Chapter 4

The Wedding Knot event center was a dump—it was more like the Wedding Not—and Ryder couldn't imagine anyone Langley knew getting married here. Grime covered the building, and the parking lot was a disaster. The dust being kicked up over the Explorer was proof of that. They parked next to the Jeep, and as he was taking in more detail, Armstrong checked out a red Nissan.

"They're gonna pop the trunk," Griff reported. "Am I the only one who thinks that's an interesting assumption?"

"Not if there's a threat we don't know about," Rowland offered.

"That would explain the dude's intensity at the house," Mako said.

Ryder climbed out of the Explorer and headed over to the sedan. He scanned the vehicle and the trunk, but he didn't see anything helpful. "Your fiancée's car?" Without waiting for an answer, he glanced over at the two-story building. "They disappeared from in there?"

"Apparently," Armstrong said.

Fuck yeah, Rowland had read it right. The man was too wound up for the bride to have taken off of her own volition, not even if she was hiding from him. It only made sense if there was a threat against Sarah—and because Langley was with the woman—that meant she was facing an additional risk, one Ryder knew shit-all about. And since nobody was volunteering any intel, he was trying to put together puzzle pieces in the dark. He had to force his jaw to relax.

His teammates had followed him out of the SUV and taken positions to watch his back. He rejoined them and filled them in, using the team's shorthand. Neither Armstrong nor the suit needed to know what he was sharing. Still in their coded language, he added an order to put a tracker on the Jeep. Something was up and Ryder wanted any edge he could get.

Rowland nodded, but before Ryder could say anything else, Jonah Griffin whistled low enough that no one else would hear. "You're right, this Sarah lady definitely didn't run out on her wedding. Dude is amped." He inclined his head slightly to indicate Sarah's fiancé stalking across the parking lot to the building.

"So is Ski," Mako pointed out and Ryder shot him a look.

"Yeah," Griff agreed, "but our dude is hiding it better."

"He is now," Mako corrected.

Muttering a curse, Ryder strode toward the Wedding Knot, leaving his teammates behind. Honest to God, he was closer to them than he was to his own brothers, but occasionally they annoyed the shit out of him. Besides, he didn't have time for this. He was sticking close to Armstrong until he knew what was going on. It didn't surprise him when Stony caught up and fell into step beside him.

"They're only trying to lighten things up. You're tight."

"I know that." Ryder didn't have the fucking patience for it. After he had Langley safely stashed away they could joke around, but not now.

Maybe Rowland picked up on his tension because he said, "We don't know what the fuck is going on here, remember that."

"Yeah, but when was the last time you assumed a missing bride was in the trunk of a car?" No response. "Don't bullshit me, Stone Man. The stakes are too high."

They reached the entrance to the building. He pulled open the door and stepped into chaos. It looked like the Navy SEALs were about to have their own civil war—the two they'd met against about a dozen others.

Before anyone threw a punch, a man with black hair and dark eyes stepped in and icily, efficiently took control. The ranking officer had clearly not been invited to the wedding, not when he wore faded jeans, a gray T-shirt, and work boots, but he had the respect of everyone in the room.

The presence of this many guests suggested a couple things. Number one, the ceremony wasn't scheduled for this evening. No one showed up that many hours before a wedding. Which led to point two—the man who'd claimed he was Mitch Armstrong had been lying. No way was the groom wearing running clothes when it was clearly a morning service, but who the fuck was the guy and what was his connection to the bride's disappearance?

Ryder and Rowland stayed near the entrance to the chapel, their backs against the wall, and watched. He hated waiting—fucking loathed it—but the only other option was to drive around San Diego aimlessly, and that would waste more time. Especially when they didn't have the full picture of what the hell was happening. He could be patient if it meant getting to Langley sooner rather than later.

"We got hold of Mitch," the suit said, face and voice cold.

Ryder shared a glance with Stony, but it only confirmed what he'd guessed—the runner wasn't the groom.

The suit guy continued, "Looks like he's ass deep in some heavy shit. He owes money. Sarah and her bridesmaid were taken to expedite payment."

"Mitch has no intention of paying the ransom," the runner said. "Hell, he's probably in the wind by now."

Rowland's hand landed on his shoulder, stopping Ryder before he could do more than take a single step forward. Yeah. They'd get more info by not barging into the middle of this. At least not yet. When he nodded, Stony released him.

Tempers flared again, and the ranking officer said, "Stand down." His voice was hard and brooked no disobedience. "Fill me in," he ordered.

The details Ryder heard the runner report had nothing to do with Langley, or where the women might be, and everything to do with what an asshole Armstrong was. His hellcat had the best instincts he'd ever seen when it came to sizing up people fast. She'd nailed the groom's sleaziness after one short phone call.

Ryder jerked his full attention back to the conversation when he heard the officer in jeans ask, "Taggart, did he say who this associate was or what they were into?"

"No. Sounds like the business associate is asking for half a mil." Taggart—AKA the runner—thrust a hand through his hair. "Hell, Mitch's accomplice may not even be behind the girl's disappearance. Mitch never said he'd actually talked to the guy. And we ran into a protective detail while checking out Sarah's house. The team leader isn't saying much, but he did drop the news that Langley—the bridesmaid's father—assigned them because someone threatened her."

He'd admitted nothing about a threat, but Ryder wasn't surprised Taggart had figured it out. It didn't matter anyway. What did matter was that Langley and her friend were missing, and he was aware now that their purses and cell phones had been left behind. He didn't know about Sarah, but Langley was obsessively detail-oriented. There was no way in hell she'd forgotten her bag, and she wouldn't have allowed her friend to leave hers behind either.

Rowland nudged him back to the conversation as the officer asked, "You called Rio in?"

The suit nodded. "He's in route. "

Who the fuck was Rio?

"We've already lost an hour." The officer turned to the wedding guests. "Canvass the neighborhood. Someone must have seen something. Check with shops, cafés, banks—any place that might have video of the surrounding area." He turned back to Taggart. "Rio will bring his own people in, but at least we'll have some of the legwork done for them."

As the men began to leave, Ryder's position as bystander ended. The officer raised his voice and asked, "You the security detail Lieutenant Taggart mentioned?"

The liar was a lieutenant? Ryder shot Taggart an irritated glare as he walked past him, then turned to the officer running the show, and held out his hand. "Ryder Pienkowski." He didn't have to glance over to know that Stony had hung with him. He gestured toward his teammate with his chin. "Finn Rowland."

The man shook both of their hands. "Devlin Russo, and you've met Brett Taggart and Lucas Trammel."

Or as Ryder thought of them, the runner and the suit. In the next instant, something else Langley had said on the way to the airport popped into his brain. When Sarah was dating this Brett guy, she talked about him constantly. Had to be the same man. Looked like the bride's ex was carrying a serious torch for her.

Russo's gaze turned assessing and Ryder put Langley out of his mind. The inquisition was coming and he needed to be sharp. "Where you out of?" the man asked.

And here we go, Ryder thought. He glanced over at Stony, but his face was perfectly expressionless. "MacDill," Ryder said.

Those dark eyes studied them and only years in a covert ops unit gave him the experience it took to hold steady under the regard. "You with MARCENT?" Russo asked at last, wanting to know if they were marines.

Ryder glanced over at Rowland, and without so much as a flick of his eyes, he knew his buddy was warning him to tread carefully. Like he didn't fucking know that. Shit. He ran a hand over his hair and down his neck before letting it drop to his side. They hadn't reached the classified part yet. "Army Special Forces," he said slowly.

"No shit," Taggart said, face and voice neutral. "Green Beret? Is it true you boys kill with sticky notes?"

Russo shot the lieutenant a look hard enough to shut the man up and then focused on him again. Great. "Far as I know Army Special Forces aren't stationed out of MacDill. They're out of Elgin," he said with a frown .

Ryder shrugged. It wasn't as if he could reveal that his team had been moved to MacDill Air Force Base to focus entirely on covert ops missions in South America or that the majority of their assignments were in Puerto Jardin. He waited for the next question, the one he couldn't answer, but Russo surprised him.

"Who's your C.O.?"

"Captain Nguyen," Ryder said.

The man gave them another once over, and Ryder doubted that his gaze missed a thing. He almost blew out a long breath when Russo relaxed slightly. "How'd you get stuck with a baby-sitting detail?" he asked.

"Langley is the daughter of Ambassador Canfield." Ryder was as careful now as he'd been when he'd talked about his team being at MacDill. "The ambassador recently received some threats against his family. Since we're on leave, he asked us to sit on her until the threats were assessed."

"Why you and not the feds?" Trammel asked.

Ryder shrugged. "We had dealings with the family last year. Apparently, Ms. Canfield is allergic to bodyguards. Her father thought she might be more comfortable with men she knew and trusted."

Recognition flashed across Russo's face. "You're part of the team that rescued her from the rebels in Puerto Jardin, aren't you? "

The sound of footsteps stopped the conversation cold. He eased back—enough to be out of the spotlight, but not enough to miss any details. Ryder could feel Stony staring at him, and reluctantly he looked over. "What's so fucking funny?" he growled quietly.

"Ms. Canfield? You've never addressed her that politely in your life, not from the moment you grabbed her out of that shack in the rainforest."

The newcomer reached the front of the chapel and Ryder settled for glaring at his teammate, but he cut that short when the guy asked, "Either woman show up?"

It was Trammel who answered. "No. Their purses and cell phones are in the bridal suite. Sarah's car is in the parking lot. No sign of the two women anywhere."

The man scowled, his attention moving to Russo. "I saw a bunch of your boys out canvassing the neighborhood. I hope to hell you're not planning on launching your own investigation into this situation."

Cop? Fed? As Trammel filled the guy in on what they knew, Ryder guessed cop. The FBI was more buttoned up than this man, Rio.

The dude looked frustrated when the briefing finished. "Let me get this straight," Rio said. "We have two missing girls. Two separate threats. And no clue whether they're actually missing, or whether the bride got cold feet and fled in someone else's car. Hell, you don't even know for sure if the girls were taken. They could have left with someone they knew."

No fucking way.

"Without their purses or cell phones? Without letting anyone know what they were doing?" Taggart beat him to the punch, but Ryder nodded his agreement and moved next to the lieutenant to present a united front to the cop.

Two of the men who'd been sent out to gather intel were hurrying back, and his stomach cartwheeled. Ryder knew they didn't have good news.

"Sir," one of them said, his gaze locking on Russo. "The coffee shop next door has video of the two women being forced into a car at gunpoint."