Worth the Risk (Book 3, Wolff Securities Series)

by Jennifer Lowery

  He hadn’t called his brothers yet. Service up here was next to nothing, but that wasn’t the reason he hadn’t called. He didn’t want them to jump on a plane and come help. He had to do this alone. Whatever waited for him on the other side of that mountain was for his eyes only. And, he wanted to lay this to rest without the prying eyes of his family. He loved them dearly, would die for them, but some things were personal and needed to be handled solo.

  Pushing through his exhaustion and jet lag he punched the gas and climbed the hill. The compact car chugged a second before shooting forward.

  By the time the sun peeked over the mountain top, Kell was edgy and restless to get out of the car. He stopped for fuel, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips along with a couple bottles of water then got back on the road.

  Leaving the mountains behind him, he continued toward his destination. Didn’t take long for the scenery to change from mountains to rural areas and eventually into city. Not as big as the capitol but adequate enough to get lost in.

  He zigzagged through backstreets until finally he arrived at his destination. He parked on the street, behind a row of cars nicer than his, making his stand out like a sore thumb. Not a good start.

  Grabbing his bag, now stuffed with weapons, he walked to the front door of the two-story red brick home. He didn’t really know what he’d expected to find at the end of the journey, but it certainly wasn’t a nice house in one of the more upscale areas of the city.

  On edge, he rang the doorbell. Moments later, the door was opened by an Azabak woman wearing traditional dress. Her dark eyes met his.

  “May I help you?” she asked in accented English.

  “I’m looking for Shea Morrissey.”

  The woman’s face tightened. She grabbed his sleeve and nudged him inside, closing the door quickly behind them. “You are the wolf?”

  He frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “The wolf. Miss Shea gave me strict instructions. If she didn’t return home after six days then send the messages from her phone and wait for a wolf to show up. You are the wolf?”

  The wolf. She misunderstood and thought he was a wolf instead of Kell Wolff. The good news, he’d made it to the right place and the messages had come from Shea. Not directly, but her all the same. So, not dead. Missing. Missing he could do.

  “I’m Kell Wolff,” he said. “Yes. The…wolf.”

  The woman’s head bobbed. She said a prayer in her native tongue. “I am Alsu. You will find her? Miss Shea, she is never gone for this many days without contacting me. I hear nothing so I send messages.”

  “You did the right thing,” Kell said. “Did she leave you further instructions once I arrived?”

  “Yes. Yes. Follow, please.”

  He trailed behind her, scanning the richly decorated home as they walked through a living room and through a closed door into a small office. A computer sat on the mahogany desk, along with the usual suspects for an office: pens, pencils, pad of paper, green shamrock paperweight holding down a stack of papers. File cabinets lined one wall, all locked. And bookcases filled the rest of the room.

  The woman pulled a slip of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Miss Shea said you know what to do.” With that, she walked out of the room and closed the door to give him privacy.

  Kell set his bag on the floor near the door and unfolded the paper. Two words. They looked like a username and password so he sat down in the desk chair and opened the laptop. He’d swear he could smell lily of the valley. Shea’s signature scent. She told him once that she special ordered the perfume from Ireland because it reminded her of where she came from. He thought it smelled sexy as hell on her.

  Pushing those thoughts away he waited for the computer to come on. Once it booted up he typed in the credentials and the main screen popped up. A mesmerizing black and white image of a forest that seemed to have no end.

  Feeling like an intruder, he scanned the files for something pertaining to him. When he found one labeled Favorite Dumpling Recipes he clicked on it. To anyone else it would appear to be a folder with recipes, but to him it meant something. He and Shea shared a love of pelmeni. A tradition Azabak dish of meat dumplings. They’d ordered room service three times during their weekend together in Bahodir and each time it had been pelmeni. He remembered nibbling the dumplings off Shea’s navel during one particular mind melting bout of sex.

  Sex that ended in pregnancy and miscarriage.

  Sobered, Kell filed those thoughts away for another time, and started scrolling through the files in the folder. Some were videos, some redacted papers.

  He clicked on the first video. An interrogation room came into view. Crude. A CIA black site, he guessed. An Azabak man sat at a table, hands secured behind him. His face was bruised and he looked rough.

  Shea entered the room and sat down across from the man. She wore a smart suit with pants that hugged her slender frame and a blouse unbuttoned to reveal just enough of her femininity without making her look overtly sexual.

  Kell’s eyes trapped on her curly auburn hair, pulled back in a sloppy ponytail as always. He knew she did it more to control her unruly curls then for looks because she’d let that mane of thick hair free and he’d spent hours running his hands through the tresses.

  Focus.

  He shook the memories off and continued to watch. Shea began to ask the man questions about Ramil Diakameli. It soon became clear that this man was a courier for the terrorist.

  Kell sat back in his chair. Jesus. She’d found a link to Diakameli’s inner circle. He’d known she was good at her job. But, damn.

  It also meant Shea was involved in the assassination of the bastard. It shouldn’t surprise him. Shea had been hunting the man for four years. Since the day her sister was killed in a car bombing. He’d known about that even before she told him in the death video.

  So, what did this video have to do with Shea’s disappearance?

  5

  Cedar Falls, Michigan

  Dani curled up in the lounge chair, happy to be alone for the first time today. She’d convinced Evan he didn’t have to watch over her and she planned on taking a long bath and then bed. He hadn’t believed her, but left just the same. Although here, she was never really alone. Not with Ryan’s presence so strong around her. Inside her.

  She rubbed a hand over the tiny swell of her belly. Their baby. The last thing Ryan had given her. A gift so precious she could barely wrap her head around it.

  Tears sprang to her eyes. She’d almost screwed everything up. Her grief so strong she’d turned to sleeping pills to make it through the days and nights. Believing her nausea and vomiting had been from grief. Never once thinking it might be from pregnancy.

  Regret filled her, pushing tears from her eyes. It was too early to know if she’d done any harm to the baby. God help her if she had. She would never forgive herself.

  At least she wasn’t alone anymore. Yes, she had the entire Wolff family near her, always checking in, bringing her food, getting her out of the house, and helping with chores. But, it wasn’t the same because at the end of the day she still went to bed alone. Hugging Ryan’s pillow to her chest just to be near him. Wearing one of his shirts so his scent would be wrapped around her all night.

  She hadn’t touched any of his things and didn’t plan on it. They had built this house together and that was how it would remain. Just the thought of removing anything of his made her heart ache. Keeping him near was how she moved on. Despite what everyone thought.

  The day she packed Ryan into boxes and carted him off would be the day she died.

  Knowing the heartless, cruel bastard responsible for taking Ryan away from her was dead eased the ache. But only a little. She was happy Diakameli was dead and the Wolff family was no longer in danger from him, but it didn’t replace the terrible emptiness inside her.

  How could a person hurt so much without breaking?

  Her doctor had suggested grief counseling to help her deal with everything
, but she refused. She wasn’t ready to talk about Ryan. To let him go. Just the thought of it made her hyperventilate.

  No, she was going to do everything in her power to make sure their baby grew up happy and healthy and knowing his or her father.

  And from here on out she would take the best care of herself possible. Follow all of the doctor’s instructions to the letter. This baby was the most important thing in the world and she wanted him/her more than anything. So much it hurt.

  Wiping away her tears, Dani drew in a deep breath and let it out slow. Starting now, no more tears. Only happy thoughts. For her and the baby.

  Jamshid, Azbakastan

  Kell closed the lid on the laptop and leaned back in his chair. All he knew at this point was that Shea had been involved in Diakameli’s demise. He didn’t know where she was or what had happened since.

  His gut churned with unanswered questions.

  Only one way to get answers. Find Shea. He couldn’t be certain if she was dead or alive at this point, but he owed it to her to keep looking until he knew for sure.

  Time to hit the streets. Find Shea’s CI and see what he knew. She’d left a file with a name. Just a first name, but he knew what it meant. This Yosef was someone she trusted and that was where Kell planned to start.

  A light knock on the door. Kell invited the Azabak woman in. She had a plate of food in her hand and a bottle of water. His stomach growled at the delicious scents coming off that plate.

  “You are hungry, no?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” He accepted the offering and set it on the desk.

  “You are tired?”

  He nodded, taking a bite of the noodles and meat. Exhausted, actually. A power nap would revive him.

  “I will make up the guest room. You, sleep. Then work.”

  She reminded him of his mom. Telling him what to do and daring him to argue. He knew better than that. Besides, he could use a couple hours.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, taking another bite.

  The woman nodded and left him to finish his meal. He cleaned the plate, drained the water bottle and immediately felt better.

  When she came to retrieve him, he grabbed his bag and followed her up to the second floor. Most doors were closed so he couldn’t see any of Shea’s secrets.

  The guest room was simply decorated with matching wardrobe, dresser and sitting bench at the foot of the bed. Definitely a feminine room with the muted, flowered wallpaper.

  He thanked the woman and she bowed out, closing the door behind her. Kell put his bag down and slipped out of his boots. He didn’t bother to change. Instead fell down on the bed without disturbing the bedding. He drifted off to sleep with the scent of Lily of the Valley haunting him.

  A loud noise brought Kell awake. Not sure what had awakened him, he bolted out of bed and slipped his boots back on. He reached inside his bag for a Sig Sauer 9mm and slid it in the waistband of his pants at the small of his back.

  Another noise. Voices. Men’s voices. Alsu, talking quickly. Kell wasted no time getting downstairs. Four men were in the house. One American and three Azabaks. The three men were rooting through Shea’s closets and shelves, tossing her house.

  Alsu saw him first and rushed over to his side. She looked terrified. He moved slightly, putting himself between her and the intruders.

  The tall American wearing the fancy suit directed his attention at Kell. He extended a hand. “Dan Peters. And you are?”

  Kell accepted his handshake, noticing how smooth Dan’s was. Not a man accustomed to physical labor. A paper pusher.

  “A friend of Shea’s. What’s going on here?”

  Dan let his evasive answer slide, but Kell expected he would know his identity within minutes. If he was who Kell suspected he was.

  “You haven’t heard?” Dan asked.

  “Heard what?”

  “Miss Morrissey’s body was recovered last night. She committed treason and it appears the other side didn’t want her either.”

  Kell showed no reaction, despite Dan’s searching for one. “I hadn’t heard that. You worked with her?”

  Dan nodded. “Sorry to spring that on you. Given Miss Morrissey’s background, we can’t be too careful. Did she mention anything to you about her work?”

  “With the CIA? Not really. We weren’t that close.”

  Kell’s gut churned. What the hell was going on?

  “Yet, here you are in her house, apparently taking a nap.” Dan’s sharp gaze pinned him down. Kell gave nothing.

  “I’m visiting from the states. Long flight.”

  “Mmm, hmm. When is the last time you saw Miss Morrissey?”

  “I just arrived this morning. I haven’t seen her.” He stuck to the truth as much as possible. Made lying easier. “Now I know why. Are you sure it was her?”

  “Oh, very sure. Dental records confirmed it.”

  “Dental records?” Jesus. If this was true, Shea had died a horrible death. He refused to accept that. His gut told him something was off here.

  “Yes, I can’t go into much detail, but her death was particularly brutal.”

  Kell feigned shock. This guy almost made him believe it. He heard Alsu gasp and begin sobbing softly behind him.

  “Well, we have work to do here. I trust you’ll stay out of our way?”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’m afraid that’s classified. Why don’t you take Alsu into the kitchen and make her a cup of tea. We’ll be out of your way soon.”

  Not wanting to raise any suspicions, Kell guided Alsu into the kitchen and gently pushed her down into a chair. He handed her a tissue from the box on the counter. Every time something fell in the other room the woman jumped.

  Kell’s mind reeled. The CIA was here, claiming Shea’s death, and tossing her house for classified materials. It all seemed too real and he didn’t like it. Dan Peters sounded like an alias, typical for spooks, and he had revealed information about Shea’s death without confirming Kell’s identity. The bits and pieces weren’t adding up. Yet, he couldn’t fit them all together.

  One thing he knew for sure. He had to find Yosef. Then maybe he could get to the bottom of this and find out what the hell was going on.

  6

  Jamshid, Azbakastan

  Shea breathed slowly. In. Out. In. Out. With every breath she felt her life-force draining from her body. The last bout had been particularly brutal. She hurt everywhere. But that wasn’t what scared her. The steady patter of blood droplets hitting the floor did.

  She tried to lift her wrist, to stop the bleeding, but her restraints were too tight and allowed no movement. She was going to die here in this empty room, slowly and alone. The cut they had made on her wrist was small, not very deep, but enough to bleed out. One drop at a time. It was a heartless, cruel way to end someone’s life.

  And she was powerless to stop it.

  Shea closed her eyes, trying to block out the hollow ring of her life draining away. Images floated through her head. Her parents, so happy before the accident. Her sister, so young and beautiful. Full of life and living every moment to the fullest. Brianna had always been smiling. Nothing got her down. She’d gone through a bit after their parents passed, but she bounced back quickly. Believing things happened for a reason, if they were painful. Shea never shared her outlooks on life, preferred to see things for what they were. She’d learned that the world was full of bad people who did bad things and she spent her entire career taking them down one by one.

  The CIA had recruited her straight out of college. She’d studied psychology, determined to learn why people did what they did. What caused a person to climb behind the wheel of a car after having too many drinks?

  Dan had been the one to approach her one bright summer day. She’d been sitting on the lawn, studying for finals, when a tall, handsome man approached her. He’d been wearing a tailored suit and didn’t sit beside her. Instead, crouched down and introduced himself as a recruiter. Later, he would become h
er handler and confidant. A man she looked up to and respected. Someone who pushed her hard and demanded the best from her. And she delivered.

  She’d liked the clandestine life of the CIA. Liked becoming someone else on occasion. Loved the triumph of turning a target. But, there were downsides to always lying and pretending. You lost sight of who you really were and the things that mattered. She’d been too wrapped up in her work to warn her sister about the dangers of being an American in a foreign country. Wars were breaking out daily at the time as the IPA tried to overthrow the presidency. With Diakameli at the helm. It wasn’t until after her sister’s murder that she focused her attention on bringing down the man and his organization. The CIA had bucked her at first, but her leads were too good to be ignored. And she was too bullheaded to let anyone take her progress away so what choice did they have?

  A lot, she’d learned later. Her insubordination hadn’t been out of spite that someone else had been given her case, it had been out of desperation and a strong need for vengeance. She’d seen too many innocents perish at the hand of terrorists like Diakameli and she wasn’t letting him get away with it.

  Now, as she looked back, she realized Dan had tried to stymie her work. He’d tried getting her off the case, offering up a higher value target, but she wouldn’t bite. Diakameli was personal. She knew it was dangerous to get personally involved but it didn’t stop her. Didn’t even slow her down. The personal cost far outweighed her desire for revenge.

  She’d hit many walls, as expected when hunting a target this valuable, but now she realized it wasn’t because of her skill. Dan had been throwing up road blocks in effort to stop her. And now he had succeeded in stopping her. No one knew where she was. No one was coming for her. Unless, by some miracle, Alsu had followed her instructions and was able to log onto her phone and send the SOS to Kell. Alsu was a smart woman, but she struggled with technology. At this point she could only pray the messages had gone out.