"I know what it is," Nathan said. "Her mother was awful, and so was her ex. The fact that she's a functioning member of society is a testament to her strength."

"I trust your judgment about anyone's character, you know that. But I can't let you f.u.c.k up your career over a woman."

"I'm being careful."

"You're going to slip. It's inevitable."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"There's only one option." Chris polished off his eggs and started on the bacon.

"I'm not abandoning her."

"Did I say that?"

"Then what?"

"Snake turned up in the system yet?"

"Nothing," Nathan said.

"So he's either dead or in the drains somewhere."

"What's your point?"

"For a genius, you're as dumb as a rock sometimes," Chris said. "If we can find Snake, we have a shot at the Taker."

"Ronson's on it."

"She going back into the tunnels? Because that's where he'll be."

"Not yet. She wants to canva.s.s the jails and streets."

Chris raised an eyebrow. Nathan finally realized what he was getting at.

"You want to search the tunnels for Snake."

"Think of it as a field trip." Chris grinned. "Even if we don't find him, we'll see all sorts of new and exciting things."

"I've seen enough of the tunnels to last a lifetime."

"Snake's your best chance. And since the Taker planned to hide Emilie in the tunnels, getting to know them might not be a bad idea."

A chill settled over Nathan at his friend's implication. "All right. We'll go back in."

Leaving her car had been so stupid. Emilie's late afternoon pity-party yesterday had landed her in a cab that reeked of sun-dried leather and stale vomit. The vehicle's shocks were non-existent, and her cabbie managed to hit every pothole, sending the tremors straight to her pounding head.

"You want off in front of the bank?"

"In the parking lot, please. I need to check on my car-the white Impala."

He swung sharply into the lot and bounced hard off a speed b.u.mp. "That it?"

"Yeah." Emilie dug into her wallet.

"Looks like you got a ticket."

Her hand paused in midair. She had a parking pa.s.s. "Keep the change."

"Thanks." He looped around the lot and beat a path to the street.

Dread flashed through her as she approached the car. Stuck underneath her driver's side windshield wiper, a piece of ordinary notebook paper fluttered in the gentle breeze. Her futile hope for a solicitor's flyer was dashed by the neat handwriting peeking out from the folded paper.

Claire must have come back. What other gems had she left for Emilie?

Emilie s.n.a.t.c.hed the letter and began to read.

Your pain is my pain. To watch your misery and not be able to intervene was torturous. Dearest Miss Emilie, you are a delicate flower that must be lovingly nurtured, tended to each day with kindness and adoration. Your mother never saw your immense worth. But I do, my sweet. Every day. Do not fret. Everything will be as it should very soon.

"Oh, my G.o.d." Emilie leaned against the car ignoring the hot sting of metal that had been cooking in the sun. He'd been right there when she'd argued with Claire. Had the Taker been close enough to touch?

"I'll never escape him." The taste of salty tears landed on her upper lip.

This would be the rest of her life until he chose to end it. Emilie was nothing but a p.a.w.n in his sick game.

She caught sight of herself in the driver's window: a pale, thin face with dark circles underneath wide, frightened eyes. Cheeks soaked with tears and lips trembling in defeat.

Why didn't the Taker just get it over with? He could s.n.a.t.c.h her now if he wanted to. She was alone in the parking lot. But no, he would rather toy with her, manipulating her until he'd grown bored.

She couldn't live like this anymore. Nathan was foolish to think there was any chance of catching the Taker, and Emilie was stupid to believe she and Nathan had any real shot at a future. That would be s.n.a.t.c.hed away before they had a chance to begin.

Emilie glared at her reflection. Her face scrunched as a fresh onslaught of tears started. You weak b.i.t.c.h. She smacked her hands against the window. Standing out here crying like a G.o.dd.a.m.ned, simpering damsel in distress. You're just going to curl up in a ball and let the Taker win, just like you did with Evan. Nothing has changed.

Not this time, little coward. She stepped back and mopped off her face. You're going to stand up for yourself instead of letting the bad guy walk all over you. You're not giving up. Not this time.

A loud thump behind Emilie quelled her outburst. Fear gripped her as she realized she wasn't alone. Then, the anger returned. "Is that you hiding again, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d? Don't you have the b.a.l.l.s to talk to me like a normal human being?"

She moved toward the direction of the noise and reached for her cellphone. She scrolled to Agent Ronson's number.

Another thump, this one louder. Emilie was certain it had come from the other side of the Mazda parked three cars away from her own.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are. Let's end this today."

The thumping increased, the frantic sound of something hitting metal. She paused at the Mazda. The noise was definitely coming from the rear driver's side, near the dumpster.

Emilie took a deep breath and hit send. Then she ran around the side of the car, ready for the fight of her life. "Let's see what you've got face to face, you son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h."

A gray pigeon squawked and flew away, abandoning the candy bar it had been trying to wedge out of a drain.

She'd been screaming at a bird.

A woman shouted her name. Emilie held the phone up to her ear. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Emilie. What's going on? Who are you shouting at?"

"No one."

A fat cloud eased itself over the sun. A shiver rocketed through Emilie. The Taker was here somewhere, watching. She knew it.

"Do you need me to come get you?" Ronson asked. "Has something happened?"

"The Taker left a note on my car."

"Where are you?"

"Work."

"Get inside. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Emilie hung up and dialed a second number. Consequences be d.a.m.ned, she needed Nathan by her side.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

Nathan whipped the Camry into an empty spot. Crime scene techs surrounded Emilie's car dusting for fingerprints. He flashed his badge at an officer and hurried into the bank.

A tall, rail-thin blond woman greeted him. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Emilie Davis."

The woman's expression turned sour. "She's with the cops."

"You must be Lisa."

"Now how did you know that?" She batted her mascara-coated eyelashes.

"That's my job." Nathan showed her his badge. "Where's Emilie?"

"President's office." Lisa jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

Emilie sat on a brown leather couch, holding a styrofoam cup. A pudgy man with red cheeks and thinning blonde hair sat next to her. Avery stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest.

Every head in the room swiveled to the door as Nathan entered.

"Madigan, what the h.e.l.l?" Avery demanded.

"I asked him to come." Emilie's face flushed.

"Really? That's an interesting development."

"It's the least of our concerns," Ronson said. "Focus on the case, Avery."

Nathan sat down on Emilie's other side, forcing himself not to take her into his arms.

"Are you all right?"

"I screamed at a pigeon."

"What if it had been the Taker?" the pudgy man asked. "Em, you can't just go off half-c.o.c.ked. This man is dangerous."

"I'm aware of that, Jeremy," Emilie snapped. "I wasn't thinking clearly."

So this was her boss. He didn't fit Nathan's image of a bank president, with his cheap suit and scuffed shoes. Then again, the man had a family. His life probably wasn't cheap. Worry etched into every wrinkle on Jeremy's chubby face.

"Of course you weren't," Jeremy said. "You just need to be careful. The Taker isn't going to give up easily."

"You're sure it's from the Taker and not a sick joke?" Nathan asked.

"He referred to me as Miss Emilie. No one else would know that."

"Unless it was his accomplice doing his dirty work," Avery said.

"Doubtful," Ronson said. "That's too intimate, something he's only going to share with Emilie. He left the note, but I'm sure we won't lift any fingerprints."

"Cameras?" Nathan asked.

"I looked at the videos as soon as Emilie told me what happened," Jeremy said. "Just before four a.m., a masked figure left the note. Looked like a man, but there's no way to tell for sure."

"Our techs will a.n.a.lyze the footage frame by frame," Ronson said. "But I'm not expecting anything."

"So what's your plan?" Nathan's voice rose. "We're twiddling our thumbs while he gets closer and closer to her."

"Maybe you should just shack up at her place," Avery sneered. "Surely you wouldn't mind."

"You're out of line, Dalton."

"So are you, Madigan. Fraternizing with someone involved in an open case? Is the action worth the risk to your reputation?"

Nathan jumped to his feet and crossed the room in two strides. "Listen, a.s.shole. Putting me down is one thing, but you're supposed to be on Emilie's side. Leave her out of it."