Lullabies and Lies - By Mallory Kane Page 0,8

to stay silent as his chair scraped on the hardwood floor.

Griff stood and stared at the top of Sunny Loveless’s honey-colored head, certainty settling cold and hard beneath his breastbone.

She was gutsier than most women would be in her situation. He had to give her that. But as each moment passed, he became more certain that she’d already heard from the kidnapper.

He stood and walked over to the window. As he brushed by her, a faint fresh scent like the air after a spring shower drifted past his nostrils. Despite his suspicion, despite his resolve, his body responded. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to picture her wet and bleeding, frantically searching for her daughter in the rain.

He turned in time to see her shoulders tense, and her fingertips tighten around the cup.

He swallowed. She was lovely. His gaze traveled over the graceful curve of her back, the fine shape of her head, the honey blond hair twisted up into a messy knot, exposing her delicately curved neck. In another circumstance, he could be attracted to her. Very attracted.

But that would only happen in a different world, a different life. In this one she was hiding information from him, and before he was finished with her she would hate him, because he would find her baby. And if that meant he had to bully her or browbeat her, then so be it.

He measured out his life in the tears and smiles of families reunited. A part of his heart died each time he failed to save a child. And there hadn’t been that many parts to spare when he’d started with the FBI.

Before he’d left D.C. he’d made himself a promise. He was good at his job, but he knew the taste of failure too well. He was thirty. He’d searched for his sister for fifteen years. That was long enough. It was time to give up on old hopes and move on.

This would be his last missing child case. He would not fail this last time. Not here. He was back home. This time, he would succeed, no matter the cost to him or to the lovely young woman who was deliberately lying to him.

Frustration blossomed into anger in his chest. He stepped in front of her.

“Do you think I haven’t seen this before? I know you’ve been contacted.” He glared down at her. “He told you he’d kill her, didn’t he?” He sucked in a sharp breath and slapped his open palm on the table. “Didn’t he!”

She went stone white, and the cup in her hand cracked, spattering coffee all over the table. She jumped up, brown liquid dripping from her fingers.

Griff grabbed a box of tissues and ripped half of them out. He gripped her arm.

“Here.” He handed her a wad of tissues, then used the rest to mop up the table.

After he’d tossed the soaked mess toward a trash can, he turned to her.

She stood there valiantly trying to mask the haunted terror that radiated from her pale face as her hands mangled the coffee-stained tissues.

Griff’s heart squeezed painfully.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said softly.

Chapter Two

35 hours missing

“I’m a private investigator. Do you think if the kidnapper had contacted me, I would keep it from the police?” Sunny’s voice sounded small.

Griff’s anger ratcheted up. “I think you’d be more believable if you gave me a straight answer, instead of throwing questions back at me.”

She took a long, shaky breath. “If I knew anything that would help you find Emily I’d tell you.”

“You’re prevaricating. Worse, you’re making the assumption that you know better than I do what will help your daughter. I’d like to…” He paused. He’d like to what? Grab her and shake the truth out of her? Or wrap his arms around her and promise her everything would be all right?

Whoa. Where had that thought come from?

He knew too well what an empty promise that would be. She needed to hear the unvarnished truth. Maybe that would scare her into trusting him.

Her dark green gaze met his, wrenching his heart into a painful knot. He peeled the coffee-stained tissues from her hands and tossed them aside.

“Talk to me, Ms. Loveless.” He couldn’t bring himself to call her Sunny. The name was too intimate. It brought him too close. He needed distance, detachment. It was the only way he could do this job.

“Tell me the truth. How did they get to you without alerting the police? And more importantly, what do they want?”

The scratches