Johnny was sitting on a chair with his hands tied behind his back. His face was all cut up and bruised, and blood was dripping from the side of his mouth. His right knee was covered in blood all the way down his leg to a revolting dark pool on the floor.

  Christina bit her lower lip to prevent from screaming. Anxiously, her gaze flew from Johnny to the short, bulky man standing next to him, and then, to the tall, bald-headed one, standing by the window.

  “Where the hell have you been?” the short one asked Christina’s assailant.

  “That bitch gave me a hard time!” he growled, twisting Christina’s arm even harder, bringing tears to her eyes.

  While the tall man had made no move since Christina came in, the other one came toward her and turning to Johnny he asked in a harsh voice: “What do we have here?”

  “Leave her alone! She has nothing to do with this,” Johnny yelled at him.

  Christina felt her heart sinking, hearing his squeaky voice.

  “Well, maybe she has. Maybe she hasn’t. We have to make sure, though, don’t we?” the man replied coldly.

  “I told you; she has nothing to do with all this. Let her go!” Johnny pleaded.

  The guy ignored him and coming closer to Christina, he grabbed her chin with one hand and forced her to face him. “Who are you?” he commanded.

  Christina shook, unable to utter a word. A scream escaped her lips when the man still holding her wrist twisted her arm tighter behind her back.

  “Who are you?” the short one repeated the question coldly.

  “Christina. Connors,” Christina rushed, and her voice sounded no louder than a whisper.

  “And what were you doing out there in the corridor?” the man demanded.

  “We were supposed to have dinner,” she replied and glanced at Johnny frightened.

  “She’s just a friend,” Johnny interrupted.

  “Well, maybe we should ask your friend about the tape,” the man said.

  “I told you!” Johnny growled. “She knows nothing!”

  “We’ll see about that!” he said and approached the tall one still standing by the window.

  The two of them talked for a few minutes, every now and then glancing toward Christina.

  A moment later, the short one came back toward her. “She’s coming with us,” he said firmly.

  “No!” Johnny cried out. “Leave her alone!”

  The man paid no attention to him. He waved to the man who was still holding Christina, and she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. Then, she woke up in the alley…

  Oh, my God! What about Johnny? Christina wondered, feeling the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Frantically, she sat up and despite the pain in her chest, she yelled to the policeman outside.

  The policeman rushed into the room. “What’s wrong?”

  “Please…” Christina cried out as the policeman rushed toward her, calling out for the nurse at the same time.

  “Please...help him!” Christina exclaimed in agony and pushed away the nurse who had rushed into the room and was trying to make her lie back down.

  “I’m going to give her something to relax,” the nurse said, and the policeman nodded in agreement.

  “No!” Christina protested. “I don’t want to go to sleep.”

  “Please, Miss Connors,” the nurse insisted, checking her pulse and her blood pressure.

  “Johnny is in danger! You must help him.”

  “Who is Johnny?” the policeman inquired.

  “Miss Connors, you blood pressure is too high. If you don’t calm down, I’ll have to give you something to do it for you. Please, take a few deep breaths, and the nice police officer will listen to you.”

  I need to calm down. I have to explain to them about Johnny. “I want to speak to the detective,” Christina said, taking deep breaths.

  “He’ll be here first thing in the morning,” the policeman assured her. “But if it’s something urgent you can tell me, and I’ll contact him immediately.”

  “Yes! Yes, it’s urgent. Tomorrow morning might be too late.”

  Without a word, the policeman turned on his heel and walked outside the room. Christina saw him talking on his radio and breathed out in relief. The detective will listen to me, she thought. He will know what to do.

  ***

  Wild thoughts whirled around in her mind as she waited for the detective. Who were those people? How did Johnny get involved with them? He wasn’t the type of guy to have dealings with people like that. But then again, she realized, what do I actually know about Johnny?

  They had been casual friends for a while, but she didn’t know much about his work or his life. She only knew he was from Denver and had no close relatives.

  Thinking back, it struck her kind of odd having run into him on several occasions in Birmingham and meeting him again a few months later in Atlanta after she had moved here. Johnny didn’t remember her from Birmingham at all, and Christina hadn’t thought much about it back then. However, what if things weren’t the way they seemed? What if he did remember her? Then why would he lie about it, and what did he know about her?

  A chill caressed her spine. Oh, my God! Will the nightmare ever end? Will I ever be able to have a normal life and stop being afraid?

  Up to now, she’d been successful in hiding her past, and no one had ever suspected anything. Why would they, anyway? Everything had happened so long ago, and almost everyone who knew Christina’s real identity, was dead…

  But what about Johnny? she wondered once more. What if he somehow knew who she was? What if he had followed her here from Birmingham? Don’t be ridiculous, she reprimanded herself. Stop being paranoid and seeing enemies everywhere! But then again, her mother’s tragic death had made her realize that her father’s people were ruthless, and they would stop at nothing to find her and either force her back or kill her. Of course, her father—Mafia lord Paolo Rosetti—was dead. She had read about it in the papers, some years back. But his family would never give up. That was the kind of people they were. No one ever walked out on them and survived.

  Unconsciously, she raised her hand to touch the locket she usually wore around her neck. Alarmed, she realized it was gone. What on earth? Her heartbeat accelerated. The locket was a present from her mother—the only thing she had to be reminded of that wonderful person who sacrificed everything to save her.

  “Where is my locket?” she asked the nurse who had just stepped into the room.

  “Don’t worry, Miss. Your locket is with your personal effects. We have to remove all jewelry as a precaution.”

  “Oh, I see.” Christina breathed out relieved.

  It was stupid of her to keep the locket on since it had the Rosetti’s crest carved on the front. However, her mother had the words I love you engraved on the back, and Christina wore it so that the crest was in the back and the loving words in the front.

  Thinking of her mother, Christina drew a deep breath and placed her fist against her mouth, fighting back the tears. I need to pull myself together.

  “Could you please bring me my locket?”

  “Don’t worry, Miss Connors. Your locket is safely stored away.”

  “Please…” Christina pleaded, feeling a lump in her throat.

  The nurse stared at her for a moment. “I’ll be right back,” she said finally and left the room.

  Christina tried to relax, but her thoughts flew to Johnny again. I have to tell the detective about him, she thought determined. No matter who he is, he’s probably in serious trouble right now…

  ***

  Dan was sitting behind his desk at the Gwinnett County Police Department going through the file of this strange case. What the hell is going on? He slammed his fist on his desk, frustrated. This investigation had him puzzled.

  He thought of Christina Connors and William Beavers—the attorney found dead next to her in the alley. According to his sources, she was a talented jewelry designer, and he was a big-shot attorney from M
arietta, Georgia. What could two such different people have in common, especially considering Christina insisted she didn’t know Beavers? Of course, she could be lying. However, Dan had a feeling she was telling the truth. There was something about this girl…

  Be careful, he cautioned himself for one more time. Don't get personally involved. Frustrated, he sprang to his feet and paced back and forth to clear his mind.

  A few minutes later, he went back to his desk and stared at his notes. The information he had so far was that twenty-seven-year-old Christina was from Birmingham, Alabama and had moved to Atlanta two years ago when she got her job with Century Jewelry Company.

  Dan had talked to her boss, Emily Lawrence, and several of Christina’s coworkers that morning. Lawrence indicated that she and Christina were best friends, but when Dan asked her about Christina’s habits or the way she spent her spare time, Lawrence hesitated. Dan could tell she was lying and couldn’t help but wonder why.

  Christina’s coworkers had nice things to say about the girl lying in the hospital bed. According to them, she was a quiet person, always sweet and polite to everybody, and devoted to her job. Then again, none of them seemed to know anything more about Christina or her personal life, either.

  Afterwards, he and Miles went to Christina’s apartment and spoke to her landlady. Same thing—her landlady spoke highly of Christina but didn’t know much about her life or if she had any friends or relatives.

  They also visited the attorney’s house in a prestigious subdivision in Lilburn and talked to his wife. She was in a state of shock, under the care of her doctor. The detectives didn’t stay long as she was in no condition to answer any questions. Besides, she didn’t seem to know much about her husband’s business dealings. Dan made a note to come back later, and they drove to Marietta, where Beavers kept his office. They spoke to his secretary and the attendant of the building’s parking lot.

  Dan closed the file on his desk and leaned back in his chair, raising his arms and locking his fingers behind his neck. He stared at the ceiling, going over the evidence in his mind. The attorney was found shot through the head. His wallet was still in his pocket, with all his credit cards and one hundred and thirty-five dollars in it. So the police had ruled out robbery right away.

  On the other hand, the girl’s purse was found a few feet away, empty and dumped in a trashcan. So far, he hadn’t been able to connect the girl with the attorney, and he was anxious to question her once the doctors permitted it. Which should be soon since all that was wrong with the girl was two broken ribs, some minor scratches and bruises, and a big bump on the back of her head. She didn’t seem to have been hurt in any other way, and from what the doctors said she hadn’t been raped.

  The ringing of the phone drew him from his thoughts. “Mallory…” he answered.

  He listened for a couple minutes and then hung up. He reached over, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the hospital. It’s about time I get some answers. It must be something important since the girl insisted on seeing me in the middle of the night.

  He was still going over the evidence in his mind when he arrived at Grady Hospital. The police hadn’t been able to find the murder weapon. The only other thing found at the scene of the crime was the attorney’s empty briefcase. Dan was wondering how the attorney ended up in the alley on the west side of Atlanta. According to his secretary, he left his office around eight o’clock. However, his car was still in the parking garage next to his office, located in a very prestigious building on North Marietta Parkway. His wife called the police around four o’clock in the morning to report her husband missing. The murder was reported to the police around six-thirty in the morning by an anonymous caller, and the body was found a few minutes later. The police were surprised to find Christina lying unconscious a few feet away.

  According to her coworkers, she left the office at four-thirty. Emily Lawrence told the police that Christina was supposed to meet a friend at five o’clock.

  Dan parked the car and rushed inside toward the elevators. Even though Grady Hospital was always busy at any time of day or night, tonight it seemed surprising quiet.

  As he stepped off the elevator on Christina’s floor, he instinctively searched for the officer stationed outside the girl’s room. No one was there. Dan rushed into her room to find the girl’s bed empty…

  Frantically, he checked the bathroom and stepped outside her room to scan the hallway both ways. She was nowhere to be found. Rushing to the nurses’ station down the hall, he found the policeman standing there, sipping his coffee, and talking to the head nurse.

  As soon as the officer saw Dan, he straightened his back. “I just came to grab a cup of coffee, sir,” he said in an apologetic tone of voice.

  “Where is the girl?” Dan yelled at him.

  Both the policeman and the nurse stared at him startled.

  “Where is the girl?” Dan repeated the question, losing his patience.

  “In her bed…” the policeman answered in a squeaky voice and glanced uneasily down the hall toward Christina’s room.

  “Call for backup!” Dan yelled over his shoulder and took off toward Christina’s room with the nurse running right behind him. He rushed into the room and searched it one more time. The bed was messed up, but everything else seemed to be in place...except Christina. She had vanished.

  The hospital staff was notified, and nurses rushed all over the place. They searched the whole floor. Within minutes, the hospital crawled with cops checking every inch.

  Chapter Two

  CHRISTINA WOKE UP with a roaring headache. She was lying on a four-poster bed in the middle of a room. Anxiously, she scanned the unfamiliar bedroom, noting the heavy cherry wood furniture. What now? Where am I? How did I end up here?

  French doors led to a balcony. Am I a prisoner? Then again, there weren’t any bars. Trying to move, she realized she wasn’t tied up.

  Breathing out relieved, she supported herself on her elbows and attempted to sit up. The room seemed to be spinning around, and a moan escaped her lips at the sudden pain in her chest. She collapsed back down, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Oh, hell, the broken ribs! The painkillers must be wearing out. Determined, she gave it another try.

  This time, she managed to sit up and place her feet on the floor. Closing her eyes, she waited for the dizzy spell to pass and the pain to subside.

  Suddenly, she remembered hearing someone enter her hospital room and turning right at the moment that a man put a piece of cloth with a strong, nasty smell over her face. After that, she didn’t remember anything else.

  A jolt of fear shot through her, turning her blood to ice. Nervously, she scanned her surroundings. The room contained three doors. One of them was open, revealing a double vanity with a mirror in what must be the bathroom. That left two. One of them must be the way out. But is it locked?

  Despite the weakness plaguing her, she managed to stand up and make her way to the first door. The thick burgundy carpet smothered any noise. Her hand gripped the doorknob and turned it. The door opened quietly. Christina stepped into a hallway and carefully peered around. Nobody was in sight.

  The hallway was a large corridor with three doors, including hers, on each side. At one end, a huge bay window topped a window seat covered with green and peach pillows. The other side ended at the top of a staircase. Only the mahogany railings of the staircase and a chandelier hanging from the ceiling were visible to Christina.

  For a moment, she considered descending the stairs and running for the front door. Then again, she still wore the hospital gown. How far could she get in this? Would anyone even help her? I should search the room for something to wear.

  Walking back inside, she closed the door quietly. The bathroom was large and comfortable like the bedroom, with a sunken marble bathtub in the middle and a shower in the corner. Big windows overlooking well-maintained grounds and a manicured lawn covered the entire outside wall. This is a beautiful place. She’d only seen houses l
ike this one in magazines.

  Where am I? The thought brought her back to reality. Throwing some water on her face, she rushed back to the bedroom, searching for the closet. Opening the third door of the room, she stepped inside a walk-in closet with a huge window on one side. In fact, it looked more like another bedroom, that’s how big it was.

  Christina stared at the rows of clothes. Women’s clothes, thank God! Below the outfits hanging were rows of shoes. At least forty to fifty pairs, she realized in amazement.

  Searching through her options, she found a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt, both a couple sizes too big. Luckily, she had a selection of belts. One section held lingerie sets with the tags still on. She grabbed the smallest size she could find, dropping everything into a pile as she pulled the hospital gown over her head.

  Most of the shoes seemed too big. Finally, a pair of boots fitted her fine after wearing two pairs of socks.

  All right so far. Now I have to find my way out of here before anyone comes to check up on me.

  Back in the bedroom, she looked at the clock on the dresser. It was six-thirty in the morning. It’s still early. That’s why nobody has come for me yet.

  Opening the French doors, she stepped out on the balcony. She leaned over the railings but soon realized it was too high to jump. Even though she was only on the first floor, the house was built on a hill, and the ground underneath was too far.

  A quick glance around revealed one of the dogwood trees landscaping the yard had branches reaching her balcony. Without a second though, she climbed over the railing and onto the thickest branch she could reach, biting her lower lip to prevent screaming from the pain in her chest. Her heartbeat stuttered at the cracking noise. Determined, she steadied herself using another branch until her fingers touched the trunk. Despite the dizzy, sick feeling in her stomach, Christina held on tightly as she started climbing down.