Page 88 of Baited

Ethan fisted his hand into Michael’s shirt, lifted him off the ground, and slammed his back against the wall. Michael’s eyes bugged out of his head. His hands clawed at Ethan’s wrists. Ethan pulled him a few inches away from the wall, let him dangle in the air, and then banged him against the drywall.

Michael’s head flung back and the wall cracked above his head. He closed his eyes and grunted.

“I’m going to ask you this once before I tear your fucking lungs out. Where is she?” A deep calm settled through him. He had the bastard now and he’d beat the answers out of him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Don’t lie.” Ethan’s voice raised an octave.

The calm that had fallen around him shook. His fist tightened at Michael’s throat. He leaned closer so his nose hovered an inch away from Michael’s. “I found your cameras you dumb shit.”

“Look, I don’t know anything about any cameras. I’m a dentist and the furthest thing from tech savvy.”

“Then why are the cameras wired through your floor?”

“I don’t know, I swear. I’m not the only one who’s lived here. Check with the landlord if you don’t believe me.”

Ethan’s breath came out slow and even. His fury dipped. There was a possibility—a very small one—that he was telling the truth.

“Want to have a look around? I don’t care. I won’t ask for a warrant or anything.” Michael’s small, beady eyes never left his face. Ethan’s neck tensed.

He didn’t believe in coincidences. Michael had taken Riley and with the camera and bugs, they had enough proof to get awarrant. With that, they could pull his phone records including GPS locations and search his business.

He dropped Michael to his feet. Michael swallowed, took a deep breath, and his hand rubbed his throat.

“I want to help find Riley, believe me—”

“Save it.” Ethan brushed past him.

Nate whistled from the door. “Hope you don’t mind if I give him a hand.” A gun hung loosely in his fingers and his gaze swept around the floor.

Ethan nodded his appreciation at him and pulled his Glock out again.

“There’s no need for weapons.” Michael shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hand rubbed over the top of his short brown hair.

Yeah, right. There was no way in hell he was letting his guard down. Ethan lifted an eyebrow at him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

He moved away from Michael and stepped into the kitchen. He trailed his hand along the counter top. He glanced back at Michael, whose attention was riveted to Nate as he combed over the living room.

Ethan’s gaze fell to the floor. A long, sharp butcher knife lay on the linoleum. Warning bells screeched through his head. He forced his breath to slow, and bent down. He didn’t touch it.

“Drop a knife?”

Michael’s eyes snapped to Ethan, and then plummeted to the knife on the floor. “I must have…”

Ethan stood. “Right.” His voice hovered on hysteria and the muscles in his face tensed. Riley had been here. His senses tingled. He turned on his heel and stormed down the hallway.

“Riley!” he called. One bedroom sat at the end of the hall, the door slightly ajar. He shoved it open. The bed took up the center of the room, its neat dark blue bedding the only splash of color among the white walls and off-white carpet.

“Goddammit,” he breathed. She wasn’t here. He got down on his hands and knees and peered under the bed—nothing but a simple pair of slippers.

A soft whine sounded. His head shot up and his breath caught in his throat. He froze, his pulse drummed against his temples.

It sounded again. He got to his feet and pulled open the bi-fold closet door. A dog came out, swirling around his feet. He whined again. Ethan dropped to his knee and scratched him behind the ears. The long-haired chow huddled close to his leg.

“Hey, buddy. What were you doing in the closet?” Sad, big brown eyes stared up at him. His tongue came out to lick Ethan’s hand. “Can you tell me where she is, bud?” Ethan’s voice shook. His eyes burned and pain throbbed across his forehead.

The dog stood on all fours, shook his ears until Ethan stopped petting him, and whined again. Ethan frowned. He guided the dog away from the door with the back of his hand and leaned in. Dress shirts of various neutral colors lined the rod above his head, and dress slacks hung on the bottom row.

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