Page 66 of Owen

“I don’t have time to explain, but I need information that’s on Sophie’s laptop. Can you get it for me?”

“Headed to your cabin now,” she said, and he could hear running feet. She didn’t ask any questions, she just acted. She must have heard something in his voice that made her move quickly. “Do you know her password?” she asked. He rattled off the mix of letters and numbers that Sophie had shared with him. There was a pause of ten seconds before Luna declared. “I’m in. What do you need?”

“I’m trying to track her watch.”

“Let me see if it’s linked to her account.” There was an agonizingly long moment before Luna said, “Got it. I can see her location. Are you ready for the address?”

He was already back in his truck with the engine running. “Give it to me.” The address Luna gave him sounded familiar. He was pulling into traffic when he recognized it as one of the places they’d gone while following Mason’s GPS trail. It was an old building, originally meant for manufacturing.

“I’ll keep tracking the signal and let you know if it moves. Get her back, Owen,” Luna said before hanging up.

At a stoplight, Owen texted Ethan the address and told him to go there directly when he got into the area. He checked his watch. It would still be an hour before Ethan joined him, but Owen wasn’t sitting around and waiting backup. When he got to Sophie’s locale, he was going in, but he had to be smart about this, use his training and not get caught up in the emotions. If he thought about the personal stakes for him, he’d get distracted and risk screwing up. He couldn’t do that when Sophie and Micky were depending on him.

After driving past the building and seeing nothing, he parked the car on a side street a block away, planning to approach from the rear. Before leaving the car, he checked his weapon and put the one that he’d found in Sophie’s purse into his waistband. There was no such thing as too prepared. Quinn seemed to work alone, but he didn’t know that for sure.

He made his way through an alley until he reached the back of the building. He noticed fresh tire prints in the mud. Vehicles were stopping fairly regularly behind a supposedly abandoned place. Filing that information aside, he looked for a way in. The steel door with a chain across it didn’t look promising, so he moved around the side of the building and peered in a window.

It was difficult to see through the dirt and haze, but it appeared to be a large open space. Gingerly, he tried the window. It was stiff, but with enough force he raised it so he could shimmy through. He dropped onto the floor, rolled, and came up ready to fight. His adrenaline was pumping, but no one charged at him.

So he paused to listen. After a moment, he distinguished a man’s voice, a familiar voice. Micky.

“You shouldn’t have played Quinn’s game, Soph,” Micky said. “I’d have found a way to escape.”

“I wasn’t taking that chance,” Sophie said, and Owen breathed a huge sigh of relief. She was alive and able to talk. Now, he just had to get to her and Micky. Their voices seemed to be coming up a stairwell. He crept closer as their dialogue continued.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Sophie was saying, her voice calm and authoritative. She was playing this smart, which was buying him the time he needed. Owen was proud of her, even if he had no right to be since she wasn’t his. Yet.

“You’re not me. I’d never be stupid enough to get trapped like you did.” Another woman spoke. It had to be Quinn. So, they were finally going to meet in person. He had a beef to settle with her. Not only had she kidnapped the love of his life, but she had to be the one who’d shot at him at the country club.

“You could be making a stupid choice right now.” This time he caught the slightest tremble in Sophie’s words. If he didn’t know her so well, Owen would have missed it. He had to put together a rescue plan and fast, but he was working blind because he didn’t have eyes in the basement. He was going to have to take a chance and move in.

“I don’t think so,” Quinn said. “This knife links Wilson to Razor’s death.”

“Oh, I’m aware of that since I’m the one who found it next to Razor’s body. What I’m saying is that you might regret destroying that evidence,” Sophie warned.

“How so?” Quinn asked, sounding interested.

Since Sophie was keeping Quinn distracted and talking, it gave Owen the opportunity to creep down the stairs until he could see them. Sophie and Micky appeared to be tied to the wall while Quinn was standing at a table with the knife and cleaning supplies. He rapidly assessed his opponent. She carried herself like a fighter.

“Someday you might need leverage over Wilson,” Sophie suggested. “That knife with his fingerprints and Razor’s blood on it would give you that.” Quinn cocked her head, listening and thinking as Sophie continued. “Wilson’s not a nice guy. If he ever thinks you’re disloyal or if he’s just had enough of you, he’ll be looking to unload you. And you know how he got rid of his former lieutenant.” Sophie tilted her head to the knife still clutched in Quinn’s hand.

“Wilson won’t do that to me.” Quinn’s tone was dismissive.

“Maybe not, but how sure are you of that? If I worked for him, I’d want to keep something that I could hold over his head if the need arose. A blackmail item might come in handy.”

Quinn seemed to consider that for a moment before finally speaking. “No, it’s too risky to keep a murder weapon with DNA evidence on it, and I don’t take risks unless I’m damn sure they’ll pay off.”She quickly poured bleach over the length of the knife and wiped the blade and handle with a rough towel. She was focused on her actions, giving him the opportunity to make his move.

With his gun drawn, he strode into the circle of light, hoping that surprise and his weapon would be enough to catch her off guard. The last thing he wanted to do was discharge his gun in a basement. That would be far too dangerous. Ricochets were unpredictable, and he wouldn’t put Sophie and Micky at risk of catching a stray bullet.

Quinn caught sight of him and moved fast, faster than he could have anticipated. With the knife still in her hand, she lunged toward Sophie and held the still dripping wet blade to her throat.

Everything in him came to an instant halt. Sophie was helpless with her hands tied behind her back, but her eyes were on him, pleading with him to do something. He would, but he had to do this right.

Quinn glared at him. “Put your gun down, tough guy, or I’ll slit her throat.”

THIRTY-TWO

“Hurting her won’t help your cause,” Owen said as he lowered his weapon. He wasn’t putting it all the way down since he had to stay in command of this situation, and that meant not giving up his advantage.

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