Trouble Walks In (20 page)

Far from it.

He looked like he wanted to rip Drummond to shreds.

“Right.” Drummond backed up, and sweat beaded on his forehead. “Look, I was only messin' around a little, Maddy. Jeez, does your boyfriend sic this dog on anyone who pisses him off?”

“Good-bye, Chris,” Maddy said quietly.

The guests were staring at Drummond and he knew it. He smoothed the lapels of his jacket and laughed nervously as he backed away from Bowser.

“Your clients better watch out, or your cop boyfriend and his mutt will make trouble for you. That's
real nice
, Maddy. Cosmopolitan Realty has the NYPD in their pocket. Are you on the payroll, pal?”

“It's time for you to go,” Ronan said. “I'm not on the payroll, but even if I were, I'd throw your ass out for free.”

“Screw off,” Drummond huffed.

He waved his arm toward Ronan, and a guttural growl erupted from Bowser. Someone in the crowd shrieked. Bowser lunged a foot closer and barked ferociously at Drummond, who looked like he was going to piss himself.

“Hold!” Ronan shouted. He held one hand out, with his palm toward Bowser. “Hold, partner.”

The dog froze but kept his brown eyes intent on Drummond. The dog's upper lip lifted, and his mouthful of teeth was visible as a low growl continued to rumble in the air.

For a split second, Maddy feared that it was going to be a full-fledged brawl. Her fears eased back when Drummond mumbled something incoherent and left the apartment with impressive speed. A collective sigh of relief rose from the crowd, audible even above the music, when Bowser sat at Ronan's feet.

“Good boy,” she whispered. Maddy scratched the dog's ears before giving Ronan a strained smile.

The beginnings of a mass exodus had already begun.

“I guess the party's over,” she said quietly.

“You're better off,” Ronan scoffed.

Maddy squared her shoulders and leveled an
Are you crazy
look in his direction.

“What?” he asked innocently. “You disagree?”

“These are my clients, Ronan.” She kept her voice barely above a whisper. “Don't you get it? This scene with Drummond could cost me more than a blown party. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised to get emails from Gregory and others telling me they want to terminate their contracts with me.”

“Would that be so bad?” Ronan rose to his full height and stared her down. “You don't need this crap, Mads. You're better than this city and these people. You deserve better. Is this really where you want to be for the rest of your life?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Shit. I thought maybe…” Ronan ran one hand over his face. “Forget it. This isn't the time to talk about it.”

“Ronan…wait a minute.”

“Your
clients
are coming for you.” He snapped his fingers and Bowser hopped to his feet. “Come on, man. Let's get some air.”

As Ronan and Bowser made their way to the door, the Weinsteins came over and were the first to say their good-byes. Maddy put on her best smile and apologized profusely, but before long, everyone else was lined up behind them. Except for Mr. Gregory, who had made a stealthy exit right after Drummond.

So much for that client
.

By the time everyone had left and the caterers had packed up, it was well past midnight and Ronan still hadn't returned. The apartment was emptier than it had ever been.

There was a better than good chance that her business was going to suffer a serious hit. Public displays of emotion like that were déclassé, after all. The community of the ultrarich in the city was small and incestuous, and the story of what happened tonight would spread like wildfire.

But she didn't even care.

All she could think about was Ronan, and the fact that he hadn't come back. Wrapping herself in her NYPD sweatshirt, Maddy curled up on the couch. She stared at the digital clock on the cable box, waiting for the merciful gift of sleep to claim her.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and before long, she could barely keep them open. Through the fog of impending sleep, she heard the sound of her front door opening.

Maddy smiled sleepily and nestled into the ultrasoft pillows of the couch. Ronan was finally home. She went to roll onto her back, but something sharp pinched her thigh, like the sting of a bee or a wasp. She yelped, swatting at her bare leg.

“What the hell?” Maddy squinted against the light from the foyer and saw only the dark silhouette of a man. “Ronan?”

Her vision blurred, and she rubbed at her eyes, but it didn't help. In fact, it only got worse. She could see just enough of the faceless dark figure to realize it wasn't Ronan.

It wasn't Ronan, and she wasn't just sleepy. Wooziness took over, and her limbs grew heavy. Then the darkness swallowed her.

Ronan knew he'd acted like a punk kid, storming out of the party like that, but he'd had to get the hell out of there before he lost it and made things worse for Maddy. It was bad enough that he'd almost punched that asshole out, but then Bowser had practically gone Cujo in front of all those stiffs.

That was quite a party trick. Nice move, McGuire.

All he'd wanted to do was get rid of all those people and have Maddy to himself. He'd planned on proposing to her and starting the New Year off the right way. But as the night wore on, his insecurities had taken full hold. What if she said no? What if she realized he wasn't good enough for her and couldn't keep up in her circles?

Deep in his gut, Ronan knew it was nerves that had him on edge, not the stiffs at the party. It wasn't every day he decided to spend the rest of his life with someone, and he was feeling impatient. He wanted the rest of their lives to start as soon as possible, but instead, he'd flown off the handle and split. So much for his grand plan of proposing on New Year's Eve.

By the time he'd walked off his frustration, it was almost one in the morning. Going back to Maddy's place would only wake her up. The whole night was screwed, and all because he was so damn nervous he didn't know what to do with himself. He probably should have gone back, but he went home and sent her a text apology instead, promising a face-to-face grovel session in the morning.

When he woke up to find she hadn't responded, he wasn't particularly surprised. She was pissed at him and had every right to be. He had behaved badly and he knew it. Ronan owed her an apology, and he figured that donuts and coffee might help.

He rang the bell of her apartment twice, but there was no answer. That was odd. She didn't have to work today. Maybe she was still asleep? Bowser snorted his impatience and sat by the door.

“I know, buddy.”

Ronan balanced the coffee tray and bag of donuts in one hand before trying the doorknob. To his dismay, it turned easily. The woman didn't lock her apartment? Ronan swore under his breath and opened the door, holding it so Bowser could pass. Even before it swung shut behind him, he sensed something was off.

The apartment was eerily quiet.

“Maddy?”

He strode into the living room but it was empty. Some remnants of the party were strewn on the counter, but for the most part, everything had been cleaned up. Ronan set the donuts and coffee on the dining table and kept calling her. She wasn't in the bathroom or the office, and her bed was made. Not only that, but her cell phone was plugged in on her nightstand.

“What the hell?”

Ronan went back into the living room and scanned the space carefully. Her keys were in the bowl on the sofa table, and her enormous purse still sat on the table in the foyer. He checked the hall closet and her coat was there. A feeling of foreboding crept up his back as he walked around the living room one more time.

“I don't like this, man,” he said quietly. “Something's wrong.”

Ronan grabbed Bowser's leash and went back downstairs. He checked with the doorman and the concierge. Neither of them had seen Maddy since they came on shift at seven that morning. With his concern increasing, Ronan took the elevator down to the building's parking garage and found Maddy's car parked in her assigned spot.

“Where the hell is she?” he whispered.

He went back up to Maddy's apartment and took yet another look around. Her wallet was there, and so were cash, credit cards, and an ATM card. It was like the woman had just disappeared without a trace, which didn't make any damn sense at all. The knot of fear in his gut started to tighten.

“No way.” He shook his head and stared at Bowser, who looked as concerned as Ronan felt. “Maybe she went to our place?”

Even as he suggested it, Ronan knew it wasn't true. But with few other options, he and Bowser headed out. All the way home, he went over and over the evidence in his head. How far would she get without her ID, money, credit cards, car, and keys?

Ronan had been a cop long enough to know that time was the enemy when someone disappeared. Officially, he would have to wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing person report. But that didn't mean he couldn't look for her on his own.

As he'd feared, Maddy was not waiting for him at his apartment. He called Sharon, and even Jordan, but they hadn't heard from her. Her offices were closed, and when he called, he got the Happy New Year message. The woman had seemingly vanished without a trace, but Ronan knew better than anyone—that didn't happen.

People don't disappear. They either leave, or they get taken.

There was no in between.

That was the problem.

By all the evidence, Maddy hadn't
left
.

With all of the rational possibilities exhausted, Ronan decided that he and Bowser would do what they did best. He gathered Bowser's search gear and headed back to Maddy's place. When the elevator reached her floor, he paused and glanced at 15B. Maybe the kid had seen or heard something that would shed some light on the situation.

Ronan knocked on the door and waited with Bowser at his side, but there was no answer. He rang the bell and knocked two more times, but still nothing. Maybe the kid had made a New Year's resolution and actually left the house?

“That's perfect timing,” Ronan grumbled. “Where's a shut-in when you need him?”

He put a call in to the feds handling the West Side Ringer case, on the terrifying chance that Maddy's disappearance could be related. But with no proof and her disappearance only a few hours old, he had limited options. That asshole Drummond came to mind, but he didn't seem like the guy. He'd been a coward, a blowhard with balls when he was in front of a crowd, but once confronted, he'd shown himself for the chickenshit that he was. Besides, he'd ended up making a scene.

The West Side Ringer, and guys like him, didn't make scenes in public. They flew under the radar, and that wasn't Drummond. That jerkoff loved attention.

Ronan went back to Maddy's apartment and got the dress she had been wearing at the party. It was on the hanger on her closet door, and even as he took it down to use it as a scent article for Bowser, he fought to maintain some distance.

Panic, anger, and outright fear fired through his chest.

He simply could not lose her.

“Do the job, McGuire.” Ronan squared his shoulders. “Cut the shit, and do your job.”

A knock on the apartment door captured his attention, and hope fired through him. Dress in hand, he ran to the foyer, Bowser at his side. When he opened the door, it was only Vincent, the concierge.

“Hey, Vincent.” Ronan nodded tightly. “Any news?”

“No, Officer.” The concierge clasped his hands behind his back. “I spoke with the men who were on duty last night, and neither of them saw Ms. Morgan leave the building. All of her guests signed in and out, as per protocol, including the catering staff from her party. I'm sorry, sir.”

“No, that's okay.” Ronan stared at the dress in his hand. “That's more information that will help us. We know she didn't leave the building. Her car is still downstairs.”

“And I checked the key-card records for the garage, sir.” Vincent's mouth set in a grim line. “A resident has to swipe their key card to get in and out. Ms. Morgan's card hasn't been used since she returned from vacation.”

“Alright. Bowser and I are going to do a sweep of the building, see if we can at least figure out what direction she went.” Ronan's voice was tight and controlled. “No one, and I mean
no one
, is permitted on this floor. Do you understand me? And if anyone comes looking for Maddy, I want you to call me ASAP. You continue to make sure everyone signs in and out. I don't want anyone slipping past.”

“Yes, sir.” Vincent nodded quickly. “I have your card at the front desk.”

“Good.”

Ronan shoved his desperate frustration aside and squatted down, giving Bowser a good, long sniff of Maddy's dress. The dog snuffled away, and his tail wagged as he got a solid dose. After being sure Bowser had enough, Ronan placed the dress on the hall table and stood in the open doorway.

Vincent stood by the elevator and watched with a wide-eyed stare that told Ronan he was impressed and a bit scared of what was happening.

Ronan held the apartment door open for Bowser and gave him the command. The dog stuck his nose to the ground and moved out into the hallway and then back into the apartment before heading to the elevator.

“Okay, boy.” Ronan patted Bowser's head, and the dog barked at the closed elevator doors. Ronan kept his voice calm and struggled to do this by the numbers. “That's a good start. We know she didn't go down the emergency stairwell but took the elevator. That narrows our search right away.”

“What now?” Vincent hit the elevator button again, but kept his wary gaze on Bowser.

“Now we stop at every single floor.” As Ronan wrapped the leash around his hand, fury settled in his chest. “We start at the roof and work our way down. Bowser will know when we find the floor where she got off.”

Vincent came with them, and it all played out exactly as Ronan said. They stopped at every floor. But each time the doors opened, Bowser would sniff briefly before whining and going back in the elevator. Disappointment rose with each passing floor, and Ronan fought the tickle of panic.

There was no sign of her.

Until they got to the garage.

When the doors opened, Bowser touched his nose to the ground and then took off like a shot with a bone-chilling howl. Nose to the ground, tail in the air, and hackles raised, he had picked up her scent, and it was strong. Ronan ran with him, and Vincent followed, though he lagged behind. They rounded a corner by a large pillar until they came to an empty parking space, and Ronan's heart sank. Bowser howled and barked, agitated by having reached the end of the trail, and Ronan didn't blame him.

“Whose parking space is this?” Ronan shouted. He snapped his head around and glared at Vincent. “Whose is it?”

“Um…I'm not sure, but I think it belongs to Mr. Reinhold.” Vincent swiped at his sweaty brow and left a dark stain on his gray jacket sleeve. “Thomas Reinhold. He's Ms. Morgan's neighbor in 15B.”

“Son of a bitch,” Ronan whispered. “The computer guy?”

“Yes,” Vincent sputtered. “He invented some kind of security software. I-I'm not sure. I mean, I don't know about that sort of thing, sir.”

Rage surged as Ronan recalled the conversation with Jenkins about the perp using technology to cover his tracks. Holy shit.

That dorky kid with the glasses was the West Side Ringer.

And Maddy was his next victim.

* * *

The thick smell of damp air and mold assaulted Maddy's senses as she emerged from the fog of the blackout. Her entire body ached like she had run a marathon through a sea of molasses. She was sitting on a cold, bare, wooden floor. Her head felt heavy, as if a blistering headache was brewing. She blanched and squinted against the sunlight that streamed in through the partially covered window. From what little she could see of the faintly amber light, Maddy got the impression the sun was setting. A black or brown curtain riddled with holes kept out most of the light, but there was enough for her to get an idea of her surroundings.

Fear crawled beneath her skin when she realized her wrists were tied to an old, rusty radiator. Maddy lifted her head and whimpered as a wave of nausea came over her. Panic threatened to consume her, but she knew that would get her nowhere.

How long had she been here? Hours? Days?

Calm. She had to stay calm and look at her surroundings.

She was still wearing the sweatshirt and her bra and underwear. A thin, musty green blanket had been placed over her legs but had started to slide off, allowing the damp, cold air to creep over her. The room looked like it was in an old cabin of some kind, and other than a small chair by the door, it was practically barren.

This couldn't be real. She was still asleep on the couch, and this was only a nightmare.
Wake up, Maddy. Wake up.
She tugged on the nylon ropes that bound her wrists, but they wouldn't budge. Pain shot through her hands. She swallowed the scream that began to bubble up when the realization struck home.

This was not a nightmare. She was awake and in trouble.

Wind whistled outside and snow flew by the window, but the light seemed to be fading by the minute. Maddy could see branches bouncing amid swirls of white, but that was it.

It all started to come back to her.

She had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Ronan, but a man had been in her apartment. The spot on her left thigh tingled, a twisted reminder of the stinging pain that had awakened her. That man, whoever he was, must have drugged her and brought her here.

But where the hell was she?

She thought of Lucille and Brenda, Yolanda and Patricia, and a sob escaped her lips. Maddy tugged again on the ropes, but they wouldn't budge. Her skin stung from the ties scraping mercilessly against her.

It was no use.

The sound of something—or someone—moving on the other side of the crooked door made her freeze. Footsteps, faint at first, grew closer, and she thought she heard someone whispering. Or maybe that was her imagination?

Sweat broke out all over her body. She shivered and bit her lip, fighting the urge to scream. What good would that do her? They must have been miles from any other cabins. Otherwise her kidnapper would have gagged her, wouldn't he? Screaming wouldn't help, and if this son of a bitch hurt women, then he would probably get off on hearing Maddy in pain.

Her heart thundering in her chest, she squirmed against the restraints, but there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide. No way out.

The man who intended to kill her was on the other side of that door.