Free TRACELESS by Helen Kay Dimon Page B

it faster if they weren’t on an open front porch, like a target for any shooter lingering around out there.
    Marcel lived near the charity in a brown stucco house that blended in with its surroundings. Only the small rock garden out front and the mailbox tipped a person off from a distance that someone might live there.
    The house sat in an area lined with a few other buildings. Holt knew from the aerial photos and schematics Davis sent a few minutes ago when the communication lines reopened that the property consisted of a main house, an old barn that now substituted as a bunkhouse for charity workers, and a greenhouse turned storage shed. The neighbor’s property stood more than six miles away.
    “May we come in now?” Shane reached for the door handle as he asked the question.
    The lock clicked. “Are you FBI?”
    Holt was two seconds away from letting Shane rip the door off its hinges. This Marcel guy managed to be fully dressed at an hour when most people slept. Dark slim pants and a long-sleeve shirt. Give him a tie and he could step into any office building for a meeting.
    Tall and fit with a polished look, Marcel spoke with a slight accent and refused to yield any ground. Holt hated the guy on sight.
    He went with the one thing that should shut Marcel’s wariness down. “We work with Connor.”
    Marcel didn’t frown so much as grimace, as if he’d tasted something sour. “Jana’s husband? I thought they broke up.”
    “No,” Shane shot back with the answer.
    Holt didn’t blame his friend for the reaction. Something about Marcel’s words grated. “They are very much married.”
    Shane kept glaring. “You might want to keep that in mind.”
    That had Marcel sputtering. “Meaning?”
    Now was not the time for threats. Holt figured they could get to that later. Right now they needed some intel and this guy’s shifting and avoidance of questions said a lot. “Jana and Connor are together. End of story.”
    Some of the color leeched out of Marcel’s face. “But she’s been here. With me...”
    The expression, the comments—it all struck Holt as wrong. “Oh, really?”
    “I didn’t mean—”
    Shane took a step closer to the door. “Anything else you want to say about their marriage and your thoughts on it?”
    Marcel cleared his throat. “Where is she now?”
    This time Shane rolled his eyes. He looked two seconds away from reaching through the screen and strangling this guy. “With Connor.”
    “So, she’s safe?”
    Holt wasn’t about to give away her location or engage in a long conversation with this guy about Connor. Holt had no idea what was happening or what the panicked looks from Marcel meant. None of it mattered. Holt’s focus stayed on keeping Jana safe. “Can you think of any reason anyone would want to hurt Jana?”
    “Never. That doesn’t make any sense.”
    Shane never stopped scanning the area. “But it happened before.”
    “What did?”
    This wasn’t a secret. They all knew how Jana and Connor met. How Connor saw her and left his old life behind.
    When Jana talked about those days her eyes got all soft and her voice changed. She clearly viewed it as romantic. Connor was much more practical—he saw her, saved her, fell for her then married her. End of story.
    Holt decided to take a quick look down memory lane for Marcel’s benefit. “This is the second time someone tried to take Jana. The second time Connor stepped in and rescued her.”
    Marcel’s jaw tightened to the point of snapping. “An entire team saved her the first time. He just happened to be in the lead.”
    Now that was interesting. Mostly in a this-guy-needed-a-hard-punch way, but seeing anger creep across his face said something. Holt didn’t like that. “I sense you’re not a fan of Connor.”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “Didn’t have to,” Shane mumbled.
    “She’s been here doing some outreach and checking invoices. Getting us up to date.” When neither Shane nor Holt talked, Marcel