Page 39 of Kidnapping of a Myth

“You’re only making things worse for yourself.” Bel leaned back in her chair as if she held all the cards in this game, as if she was the one in power and not Pann with his knowledge of what she desperately needed. “Tell me where John is before we add a third homicide to your sins.”

“Tick Tock.”

“Very well. I’ll escort you back to holding.” Bel stood, unfazed by her failure. This interview had been merely for show, a last-ditch effort to urge Pann to talk without provocation. She needed the official documents to note that she followed protocol, and without so much as a thread of frustration, she led Pann from the interview room. Her plan had never been to break him verbally. No, this moment had been her intention all along. Ontheir departure from the holding cells, Eamon had stood at their backs, but as they exited the interview room, the massive man came into full and glorious view. He leaned against the wall where she’d left him, tall and all-consuming, and as their eyes met, he understood. He realized why she’d been so particular about his position, for it ensured he was all Pann saw as they moved.

For a moment, the station was still. Wholly unaffected, but then Eamon shifted. He leaned forward slightly. His eyebrows drew closer together, his black eyes darkened, his fists tightened. His transformation was so subtle that one might have missed it if it weren’t for the overwhelming evil flooding the air. Choking terror permeating every inch of space, and even though Bel wasn’t afraid of him, her heart raced with panic. It was a terrifying oppression, a blackness of malice intent, and the second its venom caressed Pann’s skin, the man balked.

He resisted Bel’s hold, trying to retreat into the interview room, but she yanked him forward, her ankle protesting with every step. Pann fought her escort, and the closer they drew to Eamon’s terror, the greater his alarm grew. He strained against her grip, and just went she feared he would break free, he shouted in desperation.

“It was Hook!” he blurted as he fought to escape Eamon’s threatening presence. “Hook made me do it!”

“None of the board members’names remotely resemble Hook,” Bel said as she reached for another slice of margarita pizza. After Pann’s outburst, she’d tried to coax Hook’s identity out of him, but after fifteen minutes of him repeating the same two lines over and over, it became clear Pann wouldn’t reveal who or what the mysterious Hook was. Working with the theory that a board member might be trying to eliminate the Darlings, Bel decided to use her station computer to search the company for a connection, but by the time they’d devoured half of the pizza, she’d found nothing of significance.

“Maybe it’s not a name,” Eamon said, picking up Bel’s discarded crust and popping it into his mouth. While she’d been interviewing Pann, he ordered dinner, knowing she wasobsessed with margarita pizza and that she preferred the cheesy bits with the giant fresh basil leaves over the crust. They’d never eaten pizza together, nor had she told him her preferences, but when she opened the box’s lid and smelled the garlic and basil, she’d hugged him for always identifying exactly what she needed… even if his means of discovery were firmly planted in the grey. He’d eaten more than half of the pie, and now he was content to snack on her crust so she could eat more of the cheese-loaded slices.

“Rich men love boats,” he continued. “Maybe one of them has a yacht or enjoys fishing. Hook would be a plausible nickname for a fisher.”

“I can’t picture millionaires fishing, but it’s worth looking into.” Bel bit the last bite of cheese off the crust and then held it out to Eamon, but instead of taking it from her grip, he leaned forward and captured it in his mouth, his full lips dragging over her fingers as he tugged it free.

“Do you have a boat?” she asked, a faint blush creeping along her cheeks as she sipped her water.

“No… why do you want one? I’ll get one if you like.”

Bel glared at him playfully as she typed new keywords into the search bar. “That easy, huh? I want it, you buy it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes. “But I don’t think I want a boat. You just said rich men love them, so I assumed that meant you had one.”

“The Reale Estate and renovations cost me a fortune,” Eamon answered. “Besides, I find it helpful to live in the shadows. People don’t question what they can’t see.”

“And buying half of Bajka is living in the shadows?”

“This town is your home. You cannot factor in any decisions I make where you are the driving force.”

“Because you act irrationally then?” Bel teased, seizing another slice, but before she could bring it to her mouth, Eamon lunged forward and ate half of it in one bite. “That wasn’t the crust,” she protested, but he simply winked at her, signaling his payback for calling him irrational.

“Look.” He nudged her shoulder and pointed to the DMV records she’d pulled up onto the screen. “Dale Croke owns a yacht. He was the board member Mr. Darling had a falling out with. It’s a long shot, but maybe he used an alias to hire Pann.”

“The Tiger Lily,” Bel read the information on the document. “I certainly don’t get Hook from a boat like that. Granted, Hook could mean something else entirely, but at this point, I don’t know where to look.” She dropped the half-eaten slice back into the box and rubbed her eyes with the heel of her palms, and realizing she had grease on her hands, she groaned in annoyance. “I’m tired. My ankle hurts, my face is a mess now, and I have no idea if my theories are genius or delusional.”

“I know you want to help, but the FBI is taking over the case.” Eamon ran a hand down her back as he spoke. “Maybe you should tell the sheriff what Pann said and call it a night.”

“Now you sound like Griffin.”

“He’s a smart man, and he always has your best interest in mind.”

Bel raised an eyebrow at him, and Eamon brushed her hair away from her neck to reveal her scars.

“Shocking I know.” He traced the marks on her throat. “You’ve inspired me to like a few people in this town, your father among them, even though he doesn’t live here. You’ve ruined me.”

Bel picked up her half-eaten slice and held Eamon’s gaze as she finished the cheesy portion. His fingers never left her neck as she swallowed, as if he liked feeling the way her throat movedbelow his touch, and when only the crust remained, she held it up to him.

“I like ruined Eamon Stone.” She kissed his pale cheek, letting her lips linger against his skin. How often had she imagined what it would be like to surrender to Eamon’s gravity? To give in to her unbearable longing? Only none of her fantasies had prepared her for the electrical current that surged through her veins when she kissed him.

Eamon grunted his annoyance, but Bel didn’t miss how his eyes brightened at her touch, at how she inhaled the masculine fragrance clinging to his skin as her lips trailed over his jaw.

“Come on.” He wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin and then folded the now-empty pizza box closed before extending a broad palm to her. “Let’s clean you up and head back to the Darling’s before they notice we’re missing.”

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