Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense

by Shiloh Walker

  “I don’t, huh?” Angie muttered as Shay’s voice mail kicked in.

  “Hey, sweetie. It’s me. I just got a message from one of your old email addresses … the AOL one? Do you even use that one anymore? Anyway, just wanted to ask you about it—you there?”

  When nobody answered, Angie wasn’t really surprised.

  After she hung up, just for fun, she dialed the other phone number.

  It was almost freaky, though, when a voice came on. If she hadn’t been prepared for something weird, she almost might have believed it was Shay. Almost.

  “So how do we get back in?”

  Angie studied the notes she’d made. There wasn’t much. The Shay impersonator was claiming that somebody had hacked into her site. Of course, the bitch claimed she didn’t know what that note on her news page was about—but they needed to get it down because she was dealing with all sorts of crazy over it.

  And again, it did sound like Shay.

  Sounded—but it wasn’t. There wasn’t much else that Angie could get, though. When she tried to get an idea about what was going on, the only response she got was, “I just don’t know …”

  When Angie asked what the deal with Elliot was—had he tried to hurt her? What was the deal with the note about the rape and shit?—all she got was I just don’t know …

  Nothing to go on. But hey, Angie had gotten a phone number.

  And she’d pass it on to that big, mean cop of hers who had just come into her office. He bent down to kiss her cheek and she smiled at him before focusing back on the phone call. Sorry, Shay … She’d wanted to get more information than this, but there just wasn’t anything to find.

  “So, Angie, how do I get back into my site?” the woman on the other end of the phone asked, her voice taking on a needling, annoying whine.

  Sighing, Angie dropped her pen. “Well, you see, that’s the problem, sweetie. I don’t know how to help you. It’s not your site.”

  As the line went dead, she just sat there. Darcy had had her fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to type in the password.

  Her heart had started to pound when Angie spoke again, though. Her voice had lost its understanding, we’re girlfriends tone and in its place was a ball-busting bitch. Half of the words didn’t even make sense. But one thing had been clear …

  “It’s not your site.”

  And then, dead air.

  She’d hung up.

  Angie had hung up.

  Without giving her the information she needed.

  No way to get into the site now. No way to move the site to a different hosting service. No way to change that message.

  “That bitch. That fucking bitch!”

  Fury ripped through her.

  She shoved back from the desk so hard, the chair overturned. In a rage, she grabbed it and threw it as hard as she could. It didn’t go far. “Fucking cunt.” Reaching out, she grabbed whatever was closest—a heavy glass paperweight in the shape of a chess piece. She threw it and it went pretty damn far, much farther than the chair, hitting the wall on the opposite side of the office and tearing into the drywall.

  She grabbed something else—a pair of scissors. They didn’t do as much damage as the paperweight, so she picked them up and attacked the drapes.

  This wasn’t going to be the end, damn it. She’d put too much work into this. Into everything. She’d spent too much time on this—almost half of her life waiting for just this and she wasn’t losing.

  Not now.

  “This. Isn’t. Done.” The drapes were in ragged shreds on the floor by the time she was finished with them. Bit by bit, the rage was lifting. Bit by bit, it eased. It wasn’t gone, though. Not yet.

  She put the scissors between her teeth and grabbed a framed poster from the wall, slamming it down until the glass shattered. Heedless of the sharp edges, she reached inside and grabbed the poster. It tore as she jerked it out, but that wasn’t enough. She cut, and she cut, and she cut, until nothing but tatters was left.

  There was one large, ragged piece left in the frame. Her breathing came in gasps as she stood up and stared at it. She pushed her hair aside, looking at remains of the oversized cover Shay had sent her. It had been signed. A gift.

  Now it served to remind her …

  She hadn’t wasted these years, and she hadn’t wasted her time. She wasn’t giving up now. She wasn’t.

  She’d keep trying to get control of the website. But there were other avenues she could explore. Plenty of them.

  She shoved her hair back from her face, unaware of the blood dripping from her fingers as she turned away.

  “I need to make a plan,” she muttered. She’d figured out a long time ago that she worked better with a plan, especially with something as big as this—and this was big.

  CHAPTER

  FIFTEEN

  OKAY. THAT WAS DONE. SHAY HAD TURNED OVER THE papers to her lawyer. The originals were locked in the safety deposit box.

  Now she was going to find out some answers on her own. She was going to find out who in the hell was taking receipt of her books in Michigan.

  But that meant … leaving. She hadn’t left Alaska since she’d moved here. She didn’t want to leave Alaska. She felt safe here.

  Panic swelled inside her and she squeezed her eyes closed. Maybe there was another option. A better one. There had to be—

  The phone in her pocket buzzed and she reached for it, feeling the ache in her chest ease as she saw Elliot’s face on the display. She answered on the second ring. “Hey.”

  Another option … no, there isn’t. Come on, Shay. Don’t be such a coward.

  Somehow, just listening to him grounded her.

  “Hey back …” His voice was subdued. Quiet. “I tried calling your place.”

  “I’m in Anchorage.” She chanced a quick look down the street and then zipped up her parka, tugged her cap and gloves out of her bag. She had to do this. She had to, because she had to know. “I … Elliot, I think I’m going to do something drastic.”

  “Oh?” There was a world of tension in his voice.

  “I’m going to Michigan.”

  A beat passed and then he laughed. “You call that drastic? What would New York be … earth-moving?”

  She swallowed. “I haven’t left Alaska since I moved here,” she whispered softly. “I just need to go for a day or two, but I’m terrified.”

  He was quiet. Then he said, “When are you going? Give me a day or two and I’ll go with you.”

  “I can’t.” She checked the time on her watch. “I’m leaving today. In a few hours. I don’t know when—just as soon as I can find a flight into Detroit.” She didn’t know when the next flight to Detroit was, but she’d be on it, damn it. She had to be, because if she thought about it, she’d freak out.

  “Shay, damn it.”

  Wincing, she said, “If I don’t go now, I’m going to chicken out and I have to go—I need answers. I’ll call you once I land.” Then she hung up and took off, moving out of the mall toward the parking garage. Don’t think, Shay … just don’t think.

  Elliot stared at the phone and then hurled it down on the counter. “Shit.” Glaring at it, he tried to decide if it was worth the trouble to call her back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Shay’s going to Michigan.”

  Lorna gaped at him. “For good?”

  “No.” Then, as his heart clenched on him, he muttered, “Hell, I hope not.”

  He hadn’t asked that question. Rubbing the heel of his hand over the knot in his chest, he said, “She has some stuff she needs to do.”

  “And this is bad …?”

  He grimaced. “I don’t think she wants to go alone. But she can’t wait.”

  Lorna came deeper into the office and plucked the phone from his desk. As she pushed it into his hand, she advised, “Then I suggest you haul ass. Go pack some shit. I’ll see what I can do about flights.”

  “I can’t just drop everything and go to Michigan,�
�� Elliot muttered, even as he stood up, staring at his sister.

  “You’re not.” She gave him a smile that reminded him of their mom. “You’re dropping everything to go to the woman you need. Right?”

  He stared at her. Then, without wasting another second, he tore out of the office and headed to the back of the store. The stairwell that led to their shared apartment was there.

  He could pack fast. He just hoped his sister could get him a ticket that fast.

  As Shay stood on the curb outside the airport, she swallowed.

  “Miss?”

  She glanced back over her shoulder and saw a guy standing a few feet away—it was one of the porters, she thought. He had on a uniform and a kind smile graced his face. “Am I in your way?” she asked wanly.

  “No. You’re fine.” He smiled again and came another step closer.

  Immediately, she tensed up.

  He saw it and halted, lifting his hands, still smiling. “Are you okay? You look kind of nervous. Upset.”

  She forced herself to smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t like to fly, huh?”

  “Kind of.” She gave him a weak smile and went back to staring at the airport.

  Here in Alaska, she’d found anonymity. And slowly, she’d come to find safety. Maybe she hadn’t exactly found the home she’d known with Virna, but it was still her home. Usually, she felt safe. There were exceptions, of course. Like when he had been released—

  Her heart jumped into her throat, just thinking of it. But he’d never come looking for her. He was still living in Phoenix—she had monthly reports on him, courtesy of a contact there, and if he left for even a day, she’d know.

  It was another way for her to feel safe. Just like the security system. Just like the name change. Just like the move.

  All of it.

  And now she was leaving the only security she’d found in all that time.

  Shit, maybe she should have waited for Elliot.

  Swallowing, she made herself take one step.

  Then another.

  “It’s not going to get any easier with those baby steps, sweetheart.”

  “No.” She glanced back at the porter and grimaced. “I guess it’s not. I’m just having a hard time moving much faster than this.”

  An understanding smile creased his face. “Just go on and get it over with, that’s what I’d do. It won’t help drawing it out.” That wide smile changed his whole face, lit it up and made his dark eyes sparkle. “You go on now. You’ll be fine.”

  Man, I hope so.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned back around and squared her shoulders. She’d damn well better be more than fine. She’d gotten away. She’d gotten here.

  She’d spent all these years in hiding, yeah, but she was doing a pretty good job of living.

  She hardly ever woke up screaming anymore. She dealt with the nightmares—so what if they choked her?

  And hell, she was even in a relationship—that was something, right? She’d had sex. Normal, healthy sex. She wasn’t the useless, cowering victim he’d tried to make her. Not anymore.

  Taking one big step, then another and another, she headed inside.

  She could damn well do this.

  She’d had enough things stolen from her. Half of her childhood, all of her innocence, her family.

  The pain, the memories, all of it haunted her. But she’d fought past that, past the horror, past the screams, past the nightmares, the grief, the pain.

  She’d made a life, damn it. Now somebody was trying to take it away.

  And she’d be damned if she let that happen.

  “Okay, there’s no direct flight to Michigan. Help me out here. There are two with connections, both of them within a couple hours of each other. The cheaper one is US Airways, connects in Phoenix and leaves sooner—”

  “Not that one,” he cut in. Images of the articles he’d read slammed into his mind. Phoenix—she’d avoid that place if at all possible, his gut said.

  “You sure? It’s more than a hundred bucks cheaper and it’s the one leaving sooner. Thought she was in a hurry.”

  “I don’t think it’s that one. What’s the other one?”

  “Delta. A few hours later. Connects in Minneapolis–St. Paul.”

  “That’s the one. Book me that one.”

  “Are you positive? If I book this one and she’s on the other one, then you’re out the money.”

  “No. I’ll just catch up with her there.” But he knew he wasn’t wrong.

  Cutting into the next lane, he eased his way around a semitruck. It was a nice day and he’d actually made it out at a good time to avoid traffic—now if it would just stay that way. “When does it head out?”

  “You’ve got four hours. How far away are you?”

  “Still thirty minutes.” He checked the clock. “As long as I don’t hit traffic, I should be good.” He blew out a breath and asked, “What do I say?”

  “Just tell her the truth. You knew she didn’t want to do this alone.” He heard a voice over the line and then Lorna said, “I need to go. Customers just decided to attack the store. You be careful—don’t crash trying to get there.”

  “I won’t. Thanks, Lorna.”

  Tossing the phone down on the seat, he focused on the road. No, he didn’t want to crash on the way. He needed to have his wits about him to convince her that he really needed to be with her on this trip. Lorna could handle the store for a few days on her own.

  But Shay needed him.

  That was what he’d say …

  “Shit.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Is that the right thing to say?”

  I knew you didn’t want to go … and I didn’t want you to have to go alone if I could be with you …

  This relationship crap was way too complicated. And they’d just gotten started.

  He made it to the airport in record time. Now all he had to do was find Shay.

  Lorna had already taken care of the ticket, but he wanted to make sure Shay was actually on this flight before he checked in. That way he could change it if needed.

  With his duffel bag at his feet, he sent her a text, scanning the crowd every few seconds, hoping he’d see her.

  Have you booked your flight already?

  Thirty seconds passed before she answered.

  Yes. I leave in just over two hours. I’ll call you when I land.

  Just over two hours. That had to be the same flight. But just in case …

  What’s the airline?

  She texted back and added:

  You’re not mad at me, are you?

  No. I know you need to do this.

  Then he tucked the phone away and went to check in. It took a while to get through security, but forty-five minutes later he was heading down the walkway, phone in hand. Once he saw her bent head, he sent her another text.

  Remember how I said I wasn’t mad? Because I knew you had to do this?

  He watched her from the side of the corridor and as a faint smile curled her lips, it punched him straight in the gut. She texted him back.

  He glanced down to read the message.

  Yes. Thanks for understanding.

  Repay the favor … don’t be mad. I had to do this, too. Look up.

  As she lifted her head, he shoved off the wall and started toward her. He saw the puzzled expression on her face as she looked around, then the look in her eyes as she saw him—at first, delight, followed by dismay. Then she slumped back into the seat, her eyes closed. By then, he’d reached her. Dumping his duffel bag on the floor by her feet, he crouched down and rested his hands on her knees. “So. Are you mad?”

  Shay scowled at him. “You make it kind of hard—being so understanding and all. I’d look like an ass if I got angry at you. Although where in the hell were you when you texted me?”

  “Getting ready to check in.” He shrugged, rubbing his thumb back and forth across her knee. “I wanted to make sure I had the right flight—if it wasn’t,
I’d change it.”

  “That’s cheating.”

  “We’re not really playing a game.” He studied her face another moment and decided she wasn’t mad. Moving to the seat next to her, he took her hand. “You don’t want to leave. I could hear it in your voice. I don’t want you leaving here if you’re not comfortable doing it. And I don’t really want to go a few days without seeing you.” He paused, and then softly, slowly, added, “Besides, all of this shit is crazy, and it’s getting crazier. I’d feel better if I could sort of watch your back.”

  Shay glanced at him, that scowl still twisting her lips. “Don’t be so logical. I’m still trying to sulk here.”

  “Why?” Stroking a hand through her hair, he cupped the back of her neck, digging his fingers into the tight muscles.

  “Because I had myself all psyched up to do something that terrifies me and I was ready to do it, all by myself. Now I’m not. It feels like I’m being a coward.”

  “Well, you didn’t ask for my help. If it makes it any easier, consider me an intruder or something.”

  She made a face. “Yeah, like that’s going to happen.” With a groan, she shifted in the seat, leaning against him as well as she could with the armrest between them. “I’m kind of glad you’re here, though. If I had to be honest, I have to say I’m really glad you’re here.”

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

  IN SOME WAYS, THE NORTH OF MICHIGAN LOOKED A hell of a lot like Alaska.

  And it was cold. Like Alaska.

  As they came out of the terminal to find their rental car, Elliot sucked in a deep breath of air. Then he glanced at her. “Man, it feels like home.”

  Shay shivered in her jacket and stared at the rows of cars. “She should have lived in Florida. That would have been a nice change.”

  “Nah. That would be too easy. Too nice,” he told her, ambling toward the cars. “So did you find a nice, sexy little convertible for the balmy weather?”