And the level of comfort she’d experienced around Dimitrios, not that she’d told Reilly about that. Not to mention the trepidation she’d battled when she saw the file on the house in Lincoln City. Could she have been responding to some sort of repressed memory?
“Did you check him out?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Married, three kids. Triplets. Two boys and a girl. The girl was declared dead after a fire started in her room when she was two. I guess it destroyed half the house.”
“If he believes she’s dead, why would he think you might be her?”
That was the question of the day. “I have no idea. But he claims I look like his sons and his wife.”
“I don’t know. He sounds a little mental to me.”
“There’s no apparent history of mental illness.”
She pushed up from the bed and paced to the window. Inched the drape back to peek out at the sun-drenched day. The air conditioner kicked on and she rubbed her arms against the sudden chill.
Too bad the chill was more than skin deep.
She turned and met Reilly’s calm stare. “Her name was Milana.”
The TV down the hall provided the only noise for what seemed like an eternity.
“Did he–” Reilly cleared his throat. “Did he say that before or after he learned your name?”
“Before.”
“What does he want?”
“To compare stories. See if there’s any chance.” Memories of the anguish in his voice assaulted her. She offered a limp shrug and shook her head. “You should’ve heard him. I don’t think he’s crazy. And I don’t think he’s done something like this before.”
“Do it.”
The firmness in his tone surprised her. “What?”
“Meet with them. Compare stories.”
“Are you nuts?”
“What’s it going to hurt?”
“Uh, them.” Not to mention what it might do to her, but she left that part out. “They get their hopes up that their daughter’s back from the dead only to find out she’s not.”
“What if it’s true? Face it, you have the same name–”
“There are other Milanas in the world.” None that she’d met, but still, there had to be other people with that name.
“–about the same age, same physical characteristics and coloring. You might be her.”
“Oh yeah? And how’d I get from Oregon to Florida at age two, huh? Sleepwalk?”
“We lived in Denver until you turned four, remember?”
She’d forgotten that little detail. But it changed nothing. “That’s still a lot of miles in between.”
“He might be able to explain that. You won’t know until you talk to him.”
She tried to erase the memories from her mind. The familiarity around Dimitrios. The look in Cyrano’s eyes. Lykos’ tears.
They told us she was dead.
Lykos’ words rang in her ears. Hadn’t he seen the body for himself?
None of it made sense.
“If it were me, if it was my kid, I wouldn’t give up until I knew for sure that she was gone. Until I had the body in front of me.”
“I hear you, but everyone deals with loss differently. If you really want answers, it’s not me you should be talking to.”
Unfortunately, she had no desire to talk to the man who did hold the answers. “Well, then maybe I don’t care. I haven’t needed to know before and I don’t need to now.”
“You should hear him out. There could be something to this.”
“Or it could be nothing. Bodies don’t disintegrate in a fire. And get this. He was a firefighter. He’d know that!”
He scrutinized her. “You know what I think? I think you’re afraid to learn the truth.”
Dang it. Why’d he have to be so good at reading her?
She turned away from his probing gaze. No point in denying it. “Sometimes it’s easier to believe a lie.”
“Sometimes the truth is better than you expect it to be.”
“And if it’s not?”
“At least you’ll know. Besides, we don’t even know for sure that there’s any relation between you and this family. All this anxiety might be for nothing.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Do more than just think about it. Pray about it.”
Pray. What a novel idea.
Worrying had distracted her from the one thing that would have helped her the most.
God, please give me wisdom to know how to handle this. And strength for whatever comes next.
Peace bled into her anxiety.
This encounter, no matter how much it had surprised her, was not a surprise to God. She could rest in that.
Even if everything else in her life felt like a washing machine stuck on spin.
Fifteen
“I don’t like you going out there alone. Especially with someone like Stevens around.”
Lana zipped up her jacket before meeting Reilly’s scowling eyes. “Relax. Stevens doesn’t even know I exist.”
“The man’s been hired to kill me. You don’t think he’s done his homework on my family?”
“Actually, I don’t. Stevens has never gone after family.”
“What if he starts now?” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
“Even if he knew about me and found a picture so he’d know what I looked like, he’d expect me to be back home, not here. People see what they want to see.”
“I still don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. It’s part of the job.” Coming up behind him, she gave his shoulders a small squeeze. “It’s okay. I have my gun, a knife, an earwig and communicator, plus my cell phone. Not to mention my mad martial arts moves.”
At least that one earned her a small smile.
The smile didn’t mean he agreed, however. She didn’t wait for a rebuttal before crossing the room and exiting the suite.
Wind blasted her as she stepped outside, the sharp chill biting through her jacket. Fighting the wind with every step, she headed a short distance down the beach.
The tricky part would be to keep the hotel in view while maintaining her cover. Running into Nate tonight might make that task easier, as she’d be able to position herself to see both him and the hotel, but it would also distract her.
Of course, he might not even show up tonight. The cold wind would be enough to keep any sane person inside.
She jogged for a few minutes, her gaze fixed almost constantly on the balconies along the top of the building. Once she’d gone so far she could no longer unobtrusively watch the top floor, she turned around.
Her attention locked on a lone figure strolling toward her.
While the gait was becoming familiar, it was the camera slung around his neck that cinched his identity.
Nate.
Slowing as she approached, she casually positioned herself so Nate stood between her and the hotel. The balconies were clearly visible beyond his shoulder, so she should be able to keep an eye on them without seeming too obvious.
“I thought I might have to run to catch up to you.”
“I move pretty fast for a short thing, huh?”
He chuckled. “Not quite what I was thinking, but yeah. I mean, yeah, you’re fast, not that you’re short–”
She laughed as his face matched the sinking sun. “It’s okay. I came to grips with being vertically challenged a long time ago.”
The color lingered on his cheeks. “What I really meant was that I didn’t want to have to run.”
Balconies clear.
She shifted her attention back to Nate as he rushed on, “Not that I mind exercise. But, you know, there’s this thing,” he held up the camera. “And I’m just gonna shut up now.”
Hmm, he sure seemed to tripping over his words tonight.
Unusually nervous because he was an assassin trying to hide his identity from her? Or just having an off night?
Given that he was here with her rat
her than bungee jumping off the roof like Alex obviously thought Stevens might, she’d go with the latter option.
“How’d you get started in photography?”
A shrug traveled his shoulders. “I picked up a camera, started snapping pictures, and was hooked.”
“You must’ve taken some classes or something, right?”
“Nah, everything I know is self-taught.”
The words played in the background of her mind as she skimmed the top of the hotel. No sign of anyone on the roof or balconies.
Big surprise. It seemed unlikely Stevens would choose such a visible method of attack.
Of course, within a few minutes, it would be too dark to tell if someone was up there. He could probably parachute in wearing blue spandex and a cape and she wouldn’t be able to see him.
She forced her attention back to Nate before he could get suspicious. “Well, I’m impressed. I thought for sure you would’ve at least had some college credits behind that camera.”
“School’s expensive. Not a lot of people care what happens to kids lost in the system.”
Sad. The most tragic part was that he spoke the truth.
“Sounds to me like you might be called to raise awareness. Your photography gives you a good platform.”
“Me? Don’t think that’s my thing.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “How is it that we always end up talking about me?”
“I’m a pretty boring topic. Photography is much more interesting.”
“Guess that depends on who you ask. I like taking pictures, but not talking about it.”
“Really? But it must take you to so many cool places.”
“Yeah, but…” He shook his head. “And there we go again. Enough about me. Did you become a caretaker because of your brother?”
“No, I was recruited, if you can believe it. I met my current boss while I was working in a related field and he told me I should apply for an opening in his department. Simple as that.”
In reality, there had been nothing simple about that case. She’d only been a police officer for two years when she’d stumbled upon clues that led to the arrest of the man who held the number three spot on the FBI’s most wanted list. It had turned into a huge interagency operation and by the end, Barker was encouraging her to join the Marshals.
Not that she could tell Nate any of that. Someday, maybe, but definitely not now.
“That’s cool. I’m sure you had to get some extra training?”
“A ton.” A gust of wind enveloped her in a cold that seeped into her bones. Night had swallowed the final traces of sunlight five minutes ago. “Wow, it’s getting late. I need to head back.”
“Now I think you’re avoiding the topic.”
“Topic?”
“Of you. You ask me all these questions, but when the conversation gets to you, it’s time to go. Pretty suspicious.”
In spite of his teasing tone, the words concerned her. Arousing suspicion was the last thing she needed.
Make excuses or play along?
“Okay, you got me. I’m really a spy for a hostile government and am here doing research on the top secret operations your country has based at this beach. But don’t tell anyone.”
His laughter confirmed she’d chosen the right option. “I knew it had to be something like that.”
“Honestly, I’m not trying to be all dark and mysterious. And I’m not running away, but it’s getting late. And cold. Doesn’t this wind ever let up?”
“Not often. Okay, fine, I’ll let you off the hook for now. But maybe you could tell me more tomorrow. Over dinner?”
Dinner. No way. Not with Stevens out there gunning for her brother.
“Dinner’s not going to work. I have–”
“That’s right. I forgot dinner isn’t a good time. How about lunch?”
No lingered on her tongue, but didn’t make it past her lips. She wanted to accept. Even if it did mean another round of carefully watching what she said and how much she revealed.
And Stevens had never been known to strike a target during daylight, so it should be safe enough.
Then again, Stevens had never been known to miss before, either.
There was a first time for everything. She couldn’t take the chance that Stevens would choose to make this his first daytime hit.
“I don’t think–”
Dang it. Why did she have to see that flicker of disappointment?
Just. Say. No.
The word refused to travel past her lips. “I don’t know what we have going tomorrow, so I probably shouldn’t commit to anything.”
“No problem. Let’s play it by ear like last time. Say that fifties style diner on the main drag at one? If you’re there, you’re there and if not, well, then I’ll know you couldn’t get away.”
“That’s not fair to you. I can’t leave you hanging like that.”
“I consider it an acceptable risk.” White teeth glowed in the twilight. “I’ll see you then.”
“Maybe.”
He smiled like he hadn’t heard her as he turned and headed back the way he’d come.
For crying out loud. What was wrong with her?
The answer to his invitation should’ve been easy enough to say. No. How hard was that?
She never had trouble standing her ground. She’d been doing it for years, especially when working. So why was she being such a pushover now?
First with Nate, then with Lykos, and now with Nate again. She needed to find her spine.
Jogging a short distance, she scanned the beach.
If Nate was still out here somewhere, she couldn’t see him. Which meant he likely couldn’t see her.
She headed back to the room.
Punching the call button for the elevator, she couldn’t seem to keep Nate from invading her thoughts. Obviously she couldn’t go. But she hated the idea of him sitting at the diner alone.
It was his own fault, really. After all, she’d told him she couldn’t make it.
Kind of.
The elevator doors slid open. She stepped into the unoccupied elevator and jabbed the button for the fifth floor.
Maybe she should’ve gotten his phone number. Then she could’ve at least called and told him she couldn’t get away. And she wouldn’t have had to see his face when she turned him down, either.
A soft ding indicated her arrival. As she exited the elevator, she glanced toward the sitting area by the stairs where Peters had been posted.
The chairs were empty. As was the couch.
What the heck? Alex had told Peters to watch the area until ten p.m., when Chow was scheduled to relieve him. So where was he?
She stopped in the middle of the hallway. Listened.
The only sound was the ding and whirr of the elevator descending.
The doors to both suites were closed. She hadn’t heard any chatter to indicate any kind of trouble. In fact, communication had been at a minimum tonight.
Which could mean things were quiet.
Or it could mean that a highly-skilled assassin had taken the team out one-by-one.
An arctic blast pumped through her veins and a block of ice lodged in her stomach. The silence surrounded her with a presence that was both oppressive and ominous.
She reached for the button on her communicator, but stopped short of pressing it.
If Stevens had breached their defenses, he might be listening.
She couldn’t let him know she was out here.
With a glance down the empty hallway, she slipped her gun from the holster and eased toward their suites.
The soft swish of her shoes on the carpet seemed deafening.
She paused by the stairs leading to the lower floors and looked over the edge of the four foot wall. Though she couldn’t see every part of the flights below her, no trace of movement caught her attention.
A clunk echoed in the enclosed stairwell directly beyond the stairs.
Those stairs only led to the roof, nowhere els
e. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, especially not at this time of night.
A faint cough sounded from behind the door.
Her fingers tightened around the gun’s grip. She inched forward.
Careful. It could be Peters.
Or it could be someone else. Why would Peters be hanging out inside the rooftop access stairwell?
The door opened when she was only five feet away. She whipped up her gun and sighted on the solid man stepping through the opening.
Peters.
Recognition dawned as irritation-laced words flew from his lips.
“You better point that thing somewhere else.”
That was all he had to say for himself? She bit back irritation of her own. “I wouldn’t have even had to pull it if you’d been at your post. What were you doing?”
“Thought I heard something.”
“Did you let anyone know?”
His scowl confirmed her suspicions. How could he be so reckless?
As if reading her thoughts, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t answer to you.”
Praise God for that. “No, but your actions impact all of us. What is your problem, anyway?”
“You. You shouldn’t even be here.”
Of all the narcissistic… “If it weren’t for me,” she drew in a deep breath and lowered her voice, “the witness would be dead right now.”
“The witness is your brother. This thing has conflict of interest written all over it.”
“No one else seems to have a problem with it.”
“Or maybe they just aren’t sayin’ so.”
Ugh! Like arguing with a tree. “Well, you might as well get used to it, because I’m not going anywhere.”
She brushed past him and approached the suite.
Putting up with his attitude had been bad enough, but this time he’d put everyone at risk. Including himself. Stevens could’ve been waiting in there, slit his throat, and stolen his earpiece before any of them even knew anything was wrong.
She’d tell Alex about this and if Alex wouldn’t do something, she’d take it higher. File an official complaint.
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