“Don’t tell me. Please,” Jamie burst out, meeting his gaze. She didn’t want the gruesome death of a young woman playing through her mind.

He nodded at her request. She could see a shadow in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. From the description of the accident? How many horrific things had he witnessed or covered for the newspaper over the years?

“Now will you go find him with me? Your brother is more likely to talk to you than some stranger. Chris may not believe I’m not looking for a story. This is personal. I’m going because I need to know what happened to my brother.”

An urge to see her own brother hit Jamie like a blow to the chest. It’d been so long…

But to-do lists flooded Jamie’s brain. “Umm…I need to stop the paper and mail and talk to my neighbor about feeding my cat, and I’m supposed to meet with a parent late tomorrow…”

Even to her own ears, her excuses were weak.

“Christ, princess. Yes or no? I’m leaving tomorrow morning. It’s a long drive. Some company would be nice.”

She froze, unable to agree. “I need a few days.” She couldn’t make that type of immediate decision without thinking it through. For a trip, she had to have a plan before she began. After Chris had vanished, her parents no longer let her out of their sight. A simple afternoon to hang out at a friend’s home involved a visit by her parents first. And a sleepover at a girlfriend’s? Forget it. She’d been in college before she slept without her parents under the same roof.

It was a habit that was hard to break.

Michael glanced at his watch. “Fine. I get it.” He stood and locked gazes with her, dark green eyes flashing.

Jamie blinked. His heated gaze didn’t match the tone of his words. It said, I want you to come with me now. And he didn’t want her simply for the convenience of speaking with her brother. He wanted her for…something else.

Heat flooded her belly. What would it be like to be alone with this man and his energy? Silent sparks erupted every time he was near her. He was dangerous.

Jamie avoided danger on principle. She rose to her feet and stepped away. “I can’t. I can’t leave on a moment’s notice.”

“Why not? You don’t have family to arrange for. Just a cat. You’re on summer break. It’s time to move on impulse for once.”

His words stung. She was well aware of the lack of spontaneity in her life, but she didn’t need other people to point it out. It was understandable. It was her parents’ reaction to the kidnapping of her brother. It’d created in her a sense of precaution and the need to think through every move she made. Sure, she’d sacrificed some impulsiveness. But there were worse habits to have.

Michael had highlighted her biggest shortcoming, and he barely knew her. She lifted her chin. “Call me if you find him. And his son. I want to know about my nephew.”

Silence choked her living room.

A sad smile crossed his face. “I will.” He turned and strode to her door. He opened it, looked over his shoulder at her, and vanished.

The sound of the closing door echoed in her empty house. Jamie exhaled and plopped back down on the couch. Would Michael find Chris? Chris had made it clear over the years he wanted to be left alone. He hadn’t responded to the voice message she’d left yesterday. Maybe she should leave him another one? Warn him a reporter was looking for him?

She shook her head. Plenty of people had searched for Chris over the years. He knew how to stay hidden. As tenacious as Michael appeared to be, Chris knew how to avoid reporters. But, boy, her brother had some explaining to do about her nephew. When the publicity died down, she’d pressure him to let her meet the child.

But why did she feel that she’d just missed an interesting opportunity with Michael Brody?

The man was angry, pacing in his office.

“What the hell were you thinking? What was that place? A torture chamber or sex dungeon? I told you to get rid of them. Not keep them as personal slaves for your twisted lusts. Jesus fucking Christ.”

Gerald sat silently. He’d heard different versions of this lecture before. The man just needed to vent. What did he care?

“I can’t believe you left that bunker full of crap. Who knows what they’ll find in there? These days, fucking forensics can trace you from a grain of rice you dropped. You left a treasure trove of kid junk for the police to sift through. Your fingerprints could be everywhere. And I know your fingerprints are in the system.” The man halted his pacing to stare him in the eye.

“I never went in there without latex gloves,” he said. That wasn’t quite true. The gloves came off for certain things.

“Did you leave any gloves? They can get fingerprints off the insides of those damned things.”

“Of course not.”

His boss held his stare, and Gerald understood why people respected him. He could convey every emotion in a way that made the listener feel it deep in their gut. Right now he was telling Gerald that he didn’t believe him.

He was pretty sure there were no gloves left inside. His last visit to the bunker had been over a decade ago, and he’d cleaned out any incriminating garbage. He’d left all the kids’ stuff. It didn’t point any fingers at him. It just showed that children had been there.

He’d eliminated most of the kids pretty fast. Girls first. Then the younger boys. The two oldest boys had appealed to him the most, so he’d kept them the longest.