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separate units on the main, second and third floors. Mia rented the midlevel unit and there was another tenant on top.
Parking in front of the building, they had just climbed from the convertible when a dark sedan pulled into the circular driveway behind them. A man in suit pants, a dress shirt and tie emerged. He was tall, even-featured and clean cut, somewhere in his mid-thirties, and Mia immediately summed him up as law enforcement. Her impression of him was confirmed when she saw the gun holstered at his waist.
Walking toward them, he presented his shield. “Ms. Hale?”
She felt a lump form in her throat. “Yes?”
“I’m Special Agent Eric Macfarlane. I’m with the FBI.”
Self-consciously, she smoothed her windblown hair, her instincts speaking to her. “You’re part of the VCU the paper mentioned this morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.” As he neared, he removed his sunglasses. His eyes were an unusual, moss-green color and reflected intelligence. “I was wondering if we could talk.”
The ease she’d felt during the afternoon began to ebb. With a faint nod, she made the necessary introduction. “Agent Macfarlane, this is Will Dvorak, my neighbor and landlord.”
“And friend, ” he emphasized, a measure of protection in his voice. The men shook hands.
“Will Dvorak? The writer?”
“I’m surprised, Agent.” Will was often recognized for his humorous and sometimes poignant essays on his awkward childhood and adolescence. His last book had been on the bestseller lists. “I wouldn’t peg you for the type who’d read me. You’re a little too butch.”
Agent Macfarlane revealed straight, white teeth and a perfect smile. “My reading list is pretty diverse.”
After another few moments of small talk, Will seemed satisfied she was in good hands. “Well, I’ve put it off long enough. I’m going inside to face the last twenty pages of my draft. Mia, sweetheart, if you need anything…”
“Thanks, Will.” She waited as he retreated through the courtyard to his apartment on the ground level before returning her attention to Agent Macfarlane. “I’ve already spoken with one of the local agents, as well as detectives from the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office. I’m afraid there’s not a lot more I can tell you.”
“I’ve been briefed on the situation. And I’m aware of your memory loss.” His eyes fell briefly to her bandaged fingers. “How are you, Ms. Hale?”
“I’m…fine.”
His gaze was discerning. “You’re a very lucky young woman.”
“Compared to the other two women who were abducted, I would agree,” she answered somberly, feeling a trickle of perspiration at her nape. It was a hot afternoon, especially for so early in the season. “We can go up to my apartment and talk in the air-conditioning, if you’d like.”
He followed her upstairs. Mia wore cropped cargo pants and a bare tank top, her outfit exceedingly casual compared to his businesslike attire. Unlocking the door to her apartment and disarming the security system, she dropped her keys and purse on a table in the foyer as he closed the door behind them. “Could I get you something to drink?”
“Water would be nice. Thank you.”
From the kitchen, Mia could see him in the living room. He stood with his hands on his lean hips, looking around at her furnishings and the expanse of green park that was visible from the balcony.
“You have a nice place, Ms. Hale,” he said as she approached and handed him the glass, ice cubes tinkling inside it.
“Please, call me Mia. And it’s a fringe benefit of attending college with the building’s owner. Will and his partner, Justin, rent to me for a steal.”
“You and Mr. Dvorak are both writers—that’s interesting.”
“We met at the University of Florida, but Will ended up going the more creative route.” Indoors, Agent Macfarlane’s eyes were even more striking than she’d first realized, the mossy irises rimmed in black and accentuated by thick, sable lashes. His skin was