"Right." Nate found himself pulling her hand into his. She rarely shrank away from the physical contact, and if he wasn't mistaken, it helped her relax. He could hardly help touching her. Maybe when this was all over... He couldn't even let himself think it. If they got Ana back, and if he didn't screw it up in his attempts to help, maybe Marisa might see him as more than just the guy who'd led the kidnappers straight to her. But there was no way to know right now, and even if he could trust his own feelings, hers were all out of whack. No, Nate needed to support Marisa with his feet firmly planted in the friend-zone.

He squeezed her hand. "You ready to call Julio?"

Marisa turned her attention away from Brady and onto him, and even with her eyes red and puffy, no makeup, and grief etched on her face, he barely kept himself from wrapping her in his arms.

"What should I ask him to do exactly?"

They'd been over this a few times already, but Marisa seemed to be having trouble concentrating. No sleep, drenched in fear and worry, it was no surprise. "Knock on the door, see if Rick's there. If he's not, and if Julio doesn't object, maybe he could step inside, see if he sees anything fishy, anything that might tell us where he is now." Nate looked at Brady. "Can you think of anything else?"

"I'm not about to endorse breaking and entering."

Sam shot Brady a look. "The man's a kidnapper and a murderer."

"I know that. But if this Julio gets caught, he'll be guilty of a felony. I'm just saying—"

"If he's willing," Sam said, "we should let him do it."

"Aren't you supposed to be the Christian here? All moral and..."

Sam glared at Brady, and he shut up.

Rae addressed Marisa. "Do what you think is best, but I'm with Nate and Sam. If he's willing to step inside and have a look around, that'd be great. Just encourage him to wear gloves and not to leave a trace."

Marisa nodded, pulled her hand away from Nate's, and slid her chair back. "Can I borrow you phone? I don't want to use the one Rick gave me. Just in case."

"Of course." Nate handed it to her, and she walked away. She'd chosen a different pair of jeans and a lightweight sweater that hugged her curves. She silently paced on the hardwood floor in the living room as she waited. A moment later, he heard her melodic voice, though aside from Julio's name and hers, he didn't understand a single word. If he were going to stay with this woman, he might have to take Spanish lessons.

Stay with her? Sheesh, Nate. Get a grip.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

Nate realized he'd been staring and turned back to the table. "I'm fine. Just worried about her. And Ana."