Synergy: New Adult Romantic Suspense (U-District, #1) (46 page)

His matching hat, button-down shirt, and cowboy boots don’t mask it

Gray could be silver, the color of shiny sports cars and coin

Meant to exude wealth, power, and fame

But all I see is the subdued shade of gray and the subdued man

Even the absence of color—white—or all colors—black—go with everything

But gray, what does gray go with except other shades of gray

It’s the color of fog and clouds bloated with rain

Causing air, sidewalks, and streets to look the same

Gray drives all signs of life into their cocoons

It’s a lonely color, reflecting the lonely, desperate man

Others don’t see past the outer beauty of him

The strong jaw and shoulders imply his character is the same

His tall height and long legs mean he is afraid of nothing

Why can’t they see it in his eyes, the ones that betray him

He’s afraid of something and he’s lost in the fog

Come back to me, lyrics sung to the woman who is gone

His voice exposing his anguish, his eyes showing what it cost

Did he hurt this woman as much as she hurt him?

Or did she push him away, as if on a whim?

Why can’t they leave this man alone?

His words aren’t meant for anyone… but the one he has lost

His voice cracked during the final words of her poem. He turned his gray eyes on her and snapped the book shut.

Tucker Calhoun stepped toward Selena, his tan cowboy boots thudding on the sidewalk. His blue jeans and brown leather jacket were well worn and creased in all the right places. He shoved one hand in his pocket, the other gripping the book so tight his knuckles turned white.

With every step toward her, he seemed to get taller, beyond his six foot height, or maybe she was cowering. She retreated a step, the doorknob jabbing into her back.

“Looks like you have one of two options. Lock yourself in the bookstore or face me.”

Never run from a threat, or you’ll become a target
. How many times had Neal said those words?

She lifted her chin. “My brother’s a cop, and he taught me to never run.” She stepped forward and drew in a deep breath, her hands firmly planted on her sides, and tried to make her five foot six inches look impressive. Tucker no longer towered over her, and that’s when she saw it. His eyes contradicted his anger. He was suffering. He was in pain.

“You need to take this back.” Tucker shook the book at her.

“How?”

“Write a retraction; say the last poem wasn’t about me.”

“I never said it was about you.”

“Don’t give me any of that bull. You used the title of my song and my signature gray eyes and gray hat. You and the whole damn world knows this is about me.” He shoved the book into her chest.

The force caused her to take a half step back. She clutched the book in her hand. “What do you mean the whole world knows?”

“It’s all over the Internet. But you know that.”

Blood drained from her head. The very thing that had killed her sister, she had now done to this complete stranger. “No, I—”

“My misfortune is your
fortune
, right?” He slid his other hand into his pocket.

“That’s not why—”

“Sure it is, sweetheart. You’re not the first woman to take advantage of me.”

“Don’t call me that.” It wasn’t the word she minded, it was the derisive way he’d said it.

He gestured to a limo idling at the curb. “You better come with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t even know you.”

“Sure you do, sweetheart.”

She opened her mouth. How could she respond to that? What she wrote in the poem must be true.

“If you’re not going to retract it, you need to speak with my lawyer. Unless of course, you want your lawyer to speak to my lawyer.”

“Lawyer? I don’t have a lawyer.” Her voice faltered. He’d struck fear in her with that single word. Worse, she’d just let him know she didn’t have a lawyer. How stupid could she be?

“We need to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Look, you’re in deep water. Your publicist put out a few posts that all but implied your poem proves the rumors about me are true. We worked hard to put those rumors to bed.

“Posts? Rumors? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Let’s go.” He gripped her arm.

“No.” She pulled away.

His small step forward, the raise of his eyebrows, even his dilating pupils suggested loud and clear that Tucker Calhoun wasn’t used to having anyone say
no
to him. In a swift move, he reached behind her, locked the inside door, and pulled it shut. It was a childish maneuver, one an adolescent might use when he didn’t get his way, but he’d managed to lock her out of her own store.

He leaned down and put his lips to her ear. “A couple hours of your time is all I’m asking for. It’s the least you can do for me.”

He’s right.
She’d done the unthinkable. Selena had never thought anyone would really read her book, let alone figure out that poem had anything to do with Tucker Calhoun. And Janet, how could she post things on the Internet after Selena’s own sister Katie had taken her life because of what had been posted for the world to see?

He took a deep breath. When he let it out, his shoulders seemed to deflate. “The woman who wrote that poem isn’t afraid of me.” He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. The ones full of despair. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you, Selena?”

She squared her shoulders. “Of course not.”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He slipped into the back of the limo, next to which was an imposing guy, probably a bodyguard, holding the door open… waiting. Tucker had issued her a challenge, this man whom the entire world knew, but who didn’t know her. Yet he’d found her one true weakness.

She never backed down from a challenge.

“MISSING? WHAT DO YOU MEAN
my sister is missing?” Detective Neal Hawkins dropped his feet from the top of his cubicle’s desk in the north Seattle precinct office and leaned forward in his swivel chair.

Selena’s friend and co-worker, Rebecca, spoke so fast, it was difficult to make out all of the words. “I thought it was weird when the bookstore was locked during business hours. I mean, Selena would never do that. So I thought, maybe she was sick, but then I went back to the stock room and her purse was there and she was nowhere in sight. So, I opened her purse and found her car keys, and her wallet, and her cell phone.”

Neal’s posture went rigid. “Her cell phone?”

“I know, right? She’d never leave without her cell phone.”

He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and checked for any messages from his sister.
Nada.
“Did you try her at home?”

“Yes, she’s not picking up there either. I checked next door, and the owner said he saw her come in this morning.”

“Did he see her leave?”

“No, that’s just it. And worse, her book came in today. The boxes are in the back and opened. She’d already built a front-window display.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Are you sure the door was locked?”

“Yes, I had to unlock the door to get in.”

“Could she have accidentally locked herself out?”

“I don’t know, maybe.”

“What about Brenda? Does she know where Selena is?”

“She’s camping this week. I tried her cell and left her a message, but I don’t know when she’ll call back or if she even has service.”

Of course Selena’s best friend wouldn’t be available at a time like this. Neal swiped a hand down his face.
Okay, this can’t be as bad as it seems.
Selena had done something stupid and locked herself out of the store. That’s all there was to it. She was excited about her book, probably walked across the street to show someone, and accidentally locked herself out. This wouldn’t be the first time Selena had done something impulsive without thinking it through. “When did you get in?”

“At eight.”

Neal glanced at the wall clock. It was ten-fifteen. Selena had been gone for over two hours without keys, money, or a cell phone. “Could she be at one of the stores nearby? Maybe she wanted to show her book around?”

“I’ve checked.”

Neal wrestled between being relieved Rebecca was thorough and upset because the possibilities of where Selena could be were dwindling fast. “Have you checked her place?”

“No, I was going to swing by at lunch. I still have a key from when she needed me to water her plants when she flew out to Seattle to visit you in the hospital.”

“Close the store now and go see if she’s home or at one of the neighbors.”

“But she’ll get upset if I close the store.”

Neal shook his head. Was the girl really that clueless? “If she’s hurt, Selena won’t care if the store is closed.”

“Right. Okay, I’ll go now. I’ll call you when I get there.”

Neal slammed the phone down after Rebecca hung up.

“What’s up, Hawk?” Riley, his partner, glanced up from his computer screen.

“Selena’s missing.”

“How long?”

“Two hours.”

Riley leaned back in his chair. “No cause for alarm.”

“Her purse was locked inside the store. She doesn’t have money or a phone.”

“She’s probably with a friend.”

“Probably.” This was the first time Neal could relate to the numerous phone calls the office received for missing persons; parents or spouses thinking their loved ones were dead on the side of the road, abducted, or even murdered. Dispatch would get a doozy or two each day and share them at the water cooler to entertain anyone who would listen.

This time, he wasn’t entertained.

His sister was out there somewhere.

Where would she go?

Selena was excited about her book. She’d want to show it off to others. She always arrived at the store an hour before it opened. She’d want to share her excitement, but there would be no customers before business hours. So she’d walk outside, go to a nearby store that was already open. She wouldn’t want to leave the store unattended. So she’d pull the door closed, maybe lock it, and then realize she’d left her keys behind.

Though Selena was in San Francisco and Neal was in Seattle, there were still a few things he could do from here, right now. He turned to his computer and typed the address to Selena’s bookstore into Google Maps. He hovered over the nearby businesses and called Lola’s Toy Stop, One of a Kind, Jackson and Polk, Yap Wraps, and Kara’s Cupcakes.

One call after another was a bust. No one had seen Selena this morning. Two people mentioned seeing a limousine nearby, but didn’t know if it had anything to do with Selena. Suzie at the Ghirardelli Ice Cream and Chocolate Shop went on and on about how happy she was that Selena’s book was doing so well. It took him five minutes to politely end the call.

Neal rubbed his left shoulder, the gunshot wound a bitter reminder of why he was sitting here filling out paperwork instead of working cases. He pulled out his keys and unlocked his desk drawer. The bottle of Vicodin sat there, still full. He reached for the ibuprofen instead and swallowed two with his cold coffee.

The clock read ten-thirty-three.

Only eighteen minutes had passed since Rebecca’s call.

Time was his worst enemy.

Where the hell is Selena?

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?”
After two hours on the road, each sizing the other up, Selena began to worry when there was no destination in sight. Stupid of her to be asking the question now.

Tucker didn’t seem the least bit worried. “We’re heading to Los Angeles.”

“L.A.? That’s over five hours away.”

“That’s where my lawyer is.”

“You can’t take me all the way to Los Angeles.” Her voice rose an octave. “You’d said it would only be a few hours, not the entire day. This is kidnapping. Take me back now.”