It went straight to voice mail.
Goddamnit. Some two-bit hacker had been harassing Abbie for weeks, and now she was gone. And here he was, pacing in front of a damn deli. Helpless. Abbie was missing and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
He forced himself to calm down. Abbie was the best damn agent at the agency. She could handle herself. Everything would be fine. It had to be.
His phone rang and he answered it before the first ring silenced. “Yeah?”
“She’s near Union Station. Agents are en route.”
“Send me the address.” He hung up and seconds later a text came through. The location wasn’t far. Hell, he could run there faster than he could drive with the traffic. But first he needed something from his car.
He didn’t hesitate, shooting off across the street to the sound of blaring horns. Once in the parking garage, he quickly unlocked his car and the glove box to take out his weapon. He didn’t know what to expect and he wanted to be prepared.
He slammed the car door and took off again. As expected, he made faster progress than the creeping traffic. He skidded around a corner, nearly eating pavement. Goddamn slick soles. Of all the days to wear new shoes. Only when he turned the final corner did he slow.
He approached the building cautiously. Though there were thriving businesses on either side, the front windows of this building were covered, not allowing any light through. He couldn’t tell if anyone was inside.
Should he inquire next door to see if anyone saw anything? What would Abbie do?
She would deal with it herself. And swiftly. He remembered the shock of seeing her on the balcony when he’d been held captive. Going through the front door would be too obvious.
He circled around and went down the back alley, using Dumpsters for cover. Though he couldn’t see in, that didn’t mean someone inside couldn’t see him.
The back door didn’t have a dead bolt. He tested the knob. Locked. It looked simple enough, though. He pulled a credit card out of his wallet and slipped it in between the door and the frame. He had gotten quite skilled at breaking into his own house as a teenager since he always forgot his damn key.
He had the lock popped in less than a minute.
He pulled his gun out and took the safety off. His hands shook and he took a few calming breaths. Then he squared his shoulders and steeled himself. No more time for dicking around.
He pushed the door open slowly, wincing at the creaking noise that was probably barely audible, but to him sounded like a damn foghorn announcing his presence.
The room opened to a narrow hallway with restrooms on one side and an industrial kitchen on the other side. Farther down, muffled noises came from behind a door. He pressed his ear up against the thick wood, but all he could make out was a female voice. Relief washed over him. That must be Abbie. He didn’t hear the deep voice of the hacker.
Now what?
Again, what would Abbie do? She certainly wouldn’t let her guard down. He double-checked his gun and slowly pushed open the door.
Though he’d been training with Steve, nothing could have prepared him for the scene in front of him.
Chapter 37
Abbie was strapped to a chair with duct tape. A piece of it was also stretched across her mouth. Circling her was a petite female holding a knife.
She whirled, her eyes widening at the sight of Jonathan. Though Jonathan kept the gun trained on her, his eyes darted to Abbie to assess her situation.
Her eyelids were heavy, like she was having trouble keeping them open. She must have been drugged or something. There were twin gashes across her cheeks that ran from her ears to the edges of the tape.
She blinked slowly, focusing on Jonathan.
The woman quickly stood behind Abbie, wrapping her arm around Abbie’s shoulders and holding the knife to her throat.
“The Beloved Bachelor of Capitol Hill in the flesh! I don’t believe it!” She laughed. “You should be living the high life with all that extra cash flow. You’re welcome, by the way. You know, transferring funds has become a little hobby of mine. You’d be surprised what people will do when I offer to click a few buttons. Like the Carew woman. Stupid cow dropped her son off on her parents’ doorstep two years ago. But now that he has cancer, she decided she’s going to step up to the plate. Medical care is so expensive these days. She was willing to do anything to get the money for his treatment, even walk through airport security with a bag full of guns. Even if it meant going to jail.”
She laughed again, then abruptly stopped. Her eyes were wild, clueing Jonathan in to the fact that he was not dealing with a rational human being. Not good.
Shit, shit, shit. He was out of his league. He tried to calculate how long it would take for the agents to arrive, but when his gaze shifted to Abbie’s face, he dismissed the thought.
He was here. And he would do whatever it took to save Abbie.
“What do you see in her, anyway? She’s such a bossy bitch. An overrated bossy bitch.”
Abbie held his gaze and then looked up, pointing her eyes in the direction of the woman behind her.
Jonathan clenched his jaw, understanding what Abbie was silently telling him to do. But if he missed, if he were off by even a matter of inches…
Abbie gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if to tell him she trusted him.
“Now here’s what we’re going to do.” The woman kept talking as Jonathan shifted slightly to the left to give him a better angle. “Your girlfriend here—”
He pulled the trigger.
The bullet pierced the woman’s shoulder, the force pushing her back a step, and she shrieked, her hand going up to the wound. Her other hand still held the knife.
Abbie quickly stood with the chair still strapped to her and turned. She wobbled, and for a second, Jonathan thought she might fall. Instead, she head-butted the woman, sending her back into the wall.
The knife clattered to the ground and Abbie fell to her knees. The entire altercation had taken seconds.
Jonathan rushed forward, wanting to go to Abbie, but knowing he needed to eliminate the threat. He pushed the woman facedown on the ground and held her wrists behind her at the small of her back. Using his foot, he nudged the roll of duct tape to within arm’s reach and used it to bind her hands.
All the while, the woman wailed and sobbed.
Jonathan tuned it out, turning toward Abbie, who was slumped on the ground. He ripped through the duct tape to release her from the chair and cradled her in his arms. Goddamnit, the freaking duct tape. There was no way this wasn’t going to hurt. He peeled it away from her face as gently as he could, but her body tensed. He hated having to hurt her, but he knew she’d hate the demeaning duct tape more than the pain.
Abbie struggled to keep her eyes open, the drugs still obviously affecting her.
“It’s okay.” Jonathan stroked her hair. “I’ve got you.”
Chapter 38
Abbie sat in the ambulance, letting the paramedic fuss over her and hating the scene it caused. The loud and flashing arrival of the first responders had attracted a gaggle of pedestrians, who stuck around to see what all the commotion—and yellow crime scene tape—was for.
She watched Jonathan talk with Sophie just outside the ambulance. This was the second time now that he’d stood watch over her like this. She hadn’t liked it before, and she sure as hell didn’t like it now. At least the first time she’d been the rescuer instead of the rescued.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. She’d walked right into a goddamn trap. She had to admit—it was a good one. Rachel Copeland would have made a good agent if she hadn’t had compromised morals.
Jonathan climbed into the ambulance, followed by Sophie.
“How are you feeling?” Sophie asked.
“I’ve been better, but then again, I’ve been worse, too.”
“She hacked into your Google calendar,” Sophie said, getting down to the details she knew Abbie would want. “Your phone is still secur
e.”
Abbie nodded. Of course. Google had so helpfully synced all her devices, so there was no need to access her phone.
“We checked out her office space—it was recently vacated. She’d closed up shop. She wasn’t planning to stick around after this.”
Sophie didn’t say it, but Abbie knew what that meant—Copeland had planned to kill her and disappear.
“She’s not talking, but I’d say we have the reason we need to access everything.” Sophie grinned.
Abbie rolled her eyes. “So glad I could be of service.”
“As far as I can tell, none of the data she sent you has been leaked. We would have heard by now.”
“Thank God.” Abbie let out a breath, sweet relief spreading through her. Copeland had taunted her with the fact that she had the power to ruin all those lives, but Abbie had been so drugged, she didn’t remember everything the hacker had said. They weren’t completely out of the woods on that front yet, but at least the prognosis was good.
Sophie patted her knee and hopped out of the ambulance.
Abbie didn’t believe in karma and fate and all that New Age crap, but she’d be an idiot not to see what the universe was telling her—this was a lesson in humility.
She was arguably the best, but damn if she hadn’t gotten cocky. The truth was, she couldn’t necessarily handle everything, but that was okay because she surrounded herself with people who could help. Sometimes being the best meant knowing your limitations and relying on the strengths of others.
Message received loud and clear, universe.
Thank God for Jonathan. Thank God he’d ignored everything she would have wanted him to do—namely keeping himself out of harm’s way and waiting for backup. His skills were actually quite impressive. Not that she was going to tell him that. She wouldn’t want him to get a big head.
She laced her fingers with his.
“Thanks,” she said.
He rubbed his thumb along her hand. “I think this means we’re even now, right?”
“I was never keeping score.”
He chuckled. “Bullshit. I don’t know how you said that with a straight face.”
“You know me too well, Congressman.” Okay, maybe she could give him a little respect. “Impressive shooting, by the way.”
He rubbed a hand on his neck, a chagrined expression on his face. “I was aiming for her head.”
Abbie’s eyes widened. Holy shit. If he had missed—
Jonathan laughed. “Gotcha.”
She glared at him and tried to pull her hand away, but he yanked her toward him and wrapped his arms around her. He covered her mouth with an all-consuming kiss.
Abbie didn’t fight it. There was no point. She’d given him control long ago. And she was okay with that.
She lost herself in the feeling of his warm lips on hers, grateful for the opportunity to share this with him.
She’d just wrapped her arms around his neck when she heard a loud ahem coming from outside the ambulance.
“You’re free to go,” the paramedic said. “Unless you’d like us to take you to the hospital so you can get checked out more thoroughly.”
“Hell, no,” Abbie said with enough emphasis that the paramedic blanched and stepped away. She turned back to Jonathan and tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, resting her forehead against his. “Take me home. To our home.”
Jonathan pulled back, his eyes wide. “Does this mean…?” It took a lot to unnerve the congressman and Abbie was glad she still had that ability.
She hoped she’d never lose it. She’d hate for things with Jonathan to become boring. Somehow, though, she didn’t think it would be an issue.
Abbie nodded. “Yes.”
He grinned, and seeing that dimple in his right cheek was enough to solidify in Abbie’s mind that she’d made the right decision.
“Are you sure?”
Abbie nodded again.
“You won’t regret this,” Jonathan said. “I—”
“Congressman?”
His brow furrowed. “Yes?”
“Shut up.” Then she pulled him closer and covered his mouth with hers.
About the Author
Jessica Linden lives in Virginia with her college-sweetheart husband, two rambunctious sons, and two rowdy but lovable rescue dogs. Since her house is overflowing with testosterone, it’s a good thing she has a healthy appreciation for Marvel movies, Nerf guns, and football.
bookshots.com
jamespatterson.com
Follow James Patterson on Facebook
There’s Always a Deal at BookShots.com
Visit BookShots.com or Download the App Today
Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
To receive special offers, bonus content, and news about our latest ebooks and apps, sign up for our newsletters.
Sign Up
Or visit us at hachettebookgroup.com/newsletters
Sabotage Page 10