Chapter Sixty-Two
The lights were on, but no one was home at Courtney Thane’s home. Chance returned to his truck. He’d parked in front and a neighbor would call the cops on him if he continued to lurk. Maybe they already had.
Once again, he double-checked the address that Parker had given him. It matched the address number on the bronze mailbox at the foot of the double stairs. Chance called Parker again.
“Status update?” Jared barked instead of Parker’s affable hello.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not much to share.”
“Damn these Thanes. Always causing problems.”
Chance shifted. Perspiration dampened the back of his neck.
The stuffy air in his truck did him no favors as the night seemed to warm.
Between that and Boss Man barking at him, he’d have preferred to get out of his truck.
But if he hadn’t scared the neighbors yet, he didn’t want Jared’s booming growl to do the trick. “She didn’t know I was coming.”
“She would’ve if she’d answered the phone.”
Courtney Thane had to be the polar opposite of her brother. She shied away from the pomp of her family’s wealth, stayed offline, and, apparently, didn’t answer her phone after eight at night. “We’re sure she’s in DC?”
“Yeah, we’re sure.” Then, not to Chance, Jared demanded, “We’re sure she’s in DC?”
“Affirmative,” Parker supplied in the background.
Headlights turned onto the street. It didn’t see a lot of traffic.
None of which had slowed like this Mercedes was now.
Chance squinted to see the driver. Definitely a woman, but despite the glowing streetlights, her shadowed profile wouldn’t allow him to identify Courtney Thane.
“What do you have on a dark silver Mercedes. Tags—” He checked his sideview mirror.
The orange turn signal blinked. “It’s her. Gotta go.”
The Mercedes disappeared into the alley. He hung up and jumped out of the truck, giving her thirty seconds to drive down the alley, wait for the gate, then pull into her garage.
He bounded up the stairs again and waited for a thirty count. Through the decorative, clear glass panes along the door, Chance didn’t see movement.
Forty seconds passed. Then fifty. After a full minute, he wondered if she’d spotted him lurking. He pulled out his phone and tried her cell phone number again. No answer. Just like his and Titan’s calls before. Damn it.
Seemingly far from the front foyer, a light turned out. Then another. Courtney had finally made it inside and was apparently on her way to bed. He knocked. No answer. The last of the first-floor lights turned out. Then she moved slowly into the hall.
Chance knocked again, wishing he’d thought to bring night-vision goggles. What was she waiting for? Hesitantly, she stepped closer until he was certain she was at the peephole.
“I work for your brother,” Chance called loud enough to penetrate the heavy wood door.
But that revelation didn’t gain him entry.
Though, why would it? Her brother was batshit crazy and, according to Jane, Courtney Thane knew it.
“My name is Chance Evans. I work for the security company employed by your brother,” he tried again, “Titan Group.”
“If you don’t leave,” her whisper floated from an unseen intercom speaker. “I’ll summon the police.”
“For all the waiting I’ve done, they’re probably on their way.”
“What do you want?”
He ran a hand over his face, not sure what would convince her to open the door. “A conversation about Dax and Gigi.”
“No.”
“It’s important. If you would check your phone. My boss has been reaching out to you.”
She didn’t respond.
Maybe Chance should’ve watched Teddy, and Jane could have come for Courtney instead. “You have to trust me.”
Waiting for her felt like years. Finally, she added, “I don’t.”
Chance had hoped the delays meant she’d been checking her phone. “It’s about Teddy.”
She didn’t answer. He continued to wait, mentally willing her to open the door. No dice. She must’ve gone to bed. He dropped his head back—the door cracked open.
His chin snapped down, then his stomach dropped. Courtney clutched her phone while holding a sleeping little boy to her chest.
“Teddy…” Chance couldn’t breathe. “What’s going on?”
“I listened to the voicemails,” she replied, not lessening his growing panic. “Your name again?”
“Chance Evans.”
Courtney narrowed her eyes but stepped back. “Come in and close the door. I’m going to put him to bed.”
Chance wanted to steamroll her with questions but bit his tongue and agreed with a lift of his chin.
He locked the door, then walked into a formal living room.
Leather-bound books lined the walls—and toys lined the floor.
In the corner, an art easel waited to be used again, while a row of Teddy’s artwork lined the windowsill, haphazardly taped in place like the little boy had been allowed to do it himself.
His heart raced as he walked farther in. Wood furniture gleamed, no less beautiful under a pile of coloring books. The sofa and couches matched, upholstered in dark blue silk, but they looked comfortable and, dare he think it, well-used.
Carefully, Chance lowered himself onto the couch. It was comfortable, and though he was still alarmed, he felt a sense of family.
Courtney returned, folding her arms over her chest. She stayed at the edge of the living room, wary. Chance wasn’t certain of everything that made her cautious, but he didn’t want to be on that list. “I apologize for barging in on you.”
“It’s been one of those nights.”
He swallowed hard and pressed his hands to his knees—but stopped himself from rising. He wanted her to trust him, and with no more than a few voicemails and messages, he was on shaky ground. “How much did my boss say?”
“Enough to allow you in the door.”
His heart raced. “Is Teddy okay?”
“I need a glass of water.” She nudged her head and left. “Would you like one, too?”
“All right,” he said, on her heels.
Courtney filled two glasses with tap water and gestured for him to sit at the table. “You’re the one who bedded Gigi?”
He cringed. Jane had warned him that Courtney didn’t pull punches. But the thought of touching Gigi made his stomach roil. “I’m the guy they’d like you to think bedded Gigi.”
Courtney regarded him carefully, then handed him the glass of water. She sat in the chair across the table and set hers down, untouched.
“Before I jump into everything. I need to know.” His pulsed raced. “Why do you have Teddy?”
“My brother and his wife are off on another trip, and their nanny called in sick.”
Fuck. He needed to speak with Jane immediately. “Excuse me a second. I need to make a call—”
With the razor-tipped edge of an ice-cold stare, Courtney denied him. “Sit down.”
His jaw clenched until white spots danced in his vision. Alarm and terror seesawed in his chest. If Chance didn’t speak with Jane soon, he’d explode. But if he didn’t listen to Courtney, he’d lose valuable intel and a possible ally. Agitated, he took a seat.
“What urgent conversation demanded phone calls from the Titan Group and a visit from Gigi’s—” She stopped herself. “A visit from their security personnel.”
Chance didn’t know where to start. “We’re concerned—”
“Concerned?” Courtney massaged her temples.
“What are you going to tell me that I don’t already know?
My brother’s a manic asshole? His wife’s a self-centered bitch?
They’re hopelessly addicted to attention the way some junkies crave a needle?
I know.” Her hands dropped to the table, and she couldn’t hide her exhaustion. “Trust me, I know.”
“I left their house after dinner with Jane and Teddy. She wasn’t ill. If she got sick, she would’ve called me.” He leaned forward. “Jane’s the reason I came to find you. She’s scared for Teddy. But, since Teddy’s here? I’m scared for her.”
Courtney’s eyebrows drew together. She tapped the pad of her index finger along the table as her wheels turned.
“Dax and Gigi had left,” Chance emphasized. “They didn’t know I was home with Jane and Teddy.”
Courtney’s finger tapped faster. “Call Jane.”
Chance laid the phone in the center of the table and called, pressing the speakerphone button. A flash of her contact picture—a selfie of them—flashed before the first ring. Courtney lifted her gaze to him, but she didn’t question the way Chance had held Jane.
Voicemail picked up. He gripped the edge of the table as he listened to her recorded message. “Hey, MP. It’s important you call me back.” He ended the call and shot off a text message with the same request.
“You didn’t say where you were,” Courtney pointed out.
“I don’t know why she’s not answering the phone.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “They took Teddy from her—”
“Their nanny.”
“Who’s not sick.” His mind had a hundred nightmare scenarios in queue. “We both know they’re crazy.”
Courtney rubbed her temples again. “But how crazy…”