The Shark (Forgotten Files Book 1)

“That’s all anyone can ask.”


He snapped his fingers, as if remembering the reason for the visit. “Maria wants you and Hanna to stay with us until this is over.”

“Thanks, but I’m not leaving my home. But I will take you up on the offer to keep Hanna.”

He allowed his gaze to roam the house, settling on the windows and the back French doors that opened to a small backyard. “Riley, we don’t like the idea of you being here alone. It scares the hell out of us.”

“I’ll manage. I even have a fancy new security system courtesy of Shield.”

He shook his head. “I can tell by the tone of your voice that your mind is made up.”

“It is.”

“When is Hanna due back?”

“Tomorrow.”

He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her. She relaxed into the embrace, thinking this is what it must feel like to have a father that loved her. “You’re going to be okay, kid.”

“Right.”

He kissed her on top of her head and stepped back. “I know you’ve had a long day, so I’ll go. Lock the doors after I’m gone. Call if you need anything.”

Unshed tears tightened her throat. “Will do.”

When she locked the door behind him, she leaned against it.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


Friday, September 23, 6:03 a.m.

Riley’s ringing phone woke her up minutes after six, and she realized she’d overslept. She pushed up and grabbed it, glancing at the number. She didn’t recognize it. Groaned. Then remembering Hanna was traveling, she shoved the phone against her ear and said, “Tatum.”

“Riley, this is Hanna.”

She sat up, glancing at the red digital numbers glowing from the nightstand. The girl sounded agitated—no, terrified, just as she had when she’d first found her. “Honey, what’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m at this house.” She pulled in a breath as if trying to stem the tide of tears. “And I don’t know how I got here.”

Riley swung her legs over the side of the bed, her heart kicking into high gear. Her thoughts jumped to the Shark. “Are you sure you’re not in the hotel room?”

“No. I remember the hotel room. We woke up early to get on the road. An hour ago, we were at a gas station. I went to the counter to get a drink. I drank about half, but it tasted funny, so I threw it out. I said I was going to be sick, and some man helped me out to the alley to throw up. I passed out. And now I’m here.”

“Where is here?” Standing, Riley frantically searched for her clothes. Fear circled around her.

Hanna began to cry. “Riley, I’m scared.”

She glanced toward the other side of her bed, noting only the faint impression of Bowman’s head still etched in the pillow. She struggled to keep her voice calm. “I need you to take a deep breath. Stay focused, Hanna.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re doing just fine.” She hurried to her dresser drawer, where with trembling hands, she yanked out jeans and a clean shirt. “Do you know where the house is? Do you remember any part of the ride?”

“I don’t remember anything.”

“What about sounds. Did you hear anything?”

“No.” She drew in a ragged breath. “You’re supposed to come. He said there will be a car outside for you.”

Panic rose. She’d thought Hanna would be safe out of town, but now she could see that was foolish. The Shark had found her. She struggled to keep her voice calm. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know. I do know the car will be there in three minutes.” She started to weep. “Riley, I’m scared.”

Her heart hammered as her mind raced to the next step. “It’s okay, Hanna. I’ll be there. I’m coming for you.”

Silence filled the line.

“Hanna!” When the girl didn’t answer, Riley shouted her name again. God, this was her kid, and it was her fault that Hanna was now in danger.

“He said to leave your phone and gun,” Hanna finally said.

“Okay, honey. I’ll do whatever it takes. Tell him, I will do what he says.”

“He’s watching.” Hanna’s voice cracked with fear. “Riley, hurry.”

“Okay.” The line went dead, leaving Riley to stare at her cell. As a cop she’d been trained to act in times of stress and to not panic. But all the scenarios she’d ever run had never involved her own child.

She set the cell on the rumpled sheets of her bed and tugged on her jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt that covered her bandage. “Bowman, if I ever needed you, it’s now.”

She shoved her feet into ankle boots, grabbed her phone and a hair tie, and fastened her long hair into a bun. She smoothed damp palms over her jeans and opened the gun box that contained her service weapon. She shoved her weapon in an ankle holster and strapped it under her pant leg. She also grabbed a pocketknife, which she slid in her boot. She dialed Bowman.

“Riley,” he answered.

Bowman’s deep voice was tense, cutting, and she nearly broke at the sound of it. God, she needed him now. But instead of giving in to the tears, she dug deep and fell back on her police training. “The Shark has Hanna. He’s sending a car for me in three minutes and I have to go.”

“Riley, don’t get in that car.”

“I don’t have a choice. Let’s hope Mr. Andrews knows his stuff.” She didn’t dare say tracker, as her cell phone was likely compromised.

“Don’t go.” His voice was diamond hard.

She rushed to the window and saw the black sedan pulling up in front of her house. It was the car she’d seen when she’d been running days ago. Getting into the car was akin to signing her death warrant. The Shark had come back to kill her. But she wasn’t ready to die and there had to be some way to save Hanna and herself. “I have to go. He’ll kill Hanna if I don’t. Don’t call the cops.”

“Riley, do not get in that car. Wait for me. I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“I don’t have twenty minutes. I don’t have one minute. I have to go now.”

“Damn it, Riley! Do not go!”

The anger and frustration in his voice nearly broke her heart. She didn’t want to do it this way. She didn’t. But there was no other play right now.

She hung up the phone, tossed it aside, and squaring her shoulders, walked out the front door, pulling it closed behind her. The windows were tinted and the passenger-side rear door popped open just a crack. She opened it, sat down on the rich leather seats, and stared at the dark partition dividing her from the front seat.

“Where’s Hanna?” she shouted.

“Close the door.” The calm voice came over the speakers.

“I’m not doing anything until you tell me who’s got my kid and where she is!” The more time she could delay, the more time Bowman had to find her.

“Shut the door or get out now. You’ve got ten seconds and then Hanna dies.”

Her options gone, she shut the door. “Where is she?”

“You’ll see her soon.” The car began to drive.