Chapter 7

ABU DHABI, UAE

Great. Twerp was back, and he'd brought the man-eater with him.

Leaning against the kitchen counter the next morning, Davis took a long sip of coffee. Was it possible for the stuff to grow on you after two days? He eyed Leila and Twerp, following Hollyn into the open-concept living-room-kitchen area.

While Twerp had the decency to hang back by the couches, arms crossed, Leila made no effort to hide the thoughts running through her mind as she detoured in Davis's direction. "Morning, soldier."

Davis hoped the look on his face matched the disgust in his head. She was barking up the wrong tree. "What are you two doing back here?" He added a heavy layer of annoyance to his words.

Posted up at his side, tac vest on because they had somewhere to go today, Fury growled.

Only then did the vixen halt her advance.

"Davis," Hollyn said softly. Came up next to her friend.

"Tsk, tsk, soldier boy." Leila grinned wide. "I don't bite."

"That makes one of us."

"Promise?" She quirked an eyebrow.

Davis's frown deepened. True, she was beautiful—knew it too—but she was an IED waiting to go off the second a wrong move was made. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he slid it out. Checked the ID. The call he'd been waiting for. "I need to take this." He tapped his leg, and Fury heeled as they walked to the back door.

Why Hollyn was friends with that woman . . .

"Chapel." He answered the call when they stepped outside. A breeze swirled the scents of cypress and cardamom that infused the air around him.

Deciding he needed a little help, he'd texted a former Army buddy who ran private security and was currently in the area. Hadn't known if he'd get a response, but he needed someone to run things by and trusted the guy more than most.

"To what do I owe the need to talk text?" Chapel asked.

From his position, Davis kept an eye on Hollyn and her friends through the windows. "I've got a situation."

"You're in luck, then. Situations are what I do best. What's up?"

"Not over the phone." Davis roughed a hand down his neck. "Last I heard, team was in the Dhabi area. That still the case?"

"Might be."

"Able to meet in about an hour?"

"Sure do ask for some steep favors."

Davis chuckled. "Feel free to call them in at the most inconvenient time."

"Don't you worry about that." The line went silent for a minute. "All right, sure. Send me the location. I'll make it work."

They ended the call, and Davis shot off a text with coordinates for a place he'd picked out ahead of time. A place that couldn't be bugged if the conversation were being monitored. Which he doubted, but why take the chance?

Fury looked up at him expectantly. Pranced. Ready for action.

"Always could tell when we were about to head out." Davis grinned at the RMWD. "Let's go."

At the sound of the G-word, Fury barked and flung his solid body into heel position. They went back inside. The room fell suspiciously quiet as three sets of eyes swiveled to them.

"Everything okay?" Hollyn asked.

"Yeah. Gotta step out for a bit." The only reason he was even considering not taking her with him was that he knew she wouldn't come. He could drag her outside, but the neighbors would have the cops on him faster than he could say "get in." He still thought of Leila and Twerp as suspects, but he didn't have any evidence to support that. So—for now—he'd have to take a chance that Hollyn was right and he was wrong.

Still. It felt like gambling with the thing he cherished the most. He'd been dangerously close to giving in and kissing her the other day. But this wasn't the time for it. Not in the middle of grieving, when she might regret things later. He'd have to man up and make sure they didn't have another close call. Even if that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Davis glowered at Leila and the twerp. Prayed that if his suspicions were right, God would give him some kind of sign. All he got was silence. He didn't really think he'd get an answer after ignoring God for years, did he?

"Think you'll be okay?" he asked Hollyn.

"She's got us, doesn't she?" Twerp's chest almost visibly puffed up.

"Like I said," Davis stated.

Twerp's eyes narrowed. He got the message.

Hollyn looked between them.

Focus locked on the newcomers, Fury barked. Deep and loud.

"Holy." Twerp jumped in his seat. Swung an arm toward the RMWD. "Keep that animal under control."

Davis squared off. "If he wasn't under control, I'd be prying you from his jaws already."

Hollyn gave Davis a slight shake of her head. She wanted him to stand down?

Twerp's eyes widened.

Next to him Leila looked . . . impressed? "Better listen up, Archie."

Twerp scowled at the sultry woman.

"I'll be okay," Hollyn said.

"Good if I borrow a car?" He had no idea what was in the garage, but he stalked in that direction anyway. The sooner he left, the sooner he'd be back to keep an eye on Hollyn's friends.

Fury stuck close without being asked to.

"Of course. Take whichever one you want. Keys are in the lockbox to the left of the door. There's a thumbprint scanner. It'll work for you since you're in the system now. Where are you going?" she called after him.

But he was already slipping through the garage door with Fury. "Be back in a couple hours."

A row of four vehicles greeted him as the door closed, but one in particular caught his attention.

Cobalt blue Chevy Chevelle SS. A 1970, if he were to hazard a guess.

He found the corresponding key in the lockbox and let Fury in the backseat. Issued up a short prayer for forgiveness for letting the landshark on the pristine leather. At least the derp was clean. He'd dirtied up plenty of Humvees over his career.

Tapping the garage door opener hooked to the visor, he turned the ignition, and the muscle car roared to life. The engine vibration rumbled through his chest.

"Always did have great taste in cars, Ansel," Davis murmured with a smirk.

Half an hour later, they pulled up to their destination: a beach off of the north shore near the Al Khalidiyah district. Davis parked. Led Fury down the beach and took up position on a wooden bench. Waited for Chapel.

At his side, the RMWD lay in the sand. Head up. Eyes alert. Ready to take care of any trouble that came. A strong breeze ruffled his fur. Wearing his tac vest, the shepherd got more than a few wary looks from people out for a walk.

A few yards down, Chapel materialized from behind a group of passersby. Dressed in black tac pants and tee, the giant operator stood out from the crowd of people wearing long white kanduras. He slipped around the crowd toward Davis.

"Ledger."

"Chapel."

Chapel glanced down at Fury. Back to Davis. "New development? Didn't think he was out too."

"Med boarded and retired for aggressive behavior."

Chapel smirked. Spoke to Fury. "Hope you feel better soon, bud."

Davis shook his head. "Yeah, yeah."

"What's with all the smoke and mirrors?" Chapel sat on the bench.

"Had to be sure no one else had ears on this." Davis kept an eye out. "Heard anything on the dark web about a hit on someone named Ansel Reinhardt recently?"

Chapel thought. "There's been chatter. Why?"

"I'm staying with his daughter, and there was a break-in at her home as well as the lab she works at. Led me to believe her parents' deaths might not have been the accident everyone seems to think it was."

Arms folded, Chapel nodded. "That would track."

"I don't have the connections you do anymore. Thought you might be able to point me in the right direction."

Fury watched a woman walk by with a yappy little dog. Didn't even flinch when the mutt lost its mind. The woman apologized. Tugged the dog away as Davis and Chapel stared her down.

"We've got eyes on a few people," Chapel said. "We're working in cooperation with local authorities to bring down an arms dealer who has significant value to both sides. Only reason we've been allowed to operate in-country. And it's . . . possible your guy is involved. We'd need to compare notes."

"I have video of the break-in." Davis brought up the footage. Handed over the phone.

Chapel watched in silence as waves continued crashing onto the beach. He paused the footage. "Can't really see the guy's face, but looks to me like it's Braum Germaine. He's in deep with the group we're after. That the daughter he attacked?"

Davis nodded. Didn't have to see the video for the images to flash across his mind. When he found the guy . . .

Chapel pulled out his own phone. Tapped the screen a couple times. Held it up to the image that he had paused on Davis's phone.

Davis examined the two images.

"He was good at keeping his face away from the cameras," Chapel said. "Like he knew where they were."

"Noticed that too." Davis bobbed his leg. "Same with the furniture. First time I walked into the entry, I jammed my leg into the corner of that table. This guy sidestepped it like he'd been in the house more than once before."

Chapel smirked. "Maybe you're just not as agile as you once were. Retirement setting in hard?"

Davis fought the knee-jerk instinct to come up with a retort. Chest tightened. Heat flared up his neck. Getting kicked out wasn't retirement.

Easy, Ledger.

Chapel knew that. Was just giving him a hard time.

Fury watched him. Tilted his head.

Let it go.

Great. Now that stupid kid song Rafkin's daughter used to sing to her dad via webcam while they were deployed was going to be stuck in his head.

Chapel cleared his throat. Nodded to the photos. "The daughter didn't recognize anything familiar about this guy?"

"It was hard for her to watch. Given her parents' recent deaths, she's not in the best frame of mind. Didn't think she knew him."

"Ever hear her mention the name Germaine?"

"Not since I've been here. But it's only been a few days. I'll ask her about him."

Chapel nodded. "I'll dig deeper. See if I can find anything that connects Germaine to the family."

"Thanks, man." Davis shifted his stiff shoulder. Pain pulsed deep into the muscles. "Okay if you send me that photo? It might jog something for her."

Chapel airdropped it. "If she recognizes him, you've got trouble."

Had he expected anything else? Seemed par for the course these days. "That's about all I've got."

"Yeah. But you don't want him added to the mix." Chapel's warning was just the cherry on top of this dumpster fire of a week. "Germaine is serious business. We've been trying to make something stick to him for a while now so we could take him down. He's slippery, though, and if he kept Reinhardt alive, there's a reason for it. We know he has an affinity for running hits himself and doesn't leave loose ends. Has an unfortunate talent for getting his hands dirty, if you catch my drift."

"Copy."

Time to get back to the house. Back to Hollyn. He'd been gone too long.

They stood. Shook hands.

"Thanks for your help."

"Anytime." Chapel's gaze dropped to Fury. "Take care of him, bud."

Fury wagged his tail as the operator walked off.

On the way back to Hollyn's, Davis tried calling her. Rapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. The phone rang several times before her voicemail started. He hung up. Dropped the phone in his lap. Shifted down when traffic slowed. Something in his gut told him to call again. He'd learned long ago not to ignore that feeling.

When she didn't pick up the second time, the knot in his stomach twisted.

Davis clenched his teeth. Checked his rearview mirror. Fury's head obstructed half the view. "She might be in the middle of something."

Fury barked his reply.

Pulling onto another street, Davis sped up as GPS guided him. Tried Hollyn again. Left a message this time.

"Hol, it's me. Give me a call as soon as you get this."

He was less than five minutes from the house now. Gunned the engine and made it in two. The cherry-red sports car that'd been outside when he left wasn't there now.

Davis locked the Chevelle. Jogged up the front path with Fury instead of waiting for the garage door to open.

"Hollyn?" he called when he and Fury stalked through the entry.

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Empty.

* * *

"Oh my word! That's frightening!" Leila exclaimed after Hollyn had finished telling them both about how her parents' deaths might not have been an accident.

Davis was wrong about them, she could feel it in her bones. Not to mention the fact that the man who'd attacked her had been much larger than Archie. And it felt good to talk everything?—well, almost everything—out with her friends. Already, she was emotionally lighter than she'd been in days.

"You sure you're okay here? Alone with him?" Archie asked, protectiveness edging his voice. "You said yourself that he hasn't been in your life for years."

Hollyn didn't like what that implied about Davis's character. "Archie, really. You two have got to start getting along. And yes. I'm positive that I'm safe with him."

"What about Bongani? Could it have been him?" Leila postulated.

"Lei, no!" What in the world was happening? First Davis, now them with these unfounded hypotheses.

Hearing Bongani's name reminded her that she still hadn't reached out to him, though.

"What do you think the burglar was after?" Archie interjected. He shot a hard look at Leila.

"All I know is that it has something to do with my dad's work. But that could be any number of things. Even we"—she motioned between Archie and herself—"didn't know about everything he was in the middle of. I've been so busy with my AI project." She shrugged helplessly. Once again, she should have paid attention to someone besides herself.

"What can we do, Hollyn?" Leila asked. She reached out and grasped Hollyn's hand. "I know I'm no lab tech, but is there anything I can do to help you figure this out?" She sat up straight. Tucked her brunette hair behind her ears. "You know what? I can have Daddy's security team station people here."

See? Hollyn truly didn't deserve her friends. They were so kind to her at every turn. "It's okay, Lei. Really. Davis has things under control." She heard Archie mumble something under his breath but didn't catch what. "Plus, I've already bulked up the security protocols for the house system."

"But you just said that the guy somehow got in here without tripping the alarm." Leila looked horrified. "Even we don't have access to your place," she said, referring to herself and Archie. "That really worries me. How is it even possible to do that without fingerprint access?"

Hollyn had to admit she'd constantly been thinking the same question since that night.

Leila's phone went off, playing "Girls Just Want To Have Fun" loudly. She slipped it from her Vuitton and rolled her eyes. "It's my agent. I forgot about the modeling campaign I was supposed to shoot today." A torn look marred her perfect features.

"It's okay, Lei. You should go."

"But you'll be here alone. And Archie said he's got a deadline coming up on something at work."

"What?" Archie looked like he'd been caught daydreaming. He cleared his throat. "Oh yeah, right." He looked to Hollyn and shrugged. "It's the Robison. I really should get the last of the paperwork finished up."

"Of course." She knew the project well. It was the one she'd helped him on the other day. "I promise I'm good, you guys. Davis said he'd only be gone a couple hours."

Leila and Archie exchanged tentative glances before Leila nodded. "Okay. But I'll have my phone with me. If you need anything, you call me."

"Same," Archie echoed. He stood. Paused like he was going to say something, but didn't.

What was going on with him lately? The animosity toward Davis. Needing help with work. It wasn't like him. At all.

Hollyn shoved the worries aside and hugged her friends goodbye. Soon the silence in the house was nearly deafening. It caused her mind to wander, and where it landed . . . was Bongani.

It was time.

Seeing him wouldn't be any less traumatic next week or the week after, and he was probably grieving just like she was.

Without another thought, she locked the house and trotted to the garage before she changed her mind.

Hollyn didn't take risks. Truly. She calculated all the dangers of every situation and made plans accordingly. So how was it that she found herself parked in front of Bongani's apartment? Alone. Knowing full well that there was a guy out there actively trying to get to her.

At least she'd made it here in one piece, though. She'd only driven herself around the city a handful of times in the last few years, and it wasn't for the faint of heart.

"This was stupid," she mumbled.

What was Davis going to say if he got back before she did? Nothing good, that was for sure.

She should go. Right now.

"Hollyn?" a familiar voice asked from the passenger side of the car.

Surprise threw her heart into her throat, but it was Bongani, not a random killer, who waved to her from the sidewalk. He was holding fabric grocery bags. Likely full of fresh produce from nearby Al Mina Fruit and Vegetable Souk.

"Uh, hey." She waved back and got out of the car. Locked it as she walked to Bongani.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, confusion all over his face. His Hindi accent was instant balm to her grief. Familiar and warm.

Really should have at least called him first instead of showing up randomly.

He towered over her, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see . . . how you were doing since—" She couldn't even say the words.

Awareness tugged up Bongani's eyebrows and he nodded. "Please, come in."

Hollyn followed him up the stairs and into the apartment building.

"I should have called you first," she apologized as they ascended stairs to the second floor.

"It's okay." He smiled graciously. "How are you?" He unlocked the door, and they stepped inside.

"I'm . . . " She shrugged. Sighed. "As good as I can be, I suppose."

His apartment was small and minimalistic, but she got the impression she could eat off the floor if she needed to. The place was spotless.

Bongani placed the bags on the counter and started putting things in his fridge. She caught him eyeing her. Probably wondering why she'd come over just to stand mute in his kitchen. Hollyn felt like such an intruder right now. She shouldn't be here.

"Is there anything specific you wished to talk about?" he probed.

"Isayus." The word was out before her next breath, and it surprised her.

Bongani's hand stalled over the carton of milk. "Yes." He was quiet for a moment. "I will miss my friend. But I take comfort in the fact that he is with Heavenly Father now."

She'd always admired Bongani's unwavering faith. He'd actually been the one to invite her family to the church they all attended now. Their belief was something they had in common, but if she were honest with herself, God had taken a backseat in her life the last couple of years.

That should change.

"You're not mad?" she asked.

"Mad? No." He shook his head. "I decided long ago that anger only hurts me. It does nothing to the one who did me wrong."

Hollyn nodded and slumped down on one of the bar stools around the peninsula.

"But you are mad?" Bongani closed the fridge.

"I'm trying not to be, but I can feel it getting stronger. The more we find out about the accident and that it likely wasn't an accident . . . it just"—she balled her bandaged hand—"makes me so angry. And terrified. And . . . fragile."

Entirely too close to how she'd felt the day she'd been taken from her childhood home and placed in foster care.

"It was not an accident?" Bongani repeated.

Hollyn watched him. "We don't think so."

He was still for a moment. Sighed. "I will pray for whoever is responsible."

"What?" Hollyn seethed in shock. The idea instantly ignited a lividity that had her shaking. He couldn't be serious. "Pray for them? To be caught and prosecuted, right?"

"To turn themselves in. To find redemption in Heavenly Father."

She was on her feet in the next second. Deep-seated anger flared. "Redemption?" She couldn't be hearing him correctly. "How about pray they're taken off this earth before they have a chance at redemption!"

Sadness rested in his dark eyes. "I cannot pray for that. And neither can you."

The nerve!

"You know what?" She stalked toward the door. "This was a mistake."

"Hollyn."

"Forget it!" Hollyn closed the door on his next words and shot down the stairs.

She could hardly see straight. Pray for the people who'd murdered her parents?

Not happening. Ever.

"Agh!" She raged to no one but herself as she shoved out the front door.

People passing by on the sidewalk frowned at her and picked up their pace as she neared.

Somewhere close, a car alarm was blaring, loud and obnoxious. It mixed with the angry monologue in her head. Then awareness dawned and she froze. Glass shards littered the ground at the passenger side of her BMW.

Her car. Her alarm.

"No," she breathed as she jogged over. She shut off the alarm with her key fob. "No, no . . . "

The window had been smashed into a million tiny pieces. In the sun, flecks of glass glinted against the dark interior of the car.

Hollyn leaned through the window, shoes crunching on the glass that covered the ground. Her purse—why had she been foolish enough to leave it behind?—was still there. Frantically glancing around, she dug through the bag, careful to avoid the sharp shards protruding from the doorframe. Relief sparked when her fingers brushed her passport and phone.

So lucky, Hol. Maybe use your head next time.

The feeling of being watched intensified. She stood. Looked around. Several parked cars lined the road, but even squinting into the glare of the sun's rays, she couldn't tell if people were in them.

But that feeling. It grew more ominous.

Get out of here. Now.

Hollyn dropped her purse down on the passenger seat. Raced to the driver's side, furiously pressing the unlock button, and jumped in. With shaking hands, she rammed the key into the ignition and peeled away from the apartment building. She tried once, twice, to get her seatbelt in place and had just felt it click when she caught sight of an SUV pulling out of the row of vehicles. Jerky moves of the black vehicle told her the driver was in a hurry.

Gaze darting from the road to the rearview mirror and back, Hollyn could feel her whole body trembling. She pressed the accelerator to put more distance between herself and the SUV.

It sped up.

Hollyn cried out. She saw a road coming up. Took it. Her tires chirped in protest at her lack of deceleration, but she maintained control. Both hands gripping the steering wheel, heart solidly in her throat, she kept checking behind her and almost sighed when she didn't see the SUV turn down the road.

Then it appeared.

And bore down on her at a speed that said she was about to be in serious trouble.