“God bless you,” I reply and reach into the pink box for a cinnamon twist. “I think, given the turn of events, my homemade pancakes are off the table for today.”

“You’ll live,” Annika says and sets a mug of steaming coffee in front of me.

“When and where was the package left?” Nadia asks.

“It was taped to the front door.” I sigh in frustration. “I fell asleep for ninety fucking minutes, and they slipped past me. Jesus.”

“Not your fault,” Carmine says. “And, this is a new clue.”

“I have cameras,” Annika announces, surprising me.

“What?”

“I had them installed after Ivie was taken,” she explains as if she’s discussing new gutters or rosebushes. “There’s probably something on them.”

“I know we’re all sleepy,” Nadia says as she chomps on a maple bar, “but you should have started with that information.”

“I’m tired, and I’m frustrated, and it just occurred to me.” Annika shrugs and drinks her black coffee. “Should we call Shane and Ivie?”

“Already did,” Carmine says. “They’ll be here in about an hour. Less now.”

“We’ll wait, then,” Annika says. “I’m not exactly in a hurry to open that envelope, and I assume Shane will want to look for fingerprints.”

“That’s ideal,” I reply, watching her. She’s fidgety. Nervous. “Honey, what are you afraid of finding in there?”

“What? Oh, I couldn’t tell you.”

What in the bloody hell did that piece of shit make her do? I want to ask. I want her to feel comfortable enough with me to tell me everything so I can help her. So I can make the bad memories go away and replace them with new, happy ones.

But she won’t open up to me.

And it’s making me damn crazy.

We’ve made our way through a second round of coffee when Ivie throws open the door and comes running inside, straight for Annika.

“Are you okay? What did they leave? Oh, God, I’m so sorry that I was so far away.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Annika hugs Ivie and pats her back in reassurance. “I’m fine. It’s been really boring, actually.”

“We didn’t open it yet,” I inform Shane. “Thought you’d like to check it out first.”

“Thanks,” he says with a nod and points to the envelope at the other end of the table. “That it?”

“Yeah.”

My brother sets a case on the table next to it and starts fiddling with dust and brushes.

“No prints,” he announces.

“Well, damn.” I sigh and drain my mug, then look at Annika. “Looks like you’re up, honey.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I was hoping to stall a little longer.”

“Let’s get it over with. Then we’ll know what we’re dealing with,” Nadia suggests. “Ivie and I are right here. We’re all here. You’re safe.”

Annika nods and walks to the end of the table. She takes the envelope from Shane and breaks the seal.

“I used to love getting mail,” she says conversationally. “I would wait every day for the mail carrier and hope there would be something for me. Anything at all. Even junk mail. I know it’s silly, but I always looked forward to it.

“And then this happens. Now, I’ll never want to check my mailbox again.”

“Open it,” I say, my voice calm and soft. “Let’s see what we’ve got, then we’ll look at the security video.”

She nods and pulls a stack of sheets out of the large envelope. We all sit facing her so we can’t see what she’s looking at.

Her blue eyes shift from guarded curiosity to embarrassment to confusion. And then, just when I’m about to rush to her and take everything out of her hands so I can see, those eyes turn fierce and angry.

And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the game has changed for her.

She’s pissed.

Chapter 4

~Annika~

With all five of them staring at me, I rip open the envelope and pull out the contents. Just like last time, there’s a note on top.

Now that we have your attention, let’s talk terms. We don’t want money. That’s too…cliché. No, Annika, we want you. Based on what we’ve seen you do and know you’re capable of, what your tastes are, this shouldn’t be a problem.

We’ll be in touch very soon.

Jesus. I swallow hard and steel myself to flip to the photos.

The first is like the others. I’m tied up on a bed covered with satin sheets. I’m naked. No one else is in the photo.

I flip to another and have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t gasp in terror. My God, how is it possible that someone took photos of this? Of what those men did to me?

I hurry to the next.

There’s a yellow sticky note on the last one.

In case you plan to deny us, perhaps you should consider that we know what you did. What you were involved in. Drug distribution is a federal crime.

It’s a photo of me walking out of my clinic with my briefcase, simply leaving work.

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