Someone had gripped her hard enough to leave bruises.And she’d run away because she’d been terrified. Run off into the middle of the night and now some fake FBI agent was searching for her.
If Jacqueline hadn’t found him in the bar last night, if Remy hadn’t taken her out of there, what would have happened?
And what would happen when the people searching for her finallydidfind her?
No one hurts my muse.
Breath heaving, he made his way out of the bedroom and double-timed it down the stairs. When he reached the first floor, he grabbed the phone he’d left on a table and dialed a man that he damn well knew he could count on. Unlike Remy, his contact was one of those true-blue assholes who always did the right thing.
Eric Wilde answered the phone on the second ring. “This is Eric.”
Yes, Remy had the personal number for one of the richest men in the US. Big deal. He’d done a few side jobs for Eric Wilde over the years, and the man who ownedthemost elite protection and security firm in the whole freaking world just happened to be stored on his contact list. “It’s Remy.” That was all he said. Eric wouldn’t have his number stored because Remy switched phones as often as he switched identities.
And sometimes, he did that one hell of a lot.
Silence greeted his announcement. Then, “What’s the trouble?”
“That’s what I need you to find out.” Keeping his voice low, Remy glanced toward the second level of the cabin. “Just got paid a visit by a Fed.”
“So? You get lots of those visits.”
“Not the real deal this time. I had a fake Fed on my doorstep.”
“Okay, now you have my attention.”
“Don’t I always?” His hold tightened on the phone. “He was looking for a woman who he claimed was a fugitive.”
Silence. After a bit, “Why is she wanted?”
How very like Eric to cut to the chase. Remy could almost imagine the man stalking around his high-rise office and peering out at the city below. “If I knew that, then I wouldn’t be seeking the services of Wilde now, would I?”
A quick inhale. “Are you calling tohireme?”
What the hell else would he be doing? Calling to talk about the freaking weather? “I need you to do a quick and dirty background search on a woman for me. Her name is Jacqueline. Find out everything you can about her.”
Eric cleared his throat. “My Wilde team isn’t exactly known for being quick and dirty.”
“Nah. You’re more overpriced and fancy. Got it. Noted.”
“Remy…”
“I need the intel ASAP. I don’t want this getting out, understand? So put someone you absolutely trust on this case, and I’ll pay you double.” Wait. What the hell had he just said? But, he meant it. He’d pay whatever was necessary in order to get the information he needed.Bruises on her soft skin…
Remy could practically feel Eric’s surprise even before the guy slowly replied, “She must be quite important to you.”
“No, she doesn’t matter at all.” The words sounded hollow. He felt hollow saying them. What. The. Hell? He’d met the woman yesterday. “I think someone hurt her, and I want the bastard’s name.”So I can end him. Slowly. Painfully.
“And when you get that name? Will you be going to the cops?”
“Ah, Eric…” He kept the phone to his ear as he made his way to the art studio. “You know me. I like to handle things with my own two hands.” He pulled out his sketch pad. Snapped a pic. “Sending you her image now.” He sent the text.
“That’s…a sketch,” Eric informed him after a beat of time.
“Damn, man. You are astute.” His gaze had locked on the sketch. Just a charcoal work. He’d like to do her in—
“Why are you sending me a sketch instead of an actual picture of the woman?” Eric grumbled. “Do you know how hard tracking her down is going to be based on just a sketch and a first name? Tell me you have her last name, at least. I’m good, but I’m not exactly a miracle worker over here.”
Remy closed the sketch pad. “I thought you liked a challenge. My mistake. If it helps, start the search in New Orleans. Does that narrow things down for you?”