Chapter Three
Callum closed his apartment door with a dull thud. His bootsteps echoed, reminding him of how alone he was in Granite Creek. The floor creaked under his feet, making the space feel that much emptier.
Grace was alive.
Grace was in trouble.
The truth looped through his head. He and Hayden needed to speak. Callum had tried, but every call went straight to voicemail. Likely out of pocket with his former teammates. He could call their parents, but what would he say? Nothing that would help the situation.
He crossed the apartment in a few strides. The empty space was all the reminder he needed that he was Titan’s new guy without roots. The air conditioning kicked on to fight the August heat and break the overwhelming silence in his apartment.
He didn’t like the quiet. It reminded him of everything that was missing.
No chatter from the guys he’d risked his life with for years, no clatter of weapons being broken down and cleaned, no smell of chow that was half-plastic and half-edible.
Just the faint hum of cool air blowing, the small fridge purring, and the occasional groan of old floorboards beneath his boots.
He dropped onto the couch that had come with the apartment.
The furnishings were cheap and foam and inconsequential.
The generic brown couch and chair matched the uninspiring four blank walls, which at one point had been a neutral beige.
After years of wear and tear, the walls were more like a collage of scuffs and fingerprints.
His basic one-bedroom came with a monthly lease. No commitment to go with his lack of personal details. No pictures, no mementos. Just furniture he hadn’t cared enough to replace when the landlord offered the basics.
He didn’t have to live in this shoebox of an apartment.
When he first arrived, Vivian had promised him housing to complement the hefty paycheck until he found a place that he wanted to call home.
He ignored the offer, not knowing why, and chose this place instead.
It wasn’t a shithole, but it wasn’t far off.
Callum’s head ached. He should throw a party. Grace was alive. But he hadn’t arrived at the point of celebrating yet.
Why in the hell hadn’t Hayden looped him in? The anger and betrayal flared again. He wanted to get in Hayden’s face and, if he saw Grace—when he saw Grace, he would… Would do what? Fuck, he didn’t know. Demand answers. Shake her until she apologized. He’d said goodbye. She was just gone.
Except she wasn’t.
Callum pinched his eyes closed. Not that long ago, he’d messed up enough for the Army to unceremoniously boot his ass to the curb. Vivian offered him a job when plenty of others wouldn’t touch him. Even if he didn’t think he had done anything wrong, Titan was Callum’s second chance.
Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he didn’t. That largely depended on who was asked.
Did Grace deserve a second chance?
Of course.
At least, probably.
He couldn’t compare their second chances, though. His was simple: an order ignored. He’d do it again—no hesitation—even if the memory still haunted him. Wrong on paper. Right in every way that mattered. The kind of thing that branded him a liability.
Callum leaned back and stared at the ceiling. White paint of varying shades was patched over stains and scuffs. No matter where he went, he always looked at the damn ceiling like it could tell him a secret.
What did this place say? Nothing he wanted to admit.
He exhaled hard. The sound bounced back off the bare walls.
Tomorrow, he would find Grace. Save Grace. Be whatever Grace needed. That, at least, he understood. Protecting others was in his bones. The rest—figuring out if he belonged anywhere outside a battlefield—he’d learn on the fly.
The next morning Callum woke with a better attitude and a refreshed sense of the world. The drab apartment and his new job didn’t bother him as much. Sleep was a miracle drug. He needed to remember that anytime sleep deprivation came calling.
He planned to check in with headquarters first thing for an update, but Dean beat him to it with a plan of action and a location pinpointed in Maryland.
According to Dean’s research, the library was an hour’s drive from the grocery store where she’d last been seen.
Seemed promising. He scrolled through the report.
Devices that Dean believed were associated with Grace had logged hours using the library’s Wi-Fi.
She had used the library’s internet to communicate and submit work on a freelancer website.
He checked the drive time. The location in Maryland wasn’t close. He’d get there in a few hours.
Callum packed his go bag with fresh clothes and work essentials and searched his sparsely filled kitchen. Pretzels and beef jerky would have to do for breakfast on the road.
The bright summer sun reflected off the interstate. Traffic was surprisingly light, and he made good time. Callum spotted the public library on a semi-busy main drag lined with mature trees and pulled into the large parking lot.
Grace might be in there.
He thought about the photo he’d found the night before after spending far too much time scrolling through his personal phone’s album.
The picture was from the summer he and Hayden had graduated from West Point.
She had just finished her first year of college, and the way she looked at him had Callum crawling out of his skin.
There was not a single quiet or nervous bone in her body, and she’d given Callum and Hayden hell for simply existing.
They were too loud. Too cocky. Too muscle-headed. Too much of everything.
Her mouth had been running a mile a minute, but he had heard little of what she’d said because he’d been staring like a moron. Grace had told him to take a picture if he was going to stare. Hayden had snorted, missing Callum’s reaction to her, and Callum had said, “Fuck it,” and taken the picture.
He’d probably looked at that picture a thousand times later that night. But he had been by himself. To the world, he hadn’t betrayed a single thought about Grace. It had taken all his self-control, but that’s what West Point had trained him to do. Control everything.
Maybe that was why he had no more pictures of only Grace since that day.
Control everything, and everything would be controlled.
Except this was as far out of control as he could imagine. He needed to find that focus again. He had a job to do: locate Grace.
The early afternoon sun beat down. Heat radiated in wavy lines at the far corner of the parking lot as he rolled over a speed bump.
Why did Grace spend so much time at this library?
Given how she could hide her tracks, she was more than capable of setting up a VPN and using the internet from anywhere.
Callum mentally ran through Dean’s report again. Her online footprint was negligible for a woman whose livelihood depended on the internet. She had evaded them all.
He eased off the gas and waved across a woman dragging a red wagon in one hand and a wriggling kid in the other, then parked in a shaded spot where he could see everything: the entry to the lot and the library and every minivan fighting for the spot nearest the entrance.
The whole scene served as another reminder that this wasn’t his usual assignment.
Then again, he hadn’t worked here long enough to have a usual assignment.
He called the control room at headquarters.
Dean picked up on the first ring. “You there already?”
“Yeah. Learn anything else that might help?”
“Grace was surprisingly good at staying out of sight. I’ve been sifting through her previous clients and found a nearby residential address where she sometimes transmitted work from. The homeowner works at the library.”
“That sounds like more than a coincidence.” Callum rubbed his chin. “So we’re moving in the right direction.”
“Affirmative, though we can’t find a connection between her and the owner, a woman named Alicia Jackson.
But here’s the kicker: other than time at the library and at this woman’s house, we don’t have a single connection between Grace and this area.
No lease. No bills. Not even a gas station fill-up.
” Dean grumbled. “I called the library to confirm Alicia’s employment, but whoever answered the phone was unsure. ”
“This place doesn’t look that big. You’d know your coworkers.”
“That’s what I thought, too. Let me know if you get anything.”
“Roger that.” Callum ended the call and headed inside.
The double doors whooshed open and wrapped him inside with a cold burst of air.
Bright signs directed him to the children’s section, periodicals, and the circulation desk in front of the adult section.
There was more noise than he had expected, though he hadn’t been in a library for longer than he wanted to admit.
His casual clothes hid his purpose, but he couldn’t help but feel out of place. Callum bypassed a teenager with a volunteer badge at the returns desk and headed toward the computer stations, which occupied two large tables. He swept the terminals for Grace.
Most stations were in use. Lady Luck would have been on his side if Grace had been sitting at one of the computers. But no, that would have been far too easy. He eyed the study desks that lined the walls. Again, no Grace, and wandering through the small space, he stopped at the circulation desk.
The librarian, a tall woman with umber skin and loose coiled hair, offered a welcoming smile as she nudged her glasses up her nose. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a friend.” Callum pulled up Grace’s picture on his phone. “Have you seen her in the last few days?”
Her smile faltered. “No, I’m sorry.”
“Are you sure? It’s important.”
Her lips pursed as she pointedly looked him—not the picture—over. “I haven’t seen her. Anything else I can help you with?”
His gaze narrowed on her. Callum tried to get a read. Protective? Cautious? No, something more. Perhaps worried. This was a woman who was protecting another woman, or maybe even a friend watching out for a friend. “You sure?”
She squared her shoulders. “Positive.”
“Her name is Grace Willoughby. Maybe you’ve heard of her?”
“Never.”
“She sometimes uses other names.” He lifted Grace’s picture again, only to be ignored. Callum double-checked the woman for a name tag and found none. “Do you know someone who works here named Alicia Jackson?”
Her eyebrows arched. “She works here?”
This wasn’t working. Callum ran his hand through his hair.
Schmoozing people wasn’t his forte. He should have partnered with someone else on his team for this.
Viv could’ve sent Wes Wilder, the charmer, or even Eli Landry, who was laid back unless someone looked too closely.
Callum’s patience didn’t lend itself to the softness that was required to pull information out of people. “Like I said, it’s important.”
“Are you the police?”
“No. I swear.” He smiled, but that did nothing except add a hint of mistrust in her eyes.
“Either way.” She shrugged. “I haven’t seen her.”
“She might be in trouble.”
“You don’t say?” Saccharine disregard dripped off her words. “That’s a pity. Still haven’t seen her, but I’d be willing to take down your name and number if she comes in. I’ll pass it along. What’s your name?”
He pushed a hand into his hair and tried a different angle. “Let me ask you another question.”
“I guess that means no to your name? But by all means, what else can I help you with?”
“How many people have come in here looking for her?”
“Just you.”
“Would you tell me the truth?”
“Don’t see why not.”
No, Callum definitely wasn’t the best person to send to the library, and forget Wes or Eli. Vivian should have sent their social media maven. Scarlett Wu had a magical effect on people, whether in person or online. This librarian would love Scar. Everybody did.
Callum rocked back on his heels and thought about why Grace would come here again.
She could have used the internet anywhere.
But she’d come back to this library. Maybe the community was safe and anonymous.
Maybe she’d made a personal connection. “Fair enough. If you haven’t seen her, you haven’t seen her. ”
“Like I said—”
“But if you have seen her, and you’re keeping your mouth shut because you think she’s in danger…” He tilted his head. “Good on you.”
The librarian kept her expression blank, a stone-cold alibi. He liked that for Grace, even if it made his job that much harder.
“Grace called her brother for help. Said she was in trouble.” He studied the woman’s face for anything.
Still, nothing. “Her brother’s deployed.
We served together, and he asked me to find her.
” The blank stare didn’t change. “All I want to do is check on her. Just let her brother know all is well.” Callum rolled his lips together and tried one last time. “Are you sure you haven’t seen her?”
“If I had, and I’m not saying I have—” Her gaze skittered behind him. “I, uh—would—uh, could I see that picture again?” She concentrated on him as if every ounce of her being wanted to look over his shoulder.
Callum turned. His breath caught. Her back was turned to him, but he had no doubt that was the woman he’d known most of his life.
With wavy honey-brown hair tied into a messy bun and a cute ass clad in yoga pants, Grace was rushing from him toward the front doors of the library as though someone had entered her into the speedwalking Olympics. “Grace!”