Prologue

Chicago, May 2004

“All right, guys. We all know the plan, right? If any of you let me die in there, I’m going to come back and haunt you as a ghost, got it?” Allison Gardner spoke into her earphone, trying to joke to cover her nervousness. Her palms felt a little slick with sweat, but she felt good. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. She could do this.

Who would have known just two years ago that she would be working with the most prestigious private investigator firm of all time? Heck, a year ago she was still working at that tiny little desk in front of an employment center as a receptionist. And now look at her: working with the local police force to bring down a drug dealer who was holding three of his clients hostage because they couldn’t come up with the cash to pay for the drugs. Her very first case. Her heart exploded with pride.

She had everything figured out, the exchange of drugs for the three prisoners. There was no room for mistakes: one slip-up and she, and the three people in there, could be killed. But she trusted her crew, trusted herself. She had gone through the training, hadn’t she? She had done her homework, and now it was time to see how she did on her term paper.

They hadn’t thought she could make it: she was too skinny, they said, too unaccustomed to violence, not able to think quick enough, slow reflexes, probably faint at the sight of blood. And yet she had pulled through.

“Counting down, five minutes until hour zero.” The voice said over the earphone.

“Got it, Boss.”

“Good luck, Allison.”

She breathed out slowly, a smile twitching at her lips. Brushing a stray strand of black hair behind her ear, she whispered.

“Thanks, Boss.”

It was all about psychology, really, this whole investigator thing. It was a mind game: her versus the criminal. Druggies were easy: their minds think along the same line: must get hands on more drugs, money, and, preferably, women.

Her slender hands tightened around the handle of the suitcase. There was ten grand in there. Ten grand, the ransom for the three prisoners, was probably ten times more than what the three actually owed him. Ten grand that mustn’t get into his hands at all costs.

“Two more minutes.”

“Got it.”

At that moment, she saw someone approach her, and she involuntarily winced when she recognized who it was.

Tall, dark, and extremely handsome, Avery Cummings had two years seniority on her in the firm. He was also, as she had decided the first time that she had met him, a complete idiot with an ego the size of the continents of North and South America combined . He didn’t walk, he strutted, like he owned the firm, America, and the entire freaking world. His good looks ensured a flock of pretty young girls trailing behind him at all times, and add that to the fact that he was something of an aristocrat that actually didn’t need to work at all…

“Hi, Ms. Gardner. You got a minute before your assignments starts for real. Scared?” He said, sounding like any other charming, aristocratic young man should, with a slight sneer set on his face. She scowled up at him. Although she was tall, he had at least five inches on her, and he was so close that she had to step back to avoid having to look up to see his face.

“Not on your life, Mr. Cummings.” She said through clenched teeth, remembering again just how attracted she had been to him until he started opening his stupid mouth.

“You know, you should really leave the hard work up to us pros. Avoid chipping a nail or taking a bullet on that pretty little face of yours.” His sneer became a slightly mocking smile.

“I know what I’m doing, Mr. Cummings. I, unlike you, I have been the one working on this assignment for the past month.”

“And you, unlike me, have never dealt with druggies in your life, Ms. Gardner.” He replied, his smile slipping a little, a storm starting to form behind those brown eyes. “You don’t walk in to some room alone with ten grand on your hand and expect to make it out alive, much less with the three captives.”

“Again, I know what I’m doing, Mr. Cummings. I happen to realize the dangers of this operation, and the consequences if I fail. I’m not stupid.” She shot back, her dark green eyes shooting fire at him. Her hand clutched the suitcase so tightly that her knuckles began to turn white.

“No, but you’re new at this.” He said, a flash of something that looked strangely like resignation crossing his face.

“Now, Allison.” The voice in her ear said.

“Thanks, Boss.”

Without another look at Avery Cummings Jr., she turned toward the run-down warehouse. Taking measured steps, she tried to relax. She couldn’t. Red-hot anger shot through her, and she muttered curses at the figure behind her under her breath.

The second that she stepped into the warehouse, she stopped dead in her tracks. The air was cold, the room dark. Goosebumps shot up her arms.

“I’m here with the money.” She said, trying to enunciate her words instead of slurring them together from the cold. Her breaths came out in little puffs of white steam. God, but it was cold in there.

“You’re alone?” The voice was not at all what she had expected: it was wheezy, like an old man’s, and a little squeaky, like that of a prepubescent boy. The combination just made her shiver all the more.

“Yes. Do you have the…”

The lights flickered open, suddenly blinding her. As her eyes adjusted to the now unaccustomed brightness, she saw a figure at the end of the corridor.

“Give me the money, and then we’ll talk.”

“There is no talking involved in this exchange. You give me the men; I’ll give you the money. That was the agreement.”

She began walking forward, holding up the suitcase and her other hand. She heard a sound like the cocking of a gun, and she stopped in her tracks.

“The three of them are back there. Put the money on the ground and step away from it. Slowly, no sudden movements.”

“I’m unarmed. I’m alone.” She said, her heart skipping a beat. Cold beads of sweat began to gather on her forehead.

“Alone?” He said, as though it was an unfamiliar word to him when dealing with the police. Or investigator, she thought, in her case. “You’re alone?”

“Yes. I have the money.” She slowly laid the suitcase on the ground, flipped it open to show him the bundles of hundred dollar bills, arranged neatly. “Where are they?”

“I’ll tell you after I have the money in my hands.”

He walked over, slowly, with a slight limp. He looked like he was in his early forties, hair thinning in the front, eyes slightly glazed over. He was high, she realized, and most probably more violent and irrational because of it. She picked up the suitcase. He immediately hoisted the gun again. She gave a reassuring little smile, and waited.

“Police! Come out with your hands up where we can see them!”

Her head snapped back towards the door in shock. This was not part of her plan. The forces were supposed to wait outside all the possible means of exiting the building after she had gotten all three back safely. Instead, a swarm of officers flooded in, Cummings right in front, a gun in his hand.

“You…you bitch…you lied to me!” She heard the man wheeze.

The gunshot exploded in her ears, before she even had the time to recover from the shock. Before she knew it, she had been bodily pushed to the ground, and the world was silent. A corner of the suitcase full of cash dug sharply into her stomach.

She could see the officers screaming something like “after him”, but she couldn’t hear. Someone very heavy was on top of her, and she tried to twist out of his grip. It was Cummings, and he looked dangerous. She pushed him off, and then scrambled up herself. Slowly, slowly, her hearing began to come back, only to put her in the middle of chaos.

“He’s gone? He’s gone! After him! Where are the hostages? Who’s in charge of this?”

The officers were out the door after the man, leaving only Allison and Cummings facing each other.

“What the hell are you doing here? This is my assignment!” She shouted into his shocked face, anger etched in her face.

“I’m here to make sure you don’t get killed doing your assignment.” He shot back, equally heated. “If I hadn’t pushed you to the floor, you would be dead by now!”

“If you hadn’t shown up, he wouldn’t have used the gun at all!”

“How the hell do you know?”

“I had him, I could have gotten him…what the hell is wrong with you?” She yelled back, tears stinging her eyes. She wouldn’t cry, not in front of him. Not after what he did.

“I was here trying to save your ass! You could have, no, would have, been killed! I know this stuff, okay, I’ve seen it happen to other people, and…I know better!”

“Well, you just completely ruined this! Are you happy now? You just went and ruined my first assignment! All that planning, all the research, all that work…Why the hell do you always think that you’re the only one who can ever be right?”

“Because I am! You would have been killed if I hadn’t been here to save your…”

As she stormed out of the warehouse, she screamed out the only thing she could think of:

“You’re an ass, Avery Cummings! An egotistical ass!”