Mattie’s legs shook as she crossed the street. When she opened the door to the wire office the young clerk behind the counter looked up at her and smiled. “Hello,” he said. “Can I help you?”
She forced a smile that felt tremulous on her lips. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in over her head. Could she really pull this off? Sick with fear, she strode to the counter.
“Could you please tell me if you’ve received a wire for me?” she asked.
“Let me check.” He walked to a computer and began punching keys. “Let’s see. What’s your name?”
“Donna Clark.”
“Clark.” He typed in her name. “Where’s it coming from?”
“Washington, D.C.”
Frowning, he tapped the pencil against the counter. “Oh, here we are. Looks like it just came through.” He grinned at her. “You have good timing.”
Mattie wasn’t so sure and looked over her shoulder through the office’s window. Beyond, on the sidewalk, a heavy-set woman and a toddler in a bright-red coat were walking by. A young man with long hair was exiting a lime-green Volkswagen. No sign of anyone suspicious. No sign of Cutter.
Until now it hadn’t crossed her mind that The Jaguar wouldn’t show. Maybe he’d realized this was a trap. A new layer of worry enveloped her as she turned back to the clerk. He was still working on her wire. She didn’t care about the money. All she wanted was for The Jaguar to show up so Cutter could take him in. She wanted this nightmare to be over.
She’d only been there for a minute, but it felt like an eternity. Why hadn’t The Jaguar shown up? Where was Cutter?
She turned back to the counter. The clerk was reaching for something beneath the cash register. Absently she glanced through a partially open door behind the counter that led to a rear office. The lights were off. But in the dim light slanting through the door, she saw two feet sticking up, as if someone were lying on the floor. What on earth?
Her gaze snapped to the clerk. But his eyes were already on hers. And she suddenly knew he wasn’t some inept clerk at all.
“Hello, Mattie,” he said.
Terror whipped through her. For a moment she was paralyzed with it. Then she scrambled back and spun toward the front door, her only thought to get out and run for her life.
But she wasn’t fast enough.
Midway there something stung her shoulder. Heat raced up her arm. At first she thought she’d been shot. Then she looked down at her shoulder and saw a tiny dart protruding. A thousand terrible thoughts rushed through her mind. Oh, dear God, she thought, help me.
The drug slammed into her brain with the force of a sledgehammer. One moment she was running toward the door. The next she was lying on the floor on her belly, totally paralyzed, her mind reeling.
Why couldn’t she move?
She saw the man vaulting the counter and walking over to her. She saw his boots, khaki slacks. He knelt and peered into her eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said. “The drug won’t hurt you.”
“Let me go,” she slurred.
Smiling, he snapped his fingers. Two more men entered the room. “Take her to the van. Quickly.”
“Yes, sir.”
She tried to fight the arms that lifted her, but her muscles refused to cooperate. They carried her to the rear of the store and to a waiting SUV in the alley.
“Cutter,” she whispered as they opened the side door and shoved her inside.
The man looked down at her, an evil grin on his face. “Not even Sean Cutter can help you now,” he said and slammed the door.
CUTTER SENSED DANGER the moment he burst into the wire shop. “Mattie!” he shouted.
The silence mocked him.
Darting across the customer waiting area, he slapped both hands down on the counter, his eyes scanning the clerk’s work area where a single door stood ajar. “Hello! Is anyone here?”
He didn’t wait for a response. Jumping over the counter, he drew his weapon and went toward the door. He kicked it open the rest of the way, scanned the murky interior, then leaned in and flipped on the light.
The clerk’s body had been tucked against the wall. The young man lay facedown in a pool of blood. Even before checking the clerk’s carotid artery, Cutter knew he was dead.
You screwed up, a little voice accused.
Cutter was no stranger to the dark emotions that came with his line of work. But the knowledge that a man like The Jaguar had Mattie made his blood run cold.
It was his worst nightmare. He’d always believed that enduring torture was the worst thing he would ever face. But he’d been wrong. It was infinitely worse knowing the woman he loved was going to face the same horrors.
Cursing himself, he wished like hell he’d handled things differently.
He pulled the cell from his belt and hit Wolfe’s number. The other man picked up on the first ring.
“The Jaguar has her.” Cutter barely recognized his own voice.
“How long ago?” Wolfe asked.
“Less than five minutes.”
“Let me scramble some agents.” Papers rustled on the other end. “Are you at the wire office?”
“Yeah.”
“Stay put.”
“Damn it, Martin, you shouldn’t have condoned this.”