he’d furiously stated to his grandfather’s solicitor in the office where the will was being read.
He’d immediately offered to sign everything over to his mother, who’d only smiled and shook her head. I knew what I was doing when I married your father, she’d said in her gentle voice, turning her breathtaking smile on her husband, famed producer/director Sir Joshua Moore. I have no regrets.
And though Jason had still been angry over his grandfather’s actions, it had been impossible not to be moved by the loving, wordless exchange between his parents. He’d grown up seeing their devotion to each other all his life, of course. But in that moment he’d finally understood what it really meant. And for the first time in his life he’d actively prayed to find a woman like his mother. A woman who would sacrifice everything for him.
“Ten years,” he whispered now, shifting gears automatically as the traffic ahead of him slowed. “Ten years, and still...”
He’d never found her. Never found the woman who would look at him with that unmistakable expression in her eyes, the one that said the world was well lost if she had him. “Wishing for the moon,” he scoffed at himself. And yet...
Mei-li had found a man who looked at her that way. Not once, but twice. First Sean all those years ago, and now DeWinter. But then, his sister never had to worry about being loved for anything other than her wonderful self. Mei-li had turned him down when he’d offered to split the inheritance evenly between them. Had she somehow seen into the future and divined the price Jason would pay for that wealth...and wanted nothing to do with it?
He took the turn that would lead him to the DeWinter estate and drove nearly half a mile before pulling up in front of the gate, no closer to an answer than he was when he’d started his little soul-searching episode. He rolled down the window and touched the electronic key card that would open the gate against the card reader. His sister had given it to him when the DeWinters had moved up here. He hadn’t told her he already had one—he’d designed the estate’s security for his sister and brother-in-law, and his company had installed the entire system. And like some software designers, he’d made sure he had “backdoor” access.
He tapped his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, waiting for the gate to swing open, then drove through. The Jag passed through an electronic beam, and the gate automatically shut behind him.
A minute later Jason pulled up to the main house, but to his surprise there was a police car parked in front of it. Perturbed, he grabbed the flowers off the seat next to him and headed for the front door, which swung open before he could ring the bell. “Sorry I’m late,” he told his sister, holding the flowers out in front of him, but hooking a finger over his shoulder at the police car. “What are the po—” He stopped abruptly, because the somber expression on Mei-li’s face warned him. “What’s wrong?”
“The police are here to question Alana again,” she said. “It hasn’t hit the news yet, but it will soon. There was another abduction while you were gone. Almost the exact same MO as the way she was snatched. On a crowded street. In broad daylight.”
“I really can’t tell you anything more about the men who grabbed me,” Alana was saying when Jason approached the family room. “I wish I could.” From her voice Jason could tell she was practically in tears. “Especially now that another woman—” She broke off abruptly, then continued. “But they were wearing masks that completely covered their heads and faces except for their eyes. Then I was unconscious when they transported me to...wherever. I already told you they were speaking Cantonese when I could hear them, but they kept me blindfolded the entire time. I have no idea what they look like or where they were holding me, or anything.”
Both policemen turned when Jason and Mei-li walked into the room, and his sister quickly said, “You know Detective Inspector Lam, of course, of the Organized Crime and Triad Bureau. And this is Sergeant Wo of the same unit. Sergeant, this is my brother, Jason Moore. We were expecting him for dinner.” She turned to Alana and added smoothly, with almost no hesitation, “And this is Alana Richardson, Dirk’s executive assistant. She was abducted last Sunday and miraculously rescued. I told you about it, remember? The police are here trying to learn what they can.”
“Unnecessary to introduce me to either gentleman,” Jason said. He shook hands with the two policemen, addressing them formally. “Detective Inspector. Sergeant. Good to see you again, although not under these circumstances.” Then he turned to Alana, who had risen to greet him when the policemen did, and took her hand. “Miss Richardson. Glad to make your acquaintance. I was very sorry to hear from Mei-li what you had to go through, but needless to say I’m happy you suffered no permanent injury.”
Alana’s eyes widened as he spoke, and Jason cursed internally. Although he allowed nothing but polite interest to reflect in his expression, he realized she’d made the connection. She knew who he was. There was no way she recognized his face, so it had to be his voice.
She didn’t blurt it out, however, and Jason gave her bonus points for quick thinking and effective dissimulation. “I’m glad to meet you, too, Mr. Moore. Your sister has told me a lot about you. And Linden and Laurel are full of their ‘Unca Jason,’” she said. “You’re quite a favorite with them.”
Jason let himself smile in response. “And they’re quite the favorites with me, too.” Then he glanced at the policemen. “But don’t let me interrupt. You were in the middle of an interrogation, yes?”
“Not an interrogation,” the detective inspector was quick to point out, his face impassive. “Miss Richardson is a victim, not a suspect. But we were hoping she could shed some light on the men who abducted her.” His dark eyes met Jason’s. “Or on her miraculous rescue,” he added drily. “We received an anonymous tip the night she was rescued.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “And we did a thorough forensics analysis of the crime scene. DNA results on the man she scratched aren’t back yet, so if we knew who rescued her and how she was located, that could yield important information.”
When Jason’s expression betokened nothing but bland interest, the detective inspector went on. “We have reason to believe Miss Richardson’s abduction is related to a string of similar ones, most recently one that occurred yesterday.”
“That is unfortunate,” Jason agreed. Not by the tiniest flicker did he let on he knew anything more than he’d just been told. But his mind was working feverishly. He couldn’t reveal he knew exactly where Alana had been held or how she’d been tracked to that apartment. Nor could he reveal how she’d been rescued, not without putting himself and his men in an untenable position. Not without putting RMM itself at risk.
“What ties them all together?” To Jason’s surprise, it wasn’t his sister asking the question; it was Alana.
The two policemen exchanged glances, then the detective inspector said, “The MO, for one thing—modus operandi. We’re not at liberty to discuss anything more than that, Miss Richardson. Suffice it to say we have overwhelming evidence they are connected.”
Which made Jason wonder if the crime scene had yielded any clues. He hadn’t followed up on the police investigation the way he usually did, and he wondered about that, as well. Was it because he was trying not to be too involved? Because of the attraction he felt toward Alana that he didn’t want to feel? If so, it was a mistake, because now another woman had been abducted, and RMM needed to add that to its own investigation.
No one spoke for the space of five heartbeats,
