Free Stolen by Allison Brennan Page A

and safe. He knows it. He won’t do anything to us.”
    “Then who is the fed?”
    “What did she look like?”
    “Dark blond hair, highlighted, five foot six, one hundred thirty-five pounds. Or so. Forty, give or take.” He’d taken a picture of her on his cell phone, but he was saving that for Noah.
    Colton said, “Let’s go to my control room. We’ll look at the security footage from the last couple weeks. If you see her, let me know.”
    Sean followed Colton to the small room off his office where he had all his security cameras. They sat down.
    “It’s going to take a while,” Colton said. “I’ll have Carol put another plate on the table.” He smiled. “It’ll be like old times.”
    Not quite, Sean thought, but he nodded. “Old times.”

 
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
Monday
     
    Sean stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The last time he looked at the clock it glared 1:47. Too late to be up on a Sunday night. Monday morning? He should just get up and walk off his anxiety, but he didn’t want to leave. He was too wound up, too angry and frustrated, and with all the drunks leaving the bars he feared he’d get himself into trouble.
    He’d made his bed. That’s what Duke would have told Sean. And maybe he had agreed to help Rick Stockton because he was desperate to purge these demons that had haunted him. Maybe he’d agreed to go undercover because it would disappear his past.
    Except it wouldn’t. His past had been locked tight until now, and Sean had willingly opened the door. Redemption? Maybe. Maybe that’s all this was about. Cleaning the slate for him and Lucy.
    But even though he’d agreed to work undercover with Noah Armstrong, Sean couldn’t help but think that he’d been manipulated into it.
    *   *   *
     
    Over two months ago, the week Lucy started at the FBI Academy, Assistant Director Rick Stockton asked Sean to meet with him. Sean hadn’t been surprised or suspicious at first—Rick was a longtime friend of JT Caruso and Sean’s brother Kane, who’d together founded RCK. They’d also been Marines and Marines tended to stick together, even if they hadn’t served with each other. Sean had always been unclear how the friendships had been forged. Because Rick had the authority to hire private contractors for certain jobs and RCK was on the approved-vendor list, Sean had met with him a few times for business since moving to D.C. last year. He’d also done a few private jobs for him.
    But Rick’s call was unusual because he hadn’t gone through Duke for the meeting; he’d asked that they meet at Sean’s house instead of the FBI office and insisted that Sean’s partner, Patrick Kincaid, not be present.
    Sean made it all happen, his curiosity battling his wariness. Any time law enforcement was involved, Sean became apprehensive. He didn’t trust most of them.
    And then the kicker: Rick brought Noah Armstrong with him.
    Sean had planned on meeting with Rick informally, at the dining table that sat in the middle of the great room next to Sean’s pool table. Maybe play a game or two. But when he saw Noah, Sean changed gears and took them upstairs to his office. He sat behind his desk and motioned for them to take either the chair or the couch. Rick sat in the chair across from Sean. Noah leaned against the wall.
    “What can I do for you?” Sean sat back, casual, though his muscles were tight. He and Noah had settled their differences for the most part, but they’d never be friends. It was because Sean knew, in his gut, that Noah cared too much for Lucy. Personally cared. He’d never admitted it, to Sean or Lucy, but guys knew these things.
    “I’m sure I don’t have to ask this, but I need strict confidentiality,” Rick said.
    Sean dipped his head. “Of course.”
    “You remember the case Lucy assisted in a few weeks ago, before starting the Academy? The Wendy James murder?”
    “Yes.” Lucy would have been dead if not for her bulletproof vest. Sean couldn’t