The rest of the night's memories followed.

“Miss Gallagher?”

I tensed at the sound of my name. I hadn't been able to help it. I didn’t hate cops, didn’t distrust them, per se. But they’d made my life hell, had made my family’s life hell back when Vic had gotten in trouble. They'd assumed some of us – if not all of us – had been involved in the crap he’d been doing.

The FBI agent had noticed my flinch and had lifted a trim black eyebrow. Her skin had been a lovely shade of warm brown, and she smiled as she'd come into the room and sat down. “Don’t like cops, huh?”

“You’re with the FBI,” I'd said without thinking. “That’s actually scarier than the cops.”

She'd just chuckled. “You’re very blunt, Miss Gallagher…or is it Dr. Gallagher?”

“Not yet.” I'd grimaced at the thought of the final I'd had coming up the next morning and the notes I needed to study.

It hadn't ended up mattering. I hadn't gone in to take it. I'd still have a C even if I didn't retake the test. After a lifetime of perfection, one fucking C had barely even registered.

“Must be hard, working a job like this and still going to school.”

I'd shrugged. “I’ve always had to work. It’s nothing new.” I hadn't understood why she'd been asking about work rather than the phone call.

“I hear ya on that. I’ve been there.” She'd smiled. “Special Agent Dionne Marcum, by the way. Man, I tell you…I look around this place, see all this money. I had to do what you did, bust my ass all the way through, working a job, sometimes two, and there would be some of these kids with their silver spoon choking them as they complained about how hard it was getting up for a nine a.m. class.”

I'd leaned back, studying her. “I know the type.”

“You’re working for the type,” she'd countered.

“Isadora’s a doll. She’s not a complainer.” I'd blown out a sigh. “Please tell me you all have something.”

“I wish I could.”

Off in the distance, I'd heard Ash – Mr. Lang – his voice big and harsh. Dionne had grimaced. “That one isn’t a doll. Why'd you come in today?”

“Because she wanted me to do a job for her, and…” I'd stopped. It hadn't been easy to say. “I’m scared. I’m worried about her. Being here…well, I was hoping I’ll hear good news here, rather than something bad on the news.”

She'd continued to study me. She'd had a good game face, but hey, I’d grown up with Victor. I'd known when I was being played and I'd seen the wheels churning, see them spinning in her head. Tired of the game, I'd leaned forward, elbows braced on the edge of the desk. It was neatly organized, everything I needed within reach, including a computer that was so top of the line, I didn't think it was even on the market yet.

“Can I make this easy on both of us?” I'd said softly.

There had been just the tiniest break in her it’s just us girls mask. Then she'd cocked her eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Look…” I'd hitched up a shoulder. “I'll give you credit. You're good at this – really good. But you can stop with the trying to bond with me thing. Just ask your questions.”

The friendly look had drained out of her eyes and she'd cocked her head, indicated that I should continue.

“Let’s just say I had a good crash course when it comes to cops. I know a routine when I see one.” I'd given her a wry smile and shrugged. “You already pointed out that I’m blunt. I am. And I prefer it when people are the same with me. I gave your buddy over there everything the kidnapper said to me on the phone. What else do you want to know?”

“Fair enough,” Dionne had said, giving me an appraising smile. “So let’s look at it like this. You’re busting your ass through school. Had a job that made it…well, easier. Not easy, though. But you could study, and it let you take the time you needed. Then life kicks you in the face, and you lose that job, had to find another. Here you are, working with people in the lap of luxury. Isadora Lang? If she wanted to, she’d never need to do anything but spend money and she wouldn't run out. Isn’t that rough?”

“No. Why would it be?” I'd answered honestly and kept my eyes steady on her.

Dionne had leaned forward. “Toni, you have the smarts, drive and determination to do anything. But you had to work. You had a full ride offered to you, only to have it taken away because of things your brother did. That’s hardly fair.”

“Can I share a secret?” I'd dropped my voice. “Life’s not fair. You learn to deal with it.”

She'd started to say something else and I'd lifted a hand. I was tired of it by then. They needed to be out trying to track down the caller, not questioning me about my life.

“Nothing else.” I'd said. “I get what you’re poking at. Somebody decided that it was plausible that I might have gotten drawn into this because I’m hard up for money. Somebody offered me easy money…nobody would be hurt. I just had to do what they asked…how close am I?”

Dionne had shrugged, her gaze shrewd. “Close enough that I imagine you watch a lot of Law & Order or NCIS. Plenty of people get the rough idea of what they think happens, Miss Gallagher.”

“Yeah, well. I lived it.” Thinking about what happened with Victor had been enough to turn my stomach. If I'd had anything left in it, I might've thrown up again. “I lived it. It almost destroyed my family. If you think I would do something like that…”

She'd nodded and rose from her chair, heading toward the door. Halfway there, she'd paused and looked back. “If it helps? Personally, I don’t think you would. But personally can’t come into play here. It’s about the job and what can be proved.”

We'd stared at each other for a moment and then she'd nodded, turned around and left.

Things hadn't gotten any better from there. Like right now. It was Thursday morning and I was back at the Lang house, trying to find out what was going on. No one had told me anything.

I hovered outside the office, hardly daring to breathe. I had my eyes closed, and I kept having to unclench my hands from the fists I’d unconsciously knotted them into.

I wanted to barge inside and demand to know what was going on.

Not that it would do much good. Mr. Lang wasn’t talking to me. He hadn't since he'd screamed at me two days ago.

So I was reduced to this. Sneaking outside the door to Mr. Lang's office. Just beyond the door, I could hear people talking.

“…sorry. There was just no reason to hold him.” It was one of the FBI agents. I couldn’t remember the name.

“What do you mean you had no reason to hold him?” Ash snapped. His voice I knew. Even if I wished I didn't.

“Holding him any longer than we did would have been a violation of Mr. Stevens’ rights. There is simply no indication he’s involved. His alibi is ironclad and—”

“I don’t want to hear about anybody’s rights when my sister is still missing!” Ash shouted.

My heart ached for him and I couldn't quite hate myself for it. No matter how I felt about him right now, his sister was missing.

“What about her rights?”

“We're looking, Mr. Lang.” That firm no, nonsense voice…I recognized that one. Marcum. “But your sister’s boyfriend had an alibi, and there’s no sign he’s involved in this.”

“What do you expect him to do? Hang a sign in his window? Kidnapped woman – ask me for details?”

I closed my eyes at the angry desperation in his voice even as I eased away from the door. If I kept standing here, I’d get noticed by one of the household staff. They wouldn't yell at me, but it'd be awkward.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Lang. We’ve been monitoring his calls, his whereabouts, everything. He’s not involved…oh, hello.”

Marcum had opened the door. With her was a tall man, his blond hair already thinning. Marcum didn’t look surprised. The guy looked a bit thrown to see me there, but he covered quickly. The two lawyers busied themselves with lawyerly things while the thickly muscled man at Ash’s shoulder just stared at me. He was a member of Ash’s security detail. He'd stared at me quite a bit since I was hired.