He was letting Wade go without pressing him for answers. But why had he looked at the driver’s license? What could he learn from that?
Wade picked up his wallet.
Lincoln handed him his license. “If I see you here again, I’ll send you on an ambulance ride.” Taking the gun from Remy, he removed the clip before handing it to Wade.
He took it, and furious eyes turned to Remy. “You’re going to regret this.”
Not if she could help it. She was in a race against time now.
Wade yanked the door open and slammed it as he left.
Lincoln turned to her. “What was that all about?” Beating her was enough, but threatening her with a gun took it to a new level.
She didn’t say anything, just imagined what his reaction might be if she did, if she told him everything. Confiding in someone would be refreshing. But she could trust no one with that. Not anymore.
“Why is he threatening you?” he asked.
“Where’s Maddie?” she asked instead of answering.
His mouth pressed together ever so slightly, disappointedly perhaps, but his eyes gave nothing away. “I left her at my house.”
“I’ll go and get her.” She started for the back door.
“Remy.”
Spinning to face him, she said, “Don’t ask questions, Lincoln. Number one, I barely know you, and number two, I can’t tell anyone about Wade.”
“Why not?” He approached, his strong, confident strides making her wish she could trust him. And more.
As he came to a stop, she almost gave in. But good sense intervened and she turned again, this time going out the door.
“What kind of trouble are you in?” he asked from behind her.
She went through the broken gate and opened his backyard gate.
“I can help you,” he said.
Could he? Against Wade? Maybe, if that was all it entailed. But it was far more dangerous than that. No. No one could help her. As always, she had to take care of herself. She could depend on no one else. Besides, if Lincoln knew how she’d crossed paths with Wade, he might change his mind about helping her. And she could not risk that.
Chapter 2
The next afternoon, Lincoln settled down on his sofa with a turkey sandwich and a football game. A bark at the back door was his daily signal to get back up. Maddie stood on the other side of the sliding-glass door, beyond the nose smudges he’d given up cleaning. A toy was on the step between her paws, her tail wagging excitedly.
He opened the door. “You’re early.”
She trotted past him, going to the pantry. Facing him, she sat, tail wiggling away.
He chuckled and gave her the requisite treat.
When she finished, she jumped up onto the sofa with him, curled up with her head on his leg. He rubbed her ears and watched her eyes slide closed.
Any minute Remy would be here to get her. He was looking forward to it. More conversation. Picking through her secrets. Why he was inclined to involve himself in those secrets put him in check. People with secrets had a tendency to lie. What did he want from her? Her mystery or her body? Her body might not be worth the mystery. She might be the kind of person he hunted for bail jumping. He hadn’t called the cops because he still wasn’t sure she fit into that category.
After a while, it dawned on him that Remy wasn’t coming over. Standing, he went to the front door and opened it. No sign of Wade’s car. Remy’s house was quiet.
Where was she?
He glanced back at Maddie, who still lay on the sofa, content as could be. If Remy was in trouble, the trouble had come after Maddie had left.
Something wasn’t right. Going to the closet near the door, he opened the small safe he kept there and retrieved his pistol. Maddie jumped off the couch and was ready by the door.
“No. You stay here.” He left her inside and hurried to the broken gate.
Moving slowly toward the back door, which was left open as it had been last night, he heard a crash inside.
“Where is it?” a man’s voice growled.
More crashing.
Lincoln peered through the open door. Remy sat on her sofa, one man standing off to the side aiming a gun. The other swiped items off the shelf, searching for something. Both were in suits, as though they’d been on their way to dinner when they’d stopped by here. The one aiming the gun at Remy was slightly heavyset with a receding hairline in an otherwise thick head of hair, the other muscular with dark, curly hair.
They must have just arrived, or Maddie wouldn’t have come over to his house, and if she’d known they were there, she’d have been more agitated. Entering the house, he quickly moved out of sight into the kitchen, and then put his back to the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. At the edge of the wall, he emerged into sight and fired at the man pointing a gun at Remy, taking out his knee. The heavier man went down as his partner charged. Pivoting, Lincoln blocked the swing of the other man’s hand just in time. They sparred a few more times before Lincoln caught him open and rammed his fist into his larynx. As the man choked for air, Lincoln kicked him off his feet and kept him there with the sure aim of his gun.
Checking on Remy, he saw the heavier man held his bleeding knee, and she had picked up his gun. She was resourceful, and he was glad she could overcome fear.
Lincoln turned back to the curly-haired man. “Who are you?”
The man didn’t answer. Lincoln hadn’t expected him to, but he hoped to at least glean some idea of why they were here.
“What are you looking for?” he asked.
Still the man didn’t respond, merely looked up at him, waiting for a bullet. He wasn’t going to get one. Lincoln didn’t kill that way. He’d let the law do its job.
“Lincoln!” Remy called, but her warning was too late.
A third man rushed into the room from behind Lincoln and grabbed Remy before he could react. The third man hooked an arm around her neck and pressed a gun to her head. Another suit. Dark, short-shaved hair, pale-gray eyes.
Two more men entered from the back door, both in suits, one taller than the other by just a couple inches, both lean in form, one blond and the other brunette.
“Drop your gun,” the man holding Remy said against her ear.
Remy’s eyes closed briefly, her renewed fear palpable. She knew these men, especially the one who had her. She dropped the gun she held, tossing it out of reach of the man still at Lincoln’s feet.
“You, too,” the man
