“The guy you met today, the one who came down that trail we were on? That was my partner, Scott. We’ve worked together for two years. He’s practically my third brother now.” He paused, hoping she’d engage, that he could connect with her and get a real story about what had happened today.
“You have two brothers?” Her gaze went back to the photos, probably searching for someone with any kind of genetic similarity.
“You’ll never pick them out,” he said with a smile. “They’re my foster brothers. We look nothing alike. But we’re closer than blood.” Even after the fire that had destroyed their house, that had very nearly taken Marcos’s life, and had split them apart into separate foster homes, they’d managed to remain family.
“That’s nice,” she replied, and there it was again, that wistful tone.
“You’re not close to your family?”
“No. I grew up in boarding schools.” She said it without anger, just a hint of sadness.
Andre cringed. He only had a vague memory of his biological family, before they’d died in a boating accident when he was five. But that vague memory was tied up in his mother’s arms, holding him close; in his father’s voice, reading him stories. And he had five years of a true, brotherly bond with Cole and Marcos in his second foster home. But before and after that? He knew what it was like to feel all alone, to do his best to go unnoticed because that was the safest way.
He silently cursed. He was already sucked into those wide hazel eyes. He didn’t need any more reasons to feel tied to her, to protect her at all costs, even if she really belonged in jail. His gaze shifted to the bulge in her sweater where she’d stuffed the gun.
“Do you want to tell me what really happened today, Juliette? Who were those men after you?”
“I don’t know.”
He must have looked skeptical, because she immediately insisted, “I don’t know them. But I know who hired them. They had criminal records, right? Probably in Pennsylvania?”
He leaned forward. “How did you know that?”
Her face pinched. “Because my ex-husband hired them to kidnap me.”
“Your ex-husband?” Andre tried to keep the surprise off his face. He didn’t know why he’d expected her never to have been married. It shouldn’t matter one way or another, but he found himself disappointed. “Why would he want to kidnap you?”
She gave him a sad smile. “Let’s just say that the divorce wasn’t amicable. Hell, I don’t even know if it’s official. I filed, and then I ran. But in order for it to be approved, he has to agree to no-fault. I didn’t want to go through a court date, so I didn’t dare file a fault complaint.”
She fidgeted on the chair, avoiding his gaze, and he knew there was more to the story. Probably a lot more.
Anger heated him, and memories flashed through his mind, images he didn’t want to dwell on, from his first foster home. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She shook her head, but still didn’t meet his eyes. “But I saw something I shouldn’t have seen, and he knew it. I tried to tell him I’d keep his secret, just to get him to let me go, but he wanted me close. So when I finally accepted that I was in danger, that I had to go, I just filed and ran.”
“Why were you in danger?” Andre forced himself not to lean forward, not to show the aggression he was feeling toward her ex. “Why didn’t you just go to the police for help? Get a restraining order against him?”
She let out a heavy breath. “I couldn’t do that. He was...”
“He was what?” Andre pressed when she went silent for too long. Then his phone rang, and he saw her tense even before he checked the readout. Scott was calling.
He considered letting it go to voice mail, but if someone had spotted Juliette holding a gun on him, he didn’t want his teammates swarming his house in a misguided rescue attempt. “I need to answer this,” he told her. “But you’re safe here, okay?”
He didn’t let her argue, just picked up his cell. “Scott. What’s going on?”
“You didn’t see that woman—Juliette or Mya or whatever her name is—sneak out, did you?”
“Why?” Andre asked, instead of answering, because he hated lying to family.
“She left before they could question her,” Scott said. “You’re not going to believe this, but she actually managed to get a weapon off of Nadia in the restroom.”
“Is Nadia hurt?” If Juliette had disarmed a weapons training agent who could bring fellow agents to tears using her chokehold techniques on the training mats, then Juliette was much more dangerous than he’d suspected.
“Nah, Nadia’s fine. Mostly embarrassed. Apparently this woman has sticky fingers.”
So, Juliette was a pickpocket. Somehow, that didn’t fit. But then nothing about Juliette had fit so far. Still, taking a wallet from an unsuspecting mark on the street was a lot different from getting an agent’s weapon out of its holster.
“Anyway, there’s a lot more to this story,” Scott continued. “And the FBI thinks the woman’s in danger.”
Andre’s gaze sought Juliette’s. She stared back at him, her eyes wide.
“What did they get from the gunmen? Are they talking yet?”
“Yeah. I spoke to Froggy. Turns out they took an initial payment for grabbing this woman, and they were expecting more when the job was finished.”
“Who paid them?” Was Juliette right? Was it her ex?
“These idiots are claiming they don’t know. Which is either true, or they’d worked out their stories together beforehand. They say they were approached anonymously, that it was supposed to be easy money. Grab her, do the job, then get the other half of the money when the deal was complete.”
“And they didn’t think it was some kind of setup? Or just take the first payment and run?”
Scott sighed. “They both seem to think a cop hired them.”
“A cop?” Andre scoffed. “They think a cop hired a pack of ex-cons to kidnap a marketing employee at gunpoint out of her workplace?” He watched Juliette go pale and frowned. “That makes no sense at all. What kind of cop would send these guys in on such a flawed plan?”
“Well, it wasn’t the original plan,” Scott said. “Right now, because the third guy fired in that office building on FBI agents and they’re all going to face some serious sentences, the two we’ve got in custody are tripping over each other trying to make deals. The case agents have them separated, but they’re getting the same story.”
“What are they saying?”
“The hostage grab out of the office building was the criminals’ plan. They wanted it to hit the news, so their anonymous employer would see it. They were planning to grab her and demand a higher payout for her delivery.”
“Okay,” Andre said slowly. “That does make more sense. So, the original plan was to grab her more quietly, then make the trade in some deserted location? Juliette for the money?”
“I wish that was the case,” Scott answered. “But the plan wasn’t to grab her at all. And apparently the second guy—the one you tackled on the path—was trying to double-cross the other two and get all the money for himself, so there’s no love lost there.”
“So what was the plan?” Andre demanded, a bad feeling settling in his stomach as Juliette’s words came back to him, her fear of taking her ex-husband to court. And suddenly he knew. Her ex-husband was a cop. Her ex-husband was the cop, the one who’d hired three dangerous ex-cons to grab Juliette.
He watched