Page 51 of In Hiding

“Out.” He waited, as if he expected obedience. Erik half envisaged a standoff, but the guard departed, pulling the door closed and locking them inside. At the sound of the tumblers engaging, his guest breathed out a long sigh and shook his head. “I’m getting too old for this shit. Please, Mr. Christensen, join us.”

Erik stood still. “Who are you?”

The younger man crossed the bare room to join them and held out a hand. “I’m Magnus.”

He almost forgot what it was like to greet another human being respectfully. Cautiously, he accepted the handshake, the grip firm but not vice-like. When he let go, Magnus stepped back, clearly under the command of the older man.

“Damien McCafferty,” he said, finally, offering his hand. Gray hair topped his head and a matching gray beard covered half his face while shrewd pale blue-gray eyes assessed Erik. “Though you don’t know either of us.”

“Correct. I don’t know either of you. Am I in trouble?”

Damien chuckled and swept a hand toward the table and chairs. “Please. I’d rather have this conversation away from the door.”

As he followed them over, Erik glanced at one of the mounted cameras out of the corner of his eye. Like his guests, he sat on a metal chair. It too was bolted to the ground to prevent it being used as a weapon. The steel was cold under Erik’s ass.

Not knowing either of these men or why they were here, he chose to let them have the lead. That way he couldn’t hang himself out to dry or stick his size thirteen boot in his mouth.

“Are they treating you well?”

Erik huffed. “As good as can be expected, I suppose.”

“Muscat?”

“He’s new, trying to make a name for himself.”

Damien smiled. “Thought so. He’s a dick.”

Beside Damien, Magnus’s eyes widened before he chuckled. “You’re too polite. He’s a cu—”

“Most surely,” Damien cut him off. “I’m not disagreeing with you, but enough about the hired help. Let’s talk about you, Erik. How long until you can apply for parole?”

Clearly, they knew more about him than he about them. “Six months.”

The two men shared a look. Neither seemed impressed. “How the hell did you get a longer sentence than Mitchell?”

Confused, Erik stood. “Look, I don’t know why you’re here or what you want, but I have no desire to talk about him or risk having my sentence extended.”

The old guy shook his head. “We’re on your side. We’re here about Sarah.”

Sarah? Erik’s forehead pulled tight in a frown as he rolled the name around in his mind. He expected them to elaborate but neither man did, leaving him to do the math. Who the hell was Sarah? He’d never had a girlfriend or even a friend by the name and yet both looked at him expectantly, as if he knew who they spoke of.

The only person he knew had Sarah as a middle name...oh.

Every doubt vanished and he sat back down, much to Damien’s pleasure. With a small nod, the man continued.

“She’s well, though she has no idea we’re here. Actually,” he shared another look with his companion, “she doesn’t know us, either. We have a mutual acquaintance here who brings us all together.”

The cryptic clues made Erik’s head spin.

Magnus piped up. “He and I trained in the Army together. We served in East Timor.”

Jake.

“He found her?”

Both men responded with only a nod. The news pleased him more than he could’ve imagined. When he sent Jake after Kat, the chances of him failing were pretty damn good.

“How?”

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