“Mia, please book Leah on the next flight to D.C. and text me the details.”
She gave a short nod. “Hold on a sec, Boss.” She spun around in the reception chair and opened the desk drawer to pull out a sleek, black iPhone. Ian dug into his pocket and exchanged his burner for it. Mia opened the used flip phone and snapped it in half.
Ian turned the new phone over in his hand. “Is it secure?”
“Yup. I’ve pre-programmed the staff numbers into it and installed some of my own software. No one will be able hack you or track you without me knowing about it.”
Ian headed back to his office, thinking of how well Leah had withstood the pressure in the conference room. She’d done her best to answer all their questions no matter how much it had embarrassed her. What she needed was food, a hot shower, and sleep.
Unbidden, an image of Leah damp from the shower and climbing naked into his bed flashed in his mind’s eye.
For fuck’s sake. He needed her on a plane, ASAP.
He stopped and poked his head through Erik’s door. Svein was seated behind Erik’s desk, slouched in the leather chair and looking down at his phone with a goofy grin on his face.
“Elin?”
Svein glanced up and shook his head. “She sent a video of Annelise shaking her finger at the dog and telling her no.”
Ian crossed the office and looked over Svein’s shoulder as he replayed the video of his three-year-old daughter very firmly telling their new golden doodle puppy what not to do. “She’s adorable. With those curls she looks just like you,” Ian teased. Svein was in fact nearly bald.
Svein snorted. “She’s a bossy little thing. Gets it from her mama.”
Although Svein made fun, Ian knew he loved his wife and two children more than life itself and would do absolutely anything for them.
Svein hit the home button on his phone and the smile faded from his face. “What’s the plan?”
Ian filled him in on what Mia and Anders had discovered. As he spoke, his phone vibrated and he read the text message from Mia. She’d managed to snag Leah a seat on an eight o’clock flight to D.C. with layovers in London and Dallas.
“I feel bad for her,” Svein said on a sigh when Ian explained the plan. “I was rough on her, but she seems like a nice girl. It’s a shame Sokolov treated her like shit.”
“She’s resilient,” Ian said.
He wasn’t about to mention that he was helping her move on.
Chapter 20
Erik scowled at the blank computer screen on his nightstand. He would have given his little pinky toe to be on the hunt for Sokolov instead of lying in bed like a teenager on Saturday morning. This was his second week confined to bed rest, and if Erik had to stay supine for one more day he was afraid he’d tear his hair out.
His aunt, who was more of a mother than his own had ever been, had left two days earlier after plying him with soup, prayers, and a steady stream of hints about marriage and how he wasn’t getting any younger.
Erik had put her off by promising that he was dating, and in fact, there was a woman he dated occasionally. It was more of a friends-with-benefits situation, but he didn’t think his aunt needed to hear all the details. The truth was that he hadn’t dropped the iron casing around his heart since he’d kissed the most gorgeous woman alive three years ago only to discover she was a spy for the United States—a little detail he hadn’t figured out until after she’d stolen his classified information and left him tied in an Afghani desert.
Erik ground his teeth together at the memory. Allie had been responsible for his only failed civilian mission, and even though it had been years, he still hadn’t forgiven her. Wasn’t sure he ever would.
So for now he dated around, always remaining good friends with the women he slept with, and if he woke in the middle of the night sweating after a dream involving the Latina spy from his past, he chalked it up to PTSD.
Erik looked again at his laptop, sitting open and blank-faced on his nightstand. He thought about checking in with Anders, but the man only had so much patience and Erik had tested it enough lately.
He hadn’t been surprised to hear about Ian’s past involving Sokolov. Although he hadn’t known the details, he’d been well aware of Ian’s legend status in the FSK—and it hadn’t been because he could track a man to ground. The Shazada rescue explained it, putting one secret between them to rest. They may have been partners, but that didn’t mean they stayed up at night drinking aquavit together and spilling their guts. They were military men. They’d both done and seen things no one wanted to remember, much less talk about. They respected the silence of each other’s pasts, and when ghosts came a-haunting, they dealt with it together.
This was one hell of a ghost.
Erik rubbed his hand over his chin, three days worth of dark stubble scratching his palm. He was concerned about the woman’s role in the whole affair, and despite reassurances, he still wasn’t sure he trusted her. He did give her credit for withstanding the grueling interview and answering every question as clearly and honestly as she could. They hadn’t been easy questions, and they’d been deeply personal at times. She could have walked out at any point, but she’d stayed and done what she could to atone for her part in the kidnapping attempt. That was more than most in her position would have done.
So maybe what really nagged at him was how Ian had looked at the spitfire paralegal. It wasn’t like he’d openly ogled her—his partner knew how to conceal his emotions far better than that, but Erik could read Ian better than anyone. He’d seen something in his friend’s eyes that went beyond lust. Ian had seemed almost enthralled by the woman, as if there were something unique about her that eternally fascinated him. When he’d nudged her head down during her panic attack he’d been a hell of a lot more tender than Erik would have been with the person who almost got him killed—even unintentionally.
Although Ian had been casual and relaxed during the meeting, he’d given off a protective vibe that had let anyone with half an instinct in his body know Leah was off limits. Dag and Anders had certainly noticed.
Erik had never seen Ian take an open interest in a woman. He knew his partner dated around, but never once had Ian introduced him to any of the women he slept with. He’d certainly never seen Ian mix work with pleasure, and that was what worried him the most.
Sokolov wanted Ian dead, which meant Ian had to be on top of his game. He couldn’t afford a distraction with messy bangs and big hazel eyes. Erik knew Ian was more than capable of taking care of himself, but what if he were caught off guard because he’d finally met a woman who knocked him off his axis?
Erik reached for his phone and then immediately dropped it on the covers, grunting in frustration. What was he going to do? Call the office and warn Ian not to fall in love with Leah because it might throw him off his game? Ian would coldly tell him it was none of his business and proceed to ignore him. It was what Erik would do, anyway.
Groaning, Erik slid down the pillow until he was flat on his back looking at the whirling ceiling fan overhead. The hard truth was there was nothing he could do about any of this. He couldn’t hunt Sokolov and he couldn’t keep his friend safe. All he could do was lay there uselessly and pray to God Ian knew what he was doing.
Chapter 21
While Ian took care of whatever situation had required his attention, Leah used the time alone to compose herself. The first thing she did was return to the bathroom where she splashed water on her face.
Well, the worst was over. She’d traveled halfway around the world to help a Russian terrorist attempt murder, nearly drowned, made it through several hours of interrogation, and been pushed against the wall and kissed like her man was going into space.
The moment she thought of the kiss some of her exhaustion faded under a resurgence of heat. Ian had been professional and emotionally distant in the conference room, but she’d felt strangely protected by his presence, as if somehow the kiss had linked them for a short time.
&nbs
p; And holy hell, had that kiss been amazing. She couldn’t remember ever having been touched with such skill. And if he was that good with his tongue during a kiss . . .
From the moment she and Ian had met there had been undeniable energy buzzing between them. If she stayed in Norway for a few days she had no doubt they would have a blazing, mind-blowing affair, but that was all it could be. There was nowhere for this thing between them to go. An international affair stamped with an expiration date was the last thing she needed in her life.
What she did need was a real vacation so that she could:
1. Recuperate from her ex-boyfriend nearly getting her killed.
2. Take a good hard look at her life.
She was twenty-eight years old and her occupation was doormat. She loved working in the legal system, but to be so busy that she was blind to dating a terrorist? Something had to change. She’d been kicked out of law school six years ago, so what? It was time she stopped accepting her failures and settling for what life dished out. If she wanted to change, then she needed to fight for what she really wanted.
Leah wiped the remnants of eyeliner from beneath her eyes and straightened in front of the mirror. No more doom and gloom. Even though she and Ian had no future together, he’d been good for her. He’d reminded her that there had to be more to a relationship than convenience: a relationship had to have passion. Maybe that would be her new life motto: Live Passionately.
She exited the bathroom and wandered around his office. The glass-topped desk was painfully organized and sparsely populated. The walls were similarly bare except for a few black-framed photos of a couple and three kids. When Leah studied the couple she noted the resemblance between the woman and Ian, mostly in the deep, sea-blue color of her eyes. She must be his sister, she thought. She poked around a bit more, but other than the photos of his sister and the clothing in the cabinet in the bathroom, there were very few personal effects in his office. Ian Haugen was a private man.
Leah was standing at the large picture window when the door opened and Ian stepped inside. She turned around, and as soon as their eyes met the air crackled with tension. Ian must have felt it too, because he took a careful step backwards. “You have a flight at eight,” he said.
Her eyes dropped to her watch. It was six-thirty. Although the airport wasn’t far from the office, it didn’t give her a lot of time to get her boarding pass and move through security.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll grab something to eat on the way.”
At the mention of food her stomach growled. She nodded eagerly and walked toward him. At the door he was careful to avoid contact with her as she passed by, and she bit back a smile. It was going to be an interesting car ride.
Chapter 22
Ian stopped at a take-out place called Tunco that served a healthier version of Chinese food. Leah’s carton of noodles came loaded with fresh vegetables, and she slurped down every last noodle as Ian steered the truck onto the highway. He’d ordered his vegetables wrapped in lettuce leaves so he could eat one-handed while he drove. She was afraid he was one of those healthy people who ate kale and quinoa because he genuinely liked them. Even so, lettuce wrapped vegetables was a bit much for her. Leah couldn’t imagine going without her three Cs: carbs, caffeine, and chocolate.
When she finished eating she downed the iced coffee she’d ordered and felt pleasantly sated. The lingering sun warmed the cab of the truck, and the vibration of the engine soothed her into a relaxed slump. She was so tired that within moments of hitting the highway her eyelids began to flutter. She was thirty seconds from passing out cold when Ian spoke. “I’ll give you my email and phone number. If you think of anything you forgot, call me.”
She turned her face to him but kept her cheek pressed against the headrest as she yawned. “Mmkay.”
“Make sure you remain alert until Sokolov is caught. He’s still at large, and we don’t know why he’s been in the U.S. these past years, who he’s working for, or why he felt compelled to murder you overseas instead of at home.”
At the word murder Leah sat bolt upright, sleep forgotten. “I know he left me behind without caring that you might kill me, but you don’t think he brought me over here for that purpose, do you?”
Ian remained silent for so long she thought he might not answer. Finally he said, “I think there’s a purpose to everything he does. Do I think he brought you here for a nice little vacation with a side of revenge? No. He never intended for you to live. After he got off torturing and killing me, you were next.”
Something gray and sickly slithered down Leah’s spine. If he was right, she’d escaped death by the mere fortune of Ian being stronger and faster than Vincente. “You’ll catch him?” Even she could hear the desperation in her voice.
When Ian’s gaze met hers it was flat and cold. “I will.”
She believed him.
They rode the last ten minutes in silence. At last she spotted signs with little plane diagrams and knew they were close. Minutes later Ian steered the truck into short-term parking, nosed the pickup into a slot, and turned off the ignition.
Leah brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “You don’t have to park. You can drop me off out front.”
“No.”
Well then.
She opened the door and hopped out of the cab. How awkward was this goodbye going to be? Did she give him a hug? A handshake? A slap on the back? Should she turn and walk away as if he hadn’t had his tongue in her mouth earlier?
She was considering her options while Ian rounded the truck bed to lift out her luggage. Suddenly he stilled, his hand on the tailgate latch. He lifted his head like a dog that had scented something in the air, and those sea-blue eyes of his sharpened. He scanned the parking lot. The creepy crawly sensation of being watched prickled over the back of Leah’s neck and she looked around too.
The sun had begun its slow summer descent, leeching color from the parking lot and buildings until they stood in grayscale. A warm breeze rippled over the olive silk of her blouse, and the whine of an approaching airplane engine grew louder overhead. Several slots over from them an elderly gentleman helped his wife out of their hybrid. Closer to the airport entrance she spotted a mother herding two small children to a car. She was dragging a Mickey Mouse carry-on behind her and appeared utterly exhausted while the children fairly vibrated with energy. Nothing seemed out of order in the few moments it took Leah to assess their surroundings.
“Get in the truck,” Ian barked. He started toward her, his stride urgent.
Leah’s heart leapt into her throat and she spun to climb back into the vehicle. The motion caused her sunglasses to slide off the top of her head and clatter to the pavement. Automatically she bent to snatch them off the ground, and just as she did there was a thunderous crack and glass exploded, raining on her head in a tinkle of shards. She heard a scream and was pretty sure it wasn’t hers because every part of her felt paralyzed, including her vocal cords.
Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, Ian tackled her to the ground, crushing her with his weight. There was another blast and chunks of pavement flew into the air, pebbles spraying into the flesh of her arm with the bite of birdshot.
“Get under the truck!” Ian shouted. He rolled off her and shoved her forward. “Crawl to the other side.”
Leah army crawled underneath the truck, her blood pounding in her ears. The pavement left friction burns across her forearms but she barely felt the sting. Ian was right beside her, and then he was through and crouching on the other side of the truck. He hauled her to her feet and wrenched open the rear cab door just as another explosion rocked the truck and shattered the entire driver’s side window.
It was then that Leah realized she wasn’t hearing explosions; someone was shooting at them.
She vaguely registered the screaming in the background, the two kids howling at the tops of their lungs. Sirens wailed in the distance, rapidly growing louder. She and Ian were hunkered beside the tru
ck, her cheek plastered to the black paint as she tensed for another shot. None came.
After thirty seconds of silence had cleared, Ian pushed her head forward with his hand and said, “Get in. Stay low.”
Knees shaking, Leah squeezed into the sliver of space behind the fully extended driver’s seat and prayed she wasn’t making a nice bobble-head target of herself. The door slammed shut behind her and Ian took the wheel. Within seconds they were peeling out of the parking lot at a speed that sent her sliding across the rear bench seat.
“What about the police?” she shouted.
Ian didn’t answer because his phone was ringing. The Bluetooth in the truck picked up and Anders’ voice boomed through the speakers. “The police scanners are lighting up. Shots fired at Oslo Airport. Tell me that’s not you, man.”
Ian snarled something in Norwegian that sounded like a string of curses. Then in English he said, “Have Svein to pick up the PI now. Pull Dag off the Lilly case and tell him to get his ass to the airport before the police figure out what the hell is going on. I need him to scour the northeast roof of the international terminal that overlooks short-term parking. He’ll be looking for shells, scuffmarks, anything at all that will help us find Sokolov. Mia, you there?”
“I’m here.”
“Pull up CCTV footage of the airport and the roads leading into it and find out what that jackass is driving.”
“Roger that. I’m tracking your cell phone north. Where are you heading?”
“I’m getting Leah out of here.”
“Leah?” Anders interrupted. “You don’t think . . . ”
Finding Lies Page 11
