Bulletproof & Locked, Loaded and SEALed

by Cynthia Eden

  She clicked the key fob. “Wow, that’s really some James Bond stuff right there.”

  “Naw.” He stuffed the detector in his pocket. “Pretty basic, actually.”

  He dropped into the passenger seat beside her, and she handed him her cell phone. “Navigate, please.”

  As she pulled out of the parking lot, he glanced at the phone and directed her to turn right at the next lights.

  On the drive to Brookline, she stayed just under the speed limit and her tires didn’t squeal once.

  “The address is another two blocks up on the right.”

  She slowed the car. “Nice neighborhood.”

  “It’s coming up.” He dropped his gaze to the phone. “Just about…”

  “Are you kidding me? It’s seven twenty-eight, isn’t it?”

  He jerked his head up and swore as they rolled past a house under construction. “Pull over. I suppose we should’ve expected this. A phone number with no voice mail and an address with no house.”

  She parked the car and Austin jumped out. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he approached the half-finished house.

  Sophia hovered at his elbow. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s living here, either.”

  A truck rumbled up behind them, and Austin stepped to the side to allow it to pull into the dirt driveway. A man exited the truck and clapped a hardhat on his head. “Can I help you folks?”

  Austin cleared his throat. “New construction or a remodel?”

  “New construction. A developer bought the property and razed it. You interested? We had a buyer, but he pulled out.”

  Sophia asked, “Was the buyer named Patel?”

  “No, ma’am. Why? Someone you know?”

  “A friend. He’s looking, too.”

  The man fished a card from his front pocket. “If you’re interested, here’s the number for the sales office. The developer has a few other properties in Brookline.”

  “Thanks.” Sophia took the card and Austin nodded at the man, who turned toward the bed of his truck.

  When they got back into Sophia’s car, they turned to each other at the same time.

  Austin smacked his knee. “Fake name, fake address, fake phone number. How are we going to find this guy?”

  “Dr. Fazal’s memorial service. If he was a friend, he just might show up.”

  “If he wants to keep a low profile, he won’t show up. He might be worried the same guys who took out Fazal are now gunning for him.”

  “What was between those two?” She gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “Patel shows up, Dr. Fazal starts acting nervous, pretends Patel’s a patient, probably to talk to him in private and cover his tracks, and then Dr. Fazal winds up dead—murdered. Why did he have to come here and stir up trouble for Hamid?”

  A sob caught in her throat, and her fingers curled around the steering wheel in a death grip.

  Austin brushed his knuckles down her arm and covered one of her hands with his. “Hamid was never out of trouble, Sophia. Nobody had to stir it up for him. He must’ve been living life with one eye on the rearview mirror ever since we got him out of Pakistan.”

  “But he was happy. He wasn’t afraid—until this Patel showed up.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You made him happy. He cared about you, and that gave him a reason to live and hope.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Do you need to go back to the office?”

  “No. Ginny’s doing the bulk of the work, notifying patients, getting their files together for the next doctor. They still need their treatment.” She started the car and glanced over her left shoulder.

  He placed his hand on the steering wheel. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?”

  “Why? Did I scare you on the way over?”

  “Your driving was okay. My heart rate went up only once.” And he didn’t want to tell her that was when she’d puckered her lips to drink from her bottle of water. “You look tired and stressed.”

  “I am tired and stressed, but I think you just like being in control.”

  He shrugged and then rolled his shoulders. “I’m not gonna deny that.”

  “I’m good.” She pulled away from the curb to prove it. “Back to the hotel?”

  “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

  “I have nothing and no one right now—not even a job to go to.”

  “You have patients, too, right?”

  “My patients are all Dr. Fazal’s patients. They’re not going to follow me anywhere. I’m still in training. I’ll definitely have to look for another job, and with my background?” She gave a dry laugh that seemed to lodge in her throat. “That ain’t gonna be easy.”

  He turned his head to watch the passing scenery—clumps of old snow on the side of the road and stark trees trying to form hard buds in the still crisp air. “All that stuff… It’s in your past. You were practically a juvenile.”

  “Ah, practically, but not quite.” She twisted her head around, her gaze doing a quick search of his face. “How much do you know about me?”

  She focused her attention back on the road, and he studied her profile, her wide, generous mouth at odds with the hard glitter she let creep into her eyes all too often. What he knew about this woman only scratched the surface.

  “Of course, we did a background check of the people closest to Dr. Fazal.”

  “That wouldn’t be many, since he liked to keep to himself.”

  “I know that.”

  Sophia’s phone buzzed between them on the console.

  “Are you going to get that?”

  “I may be a bad driver but I don’t answer the phone when I’m behind the wheel.”

  His hand hovered over the phone. “Should I?”

  “If it’s important enough, the caller will leave a message.”

  Was she expecting a call from someone on that dating website? His youngest sister, who lived in LA met guys online, too. When he and his brothers had found out they’d hit the roof, but she just laughed at them. Said everyone met people like that, and it was perfectly safe. Nothing was perfectly safe. He glanced at Sophia. Especially when extremely lethal terrorists had you in their crosshairs.

  When they edged into the semicircular drive in front of the hotel, he said, “It’s going to be tough having two cars. Just leave it with the valet, and he’ll park it.”

  “Valet? Are you kidding? That costs a fortune.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You have a thing about paying for parking, don’t you?”

  “It’s expensive to park in Boston and spaces are at a premium.”

  “I’ll pay for it—work-related expense.”

  “How long are you going to be on this job, anyway?”

  “Should be hearing something about that soon.”

  She pulled in front of the hotel and jammed on the brakes. He jerked forward and back, his head hitting the headrest. “Wow.”

  “Is there a possibility that you’ll be ordered to return to regular duty?”

  “I was sent out here on a mission to protect Dr. Fazal—that failed.”

  “Okay, but…” She huffed out a breath. “Yeah, you’re not supposed to be here, anyway.”

  She opened the car door for the valet standing at her window and snatched the ticket from him.

  Austin didn’t want to leave any more than Sophia wanted him to, but his job description didn’t include protecting anyone but Fazal—mission over.

  Sophia charged ahead, and he took long strides to follow her. Her stiff back and squared shoulders screamed anger, but he already knew her anger masked fear or disappointment. Maybe he did know Sophia better than he thought he did.

  He caught up with her. “Is this a race?”

  �
�I just want to be alone, but I can’t even go back to my own apartment, can I?” She punched the elevator button with the side of her fist.

  He ran his hands down her arms and she practically vibrated beneath his touch. “We’ll have you back home soon.”

  “Yeah, when you decide to ditch this place. Then I guess I’ll be free to do what I want—including die.”

  The elevator doors opened and he bit down on his reply as a stream of people exited the car. Three other people entered the elevator after them, and Austin shifted toward the panel of buttons to make room.

  He lowered his voice. “Did you check your call?”

  “It’s from Ginny, probably with some questions about the office. She left a voice mail. I’ll listen to it when we get to the room.”

  When the elevator settled on his floor, they squeezed out of the car and walked silently to the room.

  He opened the door for Sophia, and she took her phone out of her jacket pocket and wedged her shoulder against the window. She tapped her cell and listened, her eyes getting wider and wider with each second.

  His pulse ratcheted up several notches. “What’s wrong? What’s she saying?”

  “I’ll let you listen.” She tapped her phone and a woman’s high-pitched, strained voice came over the line in a rush of words.

  “Where’d you take off to so fast, Sophia? You left, Morgan left and Anna took off right after her. I was stuck doing the patient calls. Do you know how hard it was to repeat over and over that Dr. Fazal was dead?” A sob broke into her words and then she continued.

  “Of course you do. You found him. And if that wasn’t stressful enough, a man came by the office and he was looking for you. I mean, really looking for you. He said he was a friend of Dr. Fazal’s and he did have a similar accent. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Finally I told him to give me his number and I’d give it to you. So here it is, but you’d better call me back before you contact him.”

  She recited a phone number and ended the message with an urgent “Call me.”

  Sophia crossed her arms. “What do you think? Is that Patel or…maybe the guy from last night?”

  “I’m not sure, but you’re not calling him back on your phone. You don’t want him to have your number.” He dragged his own phone from his pocket. “We can use mine. It can’t be traced, but you’d better call Ginny first and get all the details. Is she usually…excitable?”

  “She can be, but I’ve never heard her like that before. It could just be the added stress of contacting the patients this morning. I’ll call her now.”

  “Speaker, please.”

  Sophia placed the call. It rang four times, and then a man answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello?” Sophia’s eyes jumped to Austin’s face. “Who’s this?”

  “This is Officer Kelso with the Boston PD. Are you calling Ginny Faraday?”

  Austin’s heart thudded in his chest, and he held his breath.

  Sophia lowered herself to the edge of the chair. “Yes. Why are you answering her phone? Where’s Ginny?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Ms. Faraday was just involved in an accident, a hit-and-run.”

  Sophia gasped, and Austin took two steps and crouched beside her.

  “I-is she okay?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. Ms. Faraday was fatally injured.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The man on the other end of the line kept asking questions, but Sophia had slipped into a fog. Ginny had just called her. How had this happened?

  Austin took the phone from her slack fingers. “Officer Kelso, my friend is in shock. Can you tell us what happened?”

  “From witness accounts, Ms. Faraday stepped off the curb and a car careened around the corner and hit her. The car took off.”

  Sophia hugged herself and rocked forward. An accident. It was just an accident.

  “Is your friend related to Ms. Faraday?”

  “No, a coworker.”

  “Does she know a relative we can contact? This just happened. Ms. Faraday is—is still at the scene.”

  Sophia closed her eyes and covered her mouth with both hands. Death and loss. When did it ever end?

  Austin poked her arm. “Next of kin for Ginny?”

  Her eyes flew open. “Kara Germanski. She’s Ginny’s sister. I’m sure her number’s in Ginny’s phone.”

  Austin relayed the information to the cop and then ended the call. He placed her phone on the table and remained on the floor by her side.

  Twisting her head toward him, she whispered, “Unbelievable. How can someone just run over a human being and leave her in the street?”

  “Sophia.”

  “No.” She covered her ears.

  “Ginny was murdered.”

  She doubled over and touched her forehead to her knees. “Why? Why would he hurt her? She took his number, gave it to me.”

  “We don’t know that the man she spoke to was the one driving the car or even if they were working together. Maybe the number you have is Peter Patel’s. Maybe someone saw her talking to Patel and took care of business.”

  He put a hand on her bouncing knee. “We need to go back to the office and retrace her steps. I need to get hold of that accident report to see if there were any witnesses who said anything about the car or the driver.”

  She poked at the phone with her fingertip, scooting it away from her. “Should I call him now?”

  “No. Let’s go to the office first. Are you going to tell the nurses?”

  “Oh, my God. I can’t handle that right now. Anna is going to fall apart.” She ran her hands across her face to make sure she wasn’t falling apart. “Do you think the police are going to connect Ginny’s death to Dr. Fazal’s?”

  “Any good detective would. They’ll investigate it.”

  “Should we go back now?”

  “I need to make a few phone calls first. Do you want something from the minibar or the vending machines?”

  “Is that a hint to get me out of the room?”

  “Or I can leave.”

  She pushed up from the chair and swept past him. “I’ll get a soda from the machine. Do you want something?”

  “Anything with caffeine. Do you need some money?”

  “I got it.” When she stepped into the hallway and the door slammed behind her, she leaned against the wall. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

  She thought she’d left the violence and ugliness behind her when she’d finally gotten away from the south side. Hadn’t everyone always told her if she finished school, got a degree and found a good job trouble would stop following her? She’d done all of that, and it looked like trouble had found her, anyway. It always would.

  She launched herself off the wall and crossed the hall to the room with the ice and vending machines.

  She braced her hands against the buzzing machine, hanging her head between her arms. If Austin was in there getting orders to abandon this mission and return overseas where he belonged, she’d be in real trouble.

  Did the US government care about that? Care about her? She puffed out a breath. Who was she kidding? When had any government entity ever cared about what happened to her? Child Protective Services had failed her at every turn.

  Austin cared. She hadn’t been imagining that, but he’d disappear in a flash if his superiors ordered him to scrap the mission.

  She fed a dollar bill into the machine and selected a diet soda for herself. Then she put another bill in and punched the button for a soda for Austin. She couldn’t blame him if he had to follow orders.

  Maybe she could ask the sniper for some shooting pointers before he left. She needed the practice.

  When she returned to the room, she held out a can to Austin, stretched out
on the bed, his arms crossed behind his head. “Caffeinated, as you requested.”

  He curled his hand around the can, his fingers pressing against hers so that they were both holding on to the can. His eyes met hers across the space between them. “Good news.”

  “They caught Dr. Fazal’s killers, Ginny’s killers and I’m completely out of danger.”

  His lips twisted. “Why’d you do that? Now my news isn’t going to make an impression.”

  “Try me.” She pulled her hand away from his and popped the tab on her own can.

  “After I told my commanding officer everything that was going down out here, he checked with Ariel, who authorized me to stay at least until I can identify Peter Patel.”

  “That is good news.” Taking a sip from her can, she turned away from him so that he couldn’t see just how much that news meant to her. She had to play it cool because soon he would leave—even if it wasn’t today.

  “I’m ready, even though it doesn’t look like it.” Austin swung his legs off the side of the bed. “Do you want to walk over or drive?”

  “Might as well walk. I could use the fresh air to clear my head.”

  “Me, too.” He held up his can. “We can drink and walk at the same time.”

  She slipped her jacket from the back of the chair. “Do you think the cops will still be at the scene? Ginny won’t still be there, will she?”

  He glanced at the alarm clock by the side of the bed. “It’s a fatality. An accident-investigation team will be at the scene for hours…and Ginny’s body will be, too. Do you want to give it another few hours?”

  “It’ll be getting dark in a few hours.” She stuffed her arms into the sleeves of her jacket. “Besides, you want to talk to the cops, right?”

  “They’re not going to talk to me until I get some sort of approval from the FBI. Since the FBI doesn’t want to acknowledge I’m here looking into Fazal, that’s not going to happen, but I can look at the accident scene myself.”

  With their sodas in hand, they stepped outside the hotel and into a cool, sharp breeze. Sophia flipped up the collar of her jacket while glancing over her shoulder.

  “Are you okay?”