Chapter 1 - The Man Waiting at Gate C17
The first thing I noticed was that Noah Whitman didn't look frightened.
He looked angry.
Not the kind of anger that made a person raise his voice or throw something.
It was quieter than that.
The kind that made his jaw tighten and his eyes turn cold while he calculated what to do next.
Outside our airplane window, the lights of Chicago O'Hare stretched across the wet pavement.
Passengers were already reaching for their bags.
A baby cried somewhere behind us.
Someone laughed at a joke I couldn't hear.
Everything seemed perfectly normal.
Except that a stranger was waiting inside the airport with a photograph of my daughter.
"Emily."
Noah's voice pulled me back.
"Listen carefully."
I tightened my arms around Lily.
"Is it Ryan?"
"I don't know."
"Then how does someone have our picture?"
"That's what we're going to find out."
I looked toward the aisle.
People were standing.
Overhead compartments were opening.
I wanted to be one of those ordinary passengers whose biggest problem was whether their luggage had survived the flight.
Instead, I was wondering whether the man I'd spent three years married to had followed me across state lines.
Noah pulled out his phone.
"Daniel, I'm still onboard."
A man's voice answered immediately.
"Understood, sir."
"Keep the individual under observation."
"Already doing that."
"Do not approach him yet."
There was a pause.
"Sir, he just made another call."
Noah glanced at me.
"What did he say?"
"We couldn't hear everything, but he mentioned a woman traveling with an infant."
My mouth went dry.
"Did he identify himself?"
"No identification visible."
"Stay with him."
Noah ended the call.
I stared at him.
"Who is Daniel?"
"My head of security."
"You have people watching the airport?"
"Whenever I travel."
I tried to laugh.
Nothing came out.
"That must be exhausting."
"Sometimes."
He looked at Lily, who was still sleeping against my chest.
"Tonight, I'm grateful for it."
The flight attendant approached.
"Mr. Whitman, ground personnel asked me to let you know that arrangements are in place."
"Thank you."
He stood, then turned back toward me.
"Would you trust me for another twenty minutes?"
The question should have sounded ridiculous.
I'd met this man only a few hours earlier.
I knew his name, his approximate age, and that he was wealthy enough to have security personnel waiting for him at airports.
I also knew he'd spent most of a flight entertaining my exhausted daughter without asking me for anything.
And when someone complained about Lily crying, he'd defended her before I could defend myself.
"Twenty minutes," I said.
He nodded.
"That's all I'm asking."
Instead of joining the crowd moving toward the jet bridge, Noah spoke quietly with the flight attendant.
A few minutes later, an airport representative arrived.
She wore a dark blazer and carried an identification badge.
"Ms. Collins?"
"Yes."
"My name is Patricia.
We're going to escort you through a separate passenger route."
I looked at Noah.
"Is that allowed?"
"She's airport staff," he said.
Patricia smiled reassuringly.
"We'll remain within authorized areas, ma'am."
We followed her after the other passengers began leaving.
Noah walked beside me.
He didn't touch me.
He didn't try to take Lily.
He simply positioned himself between us and the open doorway whenever someone approached.
At the end of the jet bridge, two men waited.
One was tall, broad-shouldered, with closely cropped hair.
The other wore glasses and looked like someone who belonged in an accounting office.
"Mr. Whitman," the taller man said.
"Daniel."
Daniel's attention shifted toward me.
"Ms. Collins, I'm Daniel Mercer.
We believe someone may be trying to locate you."
"Believe?"
"We haven't confirmed his purpose."
"Can I see him?"
Daniel hesitated.
Then he showed me an image from his phone.
The photograph was slightly blurry.
A man in a gray jacket stood near an arrivals corridor.
He was looking down at his phone.
I recognized him immediately.
My knees almost gave out.
"Oh, God."
Noah stepped closer.
"You know him?"
"His name is Curtis Hale."
Daniel's expression changed.
"Who is he?"
"He works for my husband."
"What kind of work?"
I swallowed.
"Ryan always called him a consultant."
"Consultant for what?"
I thought of the evenings when Curtis had appeared unexpectedly at our apartment.
The closed-door conversations.
The unfamiliar cars.
The way Ryan's expression changed whenever Curtis called.
"I don't know."
Noah exchanged a look with Daniel.
"Emily," he said, "has this man ever threatened you?"
I shook my head.
"Not directly."
"Has he ever threatened anyone?"
I remembered something.
Three weeks earlier, the night Ryan changed the locks, Curtis had been standing beside the building's front entrance.
I'd been holding Lily and begging Ryan to let me inside for her medication.
Curtis had watched silently.
Then he'd said something I'd tried very hard to forget.
She's making this more complicated than it needs to be.
I repeated those words.
Daniel's face hardened.
"Mr. Whitman, I recommend we move."
We walked through a quiet corridor toward a secured exit.
I kept looking behind us.
Every footstep made my heart jump.
By the time we reached a service elevator, I was trembling.
Noah noticed.
"You're doing fine."
"I'm really not."
"You're keeping Lily safe.
That's what matters right now."
The elevator descended.
When the doors opened, a dark SUV was waiting in an authorized loading area.
A uniformed airport employee stood beside it.
Daniel spoke briefly with the driver.
Then his phone rang.
He listened for several seconds.
His expression changed.
"What?"
Noah looked at him.
Daniel moved closer.
"The man has left the arrivals corridor."
"Where is he?"
"We lost visual contact for approximately forty seconds."
"Find him."
"There's something else."
Daniel held up his phone.
"A message just came through our corporate security line."
"What message?"
Daniel glanced at me.
Then he read it aloud.
"If Noah Whitman wants to protect Emily Collins, tell him to ask her husband what happened at Westlake Financial."
I stared at him.
Westlake Financial.
That name meant something.
I had seen it before.
Not on the news.
Not in an advertisement.
I had seen it printed across the top of a document Ryan had ordered me never to touch.
And suddenly, I remembered the night he'd started acting like a stranger.
It was the same night I'd accidentally opened that document.
Noah watched my face.
"Emily?"
I lifted my eyes.
"I think I know why Ryan wants me back."
"What is it?"
My voice barely worked.
"Because before I left Texas, I saw something I wasn't supposed to see."
Then Daniel's phone rang again.
He answered, listened, and turned pale.
"Sir."
Noah waited.
Daniel looked directly at me.
"Curtis Hale wasn't waiting to meet Ms. Collins."
My stomach dropped.
"What?"
"He was waiting to confirm she got off that plane."
A terrible silence followed.
May you like
Daniel continued.
"Because someone had already arranged for another person to collect her daughter."
