Disappear

The guard leaned down. “We’re closed. No one’s working here tonight.”

“But do you know them? Have you seen them?”

He shook his head, his gloved fingers going to his jacket and pulling it closer. “I don’t know anyone who works here. I man the gate when everyone else is off. I’m sorry I can’t help you, but I have my instructions. You’ll have to move along.”

Alexis rolled up her window. There was nothing she could do but turn around and head back into town, her fear and frustration growing. She drove slower than before, the roads slicker and more dangerous than they’d been earlier, a thin layer of ice covering the highway. By the time she reached the house, she was a nervous wreck, her stomach in knots, her hands cramping against the steering wheel. She turned the corner, praying she’d see lights, but the house was as dark as she had left it. A wash of unbelievable disappointment came over her. Where in the world had they gone?

She angled the car carefully into the driveway and shut off the engine, sleet now pinging against the metal roof in an uneasy rhythm. She didn’t know what to do other than try the police department again. She should have filed a report earlier, but she hadn’t wanted to seem foolish. Looking silly was the last thing she cared about now.

She gathered her purse, then opened the car door and dashed to the front porch in the freezing night. Fumbling with the keys she’d grabbed on the way out, she found the right one, unlocked the dead bolt and walked quickly into the entry.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, the shadows inside seemed thicker than they had before, closer somehow, pressing down against her and making it tough to breathe. She wanted to call out but she knew no one would answer, so she didn’t bother. Her fingers found the light switch a second later and she flipped it up. But nothing happened. Her mouth went dry as she tried once more. The darkness remained, indeed, seemed to increase.

She took a step into the living room then stopped abruptly.

A man dressed completely in black sat in her father’s chair. Alexis stared at him in shock, a sense of dread coming over her with such intensity, she felt her entire body go hot, her blood turning to needles as it coursed through her veins. In the space of a heartbeat she was more scared than she’d ever been in her life. She couldn’t move, couldn’t talk, couldn’t do anything but stare at the stranger. An aura of foreboding hung above him like a hangman’s noose.

He looked at her through the gloom and spoke in a low voice. “You’re Alexis.”

Wishing she could answer another way, she nodded slowly.

“I’m Gabriel O’Rourke. I’m here to explain.”

CHAPTER TWO

FROZEN IN PLACE, Alexis Mission stared at him, her eyes filling with fright. She was, he realized, trying to decide if she should scream, run or sit down and listen.

While she made up her mind, he took his own measure of her.

She wasn’t at all what he’d expected.

The obstinacy and intelligence the Missions had told him about shone in the girl’s eyes but they had said nothing about her appearance. She was beautiful…or was she? The shining brunette hair hung around a face with features that didn’t mesh. The eyes were too big, the nose too straight. Her lips were too full as well. Taken one at a time, each component was attractive but she needed to age, he realized, for everything to fit.

Because she was young. Oh, God, she was so young…

Without any warning, she darted toward the phone. He jumped up but she punched two numbers before he could stop her, his fingers around her wrist, his face inches from hers.

She held on to the receiver and looked at him defiantly. Her attitude made him think of her mother. Selena had never let fear stop her, either.

“Take your hands off me and let go of the telephone,” the girl said with determination.

He didn’t answer—or release her.

They were standing close in the darkness, the skin beneath his fingers warm and smooth, her wrist bones fragile in his grip. He could have snapped them without any effort.

“What do you want?” she whispered. “Who are you?”

“I work for the government.” He rattled off an acronym, but he knew it meant nothing to her. Robert and Selena wouldn’t have told their daughter about him because that would have meant telling her about themselves. And they would never have done that.

Taking the phone away from her, he put it back in the cradle and dropped her arm. But he didn’t step away.

She rubbed her wrist. “I want to see some ID.”

“We don’t have time for a dog and pony show. I have to get you out of here.”

“Get me out of here… What on earth are you talking about?” She started shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere with you—”

He reached inside the pocket of his jacket, pulled out a leather wallet and flipped it open, handing it to her. She studied the card and the authentic-looking seal, comparing the photo to his face. The documentation meant nothing, but he carried it for people like her, people who kept their wits about them when he showed up. The Agency he worked for didn’t hand out IDs or have a fancy office. It didn’t even exist—at least not in a way that meant anything to others.

Looking unconvinced, she returned the credentials. “Where’s my family? What have you done to them?”

The lie tasted bad and he cursed himself for what he was about to do. The girl’s future held nothing but trouble, thanks to him. Along with confusion and anger. Grief and loneliness. He told himself again he didn’t have a choice, but that knowledge didn’t make the task any easier.

Plan your work and work your plan… His da would of been proud of him, he thought bitterly. Never give up, never say die. The old man had been full of useless clichés and he’d drilled every one of them into his sons—usually with a hard fist for punctuation—thinking they’d bring them the success that had always eluded him. His theory hadn’t worked.

The girl made a sound of distress, breaking his thoughts.

“Relax,” he said. “I haven’t done anything to them and I’m not going to do anything to you, either. If I’d wanted to, I would have done it by now.”

She moved back a step, away from him as much as possible, her eyes wary, her body still poised to flee. “Where are they?”

“There’s been a problem.”

Her expression shifted. “Are they okay? What’s happened? Where are—”

He interrupted her. “Your father saw something he shouldn’t have this morning. He saw someone get killed. And the murderer saw your father…”

“A murder… Oh my God!” She lifted her fingers to her neck. At the base of her throat, a slim gold chain glistened. His eyes went to the tiny heart it held. All at once, in spite of her bravado, she seemed too vulnerable to Gabriel, too defenseless to handle what was coming next. “But Dad’s okay, right? My family’s—”

Before she could finish her sentence, she halfway turned to the door, then stopped in confusion and looked at him again, her eyes filled with worry. Cold had seeped into the house since he’d cut off the power and her words came out in quick bursts of vapor. “I should go to the police station. That’s where they are, isn’t it? I’d better—”

“No.” Seeing his expression, finally sensing something, she stood still, his one-word answer hanging in the chilly living room between them.

He pointed to the couch. “Sit down.”

Surprising him, she followed his command.

“You can’t see them.” He held her eyes in the darkness, his words slicing through the moment with the sharpness of a razor held to a throat. “They’re dead.” He waited a second. “They’re gone. All of them.”

She blinked against the pronouncement, her expression a study of misunderstanding. “I don’t…” She shook her head slightly, her hair gleaming against the chenille upholstery of the sofa. She licked her lips and started over. “What do you mean, they’re ‘gone’? They can’t just be ‘gone.’ They have to be somewhere—”

Gabriel wasn’t sure why he moved to take her hand, but he did. Sitting down beside her, he reached out. Whatever his reason had been, though, it didn’t matter. She snatched her fingers away before he could touch her. He spoke quietly. “The shooter killed them.”

Unable to speak, she shook her head again, her fingers now spread across her open mouth.

“He couldn’t leave anyone who might testify against him later.”

“But Toby…Mother…”

“They were waiting for your father and saw what happened. The killer saw them, too.”

Her eyes deepened to a darker color, denial her only defense. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head again. “No. This…this can’t be happening. I—I don’t believe you…”

Reaching inside the pocket of his jacket, Gabriel pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the flap.

A moment later, she looked up from the wedding bands, her eyes so similar to her father’s, they threw Gabriel for a moment. “Th-this doesn’t prove anything. Y-you could have stolen them, for all I know.”

“I didn’t steal the rings. I had them with me because I was going to mail them to you later.” He paused. “I assumed your mother would have wanted you to have them.”

The girl’s reaction was a living thing; it sucked the air from the room and then from him. Gabriel fought the sensation and overcame it, but not without a struggle, which surprised him. He puzzled for a moment over why. Maybe it was the way she looked or maybe her youth. Either way, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. He couldn’t care.

“We have to leave.” He glanced at his watch then stood. Looking down at her, he came as close to the truth as he had all night. “The man your father saw—he’s associated with some very bad people. If they figure out you exist, they’re going to come after you, too. They won’t quit until they find you, and after they’ve used you up, they’ll kill you. If I can get you out of Los Lobos quickly enough and under some kind of protection, that might not happen.” He paused. “Emphasis on ‘might.’”

Alexis stared at him, her gaze so pointed it made him uneasy. “That doesn’t make sense. If my family was killed because they witnessed a murder, why would the killer—or anyone associated with him—come after me? I didn’t see anything.”

Gabriel wasn’t surprised she could analyze the situation while mired in grief. Robert had told him the truth.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she insisted.

“Of course it doesn’t make sense.” Gabriel made his voice harsh. “Do you think the baby could identify him?” He didn’t wait for her reply because he wasn’t going to get one—he’d shocked her, and that was exactly why he’d spoken as he had. “This man is a killer. He enjoys it. The people he surrounds himself with enjoy it, too. Killing is entertainment for them.”

Devastated by his words, she sat on the sofa, stunned and silent. The expression on her face made Gabriel feel ill but he ignored the sensation. “If you hadn’t shown up, this might not have been a problem, but you did, so now we have to deal with it. That’s why I’m here.”

Without waiting for her to reply, Gabriel moved toward the window. A car moved slowly down the street. Relatives looking for a holiday gathering or something else? His jaw tensed and the rest of his body followed. He turned away from the glass, a new urgency coming into his voice. “Get up and get ready. It’s time to leave.”

The speed of her movement took him so off guard, he automatically reached behind him, toward the .38. She flew at him, her hands clawing at his face.

“You’re lying to me!” she screamed. “You did something to them yourself! You’re the one who killed them!”

He gripped her arms and forced them down, slapping his fingers over her mouth to cut off her words before they had the chance to go any further. Above his hand, her eyes were huge.

“I did not kill your family,” he growled. “Why would I stick around here and wait for you to show up then tell you what I’d done? Does that even sound remotely logical?”

Instead of answering, she tried again to scream. He squeezed her jaw with the barest of force, shaking her slightly. “You don’t want to do this,” he warned. “You don’t want to make problems for me. Do you understand?”

Her body trembled, vibrated, in fact, like a string on a violin that had been drawn too roughly. Finally she blinked, then blinked again. He took that for a reply, but he didn’t remove his hand as he spoke.

“Problems for me mean problems for you. You do not—I repeat—do not want anyone to know you even came here tonight. Your flight records have already been erased and the car you came in is gone. I had it moved the minute you stepped inside here.” He took a deep breath, her scent reaching him before he could ignore it. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

This time he did ease his fingers, but he didn’t take away his hand. She started to speak, her mouth moving against the inside of his palm, sending a sensation into his gut.

“I called the police—”

“No, you didn’t,” he said.

It took her a stunned second to understand. “But I went to the center. I talked to the guard—”

He removed his hand, but kept his grip on her arm. “He’s been taken care of. Did you talk to anyone else, see anyone?”

“No…I…” She looked dazed, almost as if she was slipping into shock, her touch with reality slipping as well. “Ju-just the neighbors…” she said with distraction.

“They’ve been dealt with, too.” Locking his stare on hers, he spoke again. “Now all we have to do is take care of you…”

NUMB WITH DISBELIEF, Alexis watched the man gather up her things. He worked quickly and efficiently—he’d done this kind of thing before. Glancing into the dining room from the living room where she stood, she saw that he’d already removed the extra place setting from the table. If she bothered to look, she was sure she’d see that the linens in her bedroom were back in the closet as well. Within moments, he was finished. Glancing down at her watch, she was shocked by how quickly the minutes passed since she’d come back into the house.

He walked into the kitchen. She lifted her eyes to his face but she already had the details memorized; she could live to be a hundred and she’d never forget what he looked like. Wolfish eyes and thick black hair. Broad shoulders and a muscular body. A square jaw. A cruel mouth.

Cold. Stony. Callous.

His voice was clipped, his demeanor unreadable. Alexis had a fine ear for languages and she’d recognized the barest hint of an accent, something British, maybe Irish.

“It’s time.” The burr sounded again. “Let’s go.”

“Where—”

“Where doesn’t matter!” Until this point, his total calm had been almost eerie, his attitude colder than she could comprehend. Now she heard frustration, got a hint of anger.

He took a step toward her. “Don’t you get it? I’ve got to remove you and we’ve taken way too long already.” He jerked a thumb toward the street. “I can’t guarantee what’s going to happen if we don’t get out of here and soon.”

He headed toward the back door then turned when she didn’t follow. His eyes bored a painful path into her. “Don’t do this,” he warned.

Alexis shuffled toward him, her legs weak, her brain whirling with all the questions she had. How did she know this man was who he said he was? She certainly hadn’t recognized the badge or the name of his agency. And his story… God, it was crazy! She could be walking straight into something horrible instead of fleeing danger. Grief and terror mixed inside her with confusion and alarm. What should she do?

Her panic blossomed. She picked up the photo she’d looked at earlier. Then she tensed her body, pivoted and ran straight for the front door.

Her fingertips were brushing the doorknob when he grabbed her from behind.

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” He twisted her around to face him, his breath hot against her cheeks. “Are you crazy? Do you want to die?”

“Let me go.” She pushed at his hands, but for all the good it did, she shouldn’t have bothered. His fingers were steel bars wrapped around her arms. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want—”

“Good God Almighty! I thought you were bright.” He shook her slightly, his tone so toxic she stopped her protests. His grip tightened. “Your father told me you had your mother’s brains. Was the poor man daft or was he lying to me?”

Alexis froze. Her father had teased her with those words a million times, his smile as wide as the gold band on his finger, the wedding band he, just like her mother, never removed. Ever.

One by one, the details added up and Alexis’s heart sank from the weight of them.

The man read her reaction immediately. He jerked the small frame from her fingers and stuffed it into his coat pocket. Then he turned and headed for the back door, yanking Alexis along behind him.

GABRIEL PICKED a no-name motel on the edge of the interstate three hours away. The place was run-down and deserted, which was exactly why he’d picked it. Paying cash, he then drove the van to the last room at the back of the low concrete-block building and parked, turning to look at Alexis as he switched off the engine. She was sitting on the floor of the vehicle and barely seemed aware of where they were. Her entire life had just been turned upside down and he was the one shaking the globe. If she ever found out the truth, the glimpses of resistance he’d witnessed earlier would pale in comparison to what would follow.

He pushed his thoughts aside and climbed out of the van. With one hand on his weapon, he let his eyes sweep the parking lot. As they’d escaped through the back of the Missions’ house to the van, he’d thought he’d heard a car drive by the front, but his men had told him to leave and he had, without looking back. He studied the empty blacktop before him now, then he twisted the door handle and reached inside. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t resist. Climbing out of the vehicle without a word, she walked beside him to the door of their room. The fact that his hand was wrapped around her upper arm assured her cooperation. He kept a steady hold on her until they stepped inside and he’d thrown the lock behind them.

The tiny room was clean, but that was all Gabriel could say about it. A small table in one corner was propped up by a telephone book, its lamp askew, the chair beside it worn and threadbare. Gabriel knew nothing about decorating, but the last time he’d seen a spread like the one stretched over the sagging bed, the year had been 1970-something.

He strode toward the bathroom and flipped on the light. A harsh fluorescence lit the room. He checked behind the shower curtain, then made the mistake of glancing into the mirror.

He’d aged ten years in the past forty-eight hours.

His skin was the pasty color of an old man’s, his hair spiky and dark. A black shadow covered his jaw-line and circles of exhaustion hung under his eyes. He scrubbed his face with his hands and looked again. God in heaven, no wonder Alexis Mission had been scared of him. He scared himself.

A sudden squeak sounded in the room behind him. His hand on his weapon, Gabriel pivoted and pushed through the door…then he relaxed. Alexis had lain down, the box springs so worn they creaked under even her slight weight. Walking over to the bed, he studied her but her expression was blank when she looked up at him.

“Are you hungry?” He glanced over his shoulder to the parking lot beyond the window. “I’ve got some stuff in the van if you are.”

She stared at him for a moment, then without a word she rolled over and faced the wall.

He stood silent and still. For now, she’d shut down, her emotions and reactions too raw and exposed for her to even comprehend, but later she’d have more questions. He’d seen it happen before. Gabriel turned to the chair in the corner and dragged it to the door with one hand. Propping it under the knob, he sat down wearily, his body unsteady, his mind drained. He wished he could sleep but knew he couldn’t.

A long time would come and go before he could experience that luxury again.

ALEXIS CLUTCHED her paper coffee cup, the steam rising slowly between her face and Gabriel O’Rourke’s. They were sitting inside the van, somewhere off the main highway, exactly where she had no idea. He’d woken her after what felt like only a few hours’ sleep, and they’d gotten into the vehicle, driving for a full hour before he was satisfied enough to stop and get them coffee from a run-down all-night diner. She wasn’t too sure what he was doing, but she suspected he was checking to see if they were being followed. The knowledge didn’t make her feel any better. Neither had waking up and realizing he’d been watching her as she’d slept.

He was trying his best to fool her, but she was sure the man sitting in front of her knew more than he was letting on. She swallowed the pain and confusion that filled her. “Who do you work for, again?”

“You’ve already asked me that and I’ve answered it. Asking me again is not going to get you a different response.” A lock of dark hair fell down on his forehead before he pushed it back impatiently. “It doesn’t matter anyway. All I’m here to do is make sure you understand what has happened and what’s going to happen next.”

Despite everything he’d said, she couldn’t accept—didn’t want to accept—what he’d told her. It wasn’t possible, she kept telling herself. “I—I can’t just walk away like this. No funeral. No services. It’s not right.”

His glance went to the deserted highway that ran beside them, exactly as it had at least a dozen times while they’d been sitting there drinking coffee. When his eyes came back to Alexis, they held a different kind of darkness from before, and she trembled, despite herself.

“I thought you understood.” He leaned closer, his manner hard and impatient. “I don’t know how to say it any other way than I’ve already said it a thousand times. You can’t see the bodies or bury them. It would take too much time. In fact, we’ve already…taken care of that.” He held out his hands almost in defeat, the first gesture he’d made that seemed human to her. “I’m sorry, Alexis, but they’re gone.” He shook his head. “They are gone.”

She wasn’t sure if it was his voice or the use of her name, but all at once his words sunk in, the reality of what they actually meant ripping into her with a force that tore her breath away. The last vestige of her denial was destroyed along with it.

“They’re dead,” she whispered.

He nodded, a tinge of something that looked like pity crossing his expression before he could prevent its appearance.

“Toby’s only four,” she said inexplicably.

“He was four.”

His use of the past tense didn’t escape her, but Alexis refused to let herself cry. She wouldn’t let him see her do that. It took everything she had, but she composed herself, then looked up. Gabriel O’Rourke stared back. His eyes held the total force of his intensity and it was directed straight at her.

“You cannot go back to Los Lobos. Ever. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said numbly.

“The house will be sold. The proceeds will go into a bank account and they’ll be forwarded to you. Everything else—any other accounts they might have held—will be sent to you later.” He crumpled his coffee cup and dropped it to the floorboard of the van. “I’m going to put you on a plane in a bit and you’ll fly away from here. People will meet you at the other end. They’ll take care of you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll get a new life.”

“A new life? I don’t want a new life. I want my old one back.”

“That’s impossible. It’s gone.”

“That easily?” She snapped her fingers, her voice breaking. “You can erase people’s existence just like that? Their history? Their lives? Everything they are? You have that much power?”

He ignored the question. “After this, you’re going to be someone else. My organization doesn’t put people into the Witness Protection Program but they will help you. You’ll get a new home and a new name—”