Texas Ransom. Amanda Stevens

with the security guard. “Something wrong here?”

      His tone was low and amicable, but his eyes glinted with steel. He had the look of a regimented man, from his precisely knotted tie to his spit-shined loafers, and Graham knew instinctively that the guy was not someone he’d want for an enemy.

      “I’m Special Agent Delacourt with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He flashed his ID and badge. “What seems to be the problem?”

      The guard spoke before Graham had a chance to. “This man says his wife is missing. He wants to look at the security tapes so that he can see if she left the building.”

      The hard eyes turned back to Graham. “When did she leave?”

      “She wasn’t feeling well earlier. She came down for some fresh air. I just want to make sure she’s all right,” Graham said.

      “You have some identification?”

      “Of course.”

      While Graham fished his wallet out of his jacket, the security guard said helpfully, “He’s the architect who designed this building.”

      Delacourt cocked his head. “That right?

      “Yes. My name is Graham Hollister.” He handed his driver’s license to the agent.

      Delacourt glanced at it briefly, then called his partner over. “Becker, you still got that guest list HPD’s circulating?”

      The shorter agent strode toward them. “What’s going on?”

      “See if you can find Graham Hollister on it.”

      While his partner scrutinized a sheet of paper, Delacourt refocused his attention on Graham. “You were at the reception when the shooting occurred?”

      “Yes.”

      “Did you see it happen?”

      “No. There were too many people around. The only thing I saw was the ambassador lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Do you know anything about his condition? Is he going to be okay?”

      “We don’t know yet. Did you notice anything unusual before the shooting occurred?”

      Graham didn’t like the way Delacourt was looking at him. It was almost as if he suspected Graham of something. “A waiter dropped a tray of glasses right before it happened. It caused a commotion.”

      Delacourt and Becker exchanged glances. “Anything else you can think of?”

      “Not right offhand. Like I said, it was crowded and I wasn’t really paying attention.”

      “Graham Hollister’s on the list all right,” Becker confirmed.

      “He says he’s the architect that designed the building,” Delacourt said.

      Becker’s brows rose. “Oh, yeah? That’s convenient.”

      “Isn’t it?” Delacourt turned back to Graham. “We’re going to need you to come with us.”

      Graham frowned. “Why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

      Delacourt and Becker exchanged another glance. “No one is suggesting that you did.”

      “Then why do you need me?”

      “We’re going to search this building from the ground up. You can save us a lot of time by going over the blueprints with some of our agents.”

      “But—”

      Delacourt gave him the hard look again. “Maybe you didn’t understand me. No one is leaving here until we’ve searched the entire building. The sooner we get started, the sooner you can get out of here and go find your wife.”

      The last thing Graham wanted was to be tied up for hours, but he didn’t have a choice. He nodded wearily and followed the agents across the lobby.

      Chapter Three

      Graham had been sequestered for nearly three hours with a team of FBI agents, State Department officials and HPD officers when Delacourt came in suddenly and announced that he was free to go.

      “Does this mean you’ve found the shooter?” Graham asked as the special agent escorted him to the front entrance.

      “Let’s just say, we no longer think the suspect is in the building.”

      “Why?”

      “We have our reasons.”

      Graham wondered what those reasons were, but he decided that for now it was best to say as little as possible. Until he could find out what was going on with Kendall, the last thing he needed was Delacourt’s continued interest.

      “What about the ambassador? How’s he doing?”

      “Holding his own. That’s about all I can say.” Delacourt nodded to another agent in the lobby. “You haven’t remembered anything else that might help us out?”

      Graham shrugged. “Like I said, there was a lot of confusion. I didn’t even know Garza had been wounded. I didn’t hear a gunshot, although I suppose it could have been masked by the falling tray. I thought at first he’d collapsed from a heart attack. And then I saw the blood on the floor beneath him. That’s all I remember.”

      “What about the waiter who dropped the tray? You said he had dark hair, an average build. Any distinguishing marks? Scars, moles anything at all that you can recall?”

      Graham shook his head. “Nothing more than what I’ve already told you. I didn’t really get a good look at him. After he dropped the tray, everyone around him scrambled to get out of the way. And then a second or two later, I saw the ambassador lying on the floor.”

      The agent fished in his pocket and brought out a card. “Details sometime come back once the adrenaline settles. If you think of anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem, give me a call at this number.”

      Graham pocketed the card and nodded. “I will.”

      He started to walk away, but Delacourt said suddenly, “Hey, what about your wife? Have you heard from her?”

      “No, not since earlier. I guess I’m meeting her at home.”

      As Graham walked away, he resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. He had a strange feeling that Delacourt was standing there watching him. And that he would be hearing from the agent again very soon.

      AS GRAHAM climbed behind the wheel of his BMW a little while later, he started thinking again about Kendall’s strange exit from the reception. And he thought about the way she’d left all those years ago, with only a note to explain her sudden departure. She’d disappeared for months with barely any communication. Graham had had to learn from his best friend that she’d moved to Mexico.

      Back then, Kendall had been a woman he barely knew. A gorgeous, restless creature who had grown tired of her husband’s fifteen-hour workdays. And it wasn’t as though Graham hadn’t seen it coming. He had. He just hadn’t done anything about it. And now this.

      What if she decided to leave him again?

      He cut himself off. He wouldn’t go there. Not until he talked to her.

      The other guests had long since left the building, and the parking garage was nearly deserted. As Graham backed out of his slot, he took out his cell phone and started placing calls.

      He checked the hotel first. He and Kendall had booked a suite at the Warwick for the night so they wouldn’t have to drive all the way back to Austin after the reception. She’d asked to meet at home, but it made more sense that she meant their hotel room.

      But she didn’t pick up in their suite nor had she left a message. Graham tried his brother’s house next and when Ellie answered, he quickly explained why he was calling.

      “She left without saying anything? That’s odd,” Ellie murmured.