"I didn't want to rent a car. We could be tracked that way. Bad enough they can track us to Boston through our flights. From here, we shouldn't be easy to find."

She looked around. "You think we're in danger?"

"The guys who kidnapped Ana have no reason to hurt us. They want their money. Theoretically, nobody else would know you were coming today. But it won't be long before they do. Information like that tends to spread."

A shiny black truck pulled to the curb in front of them. A man as built and nearly as handsome as Nate circled the front of it and approached them. He had dark brown hair and warm eyes.

Nate greeted him with a hug and a slap on the back. "I can't thank you enough, man."

The man stepped back. "I still owe you."

"I did nothing," Nate said. "Nothing good, anyway." He turned to her. "Marisa, this is Brady Thomas."

She stepped forward and shook his hand. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem." He slung Nate's suitcase in the bed of the truck. Nate followed with the rest. He said to Marisa, "You want yours back here or with you?"

"Back there is fine."

He set the duffel in the bed and opened the back door of the pickup. "Are you okay to sit back here? If you'd prefer—"

"It's fine." She climbed in the backseat and inhaled the new-car smell she hadn't experienced in forever.

"Nice truck," Nate said.

Brady pulled into traffic. "I needed something big enough for a car seat."

"How is Johnny?"

Marisa could see the man's smile in the rearview mirror. "He's perfect. Crawling all over the house now."

"Wow. Can't wait to see him. And Rae?"

"Feisty, as always."

Marisa said, "You two were school friends?"

They both laughed. "Actually," Brady said, "Nate is much older than I am."

Nate turned to face her. "Like three years. Brady tried to fill my shoes on the football team."

"Tried to? We went to the state championship."

"And lost, if I remember."

"Closer than you got."

Both men laughed, and Marisa sat forward, intrigued. "So you weren't high school friends?"

"Nope," Nate said. "I barely knew him, and then, for a while, I kind of hated him."

"Fair enough," Brady said. "I kind of hated you for a while there, too." He met Marisa's eyes again. "See, there's this woman."

"Ah," she said.

"Your wife now." Nate turned to her. "They were married the Saturday between Christmas and New Year's."

"You had a thing for her?" Marisa asked, ignoring a pang of jealousy. As if she had time for that.

"We were together a few years when she lived in New York, a million years ago. Before I met you."

"Ah. And you were angry at Brady for stealing her away?" Marisa asked.