Seven
Bryn had barely walked into the office when her cell phone and her desk phone rang at the same time. Hers wasn’t the only phone getting a jump on the day. Everyone seemed to be either on the phone or answering one, the empty desks of last night a memory. She dropped her purse in a drawer, bumped it closed with her knee, then dumped the pile of messages and files the assistant had handed off to her on the top of her desk.
“Give me a royal break,” she muttered. She grabbed the desk phone. “Hold, please.” Pushed the hold button and answered the cell. “Bailey.”
“Someone grabbed her. I just got the call from the bastard who has her,” Donovan Kincaid said in her ear.
It took Bryn a minute to figure out who he was talking about, then her brain clicked in. “They make any demands?”
“Not
