I didn’t know the details of how, although I suspected it had something to do with trying to meet someone shady, or lure someone out of hiding… that the informant had been out in public, supervised but not supervised enough.
Corbin had been with me when it happened, and it had led to an unexpected and intrusive search of our hotel room.
“How did he die?” I asked.
“Gunshot. It was an execution.”
I tightened my arms around Corbin’s waist. I was vividly aware that my pulse had tripled, but Corbin’s heart beat as steadily as ever. Nothing ruffled him. Considering that I was already wasting too much time worrying about the long-term effects of Corbin’s former career as an assassin, I didn’t allow the thought to dwell in my mind.
His warm hand slid lower, around my hips. There was nothing sexual in the gesture; he was merely keeping me close while he used his other hand to dial a number.
“His death isn’t why I was called,” Corbin told me, muffled tones ringing from his phone. “You don’t shoot someone in the back of the head and throw the body into a river unless you want to send a message—”
“I was just about to call.” Through the phone, Jennifer sounded as alert as Corbin.
Jennifer’s relationship with Corbin had never been anything but professional, but I had to admit that my mouth went a little dry at hearing her voice. She didn’t know I was listening; suppose she said something… incriminating? Jennifer was gorgeous, intelligent and capable. She probably looked like a supermodel even at this hour. I snuck a glance at the glass door, at my blurred reflection.
It was completely ridiculous. There had never been anything romantic between them. I blamed that big-ass lock on Corbin’s office door for making me paranoid.
“Can you access the live stream?” Corbin asked her. “If not, I can patch you in.”
“That would be appreciated,” she said. “I won’t ask how you knew I can’t log on.”
“I’ll send a link.” He hung up.
This time I didn’t wait for him to explain; clearly he was about to go off and do something that most likely wouldn’t include me. He didn’t have time to bring me up to speed, and I was done breaking myself on the rocks of his secrecy.
Gently, Corbin removed his arm.
“Because of the assassination,” he said, “the decision was made to start Audrey’s rescue attempt immediately.”
My heart actually stopped.
This was it, the thing I’d been dreading even though I’d spent a lot of time and energy pretending it wasn’t a big deal.
Corbin’s ex would be rescued. She’d be taken to Paris. Corbin would see her, talk to her.
He’d made it clear he would always love her. She was why he’d become an assassin. If she hadn’t been declared dead, they’d still have been married.
Corbin was already walking away… toward his office. Of course.
I struggled to keep my churning emotions under control. And failed.
“Wait…” What I meant was Please don’t leave me alone right now. “What’s the live stream?” My voice only shook a little.
“Turn on the television,” he called out.
Baffled, I grabbed the remote to turn on the TV, but the household computer beat me to it—Corbin hadn’t been talking to me, I realized, feeling foolish. The computer’s obedience was a little unnerving. Obviously it was always listening, and I didn’t know how I felt about that.
I’d once brought it up with Corbin, and he’d said it was completely secure but he would disable it in whichever rooms I wanted. I’d dropped the subject.
Corbin returned from his office carrying an eight-inch, L-shaped plastic box. Stripes of electrical tape wrapped around the two pieces. I doubted it was something he’d bought at a local electronic store.
“It’s a satellite phone, a router, and… some odds and ends,” he said when he noticed me staring. “Have a seat, but don’t expect this to be the most riveting movie of your life.”
Surprised by the invitation, I lowered myself to the sofa, perching on the edge of the seat. My fingers curled around the cushion, digging into the plush fabric. Even though nothing had happened yet, I felt sick to my stomach, like I’d already received terrible news.
Corbin did something on his phone. It vibrated until he placed it atop the L-shaped contraption, which he then aimed at the TV.
The TV screen turned black, then green.
I couldn’t see anything, but I heard voices speaking a language I didn’t understand. It sounded like French, but I couldn’t be certain. Sometimes I caught snatches of English.
“What is that?” I whispered. “What’s happening?”
Corbin’s eyes were fixed on the screen. “It’s the same feed our on-site team is following,” he said when the voices fell silent. “There’s a chance we won’t see anything. This maneuver was conceived as a night operation, so that’s what the cameras are optimized for.”
“Do you think it was wise to move so quickly? Maybe it’s a setup—”
“It’s certainly a setup. Give me a second.” He turned his attention to the cell phone. He seemed to be messing with its settings. Finally he placed the phone, still atop the box, onto the coffee table.
He settled next to me, though not as close as he usually did. I couldn’t blame him for that.
In a few minutes, he’d see… well, he’d hear his ex-wife.
The woman he’d pledged his life to. He’d believed she was dead for over five years. At the time of her disappearance, he hadn’t even known she was a spy. Her abduction and death had changed the course of his life, turning him into a vigilante, and later a government assassin.
Audrey’s rescue would be the first step toward discovering the truth. If it turned out that his fears were right, that she’d betrayed everyone who loved her, I didn’t know how Corbin would handle that. It would mean she’d turned him into a killer, and for no reason.
So far, he’d been processing everything in the typical Corbin Lagos way.
By keeping it in.
By acting like nothing was bothering him.
Even Corbin could only take so much, surely. As I looked at him, his thick muscles, his stony countenance, I wondered what would happen when he reached his limit.
Chapter 6
“Get comfortable,” Corbin said. “It will likely be hours before anything happens.” He seemed about to say more, but a burst of conversation blared through the speakers, cutting him off.
“What did they say?” I asked, knowing Corbin would have told me if it was important but unable to help myself.
“They’re just checking in,” he said. “They’ve been watching the area closely ever since they pinpointed it as Audrey’s likely location.”
He didn’t say “where Audrey is being held” or “hiding out.” I wondered if his neutral choice of words was intentional.
More French crackled through the TV.
“They’re trying to rig an alternate video source,” Corbin summarized. “It’s not easy to surveil a house in the middle of the day for no reason.”
My leg began to jiggle with nervousness, and I willed it to be still.
A few minutes later, there was another burst of conversation.
“They’re checking in again,” he said.
“Thank you,” I murmured. Corbin squeezed my knee. “No problem.”
For forty minutes, I sat on the edge of the sofa. My ass went numb, and my spine felt like the vertebrae were fusing together. My elbows practically stuck to my sides.
“What you were saying about this certainly being a setup,” I said during a long stretch of silence. “What would you have done differently?”
Corbin frowned slightly. “Probably the same thing, unfortunately. It’s possible that everyone in that house has been killed. There wasn’t any activity today. No one near a window, no pull of electricity, no discernible heat signatures. Either they’re gone, or they’re expecting us. That building has secret roo
ms hidden behind thick walls.”
“What about the Internet?”
“Our terrorists only use disposable phones,” he said. “It doesn’t make a difference, though. They’re careful. I’d like to believe the murder was a warning to other would-be informants. Or maybe he had simply served out his usefulness and had become nothing but a liability. I can think of a thousand different possibilities. Including that it could well have been a ploy to get us to move quickly on any operations we’d been setting up. We simply don’t have enough information to know at this point.”
I processed that. “I would have made a move on another location,” I said. “Let them think I had bad intelligence, then secretly set up the operation here.” I gestured at the screen.
One side of Corbin’s mouth curled in a smile, his lips unintentionally seductive. “You’re crafty, baby.”
“Think I have a future in espionage?”
The smile vanished, and he turned an angry face my way. “Over my dead body.” He held my gaze, flames practically erupting from his eyes.
Terrifying.
“Bathroom break,” I said, shooting to my feet.
I headed to the one in the master bedroom so I could grab my phone. Even though I hadn’t been keeping Rob updated on all the details of Corbin’s ex—or rather, the paltry details that I’d been given—Rob knew the broad strokes of what had happened.
The operation in progress was important enough that I wanted to tell him, but at the same time I doubted I was allowed to.
At the very least, I wanted to hear my brother’s voice. He could always be counted on to tell a joke, make me laugh. Unfortunately, it was too early to call, so I sent a text. I have news about Massimo. Call me the second you wake up.
I tossed the phone onto the bed and used the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and wrangled my dark curls into a semi-presentable ponytail. When I came out, my phone was flashing.
It was Rob. What news???
I called him. “What are you doing up so early?” I asked the second he answered.
“Same reason you’re awake.”
It took me several seconds to work through it, but then everything clicked into place. Jennifer couldn’t access the video for one obvious reason: she was at my brother’s condo. Of course she was.
“You swore up and down that the two of you had decided to just be friends,” I said lightly, trying not to feel hurt that Rob was keeping things from me; it wasn’t like I didn’t have a metric ton of my own secrets.
“We are.”
I snorted.
“Believe what you will, but nothing happened. We were talking, and it’s a long drive to her place—”
“Platonic sleepovers, Rob? Really? I’ve seen Jennifer, and you’re not known for your restraint.”
“You wound me, lady,” Rob said, not sounding offended in the least. “What’s this about Massimo?”
For a moment I considered whether it would make sense to squeeze him for details, but even if he wanted to tell me the story, I doubted he’d do it with Jennifer in the vicinity. For all I knew, she was sitting right next to him.
“One second,” I said, trotting to the door to peer down the hall. “Anything change?” I called out.
“No,” Corbin yelled, and I retreated back into the bedroom.
“Don’t stress,” Rob said. “I’ll let you know if something happens.”
“Our family has become a security risk.”
“Nah,” Rob said dismissively. “This isn’t tippy-top secret, and in a few months it’ll be kicked over to a leak blog. Assuming nothing tragic happens.”
We both thought about that; at least, I did, and I knew how Rob’s mind worked. Rob cleared his throat. “Tell me about Massimo.”
“He’s back in the country.” I started picking through the closet while I caught him up on the details of the recording I’d heard. “I figure we can pressure Massimo and Neil individually and see what shakes loose.”
“Huh,” Rob said.
“What?”
“Well… If Neil says it’s not related to the case, maybe he’s telling the truth.”
“Or maybe it is, but he’s more concerned with saving his own ass,” I said.
“You’re cynical.”
“You’re naïve, and Neil’s manipulative. I mean, I like him, but he is.”
“Let’s make a bet,” Rob said.
I’d been idly flipping through nice dresses and blouses, the majority of which had been presents from Corbin. Turning toward the more casual section of the closet, I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of jeans at random. “Nah. No bets,” I said, tossing the clothes onto the bed. “We’re both broke.”
“We can bet… food. If I win, Corbin makes dinner for the four of us. If you win, I cook dinner.”
“That’s punishment for me either way,” I said. I wasn’t joking. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were the pinnacle of my brother’s culinary abilities. I could hardly fault him for it; I was the same way.
“Incorrect,” Rob said. “Your lack of faith is shocking. I almost want to lose just to watch you eat your words.”
“Hey, at least my words would be edible,” I said. “But let me think about it.” Corbin wouldn’t mind making dinner; left to his own devices, he would have cooked a six-course meal every night. “If Massimo and Neil’s secret turns out to be a valid lead, I would win, right?”
“Yup. And if it’s nothing, then I would win.”
“You realize I heard the audio. I have intimate knowledge of the situation, and it sounded to me like Neil is full of shit.”
“Sis, you may be right. But let me share a little wisdom from a guy named Alexander Pope.”
The name was familiar, and I wracked my brain. “Who?” I asked, giving up.
“All seem infected that the infected spy, as all is yellow to a jaundiced eye,” Rob said. “Your eyes are more yellow than green.”
First boasting about his nonexistent cooking prowess, and now quoting poetry? Rob was showing off for Jennifer. “I’ll leave you to your platonic sleepover.” I hung up.
Instead of getting dressed, I rejoined Corbin.
To my surprise, a grainy image now occupied the left half of the large TV screen. A bit of light came in around the right half of the picture, and I realized it was a full-sized image that was partially blocked.
The unblocked part wasn’t very clear, though. I could see a building, some windows, but even that was a guess. It could have been a truck, a wall…
“Is that where she is?” I asked.
Corbin nodded. “It came through a few minutes ago, but it’s not very helpful.”
“What are they using?” Because even a crappy cell phone would have captured a better image than what I was looking at.
“The camera is the size of a pinhead,” Corbin said. “The model I assume they’re using doesn’t do well under bright conditions. Right now they’re waiting for night.”
I went into the kitchen and rinsed off some grapes, dropped them into a bowl and carried it back out to the living room. When I sat, this time I made myself comfortable, leaning against the back of the sofa and pulling my legs in.
Somehow, knowing that Rob was in his condo watching the same video feed made me feel better. Whatever happened, he’d know. I wouldn’t have to hide or explain it.
When I’d first started seeing Corbin, I’d kept him a secret from Rob. Finally sharing the truth about the relationship had felt like shucking the weight of the universe off of my shoulders.
Since then I’d amassed a few new secrets. I didn’t like having them—but sometimes the nature of Corbin’s life meant I had to keep my mouth shut.
What Corbin had been doing in his office didn’t count toward that, though, because what I’d overheard was most certainly a leisure activity. Didn’t we have enough crap to juggle?
I shoved a few grapes into my mouth. They were plump and cool, and I crunched each miniature globe between my teeth. Little acts of destruction, but
they made me feel better.
Conversation floated through the speakers. I looked at Corbin, not because I expected a translation but because I wondered if maybe I was being too hard on him.
He was resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed intently on a nondescript section of coffee table.
Maybe he needed to keep whatever he was doing in his office a secret. Maybe watching movie clips or whatever it was I’d overheard was his way of dealing with all the stress and uncertainty that had been shoved upon him since the end of August.
Still, if it was innocent, why couldn’t he just say that?
If he needed private time away from me, I understood. I needed space, too. Look how I’d freaked out about Corbin buying the Stroop Finders office building. Corbin hadn’t interpreted my discomfort as meaning that I loved him any less.
It was the secrecy that bothered me, the claiming to be working when I knew damn well he wasn’t.
And he was always so happy afterward. Lighthearted.
Lately I hadn’t been able to make him that cheerful, not even after sex.
The grapes turned bitter in my mouth, and I almost spit them out. I forced myself to swallow them in one acrid lump.
So… ok, it was something that cheered him up. And he didn’t want me to know he was doing it. And it wasn’t porn.
And… I needed to let it go. Especially now. Wasn’t it bad enough that the other Audrey was barreling back into Corbin’s life?
“I’m going to get more grapes,” Corbin said, taking the bowl and standing.
“Let me. I won’t know if they say something important.”
“I’m recording it,” he said. “Think I’ll make coffee. It’s safe to say I’m not going back to bed tonight. Do you want anything else?”
I shook my head, and he walked away.
How could he stay so calm, like we were watching a sports game? I wondered if it was because I was there and he felt obligated to put up a front. If otherwise he would have been… maybe not a nervous wreck. I couldn’t imagine that. But anxious.
He had to be, and keeping his emotions bottled up wasn’t healthy.
Chewing on a ragged fingernail, I got up and headed into the kitchen.
Protected by a Dangerous Man Page 4
