Tami Hoag - Heart of Gold

At the sound of that voice every muscle in her body tensed with a speed and intensity that was painful. She didn’t have to turn around to know it was the barrel of a gun she felt pressing into her spine. The metallic taste of fear washed through her mouth. The need to see her tormentor surged through her but was overridden by the feel of the pistol in her back. The sensation of a weight crushing her chest reminded her to start breathing again, though the tension in her muscles prevented much more than a shallow gasp.

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” she asked, managing nothing more than a raw whisper.

“Why, I’m an old friend of Agent Callan’s,” he said, sarcasm edging his curiously pleasant, well-modulated tone. “My name is Adam Strauss.”

SHANE SAT AT the piano, playing softly. As he had time and again in his past, he let the music sort his feelings through for him.

He loved Faith Kincaid. Damned if he hadn’t wanted to throttle her for it earlier in the day, but he was getting used to the idea now. What he wasn’t comfortable with was the plan to use her openly as bait to catch a possible killer.

It might have been a different story if they’d had a better handle on their perpetrator, but they didn’t have a clue as to who the man might be, what his connection to Gerrard was, what his background was. The guy might have been a mild-mannered former mail clerk from DataTech, or he might have been a hired gun. Whoever he was, he hadn’t taken one false step. Shane couldn’t shake the feeling that the man was a pro.

The thought of setting Faith up for the creep made his blood run cold.

But they would deal with it. The decision had been made, and he would follow orders. But he vowed he would bring Faith through this without so much as a scratch. No harm was going to come to the woman he loved-not if he had anything to say about it. And when it was over, he was going to tell her he loved her-not shout it at her, not say it as if it were a curse, but whisper it to her, kiss the words across her skin, give voice to the feelings that had invaded his previously empty soul.

He was going to make love to her until there was no doubt in her mind about his feelings for her. The future still held uncertainties, but there was one thing he was feeling more and more sure of-he wanted that future to include Faith…

“Hi, Shane.”

… and Lindy.

Shane’s fingers stilled on the keys, and he turned, his heart warming instantly at the sight of little Lindy standing beside the piano bench in her Care Bears pajamas. She had a choke hold on her doll with her right arm and was rubbing at her sleepy eyes with her other hand.

“What are you doing out of bed, honey?” he asked softly, not even trying to stop himself from reaching out to brush at the little girl’s tousled blond curls.

Without waiting for an invitation, Lindy scrambled up onto the padded bench and situated herself on Shane’s lap. “I had a bad dream about dinosaurs. Where’s my mama?”

“I don’t know.” He and Faith had gone their separate ways after dinner in a tacit agreement to cool off before they discussed the case further. “Isn’t she with Alaina and Jayne?”

Lindy shook her head, an earnest expression on her face as she stared up at him with her thumb inching toward her mouth. “Huh-uh.”

A sliver of fear skimmed his nerves, but Shane dismissed it. There was no danger. Faith wouldn’t have left the property, and the property was under surveillance.

“I want my mama ’cause I need a hug real bad,” Lindy said soberly. Her lower lip plumped out, and her brow furrowed with the threat of oncoming tears.

Letting go a little more of his reserve, Shane scooped her up in his arms and held her tight, deeply inhaling Lindy’s warm, powder-soft scent. “How about if I give you a good hug now, and then we’ll go together and find your mama?”

Lindy hooked one arm around his neck and squeezed for all she was worth. “Okie-dokie, but I still get a hug from Mama too.”

“Deal.”

Faith wasn’t in her office or her bedroom or his bedroom or the kitchen. Shane had to fight to keep the cold wave of fear from sweeping over him as he carried Lindy through the rambling old house. The place had twenty-seven rooms and four attics. Faith could be anywhere, putzing around with decorating details or hunting through old trunks left behind by long-dead residents. She liked to do that kind of thing when she was nervous or angry.

Maybe she had gone upstairs to search for that ridiculous ghost she believed so strongly in. His brain spewed out a dozen possible simple explanations for her disappearance, while the sixth sense he had relied on so many times over the years told him with ever-increasing volume that something was very wrong.

One thing was certain. When he found her, he was going to take her in his arms and not let go of her until morning. He kicked himself mentally for having been such a bastard about the case. He could understand her need to end it, to try to get back some control over her life. He could have shown her that understanding instead of snarling at her like a wounded lion. He would-just as soon as he found her.

They had been through a dozen rooms when Shane realized Lindy had fallen asleep in his arms. He gently tucked her into her bed, brushed a kiss to her cheek, and slipped back out into the hall, quietly closing the door behind him. When he turned, he was met by a grim-faced John Banks.

Immediately Shane’s pulse picked up a beat. “What is it?”

“We need to talk.”

They stepped into Faith’s office, and Banks closed the door.

“Matthews is dead,” he said in a tight voice.

The words set off an explosion of panic in Shane’s chest. He stared at his boss, praying to God he’d heard wrong. “What?”

“He’s dead. The caretaker found him. Timmons and Cerini are at the scene now. Where’s Faith?”

Dragging his hands back through his hair, Shane swore viciously. “I don’t know. I can’t find her.”

The silence that hung between the two men was as brittle as spun glass; the ringing of the telephone shattered it.

Swallowing down the knot in his throat, Shane grabbed up the receiver. “Callan.”

Everything inside him turned to ice at the sound of the voice on the other end of the line. It was cultured, sardonic, and deadly. “Shane, my old friend. Long time no see.”

“Strauss.”

Adam Strauss chuckled, a sound that managed to embody evil rather than humor. “And here I thought perhaps you had forgotten me.”

“Never.” Cradling the receiver between his shoulder and ear, Shane pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and checked the clip.

“That’s a comfort. I certainly haven’t forgotten about you, dear friend. In fact, I’m rather anxious to see you. As is Ms. Kincaid.”

Adam Strauss had Faith. In a terrible flash of insight Shane realized he had never truly known terror until this moment. Now it threatened to swallow him whole. Adam Strauss was a cold-blooded killer, a man without a soul, and he had Faith.

Questions about Faith’s status roared through his head, but Shane forced himself not to ask them. Showing an interest in her would only make her situation more tenuous… if it wasn’t too late already. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind he tried to concentrate on keeping the conversation going, all the while straining to catch background noises that could give him a clue as to where Strauss was.

“I heard you’d gone to Argentina.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Strauss said mockingly. “After everything we went through together, you didn’t really think I’d leave without saying good-bye, did you?”

“No,” Shane admitted. “I didn’t.”