Page 95

She lifted her head just enough to speak. “Other than I’m your hostage? You have my program. Let me go. That way, the only thing you’re on the run for is technology theft.”And assault, kidnapping, breaking and entering.
But not murder.
Yet.
“I’m thinking you don’t want to be around me, luv. I’m hurt. Truly. We just need a—”
Nathalie’s head jerked up from her lap when Robert’s words cut off mid-sentence. He stared at his phone, his body tight as a bowstring.
That couldn’t be good.
“It seems we’ve made the news. And they know my proper name.” Robert’s features twisted into an ugly mask of anger. “No good deed goes unpunished. I should have broken that little twat’s neck.” His gaze lifted, met Nathalie’s, and she stifled a gasp at the cold, flat look in his eyes. “Unless your boyfriend figured it out.”
Robert Jones was an alias, then.
“Is Angie alive?” She had to know.
“Who the fuck cares!” Robert, or whoever he was, bellowed. His face flushed, a vein throbbing in his forehead.
Nathalie felt the first stirrings of true terror.
He leaped to his feet, grabbed the back of her chair, and dragged her to the middle of the room. Before she could process his intent, he’d yanked her arms behind her and zip-tied them. He went to the kitchen and returned with a dish towel. Taking out his knife, he sliced the fabric and tore it into strips.
No. No. No.“You don’t have—”
Robert jammed a strip between her teeth, muffling the rest of her plea. He tied it tight behind her head.
Then he disappeared upstairs. When he returned to stand in front of her, he’d donned a maroon sweatshirt and black ball cap. Mirrored sunglasses obscured his face. “I have to get rid of our transportation, it seems, and find a new one. Try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
Behind her, the back door to the kitchen clicked shut.
Nathalie tugged on her hands. Sharp plastic edges cut into the skin of her wrists but didn’t loosen. She let out a scream of frustration, muted by the cloth in her mouth.
Ryder.
He needed to see her message before her kidnapper moved her.
Or killed her.
Ryder drove side streets, through neighborhoods in Arlington, searching for a cottage with blue siding.
A foolish endeavor. The likelihood of him stumbling upon the right house in a DC suburb of roughly two hundred and thirty-five thousand people was almost nil.
Come on, Nathan.
His mobile rang moments later with a call from Lachlan. “We got an address near the Army-Navy Country Club.” He rattled off the street and house number. “We’re on our way.” Lachlan’s voice dropped in warning. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Hurry.” Ryder hung up before Lachlan could lecture him further.
It took him less than ten minutes to reach the home on a quiet dead-end street backed up to the country club. A two-story cottage with blue siding, surrounded by large bushes in the front and a tall privacy fence around the sides and back of the home.
Perfect if you didn’t want to be seen.
Angie’s car wasn’t on the street. Which meant Hadley had parked it somewhere else or gotten rid of it.
Or Ryder was too late, and they were gone.
He needed to get close enough to the house to see if Hadley and Nathalie were inside, preferably without being shot. There was no telling how the former soldier would react if surrounded with no way out.