Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

Heidi Myers balanced a bag of groceries on her hip as she unlocked the door to her townhouse. As the wind swept inside behind her, bringing with it an autumn chill and a smattering of rain, she quickly shoved the door closed.

Thunder shook the house as she did.

That was some storm raging out there. The wind howled, and rain poured from the sky like a never-ending waterfall.

But now, Heidi was back home, where she could dry off, warm up, and make herself a nice dinner.

She let her purse slide off her shoulder to the floor, reached for the light switch beside her, and flipped it.

Nothing happened.

She frowned.

Had the storm somehow knocked out the electricity?

That would just be her luck. She'd find her way to the kitchen and put her groceries down. Then she'd figure out the power situation.

However, she had really been looking forward to some chicken alfredo tonight. An electrical outage might thwart her plans.

She started through her living room when the hair on her neck rose.

Something in the air felt different. But what? Was it just the storm?

Or . . . what if the power wasn't out because of the storm?

Cold fear spread through her.

Now that she thought about it, the streetlight was on outside. And she'd seen her neighbor's lights on, had seen them seated at the dinner table together. But with her curtains closed, no light shone inside to guide her steps other than a dull gray from the transom over her front door.

Her muscles tensed as her adrenaline kicked in.

Maybe she was overthinking this. That was probably it. Considering what she did for a living, she often felt on edge.

Things had been even more stressful lately. That was why she'd been looking forward to tonight so much. She desperately wanted the chance to relax and unwind. To forget about her boss's demands.

More thunder shook the house.

She quickened her steps and made it to the kitchen. She flipped the light switch there.

Still nothing.

Before she set the paper bag on the counter, a noise caught her ear.

Her refrigerator was still humming, she realized.

Her gaze went to the stove.

Blue illuminated numbers stared back at her from the clock there.

She still had electricity. So why didn't her lights work?

Shivers raced up her spine.

Then movement sounded in the distance.

The barely perceptible sound of footsteps crossing the sage-colored shag rug in her living room hit her.

The paper bag fell from her hands. Oranges rolled across the floor. Eggs cracked. Milk began to glug out through a crack in the plastic jug.

"Who's there?" Her voice trembled as she gripped the kitchen counter.

Did she have time to step back and grab a knife from the butcher block across the kitchen? She didn't think so.

"We need to talk," a deep voice said.

Her heart beat double time. "Who are you?"

She blinked, praying her eyes would adjust to the darkness.

But they didn't.

All she knew was that the voice sounded vaguely familiar.

Her mind raced as she tried to put together where she'd heard it before.

Then the truth hit her.

She did know that voice.

But her comfort only lasted a moment before terror filled her.

The man in her home was a cold-blooded, trained assassin.

A cold-blooded, trained assassin who'd recently gone rogue.

Stephen Garner rose from his seat in Heidi's house.

He'd been waiting twenty minutes for her to return home.

He hated to do things this way, but he had no other choice. He couldn't be seen talking to her. He couldn't be seen period.

No one could know about this conversation.

Which was why the first thing he'd done when he arrived was to check her place and make sure it wasn't bugged.

He'd found one camera and two listening devices. He'd destroyed them all.

Finding those things hadn't surprised him. When Heidi had accepted her current job, she'd had no idea what she was getting herself into. That was why he'd secretly been trying to watch out for her over the past few years.

He stepped closer to her shadowed figure, hating the fact he'd scared her so badly. "I just want to talk."

"Talk about what?" Her voice trembled.

"About your job."

"I . . . I can't talk about my job. Please. You're going to get me in trouble."

Even though it was dark, he sensed her anxiety. Saw the outline of movement as Heidi rubbed her hand across her chest as if to loosen the muscles.

He'd seen her do it before when she was nervous.

He'd noticed other things about her also. How she drank too much coffee. How that same coffee led her to use breath mints throughout the day. How she loved inspirational quotes and had them hung around her desk.

His intention hadn't been to scare her like this. If he had any better option, he would have taken it.

"I don't want to get you in trouble," he assured her. "That's why I made sure no one knows I'm here. So we could have this conversation in private."

She paused. Stopped rubbing her chest. Drew in a deep breath. Then said, "You're Stephen. Stephen Garner. Thirty-four years old. The guy who's always picked for the hardest assignments since you have both the brawn and the brains, which can be an unusual combination. Except when it comes to the people you work with. You're all exceptional. You're the best of the best."

In other circumstances, he might be flattered. Right now, he was definitely impressed.

He'd known it was a possibility Heidi would recognize his voice. But she'd done so quickly. She'd remembered all the other details faster than he'd thought she would as well.

"Since those formalities are out of the way, then I guess I can get down to business," he said. "I need to find Rafferty."

"Rafferty? I don't know where he is."

Stephen stepped closer. He sensed Heidi's nerves starting to rear up like a hot wire. He could practically hear her heart racing as if someone had pushed the fast-forward button.

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?" Stephen asked. "You're his righthand man. Or woman."

"I mean what I said," Heidi told him. "I have no idea where he might be right now."

He took another step closer. "He's your boss. How can you not know his whereabouts? His home address?"

"We mostly talk on the phone and only meet a few times a year." Her voice trembled. "He's very private."

"You mean you've worked for him for four years, and in all that time, you've never seen his address on any paperwork? Never been to a dinner at his place?"

"Have you? You worked for him for a long time. Longer than I have. Do you know where he lives? Have you been to his house?"

"Touché." She had an excellent point.

But this woman was Stephen's best chance of figuring out how to locate this man. Rafferty had gone dark over the past couple of weeks. He hadn't been seen or heard from.

Thunder cracked overhead, and Heidi jumped.

He studied her, unconvinced she was telling the entire truth. She had access to information others in the company didn't.

"You guys are trained security agents," Heidi said. "If you wanted to find him, why didn't you track him? Follow him home? Do something other than hassling me?"

"He's very careful to cover his tracks."

"Then I don't know why you think I'd know."

He took another step closer.

Heidi drew in a sharp breath, and her eyes widened as she took a step back, fear filling her gaze. "Please . . . don't hurt me."

His brow furrowed. "Why would I hurt you?"

"You're here. In my house. You did something to my lights. Now you're making demands. Please . . . I don't want to die."