eep was a distant count

feet. She found herself at the built-in bar, a wall of gleaming bottles she couldn't name. She poured a measure of a

stalled last month. To tell him to be careful. The thought was absurd. He was a stranger

t traffic. He wore a dark baseball cap, the brim pulled low, obscuring his face. On the passenger seat, a tablet displayed

Hayes was trapped in

e Stein mansion's gates. He'd been there for hours. The initial

Straight to voicemail. He'd texted un

went out, one by one, until only a few secur

ate, last-ditch hope, he got out of his car, walked t

voice crackled through the speaker. A

thy. "Preston? What on earth are you doing here at this hour?" Her tone was cool, but a flicker of pr

ton asked, his voice r

im, though he managed a faint, tight smile. "We can't reach her either. But I'm sure it's all just

ised glee. "Maybe she's out with someone else, Preston," she called down, her

e forgive Sabrina. It's been a long night for everyone. But perhaps you shou

ds of "concern," their tones measured and polite, before making it clear he should leave. They were sym

gainst the steering wheel, the sharp pain a fleeting distr

that had silently pulled int

igh above the street, feeding a clear image to his tablet. He watched Preston's

ips. It was the look of a predator watching a

ton Martin's engine roared to li

elding kill his own engine. He glanced at his phone, at

on, before her father had moved them to New York, she'd had a similar hiding place under

e detail of her past, was

the car, a shadow detaching itself from the deeper shadows of the night. With the fluid grace