Trace made certain that he secured the lock behind them all.
Skye hit the lights, and the illumination flooded down on them, giving Trace his first good look at the woman.
This just keeps getting worse.
The woman—a drenched redhead with flashing green eyes—was as pale as death. Her high cheeks gave her a hallowed out, frightened look—or maybe that look just came from the absolute terror that was reflected in her eyes.
“H-he tried to drown me,” she whispered. “Then he put his g-gun to my—”
Drake shoved the gun into his waistband. “I found her at Navy Pier. Right before some asshole slammed a board into the back of my head and dumped me in the water. Now she won’t tell me who her partner is, but the lady did confess to one thing. According to her, she’s Anna Jean’s sister.”
Trace studied the woman’s face. “Yes, I can see the resemblance.” The eyes weren’t the same shade of green, and her hair was the wrong color. Anna Jean’s face had been more classically beautiful. Cold perfection—that was what he’d thought of when he saw Anna Jean.
“What in the hell is happening down here?” A snarling voice demanded. Then footsteps thudded down from the upstairs apartment.
And Noah appeared.
Noah?
Claire was right behind him, peering nervously over his shoulder.
Noah’s gaze darted over to Drake and then that golden stare narrowed when he saw Drake’s guest. “You.” He lunged toward the woman. “Anna Jean.”
“No!” The woman cried out as she tried to back away from him, and she thudded into Drake. “I’m not. My name’s Piper! I-I’m her half-sister.”
Noah’s doubting gaze swept over her. “Nice trick. Got some collagen in your lower lip. A nose job. Died your hair.” He peered at her. “And I’d wager those are contacts, just to make your eyes look a little different, right?”
“No!”
“Bullshit. I saw you walk away today. I know that walk. I know you. You always were a good actress, Anna Jean. Too good.”
Her frantic green stare flew around the room and locked on Skye. “Help me,” she begged. “This isn’t why I came here. I-I needed to talk with you.”
“So talk,” Trace invited.
Skye edged around him. “Talk to me.”
The woman’s chest shuddered. She glanced over her shoulder at Drake, then her terrified stare came back to Skye. “Y-you’re in danger,” she said. “I-I had to tell you. You needed to be warned.”
Trace stiffened. “Did you just threaten her?”
“No, Trace,” it was Skye who answered, her voice calm, “she didn’t.”
The woman—Piper or Anna Jean or whoever the hell she was—told Skye, “You have to get away from him.”
Skye glanced back at Trace.