you want to continue this? Working with me, I mean? This isn’t really what you’re trained to do, and as much as I’m hoping for a good outcome, things could get more unpleasant.”
“I know, but I have to see it through. I’d understand if you don’t want me along, though, especially after this. If that’s the case, then just say the word and I’ll get out of your way.”
He studied her for a minute, and she knew he was weighing the pros of having the only person who knew Anna on a personal level against being saddled with a rank amateur. Using every advantage available must have finally won out because he shook his head.
“If you’re willing, I can probably use your help,” he said grudgingly. “If she’s on the run from something, she may run even faster with only me pursuing her. With you there, she’ll believe I’m an ally.”
“Good,” she said, despite his lack of enthusiasm.
“But if things get too intense, I reserve the right to sideline you.”
“Okay.” And I reserve the right to ignore you if you do.
He gave her a nod and walked out of the building. She watched him for a minute, unable to stop herself from admiring the way his muscular back rippled beneath his T-shirt. He was one hundred percent alpha male—strong, direct and physically capable of handling his adversaries.
And Colette couldn’t help but think that the biggest risk for intensity was in her attraction to Max.
THE BRANCH MANAGER AT the location where Anna made the withdrawal turned out to be a man, so Max couldn’t try the charm route to get an inroad. But Max figured with his stiffly starched shirt, perfect hair and neat-as-a-pin office, the man would probably bend the rules to avoid anything remotely messy or unattractive for him or the bank.
As soon as he explained that the woman was missing and a crime may have been committed, the manager was more than willing to pull the tapes for them. They waited impatiently as the manager sifted through a box of tapes and finally pulled the right one out and placed it in the ancient VCR.
“We really should upgrade to digital,” the manager said, clearly nervous about the entire situation. “I keep asking, but corporate claims there’s no funding. I hope this thing was working properly that day. It has its moments.”
Max frowned. A “moment” from a VCR was the last thing he needed when he already had almost nothing to go on.
“Thank goodness,” the manager said when the tape fired up a fuzzy display of the ATM on the outside of the bank. “What was the time of the withdrawal?”
“Three thirty-two p.m.”
The manager forwarded the tape to just before three-thirty, and they all leaned in to watch. An older gentleman was using the ATM, but in the background, at the edge of the parking lot, stood a young woman.
“That’s Anna!” Colette said.
The gentleman finished his transaction and left the ATM. Anna glanced around then hurried across the parking lot to the ATM. She fumbled with her wallet, dropping it, but finally retrieved her card and withdrew the money. Her expression told Max everything he needed to know.
This wasn’t a woman out for a weekend fling. This woman was terrified.
They watched as she withdrew the cash and shoved it into her wallet. She looked nervously up and down the parking lot before hurrying back across to her car and driving away. Max leaned in toward the monitor to get a closer look at her car. A second later, she was gone.
“I didn’t see anyone coercing her,” the manager said, although his voice lacked conviction, probably based on Anna’s clearly nervous disposition.
“Don’t worry,” Max assured the man. “There’s nothing here that the bank can be faulted for. Do you mind if I take this tape?”
“No, of course not,” the manager said, his relief apparent. “Don’t worry about returning it. I need to change out the old tapes, anyway.”
“I really appreciate the help,” Max said and took the tape and motioned to Colette to leave.
After identifying Anna on the tape, Colette hadn’t said another word, but Max didn’t think for a minute that she hadn’t formed an opinion. As soon as the climbed into his Jeep, she let it out.
“She looked scared,” Colette said.
“Yes, but we have no reason to assume she’s scared because she’s in danger. Maybe there’s a sick friend or family member she never told you about.”
“She would tell me about a sick friend. I’m a nurse, for goodness’ sake. That’s enough of a reason for me to assume she’s in danger. If the problem was benign or anyone else’s to bear, why wouldn’t she tell me?”
He blew out a breath. As much as he hated it, the fact that Anna hadn’t contacted the only person she’d become close to didn’t add up, unless Anna herself was the one in trouble.
“You said she didn’t have family,” he said.
“She said she didn’t have family.” Colette shook her head. “Look, clearly I don’t know Anna as well as I thought I did. Maybe I don’t know her at all, but the woman on that tape didn’t know anyone was watching her, so she had no reason to fake being scared.”
“I agree, but we need a starting point. Her past is the most likely choice.”
“Okay.”
“You said her hometown was on this highway, right?”
“Not exactly. I said it was on the way to her hometown.”
Something in her tone let him know he was in for more answers he didn’t want. He looked over at her. “Where is Anna from?”
“Cache.”
He stared at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I wish I were.”
“The entire village is the Louisiana swamp version of a unicorn. The name itself means ‘hidden.’ Even if it really exists, which I’m not certain of, how in the world are we supposed to find it? Every teenager I know, including me, tried to find Cache. No one ever came close.”
“It’s there … somewhere in the swamp. It has to be.”
Max shook his head. “Even if it is, there are other things to consider. You grew up in New Orleans, right? You know the stories.”
“What—that the entire village materializes at the will of the village people and can disappear just the same? That no one’s ever seen it and lived to tell about it? That if an outsider sets foot in the village, a curse will descend on ten generations of their family?”
She blew out a breath. “It’s all just stories made up by parents to keep their kids from wandering in the swamp. Maybe even made up by the villagers to keep people from looking for the village. A bunch of old Creole lore can’t possibly concern you.”
“It’s
