Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Durango

"I don't understand why we are moving. Why can't you just let us go?" Nancy asks as we lead them into the new house.

It's not as nice as the one we just came from. The carpet is worn in several spots, and the furniture has scratches all over it. Whoever lived here prior must have had pets. But on the plus side, it's hidden from the road. Moose walks past me to sit on one of the bar stools that's pulled up to the counter. He's limping a little more than before, so I make a note to check on his wound the first chance we get.

"Your lives are at risk, and until we find who killed Damien or determine they aren't coming after you, we are going to keep you safe," I say.

Nancy's hands go to her hips. "What is this, some kind of caveman thing? You Americans are so bossy. We don't have to stay here. Sylvia, let's go."

Nancy walks toward the door and turns around. Sylvia hasn't moved from her perch on a bar stool.

"I think we should stay. For now," she says.

"Why?" Nancy whines.

Sylvia slides off the stool and motions to the window. "Because it's nighttime, and we are in the middle of nowhere. Where are we going to go?"

"We will wait until morning, but then we go," Nancy says.

I glance at Moose, and he's frowning, likely wondering the same thing I am. Why would Nancy want to leave if her life might be in danger? Unless she's the one behind the danger.

Nancy walks to the refrigerator and opens it up. "It's empty."

"You just ate," Moose says.

Nancy shrugs as she closes it. "I'm still hungry."

I step into the kitchen so I can watch Nancy when she answers my question. "How exactly did you get to the field where you found us?" I ask.

Nancy crosses her arms. "You saw me. I drove."

Moose is watching her closely now, too.

"Where did you come from?" I ask.

She has an accent, but I can't pinpoint where it's from. It's not English or Russian.

Nancy pushes past me and opens the cupboards, all of which appear empty. "I live in Minsk. I met Sylvia and Damien last year when they were in town."

Moose leans against the counter. "How often did you see them?"

"When Damien came to town, we'd have dinner."

Moose arches a brow. "Just the two of you?"

Sylvia steps into the kitchen.

"Yes, just the two of us. We had work to discuss," Nancy says.

Sylvia visibly stiffens. I wonder if she knew her husband was spending time alone with Nancy.

"And Sylvia, how did you get your husband's phone? Didn't he have it on him when he was kidnapped?" Moose asks.

Damn, he's direct. But it's a good question.

Sylvia turns to face Moose. "He gave it to me to hold, along with his wedding ring. He was meeting someone and was concerned it might go badly. That's why I followed him. And was able to share his location with your team."

She must mean Harding.

"Who did you contact?" Moose asks.

She throws her hands up. "I don't know. It was a number Damien had given me. He said if anything went wrong, I needed to call it."

"What did your husband do for a living?" I ask.

"He was a dealer of ancient artifacts. It shocks me that people would kill to get their hands on some old clay pot from centuries ago, but Damien warned me that there was a criminal side to the business that could try to come after him."

"Ancient artifacts?" I repeat.

She turns her gaze to mine. "Yes. Damien loved history and knew all about them. I found the topic dreadfully boring."

"I didn't," Nancy says. "I find it fascinating how people lived thousands of years ago."

Sylvia glares at Nancy. I'm not sure why Nancy is trying to irritate Sylvia, but I need to put a stop to it now.

"There are two bedrooms. Why don't you two each take one and try to get some rest? We'll stay here and keep a lookout," I say.

"Sounds good to me," Sylvia says and stalks off toward the rooms.

Nancy yawns. "The sooner I go to sleep, the sooner I can wake and leave."

Once they are both out of earshot, I turn to Moose, who is shaking his head.

"What do you think? Nancy and Damien were having an affair?" he asks.

"Not sure. If he and Nancy were discussing work, whatever that may be, she might be more involved in all of this than we realize. And she did find us in the middle of nowhere just before Damien was shot."

He nods. "Think she brought the sniper who was on the ridge?"

"It's possible."

The whole situation with a possible sniper still bothers me. Why would he have been on that ridge? He wouldn't have had a view of where we were sleeping. How would he know we'd head that way?

Moose grunts as he takes a step.

"Hey, let me take a look at your stitches. You're probably due for a new bandage."

He sits on a stool. "Sounds good. It's hurting more than earlier."

I find a first aid kit in the bathroom and bring it out. I remove the old bandage, and his stitches are more inflamed than I recall them being before. Fortunately, there is some antibiotic cream in the kit, and I slather that on and apply a new bandage. He winces as I work.

"We need to leave here soon so you can get this looked at," I say as I dig around in the kit. There are a few packets of ibuprofen, so I hand him one.

"Thanks," he says.

We take turns getting sleep while the other one keeps guard. Just after four in the morning, a car pulls up, and three people get out. Immediately, I recognize one of the people is Harding. Rover and Davis follow her. I open the door, and they shuffle into the kitchen.

"No one came to the house," Harding says.

"That's great news," I say.

Rover yawns. "Yes, except now we're all exhausted."

"Rover, you and Davis should try to get some sleep. There are some blankets in the loft." Harding points to a ladder that leads to a small room overheard.

"Sounds good," Rover says and is halfway up before Davis even moves.

"What about you?" she asks Harding.

"Well, now that we know we can trust the agency, we should plan to hand off the two we are holding. Then we can return to the States," she says.

Davis nods. "Sounds good."

Harding walks out of the room with her phone to her ear.

"Will you be in charge of finding Damien's killer?" I ask Davis.

"Not likely. I'll probably be sent out on another assignment. Maybe we'll work together again someday."

I nod.

"I'm going to get some sleep." She heads up the ladder.

A moment later, Harding walks back toward me.

"It's all set. We are to meet another team in Minsk at four this afternoon local time. After a debriefing and handoff, we will be free to leave."

That's great news. Now, we just have to figure out how to keep either Nancy or Sylvia from leaving before we hand them over.

"What's wrong?" Harding asks. "And don't say nothing. I can see it on your face."

"Nancy said she's leaving as soon as she wakes up. She asked Sylvia to go with her, but I'm not sure why. After hearing Nancy talk, it sounds like she might have had something going on with Damien."

Harding frowns. "Like what?"

"Either business or an affair. We aren't sure."

She yawns. "Well, both could provide a motive, I guess. So, we make sure she doesn't leave. Should be fun. How long have you been up?"

"I slept the first shift for about six hours. I've been up for two."

She nods and yawns again.

"Go sleep. I'm fine."

"Okay, I'll take the couch. Thanks."

While she goes to the living room, I head to the back door and sit next to it. Through a window, I watch as the sun comes up. Well, as it comes up over the trees.

Harding was right; her boss isn't dirty. This would have been his chance to take out Sylvia.

Davis hasn't tried to do anything suspicious, either, that I can see. Nor Moose. No, my money is on Nancy. But is she working for Stanvich, too? Or does she have another motive?

"Good morning," Nancy says as she walks into the kitchen. "I don't suppose this place has coffee?"

"No coffee. No food, either," I say.

She leans against the counter. "I need to leave. I have an assignment I must get back for."

She's talking about work. This is good.

"Oh yeah? What kind of assignment?"

She stares at me. "A professor at the university claims he has an old artifact he found. He wants me to verify its authenticity."

According to the briefing by Harding on the plane ride over, Damien had no history in artifacts. He was known for brokering weapons deals. He was trusted because of his former military experience in Romania. Apparently, he was considered an expert in his field.

He was someone our government kept an eye on but had not interfered with, instead pursuing those higher up that chain. Nancy likely lied about working with Damien on artifacts, which means she is lying to me about her assignment.

"I can come with you," I offer.

Her eyes widen. "No, I'm afraid you would scare the professor."

I laugh. "How would I do that?"

She smiles. "Because he would think you were there to steal his find. Some artifacts can be worth millions."

"Did you ever try to sell an artifact for Damien?" I hope my quick change of subject might catch her off guard.

"I did."

"Is that why he owed you money?"

She laughs. "Something like that." She pushes off the counter. "Well, it's light enough out there. I'm going to head out."

Dammit. I don't want to cause a scene and wake everyone up, but we can't let her leave. She walks toward the front door, and I follow. But Harding is up and grabs her left hand. Harding spins her around and pushes her against the wall. In seconds, Harding pulls a wire tie from her pocket and has Nancy's hands bound.

"What the hell is going on? Am I a prisoner?" Nancy asks.

"No, you're in protective custody," Harding says. She turns her around, and Nancy glares at her.

"I don't need protection."

"Why? Because you're the one who killed Damien?" Harding asks.

Nancy frowns. "What? No! I would never kill him. I loved him."

"So, you two were having an affair," I say.

She turns her gaze to mine. "It was more than an affair. He was going to leave Sylvia."

"That's what men say, but trust me, they don't leave their wives," Harding says.

Nancy's eyes well with tears. "He meant it. I'm pregnant. He was so happy when he found out because Sylvia can't have children."

Well, this is a new development. But Damien is an arms dealer. He wouldn't want a family, would he? Nancy might be lying.

"Well, we'll get a pregnancy test so we can verify your claim," Harding says. "For now, you'll sit in a kitchen chair quietly."

Harding leads Nancy to the kitchen and uses another wire tie to hook her to the chair. She then pulls me aside.

"I'm going back to sleep. Good luck."

I take a seat opposite Nancy at the kitchen table. She's not showing, so if she is pregnant, it's early. "Are you really pregnant with Damien's baby?"

"I am."

"You bitch!" Sylvia says as she rushes Nancy and slams her and the chair to the floor.

How the hell did I not hear Sylvia walking up? I'm up and pulling Sylvia off Nancy. Harding is there again.

"Dammit, I just want a nap. Put her in that chair," she instructs.

I sit Sylvia down in another chair, and Harding uses a wire tie to clasp her wrists together and attach it to the back of the chair. As she does this, I get Nancy back upright.

"Now, both of you shut up," Harding says as she walks away.

Both women sit in silence, and I return my gaze to the window. The sun is up, and I keep my eyes on the driveway. A moment later, I hear a sniffle.

I turn to spot tears running down Sylvia's cheeks. To find out your husband was having an affair and got someone else pregnant under any circumstances wouldn't be good. But here, where she's trapped with the woman? And right after her husband died? It has to be hard.

She takes a deep breath and seems to gain control of her emotions. Nancy, fortunately, remains quiet and stares at the floor. I just have to keep them quiet for another four to six hours as the others catch up on their sleep.

Miraculously, Sylvia and Nancy stayed quiet. Once everyone was up, we left and grabbed food. I ended up feeding Nancy. Moose fed Sylvia because they still had their hands tied behind their backs.

Due to Nancy's nonstop complaining, Harding was able to get the handoff moved up, and by noon, we were debriefed and free to return to the United States. Harding called in a favor and got us a private flight to New York.

"I'll be very happy if I never have to deal with someone like Nancy again," Harding says. "I didn't sign up for babysitting. Between this and the job in Istanbul, I'm starting to wonder if my boss is mad at me."

"What happened in Istanbul?" Moose asks.

Harding shakes her head. "Long story, but we had to babysit a rich, entitled college kid until we got him back to safety." She stands up and walks down the aisle. "I'm calling dibs on the bed in the back. See you in a few."

I don't need a bed to sleep. It's a long flight, so I lay down across the seats. I can't wait to get back and see Willow. We've waited a long time to finally have a normal date, and I'm looking forward to it.