Critical Doubt

by Barbara Freethy

  Chapter Twelve

  Maloney's was an Irish sports bar in downtown Atlanta. They had to park across the street and down the block, which gave Ryker a few minutes to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of sound awaiting him in that bar. The clinking of glasses, the televisions blaring with the latest game, and the cheers from the crowd could all trigger an episode. He could already hear some of those sounds now, and they hadn't even entered the place. He'd been avoiding bars and restaurants for months.

  "Ryker?" Savannah asked, giving him a concerned look. "I can do this on my own."

  He knew she could do it on her own. But he wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to track down Vic and find out what kind of trouble Todd was in. He wanted to act instead of retreat.

  "I can make it." He squared his shoulders and hoped that was the truth.

  She handed him his car keys as they paused in front of the bar. "If you need to bail, do it. No questions asked. I'll meet you back at the car."

  He both appreciated and hated her compassion. "You must think I'm incredibly weak."

  "You're not weak; you're human."

  "A weak human."

  "More like a wounded warrior."

  "Let's get this over with." He opened the door for her and then followed her inside.

  He tried not to focus on the conversation, the laughter, or the basketball game on TV. He kept his gaze on Savannah as she moved across the restaurant to the bar. For some reason, focusing on her helped.

  There was only one guy working the bar, and they slid onto two open stools, waiting for him to make his way down to them. Hopefully, this was Vic. The bartender appeared to be in his forties, with several tattoos on both arms.

  "Do you want me to lead?" Savannah asked.

  "Let's save your badge as a last resort. We might get more from him if he thinks we're just Todd's friends."

  A moment later, the bartender set two napkins in front of them. "What can I get you?"

  "Are you Vic?" he asked.

  "Who wants to know?"

  "Ryker Stone—I'm a friend of Todd Davis. I heard you might be helping him out."

  "What's it to you?"

  "Todd is missing. His car was run off the road last night."

  Vic's expression changed at that piece of information. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

  "We think Todd might have been in some trouble. Did he ever say anything to you about that?"

  "Todd was always looking over his shoulder when he was in here, like someone was following him."

  "Was someone following him?"

  "Not that I know of. Do you want something to drink? Because that's really all I have to offer."

  "I'm sure there's more you can give us," Savannah said, flashing her killer smile at Vic. "We're trying to help Todd. The police are looking into the circumstances of his disappearance, and, well, I'm sure you don't want to have to talk to them, do you? Wouldn't it be easier just to speak to us?"

  Her Southern accent seemed especially thick now, and Ryker wasn't surprised to see Vic's attitude change. He appeared almost bemused, as if he didn't know what had hit him. Ryker knew that feeling well.

  "We'd be so happy if you could help us," Savannah added. "We don't want to cause you any trouble, Vic."

  "Look, I don't know anything," Vic said. "I made some bets for him. He lost. Our association ended."

  "When did it end?" Ryker asked.

  "About a week ago. We were supposed to meet. He didn't show up. I haven't seen him since. Judging by how many bets he lost, he might have just run out of cash."

  "Did he ever talk to anyone else when he was in here?" Ryker enquired.

  Vic hesitated. "He had an intense conversation with a guy named Hank a couple of weeks ago. I didn't recognize him."

  "Did you overhear anything they were talking about?"

  "I'm not sure. I think Hank wanted Todd to ghost some girl. Todd kept saying he wasn't ready. That's all I got. Now drink or leave. What's it going to be?"

  As a cheer lit up the room at the end of a three-point play by the Atlanta Hawks, Ryker decided he'd rather leave. He tipped his head toward the door and Savannah nodded.

  "Thanks so much, Vic," she said. "If you hear from Todd again, will you tell him that his friends are worried about him and to come home?"

  "I don't expect I'll see him, but sure."

  As Vic moved down the bar, Ryker headed for the door, letting out a breath of relief when they got outside. He actually felt a little victorious that he hadn't had another attack. But the cool night air was still welcome. It helped clear his head.

  "Are you all right?" Savannah asked.

  "Do you know how much I hate that question?"

  "I'm guessing a lot."

  "You'll know when I'm not okay. So, I'll drive. Are you comfortable with that?"

  "I am."

  "Good." As they started across the street, a car came racing around the corner on two wheels, heading straight for them. He gave Savannah a hard push, sending her flying into the space between two cars and then he leapt out of the way as the car sped past them. "Stay down," he told Savannah, putting a hand on her shoulder as she started to get up. He looked down the street, but the car was gone.

  An older man came running across the street to ask if they were all right.

  And for the second time in less than a minute, he had to say he was fine, as he and Savannah got to their feet.

  "That car almost hit you," the man said. "He was driving like a maniac."

  "You didn't happen to get a license plate, did you?" he asked.

  "No, sorry, it was too dark. You should call the police."

  "We'll do that. Thanks." He took Savannah's hand and they hurried down the block to his rental car. Once inside, he flipped the locks and gave himself a second to really look at her. Her eyes were wide and bright in the shadowy light, but he didn't see any new injuries.

  "I think you saved my life—again," she said.

  "That car was out of control. Maybe they were drunk."

  She stared back at him, her gaze serious. "They weren't drunk, and they weren't out of control. We need to get out of here, Ryker. You need to drive. Now."

  Her tone got him moving. He started the car and drove down the street, keeping an eye behind them. "Where do you want to go?"

  "Away from here."

  He maneuvered in and out of city streets, until he was sure they weren't being followed. Then he pulled over on a busy street with plenty of traffic and bright lights. "I think we're good."

  "Someone followed us to the bar. But the question is where did they pick us up?" she asked. "At Carmack Securities? At Brittain Park? Or did Jackie deliberately send us to the bar?"

  He thought about her questions. "Jackie did send us to Vic, and Vic knew Todd. But I don't think she set us up. I could be wrong, but she seemed genuine in her concern for Todd and for finding answers."

  "I thought so, too. That means we were followed."

  "But why try to run us down?"

  "We're asking questions, and someone is getting nervous. That's one possibility."

  His gaze narrowed at the odd glint in her eyes. "What's another possibility?"

  "You could be a target, Ryker. This might not be about us; it could be about you."

  "Why would someone want to kill me?"

  "I don't know. But Paul is dead. Todd is missing, possibly also dead. Jackie said Todd was scared, that he mentioned she could be in danger if she was with him. What if someone is taking out your team, one man at a time? It always looks like an accident or suicide. But it's not." She paused, letting her words sink in. "The explosion at Todd's house could have been meant for you. Not to cover anything up but to take you out. And tonight…"

  He frowned. "I get it, Savannah, but I can't think of anyone who would want me dead."

  "Vic mentioned that Todd had an intense conversation with Hank. That could be the Hank from your unit, right?"

  "Probably. But I don't know what he would
be doing in Atlanta. He lives in DC."

  "DC," she echoed. "The text Jackie read came from a DC number. Why didn't Hank come to Paul's funeral?"

  "Todd said Hank couldn't get away from work."

  "Not the best reason, considering how close you all were, what you went through together. What's your relationship with Hank?"

  "I don't have one anymore. I haven't talked to him since before I had my first knee surgery. Out of everyone on the team, Hank was my least favorite. We butted heads a lot. He liked to second-guess my decisions, but I let it go, because he was tremendously good at his job. I knew I could count on him." He paused. "Vic said they were talking about ghosting a woman. That's not surprising. Hank was never into relationships. He was always telling us not to get tied down. But I can't see how Hank and Todd having a drink together and talking about a woman is of any relevance."

  "Well, Hank might know more about Todd's gambling problems."

  "True."

  "And even if he doesn't, we need to talk to him."

  "We also need to speak to Mason," he agreed. "If there's any chance you're right about someone targeting us, they need to know what's going on."

  "Where does Mason live?"

  "Last I heard he'd moved to Bethesda."

  "Which is close to DC." She glanced at her watch. I don't know if we can catch a flight from Atlanta to DC tonight, but we should be able to get one in the morning."

  "We? You don't need to go with me, Savannah."

  "Yes, I do. I'm following the clues, and that's where they're going."

  "If I'm a target, you're not safe. You should stay away from me."

  "It's too late for that. We've been a lot of places together already. We're connected and whoever just tried to run us down knows that. Even if I'm not with you, I'll be a loose end. I prefer not to wait for trouble. I'd rather get out in front of it. And we can back each other up."

  Her words made sense, but he didn't want her to get hurt because of him. On the other hand, if they stayed together, he might be able to stop that from happening. "All right. Arguing would be a waste of breath, wouldn't it?"

  "Yes. I'm as stubborn as I am suspicious and cynical."

  He smiled. "Got it."

  "Let's go to a hotel by the airport. We can book our flights, and I can contact my team and see if they can tap into the cameras by Maloney's. If we can find the driver of that car, we'll have a clue. But first, we need to turn off our phones, just in case anyone is tracking us."

  "I think we're going to need a phone to find a hotel."

  "I've got a burner phone in my bag. It's not traceable."

  He met her gaze. "Sometimes I forget who I'm with." He turned off his phone. "Tell me where you want me to go."

  Forty minutes later, Savannah checked them into a hotel next to the airport, using her task force-issued fake ID and credit card under the same name. She didn't want anyone to be able to track their location through a card transaction. With their phones off, and after the circuitous route they'd taken to the hotel, she was as sure as she could be that no one knew where they were.

  As they took the elevator to the sixth floor, she felt like she was once more stepping back into the past. But five years ago, the elevator ride she and Ryker had taken together had passed in a blur of passionate kisses and hungry touches. She barely remembered how they'd gotten from the bar to Ryker's room, and once he unlocked his door, they'd been all over each other.

  Even now, her heart beat faster at the memories.

  Ryker was staring straight ahead, but she couldn't help wondering if his mind wasn't going down the same memory lane.

  But she wasn't going to ask him. If he wasn't on that path, she didn't need to put him there, not with a long night looming ahead and only one room, because they really did need to stay close to each other for safety reasons. Although she had made sure there were two beds. She had to keep some boundaries. Didn't she?

  When the elevator doors opened, she peered into the hall before stepping out. Their room was midway down the corridor. She used the keycard to open the lock and then entered the room.

  It was a modest room, nothing special: two full-sized beds, a dresser, a television and a small table by the window with two chairs. She moved over to the window, noting that their view was of the airport. She hoped the noise from the planes wouldn't drive Ryker mad, although at the moment she couldn't hear anything. They weren't under the flight path, so that was good.

  "Do you ever wear earplugs?" she asked, as Ryker moved next to her. "I'm thinking about airport noise. There are probably some earplugs in the gift shop downstairs."

  "I've tried earplugs and noise-canceling headphones. Sometimes they work, but often they don't. I wish I could say there's a pattern, but there's not."

  "Well, we could run down and pick some up."

  "I'm more interested in food. I'm starving. What about you?"

  "I could eat."

  "Looks like there's room service." He picked up the menu from the table. "Shall we stay in?"

  That meant more time alone with Ryker, but a noisy hotel restaurant would not work for him. "That's perfect." They sat down at the table and perused the menu, and then ordered turkey club sandwiches with fries and salad, with Ryker adding in a slice of apple pie.

  "Sweet tooth?" she asked with a smile. "I wouldn't have guessed that."

  "Guilty. Especially when it comes to pie. What about you?"

  "Chocolate is my kryptonite."

  "Damn. We should have ordered the chocolate cake."

  "No, it's good that we didn't. But I might steal a bite of your pie."

  "You don't have to steal it. I got it to share."

  She gave him a smile. "You seem relaxed for the first time all day."

  "I feel relaxed. I don't know why considering everything that's going on."

  "Maybe it's just that we're back inside a quiet room."

  "That could be it."

  She pulled the burner phone out of her bag. "I'm going to call my team and see if I can get someone to tap into the cameras by the bar."

  "While you do that, I'll run downstairs. I saw a clothing shop off the lobby. I could use a change of clothes for tomorrow. Do you need anything?"

  "No, I have clothes in my overnight bag. Should I go with you?"

  "I can handle it myself. It's not really a two-person job, Savannah. I may not be a federal agent, but I've got this."

  She knew he needed her to see his strength, so she said, "You're right. I'll stay here."

  "Put on the dead bolt after I leave. I'll knock three times when I come back."

  "Got it." Despite her agreement, she hated the idea of him going out on his own. But she shouldn't be worrying about him. Even with his PTSD issues, the man was a soldier.

  After bolting the door behind him, she called Flynn. "It's me. I'm on a burner phone."

  "That doesn't sound good," he replied. "How is Dobbs?"

  "I'm actually in Atlanta now. Things have gotten complicated."

  "With what? The guy who went into the river?"

  "Yes. It's looking like someone might have forced that accident to happen. There was an explosion at Todd's house earlier today, which Ryker and I narrowly escaped, by the way."

  "What the hell, Savannah? I thought you were just helping a friend."

  "That's how it started."

  "Were you hurt?"

  "A few scratches, no big deal. Then Ryker and I came to Atlanta to speak to Todd's coworkers."

  "Ryker is who again?"

  "One of Todd's friends. They served together on the same ranger team. Anyway, we were following leads regarding some potential trouble Todd might have been in when someone tried to run us down. Now I need your help tracking down that car. It happened in front of a bar named Maloney's on Fourth Street in Atlanta. We didn't want to hang around to look for security cameras, and the only witness wasn't able to get a license plate."

  "What about the police? Did you call them?"

  "I
didn't want to involve them. It would have taken too much time. And this situation is complicated. This wasn't a random event. Someone came after us, and I think it's because we're asking questions, or because Ryker might be a target. Two guys from his former team die within four days of each other under mysterious circumstances. Now, someone tries to blow up the house Ryker was staying at and then run us down. There are too many odd coincidences at play. I have to figure out what's going on. I just need someone to tap into the security cameras around Maloney's and see if the car and driver can be identified. I can take it from there."

  "All right. I can do that. But what's the game plan now? Where are you? Do you need to get to a safe house?"

  "No. I'm at a hotel. We're heading into DC tomorrow to talk to the other two members of Ryker's team who are still alive."

  "Which makes you a target if you stay with this guy. Why are you staying with him?" Flynn asked curiously. "Is this really just about your friend? It sounds like she's completely out of this now."

  "This is still about Abby's husband. If his death wasn't an accident, then I need to find Paul's killer."

  "And that's all?"

  "That's all you need to know," she said pointedly.

  He uttered a small laugh. "Fair enough. If you're headed to DC, why don't you check in with Parisa? Jax is also in DC. He flew in last night to track down a lead in the Bleeker investigation. If you need help on the ground, don't go it alone."

  "I won't." She knew she could count on both Parisa and Jax. It was nice to know that she could pull in additional backup if she needed it.

  "In the meantime, I'll work on finding that car."

  "Great. I may be out all week on this, Flynn."

  "Do what you have to."

  "Thanks." She ended the call, reminded once again that she'd made a great choice when she'd decided to work for Flynn. She had plenty of autonomy and a boss who respected her enough not to question her decisions. He also understood personal commitment to family and friends. With that thought in mind, she decided to call Abby. With her other phone off, she needed to make sure that Abby wasn't trying to reach her.