Luke turned his head slowly from side to side, his neck stiff. The pillow was soft, the mattress firm. It smelled different to normal—something floral. He cracked an eyelid open. Since when did he have a pale pink duvet? Nope, definitely not his bed. Where was he?

Sunlight spilled between the half-closed curtains, and he squinted at the brightness. Was it morning or afternoon? Luke didn't know the day of the week, let alone how he got there or even what country he'd landed up in. His mind blurred around the edges.

Through the window, buildings clad in cream stonework with grey slate roofs stood out against the blue sky. The occasional purr of a car rolling past told him he was within reach of civilisation, at least.

He tried to get up, but his head had other ideas. A wrecking ball pounded inside, doing its worst. Giddiness overcame him, the room spinning as he sank back onto the mattress, but when he closed his eyes, the events of yesterday slowly, slowly trickled into his brain. That awful walk through the woods with the bagful of money. The brief conversation with the sick bastard who took Tia. Then his memory went fuzzy again.

And no wonder. He thumped his head against the pillow in frustration then bit his tongue to save from crying out. What the...? Probing gently, he winced as he found a golf ball-sized knot on the back of his head, and when he ran a hand over his forehead, he discovered a line of stitches on his temple. What happened? Who stitched him up? This place sure didn't look like a hospital.

A vague picture of Ash floated into his head, her face in shadow, lit only by the moon flickering through leafless trees. Had she been there? In the woods? Why would she when he'd sent her away?

Thinking of Ash made his chest tighten. Partly with sadness, but mostly with anger.

He'd told her he loved her, for pity's sake—but she clearly hadn't felt the same way. What had gone so wrong? She was the first woman he'd lived with, the first woman he'd wanted in his bed night after night, and although she'd seemed reluctant to commit, he'd hoped she'd stay indefinitely. Hadn't he offered her everything? His home, his heart, even his damn credit card. What was with her attitude towards money, anyway? Even though she had none, she'd never wanted his. She'd even suggested getting a job, for crying out loud. As if he'd let her work for minimum wage when he earned a hundred times that.

Ash had genuinely cared about Tia, of that he was sure. Past girlfriends had treated his sister as an irritation to be avoided at all costs, but Ash connected with her. Tia had become a different person, a much nicer one, since they met.

But Ash had betrayed him.

Who was she, really? She admitted she'd lied, but what was the truth? Maybe, with hindsight, he'd been a little hasty in kicking her out, because now questions were eating away at him.

What did she want?

Why had she come to Lower Foxford?

Could she be working with the kidnapper? Was that why she'd been in the woods?

So many unknowns. Half-formed thoughts swam around Luke's head, but each time he tried to grab one, it disappeared into the mire.

Think. Think. Think.

Okay, got one. A question. Why was he in this room? Had he been kidnapped too?

Muscles screaming in protest, he forced himself out of bed. Hmm. Who had undressed him? He'd certainly been wearing more than boxer shorts when he left home. A pile of clothes on a chair by the window caught his attention, and he shuffled over. Mud and reddish-brown stains covered his jeans and shirt. Blood? He sniffed, and a metallic tang wafted into his nostrils. His blood? The kidnapper's? Tia's? Hell, please don't let it be Tia's.

Outside the window, a small flock of birds landed in the park opposite. No, not a park. Tall iron railings surrounded the greenery, and a pair of sturdy gates kept the riffraff out. One of those private squares that made the expensive parts of London so desirable? A car hooted its horn, and a black cab pulled up below.

Yes, this was definitely London.

Luke cringed at the thought of putting on his filthy clothes, but what other option was there? He opened the nearest door and found himself in a large bathroom. A stranger stared back from the mirror above the basin—sunken eyes, a couple of days' worth of stubble, smudges of dirt on his cheeks. He turned to get a better look at the line of stitches. Fuck, that was a nasty-looking cut, and it stung like hell.

How had he got it? Why couldn't he remember?

A washcloth sat on the marble vanity, and he used it to clean up his face. Next to the basin, a row of pale pink toiletry bottles reminded him of an upmarket hotel. Who did they belong to? Was this a hotel? If he had indeed been kidnapped, there were certainly worse places to be held.

The cold water helped him to think straight, and he returned to the luxuriously appointed bedroom. Despite the opulent curtains and fifty throw-pillows, there were no personal touches, and whoever chose the paintings was either schizophrenic or seriously indecisive. A rose in a vase. A pair of dice. A green tiger drinking from a rippling pool. Luke squinted at the signatures, but he didn't recognise any of the artists.

A selection of clothes hung in the wardrobe, both male and female, some cheap, some expensive. Probably not a hotel, then. The nightstand held a torch, tissues, and an economy-sized box of condoms. Had the previous occupant hunted pussy for a hobby?

Finding the other door unlocked, he overcame his nerves and walked out into a long hallway. More doors, more paintings. He peered at the closest, a vibrant abstract in acrylics, a mixture of purples and pinks. Looked original. What was this place?

He counted the doors—five in total, all closed. Both ends of the hallway disappeared around corners, and apart from the faint sounds of the street outside, silence reigned.

Should he go left or right? Even that decision seemed too difficult today. Just pick one. Left, he'd go left. Around the corner, sweeping staircases framed a landing and led down two floors to a grand atrium dominated by a magnificent chandelier. In between, a lift door stood closed. He looked up, momentarily dizzy again, and saw the stairs continued up, seemingly for eternity. How big was this place? It reminded him of the mazes he used to program on his first computer.

Do you want to open the door? Yes or no? Yes? Haha. You're dead.

Unsteady on his feet, he descended to the next floor, paused, and listened. Nothing. Another flight of stairs, and he stood below the chandelier he'd glimpsed from above—a work of art at least four feet high, made from multi-coloured blown glass. It belonged in a museum, not a private home.

But he had no time to stop and marvel. He continued past a cream leather couch and matching sideboard complete with fresh flowers, searching for signs of life.

Three archways led off the atrium, and he caught a snippet of sound coming from the left. Voices? Did they have something to do with Tia's disappearance?

Luke continued in that direction, stomach fluttering. Past a dining room, past a cavernous lounge, past a music room with a grand piano sitting silent in one corner. Who played it? This place made his home look like a shack.

Finally, he made it to the kitchen. A kitchen bigger than his first apartment, the one he'd rented in Switzerland. Two strangers looked up as he entered, and a curvy, dark-haired girl put down her mug of coffee.

"Welcome back. You want coffee? Something to eat?"

The accent said New York, and the clothes said hooker.

"Should I know you?"

"Probably not. We met last night, but you were pretty much out of it. I'm Dan, and this is Nick."

Luke sized Nick up and found himself wanting. Nick looked as if he'd just stepped off the cover of GQ magazine whereas Luke had only graced the inside pages.

"Why am I here?" he asked. "Thanks for the offer of coffee, but I need to get home."

Every time Luke thought about Tia, a ripple of fear went through him. If his heart hammered any harder, he'd have a coronary.

"Ash brought you. She asked us to help with your problem."

"My problem?" Luke played dumb. The kidnapper had said to keep his mouth shut. "What problem?"

"With your sister? How bad was that bang on the head?"

Luke's knees buckled, and he collapsed onto a stool.

"You okay? Don't worry—we've investigated kidnappings before." She took a bite out of a pastry, calm as anything.

A groan escaped Luke's lips. "Are you the police? The man who took Tia said he'd kill her if the police got involved."

"Relax, we work for a private security firm."

Before Dan could elaborate, Nick broke in. "Nice though this chat is, we have to get to work. We need all the information we can get to find your sister."

"I'm not sure about this."

"The way I see it, you don't have a lot of choice. I don't know how much you remember about last night, but you nearly got shot in the head. Trust me when I say you can't do this alone."

Ever swim out of your depth as a kid and panic when your feet couldn't touch the bottom? Luke was just surprised he hadn't drowned yet. He needed help, and he needed it badly.

Anyone who could afford this place had to be good at their job, right?

"What do we do now?"

A look passed between the pair. Relief? Suspicion?

"First, we need to work out why Tia was taken," Dan said. "That's the key to finding her."

"But I don't know why. Honestly, I don't."

Dan got up and poured another mug of coffee from a filter jug then slid it in Luke's direction.

"Has anyone threatened you?" Nick asked. "Or Tia? Any problems at work?

"Nothing. This came out of the blue." Luke sipped, hoping the caffeine would give him some much-needed energy.

"Have you noticed anybody following you? Seen any cars parked up in strange places?"

"No and no. Believe me, I've been thinking this through myself."

"I thought as much. Ash would have noticed even if you didn't."

Ash again. "How is she involved in this?"

Nick ignored the question. "What are your thoughts on the ransom?"

"They wanted £250,000 plus the source code for my company's new product."

"I know."

"How?"

Nick shrugged. "Not important. How much is that source code worth?"

"Millions, in the right hands."

"What does it do?"

"Incorporates the usual firewall and anti-virus software, but the key feature is when it detects a threat, instead of just blocking it, the code I wrote starts tracking it back to its source. Simply put, it turns the tables on malicious hackers. There are a lot of people who don't want it to see the light of day."

"So who would steal it? Hackers?"

"Possibly. Or our competitors. It's light years ahead of anything else on the market at the moment. Some individuals in the industry have dubious morals, and they'd be quite happy to use it as a base for their own software."

"So hackers, competitors. Who else?"

Luke sighed. "Anyone looking to make a quick buck. They wouldn't have to use the product themselves—buyers would be lining up for it. If the program gets out, my reputation will be trashed. What kind of cyber security expert lets his code get stolen? Plus my company will end up in the toilet. We've sunk a lot of resources into that program."

"Who knows about its existence?"

"Everyone who reads the industry press. I've been doing interviews about it for months."

"So the person who took it wouldn't necessarily need to be a techie then? Not if they could simply sell it on?" Dan asked.

"No, although I spent a few hours modifying the code so it didn't quite work. Nothing too obvious, though, in case they noticed and took it out on Tia. A good programmer could probably fix the changes in a couple of months."

Dan stood to pour herself another coffee.

"Top up?" she asked Nick.

He nodded and handed his cup over. Luke felt too sick to drink his. How could they stay so relaxed? When Dan sat down again, Luke averted his eyes as her skirt rode up so high it was almost indecent.

She didn't seem to notice. "This guy you gave the ransom to, what do you remember about him?"

Luke fought through the sludge in his head. "Not much. Things are coming back in bits and pieces, but I'm still not sure what happened."

"Talk us through what you do recall."

"The message gave me coordinates for a clearing in the woods. I was supposed to leave the bag there." Insane, now he thought about it. But desperate men did stupid things. "Except when I arrived, I saw a man on the far side, watching me."

"You're sure it was a male?" Nick asked.

"I didn't get a good look at his face, but when he punched me, it bloody hurt. I doubt a woman would have such a vicious right hook."

Nick laughed at that. "You'd be surprised."

"It wasn't fucking funny." Luke's jaw still ached from the hit.

Nick grew serious again. "Sorry. Wind back a bit. What happened when you saw the guy?"

"I walked towards him, but he held a hand up, so I stopped. He came to me instead."

"Then what?"

"He pointed a gun at me and asked for the money."

"And you gave it to him?" Dan asked, and it was impossible to miss the incredulity in her voice.

"What would you have done? Taken his gun off him?"

"Probably. You remember much about the gun?"

"Only that he pointed it in my damn face. And when I asked where Tia was, he told me I'd find out when I handed the bag over. But when I gave it to him, he just laughed."

"That was it? He laughed?"

"No, he spoke as well."

"And...?" Dan prompted.

Luke rubbed his temples as if the motion could clear the fog in his head. What had the man said? He caught the edge of his stitches with one finger, and the pain helped to focus his mind.

"He said I disappointed him. That he never expected me to be such a pushover. I told him I just wanted my sister back, and that we had a deal." Luke closed his eyes as the man's voice echoed in his ears. "And he said, 'Deal? I never said we had a deal. You took my life, and I'm getting it back.' At least I think that's right."

"Any idea what he meant by that?"

"Not a clue. It doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"Did he seem familiar?"

"Not at all. He wore a hat, and he'd covered the bottom half of his face with a scarf. His voice... His voice was kind of high-pitched for a man, but I didn't recognise that either."

"And were those his exact words?"

"I'm not a hundred percent sure. Everything's fuzzy."

"A little haziness is to be expected. Can you remember what happened next?" Dan asked.

"I saw his finger move on the trigger. No way could I outrun a bullet, so I leapt at him. What other option did I have? That was when he punched me." Luke gingerly touched his cut again. "Then I ended up on the ground, but everything's black after that."

It was more than he'd remembered this morning, and he half wished he could forget again.

Dan tapped her nails on the counter. She'd painted them turquoise with black dots, too playful for such a serious situation.

"That's okay. We've got more to work with now. His comment about you taking his life suggests your paths have crossed before, so we'll concentrate our efforts on your past. Can we get access to your employee files? Have you fired anybody who might have borne a grudge?"

She thought he hadn't considered that?

"I can't think of anyone, but I'll arrange access to the files. Whoever this guy is, he's well on his way to taking my life now, isn't he? I mean, he's got my sister, a chunk of my money, and the software I've spent years developing. What else is there?"

Luke groaned as Ash popped into his head. A week ago, she'd have been on that list, but where did they stand now?

"Oh, he didn't get the ransom," Dan said chirpily. "Ash did. It's in the strong room."

"What?"

"I guess you forgot that part. The guy was about to shoot you when Ash got there. She stopped him, but when she paused to check on you, she lost ground in the chase. The asshole jumped in a van and escaped, but he'd already dropped the bag. Probably the knife lodged in his biceps made it tricky to carry."

"Have I missed something? How did he get a knife in his biceps?"

"Ash."

Ash?

"Let me get this straight—Ash got close enough to a man carrying a gun to stab him in the arm? He could have shot her! Does she have a death wish?"

"Oh, she wasn't that close. About twenty metres away by all accounts. She threw the knife."

Dan made Ash's actions sound like the most natural thing in the world.

"You're shitting me. Is she crazy?"

Nick and Dan just looked at each other.

"Yes," they replied in unison.