by Jodie Bailey
A shadow drifted over her, hovering. She eased one eye open and found Sam leaning over her. “Welcome back to the world, sleepy head.”
“You’re here.” Her voice came out in a raspy whisper, her throat still aching from the swelling. Something in her mind had assumed that, now that she was out in the world, he would move on to the next assignment, would make the clean break that would hurt for a moment but would save them both a world of hurt in the long run. As her eyes adjusted to the light in the room, he came into focus, his brown eyes tired, dark circles beneath them. But he smiled at her and it erased his fatigue.
“I wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”
“You’re okay?” He was allergic to bees too, and it had to have been his epinephrine that he’d injected her with at the cabin. It would be just like him to put her life ahead of his own. “You didn’t react?”
“You don’t have to talk. I know it hurts.” He brushed her hair from her forehead, following the motion of his hand with his eyes. “I’m only allergic to bees. Never reacted to a wasp. You, on the other hand, seem to have a sensitivity to both.” He sat in a chair she hadn’t noticed beside the bed and wouldn’t meet her eye. “Seems our would-be killer is someone who knows you well and is using what they know to their advantage.”
“I know them? Or Grant told them?” The information had been in her file at work, and she’d kept epinephrine with her at all times, even when she was working at the spa. “It could be anyone.”
“Regardless, I missed this. I thought of guns, bombs, car chases... I never considered someone would toss a giant wasp’s nest through a window to get to you. I knew you were allergic. It should have been on my list of—”
“Stop it.” Amy lifted her hand, grimacing at the sharp ache in her joints, and held it out, inviting him to take it. When he gently laid his palm in hers, she wrapped her fingers loosely around his. “You couldn’t have imagined this. You’re human. You can’t know everything. It’s impossible.”
“It’s my job.”
“To keep me alive. And you did.” She squeezed his fingers. The room stopped its swirling and the shaking slowed to a dull hum deep in her insides. The medicine must be doing its job. The only other time she’d had to go to the ER, things had cleared up pretty quickly once the IV was in. But she wasn’t important right now. Sam was. Her physical pain was no comparison to his emotional and spiritual wounds. She should know. Her freedom was so new, she could still feel the tenderness in her chest. “What was it you said to me at the cabin? That I had to forgive myself? Well, I have. It’s time for you to follow your own advice.”
Sam withdrew his hand from hers and sat back in the chair, crossing his arms. “I hear you. But as long as you’re lying there as pale as the sheets, it’s a little bit hard not to believe I bear the brunt of the responsibility.”
“You can’t—” A knock on the door stopped her argument and turned Sam’s head.
A man she didn’t recognize stuck his head in the door. His brown hair was slightly longer than military regulations would allow, and he sported a beard that was neatly trimmed yet covered the lower half of his face. This must be Rich.
Gray eyes flicked past her to Sam and he lifted a cell phone. “They’re trying to call you. Signal’s in and out.”
Sam was on his feet and halfway to the door before she realized he was in motion. He wasn’t leaving her here alone, was he? “Sam?” It would be a wonder if he could hear her feeble voice.
He stopped and pivoted toward her. “You’re safe. Two Asher Creek police officers are outside the door. I’m coordinating for the Marshals Service to get here from Asheville. I’ll be right outside. Since we’re already in the open, I reached out to my team and they’re getting back to me. I have to take this call.” He stepped toward her, then stopped himself. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
Before she could argue, he disappeared out the door with Rich close behind.
Amy turned her face to the wall. He was in contact with his team. She was out in the world again and he would turn her over to the regular team now, a team of marshals who would escort her to Washington, DC, and relocate her somewhere else in the country. If they couldn’t figure out who was behind the resurgence of Grant Meyer’s organization, then she was destined to spend the rest of her life as another person. Only this time it would be so much worse, because her new identity wouldn’t include Sam. She’d already lost so much—including her twin sister—but losing Sam would cut so much deeper than anything else.
Voices outside the door turned her head, but none of the three belonged to Sam. Two deeper male voices and a female voice laughing with them. Probably the police officers and a nurse.
Sure enough, there was a light tap at the door and a cheery “Knock, knock!” A nurse in gray scrubs slipped in and carefully shut the door behind her. Her chestnut hair was knotted at the base of her neck and there was something familiar about the way she stood.
Amy pushed herself up slightly. The woman reminded her of...
The nurse turned and faced Amy, leaning back against the door with a slight smile on her face.
“Layla?” What? How had the other woman found her? Had she relocated here? Become a nurse? Was it a huge coincidence that Amy had landed in the same hospital as the woman she’d rescued from a life of trafficking and helped to hide from both the authorities and Grant Meyer?
It didn’t matter. Relief robbed her muscles and made her feel weak all over again. Layla was safe after all. She may have disappeared when Amy had tried to locate her before, but she was safe. “You’re okay.” She rasped the words, wishing they were louder.
“I’m fine. Always have been.” Her dark eyes scanned the room. “You’re by yourself?”
“For now.” Maybe forever, if Sam was immediately reassigned. The thought that she might never see him again, that he might move on without her getting the chance to tell him how she felt almost chocked her as much as the wasp venom had. But she had more pressing things to focus on. Layla was here. It should bring her joy. Instead, Layla’s unexplained appearance set her stomach churning. Or maybe it was a side effect of her day.
She watched as Layla pushed away from the door and strode toward the bed, her eyes searching Amy’s. She punched some buttons on the IV machine.
Amy watched. Did Layla work here? Wouldn’t that be a huge coincidence? “How did you find me?”
“Easy.” When she reached the bedside, Layla lifted Amy’s wrist and tapped the face of the watch she’d put on only a couple of days earlier. “You led me right to you.”
Amy’s eyebrows drew together. The watch? Nothing made sense. The wasp venom and the epinephrine must be doing a number on her brain. “I don’t understand. You were looking for me?”
“Ever since WITSEC offed you in El Paso. Nice ruse there, making everyone think you died in a car accident. It was a little bit too convenient, but I nearly believed it. I’m sure Grant did too, for a minute.”
“I’m sorry.” She’d never wanted to cause anyone pain, not Layla, not her sister, not any of her friends or coworkers in Texas. “I tried to find you, to warn you that Grant—”
“I knew what he was doing. I also knew he wound up in jail. He was stupid, getting caught going after your twin sister. I thought he was smarter than that.”
The things Layla was saying... It was almost as though she knew everything, had been following the whole situation. It was almost as though she knew more than Amy did. Fear zipped through her, though she couldn’t explain why. There was no reason to be afraid of Layla. She’d been the one to point Amy in the direction of Grant and Logan’s crimes in the first place.
Her expression must have shown her doubt, because Layla’s fingers tightened around her wrist, digging in. “If you’d put on the watch sooner, I’d have found you sooner.”
“What?” Why did she keep talking about the watc
h? “You’re hurting me.”
“Not for long.” Layla glanced at the door, then pulled a water bottle from her pocket. “If I remember correctly, you have a serious allergy not only to bees but to bee pollen.” She kept one hand wrapped tightly around Amy’s wrist while she unscrewed the cap on the water bottle with the index finger and thumb of the other hand. “Bad enough that given your already weakened state, it could kill you.” She smiled down at Amy.
Amy’s heart beat faster and a painful shot of adrenaline hit her bloodstream. She tried to fight but her body rebelled in its exhaustion. Fear and residual pain trapped her voice in her throat.
“You and Anthony are my last loose ends, Amy. Thank you for believing in my innocence and helping me disappear and avoid the authorities and their questions all those years ago. It made it so much easier to keep the organization running while Grant was hiding.”
Faster than Amy could follow, Layla let go of her wrist and grabbed her jaw, squeezing her mouth open and pouring water in. Amy choked and gagged, trying to turn her head, but Layla was relentless. Water forced its way down her throat.
The reaction was immediate. Her lips tingled. Her throat ached and swelled. Bee pollen. In the water. No.
Layla stepped back, poured a cup of water from the pitcher beside the bed, took a sip, then laid the cup by Amy’s hands. “They really should have kept you on that epinephrine drip a little longer.”
As she headed for the door, Amy wheezed and choked, fighting for breath as the world faded to black.
* * *
Sam pressed Send on the phone then leaned against a window at the end of the hallway and glanced toward Amy’s room. The two police officers still stood guard. The nurse they’d admitted when Sam left slipped out and walked in his direction. She stopped, smiled at him, then checked her watch and turned on one heel toward the nurse’s station. Probably forgot to make notes.
Beside him, Rich also watched the hallway, although no one was in view except nurses and doctors. He pushed away from the wall. “I’m going to go sit with Amy while you make the call.” He walked off in the direction of the nurse’s station, pausing by Amy’s door to speak to the police officers. He reached out to open the door, then stopped and stepped back to continue chatting with the officer on the right.
Sam glanced at his own watch. It had only been three or four minutes since he’d left Amy, but he was antsy to get back. He’d wandered farther from her door than he’d wanted, but he hadn’t been able to get a good signal in the hall. Hopefully, here by the window, he’d be able to hear what Dana’s broken message had been trying to tell him.
She answered on the first ring. “Sam!”
“I couldn’t get a signal. I think we’re good now. Listen, I need—”
“Sam, where are you?”
“At the hospital with Amy.” Even though he was making contact, he was leery of giving an exact location over Rich’s unsecured cell phone. “She was attacked by—”
“Get her secure. We know who’s after her.” Dana was more no-nonsense than he’d ever heard her be. “We’ve been trying to locate you and, since I remembered to write the debit card number down, tracked your usage of the card to follow you as far as the hotel fire outside of Franklin. We managed to get security footage.”
Sam straightened, already walking toward Amy’s room. He’d have to move her, but he wasn’t sure how and even if she was in any condition to be moved. They’d pulled her epinephrine, so maybe he could get her somewhere secure. Now that he had his team back online, his options were wide open. “What did you find?”
“There were two people in the hotel on the floor you guys were on after the alarm went off. A man and a woman. Both armed. The woman looked straight at the camera as they breached the door of the room next to yours.”
Amy’s room. They’d known where she was all along. “Do we know her?”
“Not yet. We picked up the male suspect not too far from the hotel. He’s a gun-for-hire and claims he doesn’t know who the woman is, just that she offered him a nice chunk of change to help her out. I’ve got a still of the video running through facial rec and am waiting for a hit, but that takes time. On a hunch, I ran her face against surveillance photos from one of Grant Meyer’s spas, the one where Amy worked. She’s a match. I’ve sent the photo to the number you’re calling from. Be on the lookout for her. She’s one of your bad guys.”
So it really was someone who knew Amy personally. Sam pulled the phone away and glanced at the screen, but the message hadn’t come in yet. Rich’s phone only had one bar, barely enough to hang onto this phone call. “I’m waiting. Anything else?”
“Not right now, but be careful and be on the lookout. Whoever this woman is, she doesn’t seem to have a lot of muscle behind her or she wouldn’t be hiring locals to do her dirty work, but she’s definitely determined.”
“Call me at this number the minute you get more. I’ll be in touch.” As he killed the call, the phone dinged with an incoming text.
Sam pulled it up to find a split screen image. One shot of a woman in the hallway of their hotel, one at the entrance to New Horizons Day Spa.
Both of them showed the same nurse who had exited Amy’s room only a moment before.
He broke into a run, shouting for Rich as he pulled his weapon. “Go! Go get that nurse. Now!”
Without asking for a reason, Rich broke away from his conversation with the police officer outside of Amy’s door and took off in the direction of the nurse’s station. The other officer followed. Sam prayed the woman hadn’t created herself a cushion that gave her enough of a head start to get away from them in the small hospital.
Brushing past the remaining police officer, Sam burst into Amy’s room with the cop on his heels.
Amy’s face was swollen and red. Water soaked her hospital gown and the sheets across her chest. Her lips were tinged blue.
No, no, no. Sam leaned over her, feeling for a pulse, listening for breath. She wheezed softly, her pulse rapid and thready. She was still with them.
He whirled to the officer who’d come in behind her. “Get a doctor. A crash cart. Something. She’s relapsed.” Not relapsed. She’d been attacked. Again. Under his nose.
Forty-two, forty-one...
SIXTEEN
Amy blinked her eyes open, a strong sense of déjà vu sweeping through her. She’d been here before. Had done this exact thing before. If she turned her head to the left, Sam would be beside her, watching over her.
She blinked against the dim light and shifted her head to find Sam sitting exactly where she’d known he’d be, relief slacking the muscles in his face as he took in a deep breath of what had to be relief. “Welcome back to the world, sleepy head.”
He’d definitely said that before. How was she here again? There had been wasps stinging her, Sam dragging her across the floor, the hospital...
Layla.
Amy struggled, trying to sit up, fighting the IV in her hand. She had to run. To flee. It was Layla. Layla wanted her dead.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam stood and rested his hands on her shoulders, gently easing Amy against the pillows. When she’d calmed, he pressed the button and raised the head of the bed slightly so she didn’t feel so vulnerable and helpless. As her head lifted, her heart rate eased and the clinching in her chest eased, allowing her to breathe. “It’s Layla, Sam.” Her voice rasped against residual swelling. “Layla’s trying to kill me.”
“We know.” He slipped his hand under hers. “Dana found security footage of her at the hotel and we saw her coming out of your room. Rich and one of the police officers who was guarding your door caught up to her as she tried to flee the hospital. She’s in custody. She force-fed you water loaded with bee pollen.” He grimaced, then gifted her a gentle smile. “You’ll be fine. I doubt you remember, but the nurses got you cleaned up so there wouldn’t be any residual issues. You�
�re going to be fine.”
As the fight for survival eased, the sense of betrayal swept in, a tidal wave that flooded her emotions. Tears pressed against the backs of her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. Amy turned her head away from Sam. The pain of her friend’s treachery hurt worse than any ache in her body.
“You okay?” Sam’s voice was heavy with compassion, maybe even pity.
She’d never been one who desired pity. It was the worst thing anyone could do to her. But she needed answers. “Why?”
Sam’s fingers tightened around hers. “She fooled everyone, not just you. Dana shot me some info while you were sleeping. Turns out Layla isn’t even her real name. It’s Sienna Burgaw and she has a record longer than your arm. And despite what she told you, she wasn’t in the country illegally.”
“Then why did she want to hide from the investigators? Why did she lead me to all of the information on Grant and Logan?”
His thumb ran a lazy circle on the soft skin of her wrist, the feeling the touch brought completely incongruous to her emotions. “Sienna Burgaw was an underling working for Meyer and Cutter, keeping an eye on things from the inside, making sure no one got too close, but she got greedy. She saw a way to shut them down while keeping their operation running and the money going into her pocket, so she tipped you off, had them both outed to the authorities, and there was no indication to either of them that she was behind it. She fed you the story about being an illegal and afraid of the authorities, so you hid her pretty well. No one suspected. Meyer and Cutter assumed you stumbled on the information and went after you, which would have eliminated you as her source. She had Cutter murdered several months ago before he could put things together, and she started tying up loose ends immediately after, letting Meyer come after you. When he was arrested, he was a liability who could rat her out if he thought it would get him a reduced sentence, so she had him murdered. She was smarter than all of them. Her last two loose ends were you and Anthony.”