the towel onto the edge of the tub. She hadn’t taken a real bath in ages considering all she had was a shower stall in her one-bedroom apartment. The B&B she’d found at the last minute may not have been much, but at least it was clean, had a pretty decent bed, and Wi-Fi. She could live with that.
The little B&B sat a mile east of Whiteridge, run by an elderly couple who clearly had nothing else to do since retiring. Salt of the earth people, as her mother would say. Lacey liked them immediately, even if the old woman chatted incessantly about her newest grandchild. It was kind of refreshing to see such genuine warmth in others considering she spent most of her time chasing after abusive husbands, cheating wives, or small-time criminals.
Ah, the life of a PI. What fun.
She’s almost considered a career in the police force, but that meant rules. Regulations. Sucking up to the big man in the glass office. Along with the constant threat of death hanging over her head like a dark halo every time she put on a uniform.
No thanks. Lacey didn’t fancy any of that. She needed to be free, free to turn up when she wanted to – even if that meant five am and staying until midnight – free to help whoever she chose.
And it was definitely a hell of a lot safer than being a cop.
Well, it was until a certain alpha turned up in her office.
Sam was anything but safe.
He was dangerous. And not even a bad-boy kind of dangerous. Just fucking dangerous. Being on his wrong side meant you needed to draw up your last will and testament. Maybe pick out your coffin and a few flowers.
At least you wouldn’t need to decide on having an open casket or not.
He’d make that choice for you.
Closed. Every. Single. Time.
Pulling on fresh underwear, followed by jeans and a red t-shirt that brought out the thin strands of red in her otherwise dark hair, Lacey sat on the bed and wondered what the hell she was doing there at all. She told herself it was for the money – a girl needed to eat and keep a roof over her head – but the chill in her blood told her she couldn’t lie to herself.
Sam wasn’t someone you said no to.
Besides, Lacey liked breathing. Something she wouldn’t be doing if she couldn’t find out where his niece and nephew were hiding.
According to the folks in town, no one knew any Mace or Kari. No one recognised their descriptions, nor had anyone move into town in the past few months.
The DMV records may have claimed they lived in Whiteridge, but after tracking down the address, all she’d found was a postal box service.
Worst still, the owners of the damned place were in Los Angeles visiting family. They wouldn’t be back for another two weeks. Two weeks too late.
Really, Lacey knew she should be heading onto the next town but something in her gut told her to stay. It ate away at her insides, gnawing at the bones encircling her heart.
She had to listen to it this time.
Unless she wanted what happened before to happen again.
“And I don’t,” she whispered, the ache in her tone echoing through her chest. She barely survived that night; she wouldn’t get so lucky again.
Nathan hadn’t.
A shrill ripped through the silence, making her jump. Frowning, it took a split second to identify it as the phone Sam had given to her. Pressing the answer button, she lifted it to her ear. “Yes?”
“Update.”
Stiffening at the order, Lacey pulled herself into professional mode. “No luck so far,” she admitted, hating the words coming out of her mouth. She hated disappointing clients, even surly bastards like Sam. It was a professional thing.
A string of curses blasted through her ear. “Not good enough. I expect better from you.”
Annoyance and frustration threaded through her chest at his words. “Finding two people without photos and social security numbers isn’t exactly a walk in the park, Sam. Bear with me, OK?”
“Three days, Lacey. That’s all you got.”
