Page 4 of The Saint

Jonathan’s voice echoed in her head.Don’t look back. She needed to do what they’d said, to help Hailey. Amelia ducked behind the neighbors’ car. She had her marching orders but was certain she should commit the outlier car to memory. Though she didn’t know types or brands or makes or models, she did her best to memorize the car then rushed behind the Callaghans’ house.

The fence gate creaked but otherwise opened uneventfully. She checked over her shoulder and ran into the backyard. The back door was illuminated by a dim light. Her heartbeat galloped. Amelia’s shaking hands fumbled with the key, but it slid easily into the back door. She turned it—it stuck.

“Shit.”

Jonathan had predicted that. Her hands vibrated like she might overdose on adrenaline. Amelia drew her hands away and watched them tremble. She inhaled and let it out slowly, dropped her hands to her sides, and pressed them to her thighs as though she could force the shakes to abate.Pull it together. Amelia tried the key again, that time with a careful jiggle.

Nothing.

It didn’t budge.

Sweat broke out on her back. Panicked tears pricked the back of her throat. “Shit, shit, shit.”

She slammed her palm next to the back door’s window frame and jiggled the key harder—it turned as though her shaking hand had been given the touch of Harry Houdini.

Relief flooded her. The doorknob twisted easily. Warm air escaped from inside the cozy house as the cold realization of her actions was clear. With or without a key, she was breaking and entering.

That could land her in jail.Why didn’t they call for help from Hailey’s house? Or use their cell phones?Amelia’s stomach plummeted.Did Jonathan say the Callaghans were home or not? That they traveled? Are they travelingnow?It didn’t matter at that point. She was already in the thick of it.

Amelia slipped farther into the cozy house, and her heart hammered loudly enough to wake everyone within a fifty-mile radius. Her hands still shook as she locked the door from the inside and found herself in a kitchen.

Frozen like a statue, Amelia swept her gaze through the room, barely lit by the decorative fixture over the sink. She inched farther inside. Her wet oversized shoes squeaked, and Amelia stepped out of them. The house smelled as though someone had baked thousands of sugar cookies and blueberry muffins in its oven over the years. Cookbooks lined the wall. A crocheted doily topped with figurine salt-and-pepper shakers held court in the center of a prominent kitchen table.

A cat meowed. Amelia jumped and silenced her half scream by clamping a hand over her mouth to drown the sound and keep her heart from escaping. A dull thump of it jumping sounded nearby.

“It’s a cat,” she scolded herself. One she didn’t see. “Kitty?”

Now looking for a phone and a stealthy cat, Amelia crept toward the built-in desk on the opposite side of the kitchen. The desk was half buried by books and clutter. Cooking and gardening magazines were piled in front of a row of mismatched nature field guides at the back of the desk. Worn hardcover novels were interspersed with the field guides. An untidy pile of mail and a cordless phone sat next to a child’s handmade ceramic pen holder.

Amelia shoved Jonathan’s book in with the field guides and rushed for the handset. The cat jumped onto the desk. Amelia screamed again and threw herself back against the refrigerator.The cold metal felt good against her back. The cat jumped onto the floor and rubbed itself against her ankle, calming her thundering pulse.

“Good kitty. Nice kitty.” She dipped to pet the cat, and a wall calendar caught her eye. She approached it cautiously. The Callaghans were very busy people, and if the date was correct, they were gone for the night for a quick trip to New York City.

She was alone—except for the cat. The fact that she wouldn’t be arrested for breaking and entering offered slight reassurance. At least, she wouldn’t be arrested immediately. She was on a mission. She could get in and out and be done with this mess. Amelia grabbed the cordless phone and moved into the living room.Banana. Light bulb. Chicken. Heart.Four little words were supposed to make everything better.

This is insane.She pulled the drapes back and checked the car across the street that had caught her eye. She wasn’t sure if its windows looked different than the others. She stared at it—its driver’s door opened. Her stomach catapulted. Fear sliced down her neck. A tall man stood and stared back at her as though he wasn’t sure ifshewas real. He shut the car door and strode her way.

“Shit.” She jerked away from the window. Was he really coming toward the house?

She peeked out again. The front passenger and back seat doors had opened. Three others got out. They moved toward Hailey’s house, but the driver was jogging toward Amelia.

“Fuck.”

This was real. It was serious. She needed help. Hailey and Jonathan needed help. What had she been waiting for?

Her fingers vibrated again like she’d mainlined espresso. She read the permanent marker on her arm and dialed the phone number, moving toward the stairs at the center of the house. Every horror movie ever made showed the ditzy girlrunning deeper into the house before her murder, but running out the front door didn’t seem like the right move either.

A noise thumped against the solid double front doors. The beep of a disconnected phone line bleated in her ear. She’d messed up the number Hailey had written. Calling 911 would’ve been better. But Hailey and Jonathan were specific. Amelia had to use their special phone number and silly list of words.

Amelia checked the numbers written on her forearm again and redialed. The door thumping stopped, but she couldn’t move. The phone line rang that time, but the call seemed very far away, and it rang and rang and rang.

CHAPTER THREE

Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates

A pint-sized growl reverberated from under the war room table. Camden Brooks half-heartedly hid his smile as a dog bone the size of an armored vehicle pressed against his boot.

Jared “Boss Man” Westin leveled Camden with a look that could have bowled over a brick wall. “Something I said amusing?”

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