RELENTLESS

by Christy Reece

  Wanting Jules’s take, he sent her a subtle, questioning look. She nodded, telling him she thought he should proceed.

  “There’s more.”

  “More?” Aubrey asked.

  “Lawrence Medford.”

  “What about Lawrence?”

  “His death wasn’t an accident.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Time for bluntness. “He was murdered.”

  If she had been pale before, she was almost translucent now. He’d had his own experience with hearing bad news. Best thing to do was get it out as quickly as possible to begin processing.

  “We’ve obtained video feed of someone going into Medford’s house and letting those snakes loose.”

  “Snakes? I thought there was just one.”

  “There were at least four, maybe more.”

  She stared into space several seconds. Ash waited her out. Shock was like that. While your mind was numb, every reasonable explanation came knocking at you, trying to change your mind about the truth. Eventually, you allowed them in, but first you had to deal.

  “I don’t understand. Why would anyone want to kill Lawrence? That’s just…” Her eyes widened, and her head shook in rapid jerks of denial. “You think he was murdered because he was going to produce and fund my film?”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s ludicrous. Taking him out of the picture only delayed me. It didn’t stop the project. If someone wants to stop the film, why not just kill me?”

  “We don’t know the answer to that.”

  “Then isn’t it possible he was killed because he angered someone completely unrelated to my film? Medford wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. I’m sure he had his share of enemies.”

  “That’s true and we’re checking into those. But Medford being murdered the day before you were scheduled to meet with him for a second time about your film seems too coincidental. Add that to the bugs and cameras in your home…” He trailed off, allowing her to absorb his inference.

  She blew out a shaky sigh. “All right, I agree those things do seem odd, but odd coincidences happen all the time.”

  Ash saw no other way than to lay it on the table. “I’ve been at this a long time, Aubrey. My gut is telling me you’ve found something, maybe something you don’t even know you’ve found. But there is someone who’s willing to do whatever it takes to stop you. We need to identify him and find a way to stop him before he does something more.”

  “Ferante. Marc Antony Ferante.”

  Surprised at not only the name but the ease with which Aubrey had shared the information, Ash said carefully, “Why do you think it’s Ferante?”

  “A few years back, a young girl was kidnapped. She was trafficked all over the world. When she was finally rescued, she had blocked out most of her memories of her time in captivity. Most of the things she remembered were vague bits of information that didn’t help the authorities. She remembered being called No. 7, blue water like the ocean, and very tall trees. None of that information helped to narrow down who took her or where she’d been. However, she has a recurring nightmare that both her parents and her therapists have dismissed as symbolism. I disagree.”

  “What was it?” Jules asked.

  As Aubrey relayed the information about the eagle and her efforts to hunt down that image, Ash couldn’t help but be impressed. She was a thorough researcher. He was also concerned. Ferante was an extremely powerful adversary. If he knew she was on to him—and it was looking as though he did—then she was in extreme danger.

  “If Ferante is behind this, how do you think he found out about you?” Ash asked.

  “I don’t know, unless someone has been watching me all along. I would imagine my research has made more than a few people nervous.”

  “And there could be alarms set up,” Jules added. “If you searched a site linked to Ferante, an alert might have been sounded. It’s easy enough to trace the IP back to the searcher.”

  Aubrey nodded. “I’m careful about how I search, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have safeguards I haven’t considered.”

  “What about the young victim who was rescued? Is it possible he’s had her watched?”

  “Her family changed their names, moved across the country. They’ve taken every precaution.”

  “What are you planning to do with this information?”

  “I hadn’t gotten that far. I just zeroed in on Ferante a week or so ago, before I went to California. When I returned home yesterday, I realized someone had been in my house, but my research wasn’t found. Serena and Jazz showed up at my house today, and here I am.”

  “I know you’re here for a rescue ride-along, but would you be willing to work with our researchers on Ferante? Share what you have, if we do the same?”

  “I’m willing to do anything necessary to bring down any human trafficker, no matter who he or she is. And if he is responsible for Lawrence’s death, that’s even more incentive.”

  “Excellent.” Ash stood. “If you like, Jules will take you to your room. Come back in an hour, and I’ll have someone show you around OZ.”

  The relief on Aubrey’s face was telling. She needed time to herself, and he needed to do a couple more things before he allowed her access to OZ. Letting outsiders inside Option Zero wasn’t something he did lightly. He would never be stupid enough to put his people at risk of exposure without making absolutely sure the outsider could be trusted.

  He pressed a key on his phone for Serena. “What’s up, boss?”

  “How deeply have you dug into Aubrey Starr?”

  “I’ve done a level three.”

  Three was the same level of background check that government agencies conducted for their employees. It was the level OZ used for informants and off-site contractors.

  “Start a four. Let me know if anything pops up within the next half hour.”

  “That’s not a lot of time.”

  “No, but it’ll give us a deeper layer than we have now.”

  “We’ll get on it.”

  “Jules took her to one of the guest rooms. She’ll be back in an hour for a tour.”

  “I’ll see you then.”

  With anyone else he’d worry he hadn’t give her enough time, but Serena ran her research unit with utmost precision. The chances of her having everything, including Aubrey Starr’s favorite brand of toothpaste in half an hour were good.

  Jules walked back into his office, and his heartbeat did a skip. A normal thing when she appeared. Hard to believe how his life had changed in such a short period of time. She had brought sunshine when there had once been only darkness.

  Standing, he walked around his desk and held out his hand. “What do you think?”

  “I like her. Anyone who can make the films she makes is good in my book. But she’s more than just her talent. She cares.”

  “I agree. You think she’s trustworthy?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t think it was too soon to tell her of our suspicions about Medford?”

  “No. She’s strong. Strong women don’t want to be protected from the truth. She deserves to know everything.”

  “She’s had quite a few shocks in the last couple of days.”

  “True, but she’ll deal.”

  “Agreed.” Wrapping his arms around her, he asked, “When’s the last time I told you I love you?”

  She snuggled into his arms. “Oh, I think it was about six fifteen this morning, right after my morning hurling session.”

  He kissed her forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

  “Famished, of course.”

  “Then why don’t we go grab an early dinner?”

  “You don’t want to be here when Aubrey gets the tour?”

  “Serena and Jazz have this. She’ll feel more comfortable with them anyway.”

  “You don’t usually invite strangers here.”

  “I never invite strangers here.”

  “Then why Aubrey
Starr? Most secret organizations like OZ would see what she does for a living as a threat to their anonymity. You don’t. Why?”

  “Couple of reasons. Kate vetted her, and as we both know, Kate doesn’t vet many.”

  “No argument there. What else?”

  “She’s gone through something, some kind of trauma. My gut’s telling me she has personal experience with human trafficking.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  He told her about the scars that both Serena and Jazz had spotted when Aubrey’s towel had slipped after they’d arrived at her home. “Jazz said she saw a half dozen or more. She might have secrets but I don’t think they’re a threat to OZ.”

  “You think Medford’s death and the bugs in her house could be related to what she went through?”

  “Maybe. Who knows? She needs help, and that’s what she’s going to get.”

  Jules smiled up at him. “Now it’s my turn to ask when’s the last time I told you I love you?”

  He chuckled. “From what I recall, it wasn’t at six fifteen this morning.”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, probably not. Sorry. I think I might’ve called you a few bad names.”

  “You’re entitled.”

  “Well, now that I’m not wanting to throw you off a bridge, let me tell you that I adore you, Asher Drake. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

  His heart filled with love for this amazing woman, Ash covered her smiling mouth with his own. How he’d gotten so lucky he would never know. He was just grateful and humbled that he had.

  Pulling away, breathless, Jules beamed up at him. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a hankering for more than an early dinner.”

  Holding hands, they walked out the door together. Yeah, damn lucky.

  The instant the bedroom door shut behind Aubrey, she wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes. Was Lawrence Medford dead because of her? The awful thought drilled like a carpenter bee into her brain. What had she started?

  Pacing back and forth, Aubrey reviewed her actions. What could have tipped Ferante off that she was investigating him?

  She had been so careful. She had used incognito mode and a VPN for all her research. All searches had been scrubbed from her computer. No one could trace them back to her. She had told no one about her suspicions regarding Ferante, not even her team.

  As much as she wanted to deny the possibility, Asher Drake was right. Medford’s murder and the bugs and cameras found in her home were likely related.

  When she’d first begun filming documentaries, the idea that she could be putting herself in danger had been nebulous. She was one little filmmaker. No one would care what she had to say. All that had changed after her first film. Not only had it received critical acclaim, she had gotten attention from people who wanted her to shut up. She had received numerous threats, all anonymous. She had taken them seriously, even going to the police. Nothing had been found. The police file was still open, and she would occasionally send the detective a copy of a threatening email or social media post. Like so many things these days, people could make all sorts of anonymous comments and be confident their identity would never be found out. She had been told to get used to it.

  And so she had. But she’d still been cautious.

  Not cautious enough, apparently. And Lawrence Medford might have paid the price.

  Dropping onto the bed, Aubrey faced a harsh possibility. Should she scrap the film? The last thing she wanted was to put anyone in danger. Her films were made to save lives, not put them in jeopardy.

  She would hold off on making that decision. For now, she would take the opportunity that Asher Drake and his OZ organization were offering her. Participating in the rescue of trafficking victims had been a goal of hers for years. Seeing it firsthand would give her the insight she would never get just by talking to the victims or the rescuers. Even if she ended up scrapping the project, she desperately needed to witness this event.

  Wanting to get her mind off her sorrow, Aubrey unpacked her bags and then took a quick shower. Someone would be by soon to give her a tour, and since she didn’t want to make anyone wait, she rushed through the shower. As she hadn’t had the chance before she’d left home, she did take the time to wash her hair, though, as it still smelled of chlorine from this morning’s swim.

  Had that only been this morning? She felt as though she’d lived three lifetimes since then.

  As she stepped out of the stall, she realized she had not even taken the time to appreciate her accommodations. She could be staying in a luxury ski resort. From the claw-foot porcelain tub to the marble double vanity with its array of top-of-the line personal care products to the extra-large shower stall, everything was designed for the comfort and delight of the guest.

  Rubbing down her wet hair with a soft, fluffy towel, Aubrey returned to the bedroom and took in what she’d missed before. Hardwood the color of soft teak covered the floor. In the center was a queen-sized bed with a bedspread of muted green and pink. One wall was brick and stone with a gorgeous fireplace in the middle. Another wall was painted a light moss green. Between those two walls was a huge window with another breathtaking view. Two chairs had been placed before the window, a table between them. She could imagine waking up and sipping coffee while drinking in the beauty of the morning.

  Knowing she was running out of time, she blow-dried her hair and applied a minimal amount of make-up. A little blush, mascara, and lip gloss went miles in making a girl feel better. Grabbing a pair of jeans and an olive-green sweater from the drawer, she hurriedly pulled them on. As she dressed, her eyes kept darting to the window numerous times. Amazing what peace she could get from just those few glimpses of the view.

  The knock on her door came just as she finished dressing. She took one last glance back at the view and then straightened her shoulders.

  She opened the door to a smiling Serena. “Ready for your tour?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  A size-fourteen shoe zoomed toward his face. Liam pivoted, whirled, and came back with a double kick to his opponent’s sternum. The surprise on Sean Donavan’s face would have been comical if he’d had a chance to enjoy it. Donavan recovered in an instant and came back full force, socking Liam in the gut. Though he wore protective padding, the force of the blow knocked him on his ass. He was back on his feet in seconds, coming hard at Donavan.

  Muscles sang and adrenaline surged. This felt good. The first thing he’d enjoyed in months. He needed this to balance the frustration and fury bubbling inside him. Every single time he thought he was close to finding those victims in Colombia, they vanished. He wanted to find them. He needed to find Drury. So far, he’d come up empty on both.

  Time was running out. He felt it in his gut. Something was going to happen. What, he didn’t know. Death? Or were the victims going to be split up, and he’d be able to save only a few? What if one of them was Cat? He had to find them soon. Or else.

  A thump on his jaw had him flying back onto the mat again. A good reminder that he was sparring with one of the most gifted fighters he’d ever faced. Losing his focus was not a good idea.

  Jumping back to his feet, Liam went at his opponent even harder and faster. Donavan moved at the last second, and the uppercut to his jaw glanced off his chin, but the double punch to his belly took the man’s breath. Liam seized the opportunity to shut him down completely.

  With stealthy precision, Liam punched, jabbed, whirled, and kicked. Since this was a training session, he didn’t use full force. Still, he went for maximum enjoyment of getting the best of Sean Donavan. In hand-to-hand, no one at OZ was Donavan’s equal. For the first time ever, Liam knew he had him. The other man had no defense other than to keep his forearms up to protect himself.

  Feeling triumph, Liam was set up to send a final blow that would send his friend to the mat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone watching. For a millisecond, he looked. The thought flashed in his mind that s
he had changed little in the four years since he’d first seen her. Her skin still glowed with a translucent light that he found mesmerizing. Her wavy golden-blond hair might be a little longer. She—

  Liam flew backward as Donavan clipped him hard on the chin. Landing with a hard thud, flat on his back, he fought to catch his breath.

  It didn’t help that Donavan stood over him with a smug grin. “Thought you had me, didn’t you, mate?”

  Instead of answering, he shifted his eyes to the glassed area where he’d spotted Aubrey Starr. She was gone.

  * * *

  Guiltily, Aubrey turned away from the sparring session. She’d distracted the dark-haired man, and he’d gotten clocked. She’d been frozen in shock, as she’d recognized him as the man she’d met years ago in Kosovo. She hadn’t known the name of the organization that had rescued the trafficking victims. She had asked and was told they preferred to remain anonymous. Now she knew it had been Option Zero.

  And she would be going on a rescue mission with them. This was surreal.

  “Who was that?” Aubrey asked.

  “The one grinning like an idiot is my husband, Sean,” Serena answered with a laugh. “The one on the mat is Liam Stryker.”

  Liam.

  She mentally shook her head. This wasn’t the time or place to become enamored of someone.

  “Come on,” Serena said. “We’ll show you around for a few minutes and then let you have some time to yourself. You’ve had a long day.”

  Solitude sounded heavenly to her. The day had brought an enormous amount of shocks and surprises. She’d had hardly any time to absorb even one of them.

  Her unusual reaction to Liam Stryker was pushed to the back of her mind as she walked through the underground headquarters of Option Zero. She’d never heard of such an organization and couldn’t help but wonder how many such entities existed that the public would never know about.

  The place was massive. A maze of corridors led to rooms of varying sizes, some were empty, while others had chairs, conference tables, and desks.