Chapter 27

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The sun set. Luke was still inside the house, but he'd paced so much the bottom of his shoes must have worn thin. I covered my mouth as I yawned, out of both tiredness and boredom. There was a good reason I delegated surveillance work whenever possible. I'd much rather be out shooting people.

Relax, I was just kidding.

Maybe.

At six, Luke lay back on the bed and dozed, which meant I got some sleep myself without bloody movement alarms going off. That relief was short-lived, however, because at nine he got up and resumed his now familiar route. Through the hall to the kitchen. Turn. Back to the front door. Turn. In every step, his fear and frustration was evident, and it hurt to watch.

I got out of the car for a stretch and another pee then huddled under the blanket again. The car thermometer said six degrees, and I swore under my breath—the bloody kidnapper could at least have picked the summer to make his move. Throughout his torturous routine, Luke kept glancing at his watch. What was he waiting for?

I found out at midnight when he climbed into his SUV, carrying the holdall. A ransom drop?

I sure hoped so. All that waiting had given me too much time to think, and there were only so many times I could go through things in my head without second guessing myself. I was always happier getting on with things.

With the tracker still on Luke's car, I didn't need to follow too closely. I hung back and watched the other vehicles instead, but I didn't spot anyone else tailing him. The M40 motorway was quiet at that time of night, and it didn't take long for Luke to drive north a couple of junctions before winding his way through the countryside again.

I dropped back further on the narrow lanes. It was either that or turn my lights off, and I didn't fancy crashing. I didn't even know who this car was registered to—sorting out the aftermath of an accident would be a bureaucratic nightmare. Luke was two miles ahead when his car stopped moving. I sped up to catch him, flicking my headlights off when I got close. A three-quarter moon bathed the countryside in a dim glow, and ghosts danced as trees and bushes swayed in the wind.

The only thing pitch-black was my mind.

The tracker put Luke's vehicle in a woodland car park, and I pulled up at the entrance. What was waiting in there? I needed to find out, so I reversed the BMW up an overgrown track further along the lane before returning on foot.

That sodding nursery rhyme came into my head again. If you go down to the woods tonight... The last time I had a surprise in the woods, I'd discovered Tia wasn't actually Satan's daughter. I was certain tonight's wouldn't be quite so pleasant.

The pale moonlight threw long, soft shadows over the waiting forest. My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, but it was still difficult to spot anything in the foreboding tangle of tree limbs rising up in front of me, the night-time playground of rabbits, foxes, deer, and of course, little old me.

Luke was nowhere to be seen, and I cursed in my head. I'd have given my Aston Martin to have a tracker in the duffel bag. Ahead of me, paths branched off into the woods, left and right. Which one did he take?

I listened out for a clue. The crack of a twig, maybe, or the soft thunk of footsteps on the humus-strewn ground. Nothing. Just the low hoot of an owl as it whispered through the bare branches overhead.

Messy footprints littered the damp ground—evidently, the place was popular with walkers. Which were Luke's? He wore a size nine, but that didn't narrow it down. Okay, time for infrared goggles. I slipped the slim rucksack off my back, but I'd barely opened it when a shout came from my left. Luke. The words might have been muffled, but I recognised the voice, and the argumentative tone meant I had no time to waste.

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