Little Girl Lost: Unbreakable, #2

By Maria Romana

*** The Unbreakable Series:  A 2010 Readers Favorite Gold Medal Award Winner ***
 

When a dedicated researcher learns a bit too much about her client's new drug, the horrors from her past seem destined to return. Just as her life begins to spin out of control, a dashing computer security expert arrives from South America and seems the perfect antidote. But is his sudden arrival just the happy coincidence it seems? Find out in this three-book series of romance, mystery, and suspense that takes the reader on a roller coaster ride of murder, mayhem, sex, and drugs—of the pharmaceutical variety, of course—until the very last page.

Praise for the Unbreakable Series:

"Romana's characters are portrayed with skill, each is a credible person filled with foibles, warts and gaffes...the various twists and turns are handled with skill, are easily followed, and add depth and dimension often lacking in works provided by newer writers...Maria Romana's 'Little Miss Straight Lace' is a fast paced, keep 'em guessing and turning the page type read sure to intrigue readers who enjoy good writing, a bit of romance, a lot of action, and a downright good read..."
—Molly Martin, Midwest Book Review

"It was one of those books I couldn't wait to finish, had to know what happened, but at the same time, didn't want it to end."
—ARC Reviewer

Books in the Unbreakable Series:

    Little Miss Straight Lace
    Little Girl Lost
    Daddy's Little Girls

Read an Excerpt:
    Robert spoke with open hands and a casual stance, "Look, fella, take it easy. We just—"
    "O-okay, listen, I-I'll tell you the whole story. Everything. But I swear, I never did anything to her. Nobody did. Not on my watch, anyway. I took real good care of her. I swear. You gotta believe me!"
    Nic's pulse quickened. He took a step closer and cocked a brow at the stocky man, "Who her?"
    "Y-you know—your girl."
    "My girl?"
    "Y-yeah. You know...petite, brunette, pretty. Kinda..." The guy relaxed a little, pulling his hands away from the fence, and started forming an hourglass shape with them.
    Nic pursed his lips. "Okay. I know what she looks like." He lifted his chin at the stocky man, "So what are you talking about? 'Your watch'. 'Took care of her'. Where? When?"
    "Come on, you know..." The tattooed man looked from Nic over to Robert, as if he expected a more reasonable interrogator—a Good Cop to Nic's Bad.
    But Nic insisted, "Humor me."
    "Well, uh, well..."
    Nic took another step.
    The tattooed man gulped and started talking, "Yeah, okay. See, when I took the job, I didn't know it was her, okay? It was only when I saw her close up, in the light, that I recognized her. I remembered her from the bar. From that night last summer when I pulled her off the stool. I mean, I didn't know who she really was. I just thought she was your date, your girl or whatever, okay? I didn't know she was like...one of you."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Research Triangle Publications
• Release date: Sep 25, 2013
• ISBN: 9781497722729

Book preview

Chapter One

She was naked, completely naked.

He’d never seen a naked woman before. Her skin looked like porcelain, and her breasts, like firm, ripe fruits, from which a man, or a boy, should most certainly take a drink. He was trying to ignore it, but deep within him, there was a dark desire to have one tiny taste.

Then he looked at her face.

Gone was the sweet, simple smile he’d counted on for years. Gone was the laughter and the silliness they’d shared for as long as he could remember. And gone was the unquestioning trust he’d seen when he pulled her up from a treacherous tumble or helped her down from a daring attempt to scale the wall. In their place, he saw only fear—eyes wide, cheeks pale, the lower lip trembling.

He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. No matter what they said. He jumped up from where he’d been sitting next to her and left her lying there alone.

On the other side of the door, they were waiting. His mother spoke anxiously, Bobby?

He shook his head, Can’t, ma.

The big man stepped toward him. He towered over Bobby. What did you say?

Bobby stared at the ground, swallowed hard, then mumbled, I can’t.

His mother reached out to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder, Leave him be, Bill. He’s just a boy. He doesn’t want to.

William, the man corrected, shaking her off. He barely turned his head toward her. And I don’t care what he wants. He’s a man now. He needs to act like it. He grabbed Bobby’s chin, jerking it upwards, so he was forced to look the man in the eye. His voice was angry, commanding, You do what you’re told.

Bobby set his jaw. No, Father, I won’t. Then he braced for impact. He knew what the response would be, but it was better than going back in there.

William, please, don’t. He’s not ready. His mother began tugging at the big man with both hands, trying to pull him away from her son.

William shoved her roughly backwards, then turned around to face her, raising a hand in the air. What the hell do you—

Bobby jumped in between them and took the brunt of the blow across his jaw. His head was spinning from making contact with the wall behind him, but when he heard his mother’s strangled cry, he struggled to get up anyway, clutching at a nearby chair for stability.

William had his mother pinned against the wall, holding her there with just one enormous hand. The hand was wrapped so tightly around her throat that she could barely make a sound, and, Bobby supposed, could barely breathe.

William looked at him, sneering, Now get in there!

Bobby turned back toward the door. He had no choice. He willed his legs to move, but they wouldn’t go. He wanted to scream, but no sound came out. He tried to make it stop, but it wouldn’t.

He could see Kimmy’s body again, now curled up in a ball on the bed. She was shaking and crying. Her voice echoed in his ears, Bobby, please! Don’t! No, Bobby, no!

Bobby! Bobby, come on, wake up.

She just kept begging, Don’t! No! Bobby, please!

Bobby, Bobby! Dr. Robert William Prescott! Please, wake the hell up!

Huh! Robert opened his eyes and sat up quickly, panting and out of breath. His heart was pounding. Nina?

Yeah, baby, I’m here. She reached a hand up into his hair and pushed it back out of his eyes. You okay?

He nodded, trying to clear his head.

Was it the one about your mom again...and Kimberly?

Yeah. He finally turned to look at her. The horrific images were gone. He saw only the face of an angel.

You wanna talk about it? Or do you want to try to go back to sleep?

Neither. He leaned back against the headboard and raised his arm up, inviting her in. I just want to hold onto you. She slid closer, and he tucked her head in just under his.

It happened this way every time. Whenever he got involved in a new case, whenever the demons of the past came roaring back into his life, the nightmares would start up again. He’d be forced to relive the worst moments of his life, over and over.

But at least this one would be over soon. After the incident at the Women’s Center in Durham, where Shawn’s sister was attacked by those Warriors of God loonies, and Nic and Josie had figured out that high-tech in-line trick, they had tracked down and plugged up all the security leaks. They still had no idea who or where the culprits were, but they were pretty sure they had run them off. If Robert knew one thing about religious cult leaders, it was that they were not Bravehearts, but rather, lily-livered soul-suckers who preyed on truly spiritual folks in order to satisfy their own greed, and quite often, perverse sexual proclivities.

Even if they had a temporary reprieve from those creeps, Robert knew they would pop up again somewhere—probably with a new name and a new game plan, but he’d be waiting for them. And as soon as he got involved, the nightmares would start up again.

Sometimes Nina would beg him to quit, tell him to go teach community college or get a job at Home Haven stacking lumber—anything other than what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop, and she knew it. He had his mission in life. He tightened his arm around her and kissed her forehead. The only upside to those nightmares was that they reminded him how lucky he was to be alive.

# # #

John, good to see you again.

Gary. The two men shook hands briefly, then John smiled, opening his arms. Theophilus, welcome home. John embraced his younger brother, then stepped back to look at him. You look good, Theo, really good.

Thanks, Johnny. Truth be told, he wasn’t feeling all that great, but being home, seeing his brother and Tyla and the others, always gave him a lift. He was glad now that Gary had more or less insisted they make the trip together. He needed some cheering up, but driving clear across North Carolina in late July, without a working air conditioner, just wasn’t something a sane person would do. Gary’s Mercedes, on the other hand, with its leather seats, built-in techno toys, and North Pole temps, made the trip rather pleasant.

Let’s sit down. John indicated a picnic table that overlooked an open field. The open area was surrounded by a high stone wall, and behind that, a dense woods, populated with pines, oaks, and cedars. In the distance, the outline of the Blue Ridge Mountains made for a spectacular backdrop.

Theo stood a moment, drinking in the scenery, which included ten or fifteen children running around, laughing, and playing some sort of game in the field. He breathed deeply of the cool, fresh mountain air. Yeah, definitely much better weather up here in the summer. He missed this place. But he missed some things about the Triangle area, too.

Theo, you joining us? His brother snapped him out of his reverie.

Oh, yeah. Theo quickly sat with them.

Gary set a briefcase on top of the table and opened it. He pulled out some papers and some little bottles of various colored liquids and began explaining some complicated thing about chemicals to John. John was super smart. He’d even gone away to college for a really long time. That was how he knew Gary Goldman. Theo wanted to pay attention to the conversation, but they were talking way over his head. He scanned the area, looking to see who else might be around.

The two men stopped talking abruptly and looked toward Theo. Oh, crap, had they asked him a question?

Unca Teo!

No, no, baby, not now. They’re busy. We’ll talk to Uncle Theo later.

Theo whirled around to see his niece and nephew behind him. Kimmy, who was twelve, was scooping up her baby brother, ready to carry him off.

Gary looked at John, Yours?

John laughed, Aren’t they all? Gary looked a bit uncomfortable at that, but John eased his pain. Yeah, this one’s mine. He reached an arm out towards the pretty blonde girl and waved her over. She stepped closer to him, looking a bit uncomfortable herself. John grabbed her chin in his hand and turned her face toward Gary, Don’t ya see the resemblance?

Gary smiled, Sure. Lovely girl.

Yeah, and all grown up now, too. John smiled at his daughter, looking her up and down. Even Theo was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

Now this one, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about. John reached over and ruffled the curly brown hair on the little boy’s head. I think he looks a lot like my brother, don’t you?

Gary didn’t answer that one, and Theo was starting to feel a whole lot uncomfortable then.

You know what? I’m starting to get hungry. John gave the girl’s shoulder a squeeze. Kim, go find your mother. Tell her we need some chow.

Yes, Father, right away. She looked more than relieved to have an excuse to get away from them.

Theo, why don’t you go with her? I’m sure Tyla will be very happy to see you.

Yeah, sure. Theo got up and followed after Kimmy. Clearly, his brother wanted him gone from the conversation for some reason. He didn’t mind. He understood that it was best that not everyone know everything about an operation, and he was no longer concerned about his position. He had proved himself useful, even critical, in their last little adventure, and he had no doubt he would be included next time.

In the meantime, though, he was happy to go looking for Tyla. She was the only woman who could make him forget about Josie for a while.

# # #

A muffled version of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony emitted from Josie’s bag where it rested on Nic’s couch. Ugh, I forgot to turn it off. Sorry, Nic.

He swallowed the bite of shrimp scampi in his mouth before he answered, Go ahead. The caller deserves to be rewarded for reaching you with the phone turned on and a little battery power left. Give him the thrill of a live response. He motioned toward her plate with his fork, You were done, right?

She raised an eyebrow as she got up from the table, Like there’s anything left?

Not anymore, he said, forking the last remaining shrimp from the platter in the center of the table, and holding it an inch from his mouth.

She grinned at him, as she pulled the phone out of her bag. Reading the screen, she exclaimed, Diana! He knew Josie would want to talk to the friend who had survived the ordeal at the Women’s Center, so he waved his encouragement to her to take her time and started clearing the table.

He never minded cleaning up a meal when there was so little left to clean. For a woman of small stature and with excesses of flesh only in the places one would want them to be, Josie could certainly pack it away. After spending so many years with Linda, the human calorie-counting-calculator, it was pure pleasure for Nic to watch a woman licking her lips before and after every morsel of food she consumed.

He smiled to himself as he watched her from the kitchen. She was folded up in the window seat, her long, colorful skirt draping down to the floor. Twenty-eight stories up and clearly immune to the fear of heights that she had teased Shawn about, Josie was laughing and talking and filled with excitement about whatever Diana had called to tell her. Expressions like Omigosh! and No way! and That’s amazing! reached his ears over the sound of the running water and clanking dishes in front of him. He was glad to see her so happy. And he was really glad to have finally gotten her up here again. It had been six weeks since she’d come to his apartment for that business meeting with Shawn, and that time, she’d been tricked into it. Though he’d seen her many times since then, he was pretty sure if he’d asked her up before now, she would have said no, so he hadn’t asked.

He glanced toward the door of his apartment, which could clearly be seen from the kitchen, and remembered how, on that first visit, when he’d come over to get the wine bottle, he’d noticed that either she or Shawn had propped his door open to the hallway. He hadn’t been insulted; it was supposed to be a business meeting—it was just a matter of propriety. He had found in the intervening six weeks, however, that propriety figured rather prominently in dating Miss Natale. It was rather more like dating women in his own country than what he’d become accustomed to in the U.S.

Not that he was complaining. He found the trampy, disrespectful behavior of a lot of the young people in his adopted country rather distasteful, but on the other hand, he sometimes wondered if Josie hadn’t had an excessively strict upbringing. Maybe her parents were some of those Southern Baptists he’d heard about. Though they’d never actually spoken of it, it had been clear from their very first date, that when Nic was in Josie’s condo, the door to the breezeway—and thus to the eyes and ears of her many devoted friends and neighbors—stayed open, and that was that. It was only after the incident at the Women’s Center that Josie had seen her way clear to shutting the door behind them. It had made him feel as though he’d finally reached the tenth level in a children’s video game, and given him the courage to offer to cook her dinner in the penthouse.

He dried his hands on the towel that hung over the oven handle, then refilled his wine glass, and added the two or three ounces necessary to bring hers back up to the top. Unfortunately, Josie didn’t appear to share Nic’s passion for fine wines. Try as he might to select ones that would really delight her, she never seemed to drink more than a glass or two of anything. Oh, well, no one’s perfect. He carried the two glasses out into the sitting area and set them on the coffee table.

When she saw him, she swung her legs off the window seat, turning off the phone as she did so. Perfect timing: you washed, I talked. I can’t think of a better end to a meal. She hopped down from the window seat and walked up to him, grinning.

Well, that was not the end. There is still dessert.

Dessert? You know, I can’t believe this is me saying this, but I don’t think I have room. You are such a marvelous cook. She put her hand on her belly. Maybe we can wait a while?

Mmm...okay. I’m sure I can think of something to fill the time...

Nicolas! she scolded, feigning shock.

He grinned, but scooped her closer with one hand on her back, the other, as always, finding its way through the tangle of waves to position her head for a kiss. She responded readily, easily, but then just as quickly pulled back. Wait, you! she said, her eyes twinkling. I want to tell you something.

He let his head roll back on his neck, pretending great pain, then clasped her hands and led her to the couch. So tell me, my dear, what is it?

She was instantly sideways on the couch, her feet up under her, bubbling with excitement. You’ll never guess! Diana just told me. Someone has made a huge donation to the Women’s Center. I mean, huge, maybe the biggest donation the place’s ever had! They must have heard about the break-in and gone into a fit of generosity or something. It was an anonymous donor, can you believe that? I’ve heard of things like that, but I never really thought...do you think they still get their tax deduction when they do that? ’Cause that’s a lot of money when it’s that big a donation, ya know? I’ll ask Lester—Di’s husband, remember? He’s an accountant. Anyway, it’s gonna be enough to fix everything up and do a lot of that security stuff you and Robert recommended. The Center will be like a whole new place. Diana is just beside herself. Isn’t it wonderful?

Finally, a breath. There had been several questions in there, but never a pause long enough to suggest a response was warranted, so Nic had done his best to follow along, in case anything came up that necessitated his comment. Even now, he hesitated a moment to be sure she was through; he’d hate to interrupt when she was on such a roll. Her face was flush with enthusiasm, and he found himself as much distracted as he was fascinated by it. The color in her cheeks, the sparkle in her green-brown-grey eyes, those long, thick lashes, luscious red lips—wait, wasn’t he supposed to be answering a question? Yes, honey, that sounds wonderful.

Mmm hmm, so now, we can go there and work, and we can even work at night—

Whoa. With me, you mean. Right?

Enthusiasm changed to petulance. Her shoulders drooped. The sparkle went out of her eyes. Nic, I appreciate your concern, but I’m not a child. I won’t go by myself, only with Diana, and now that we’ve run those Warrior people out of town on a rail, and with all the new security—

Ugh. Nice going, Nic. Made her feel childish and stupid. She is a grown woman, after all. Way to go, mood killer. He gave her a considerate smile. Oh, uh, sure, honey. I didn’t mean you needed my permission. I just meant that maybe I could go along with you and set up all the latest security programs for them on their new system.

Really? That would be fantastic. Sure, we could go together, and you know what? They probably didn’t even lose but that one day of data, because I was there the day before, and I backed everything up for them, so I can get it all restored, and then you can do your thing... A note of pride had entered her voice, and the sparkle was returning to her eyes.

Whew! Good save, big guy.

She went on, Um, you know they probably can’t afford to pay you anything, right?

Yes, I kind of figured that. Then he winked at her, But I was hoping the fringe benefits...

Josie rose up off her heels so they were eye to eye and threw her arms around his neck, Oh you were, were you?

Mmm hmm. He put his hands on either side of her waist and pulled her close, so she was within inches of his face. Then he stopped suddenly, pushing her back down. "Now, you wait a minute! There was something I wanted to tell you, or ask you, anyway."

She sat back down on her heels and folded her hands in her lap, apparently trying to look demure, and said, Okay, go ahead.

He set his big hand on top of hers. Miss Natale, I am going on a trip next week, and I was wondering if you would come with me.

The look of shell shock on her face was worth the tease. He only left her twisting for a couple seconds before adding, "A day trip, Josie. To Ft. Chelsea. I have a meeting with Major Huntley there next Friday. Robert was supposed to go with me, but he cannot make it down. One of the reasons we decided to move down here was to be closer to Chelsea. Especially when we are doing the seminars two and three days a week—all that driving gets really old. Anyway, I thought maybe you would come with me instead."

You want me to fill in for Robert?

You don’t have to go to the meeting, honey. You can just bring some work, and when I am done—should only be a couple hours—we can go down to the harbor. It is beautiful there, all restored shops and galleries and restaurants. Have you ever been?

Mmm, a few times, but years ago. Maggie and I used to go sometimes when we were in school. Whenever she and Shawn would have a big fight, we’d road trip down, hang out in the seedy bars, and get drunk with the soldiers.

Y-you did?

Well, maybe it was more like downing hot fudge sundaes on the docks, but the mere thought that we might be doing the other was usually enough to make Shawn straighten up.

Nic rolled his eyes, Women.

If I went with you, could we get hot fudge sundaes on the docks?

Unless you would rather get drunk with the soldiers...

When she hesitated a moment and then asked, Could we do both? he turned toward her, grabbed her sides just below the ribcage, and began mercilessly tickling her until she begged and pleaded and promised to go with him on Friday.

With the promise extracted, and each having told what they needed to tell, there was nothing else to wait for. He stopped the tortuous tickling and just held her, one hand sliding up her back until it found the nape of her neck, wrapping its fingers round the base of her skull. There was something he loved about rummaging around in that soft, tangled web to find the hard shell beneath—the ultimate source of all things Josie. He also found it the easiest way to keep the energetic little woman’s head in one place long enough to engage her lips in something other than eating, laughing, or asking nosy questions. Which was not to say that she was a reluctant engagee; for a woman so preoccupied with propriety, he found her enormously passionate. From the simple way that her delicate fingers would brush and play with his hair, to the way her whole torso felt sliding up against him when she pushed up on her toes to reach his lips (an impossible task without his also bending over), to the way her breath would catch when he buried his face along her neck, dragging his lips across her collarbone and below to her breastbone and then below that to where the flesh became softer and fuller, until she would inevitably do or say something, as she did this evening, in a husky voice, um...um...Nic...didn’t you say something about...um...dessert? At which point, he would always, with great effort, push himself away from her and try to smile.

On this particular evening, after straightening her blouse, Josie was the first to reach for her glass of wine, and after taking a good swallow, commented, Mmm. Buttery.

Without tasting his again, Nic agreed, Yes, buttery. Then he rose, somewhat stiff-legged, from the couch, and proceeded to walk around the coffee table. Unfortunately, he managed to catch his shin on the corner of it, and when Josie interrupted his muttered Spanish epithets with a word of sympathy, he merely held up a hand to indicate that he was uninjured.

As he nursed the shin bruise a moment later, leaning against the kitchen counter, it did give him some comfort to watch her retrieve a tissue from her bag and dab beads of sweat off her face and neck. It was good to know he was not the only one saving money on his hot water bill lately.

He returned to the sitting area with two pieces of cheesecake, drizzled in both raspberry and chocolate sauce (his sister Angela’s recipe), to find Josie once again bubbling with enthusiasm. Cheesecake? You can make cheesecake? I love cheesecake!

You love cheesecake and flan and cannolis and Belgian Chocolates...is there anything you don’t like?