Chapter 5

Chapte r

Five

C hris looked out his hotel window, not seeing the view, as he waited for his call to Steve to connect. He kept his back firmly off the sight of the rumpled bed. If he didn't, he'd be tempted to walk over there, scoop up the pillow that Lindy's head had rested against and breathe deeply, hoping to catch the lingering scent of her musky perfume—an exotic smell that reminded him of the markets in Morocco.

The whole time he'd walked back to his hotel, he'd lectured himself on letting his need to protect Lindy go. Yet the second he walked in, he'd known that he couldn't pack up and leave. As inane as it was, Chris didn't want to get on the plane in a couple of days. He wanted to stay and, yes, he wanted to explore the feelings developing between him and Lindy. If they were one-sided, so be it, at least he'd taken the risk and had gotten his answer. If he left, he would always wonder.

"Chris, you're calling early. You at the airport?" Steve's rough voice sounded in his ear.

"Nah, my flight wasn't due to leave until Sunday." After making the decision to say, he'd called the airline to change his ticket to an open-ended one. It had cost him a lot to do it, but as it had always only been him, and he hadn't had much reason to spend the money he earned, he had healthy savings and investment accounts to give him the freedom to do things like extend his stay.

"Wasn't due to leave? What's changed?" His associate's voice seemed a little more alert now, and Chris wasn't surprised the man had picked up on his words. Those observations made him a good security specialist and team leader.

"I changed my ticket to an open-ended one."

"Why?"

Again, he wasn't surprised at Steve's question, his friend knew he wouldn't change a ticket on a whim—which he kind of had, but he'd also had a reason.

"I was out last night, and saw a woman get her bag snatched. Something about it seemed odd." The explanation was vague, at best, and had more holes in it than a target after he'd shot it up a few dozen times.

"You expect me to believe that explanation? What aren't you telling me, Swanson?"

Chris could understand Steve's frustration, in all the time they'd worked together—and it had been on many missions—he'd been nothing but straight forward, down the line direct.

No bullshit. No wishy-washy explanations.

Those types of things had the potential to put missions in danger, and that was the last thing either of them wanted or needed.

This time, though, it had become personal for him, and he didn't know how to deal with that. However, if he wanted Steve's help—and he did—he needed to tell him everything.

"Okay, you're right, here's the low-down." He spent the next five minutes explaining what'd happened and his gut feeling that there was something more to it.

Steve whistled low when he finished. "That's quite the story. If someone other than you were involved, I'd tell them to stop thinking with their dick, a bag had been snatched end of story. But this is you, and you wouldn't be giving it a third and fourth thought if it was nothing. Plus, it's Lindy Jones, she's not a nobody around here."

Bursts of jealousy burned through him like hot lava, had Steve slept with Lindy. Chris clutched his phone tighter, resisting the urge to pound his fist against the wall. "You know Lindy?"

How he managed to get the words to sound normal surprised the hell out of him.

"Settle down, Swanson, it's not like that. Everyone in Perth knows Lindy because she's the richest woman in the whole country. Her father was a mining magnate. Ran the biggest mining company in Australia. He was killed in a drunk driving accident a few months ago and Lindy is now running it all. She inherited her father's shares."

Chris digested the information, his mind turning over and over. "How much money are we talking?"

"Billions."

His internal instincts had switched on and were flashing red danger signs at him. "Was her father's accident really an accident?"

Silence greeted his question, and if he had to hazard a guess, Steve hadn't considered that Lindy's father's death was anything but a tragic event. Maybe it had been, but he wasn't going to dismiss it, not now that Lindy had had her bag snatched. Although, that incident was minor in comparison to a fatal car crash.

"As far as we know it was, the driver had a high blood alcohol reading, and it wasn't his first DUI. I don't think it could've been planned for him to be on the road at the same time as Samuel Jones. Not to mention the exact location."

While Steve may have relayed the words with confidence, instinct told Chris his friend had been giving it some consideration.

"Yeah, it looks that way, but as I said something seemed off. Have you got a way to get your hands on any CCTV footage around the area?"

"I do. We've got a good relationship with the local police, especially after everything Jude and his friends are doing in their efforts with the homeless, kids and adults. Not to mention their endeavors to stop child sex trafficking."

Chris was aware of what Jude Cadmon and his friends did, after all, he'd helped rescue his sister a couple of years ago, and the reason he was in Perth was for Renee's wedding. It didn't surprise him that Jude and his friends had created a good relationship with the authorities, and Steve benefited from it.

"Great. How long will it take you to get access? "

"Give me two hours."

"I'll be at your office at midday."

"Sounds good. If I hit any trouble, I'll let you know, but I don't think there will be any."

"Later." Chris disconnected the call and pocketed his phone. He had some time to kill before he had to meet with Steve.

It should give him just enough time to do a little research on Lindy, her family and more importantly, her father's death.

A t precisely midday, Chris walked through the doors of Steve's office. The receptionist greeted him with a smile.

"Hi Chris, he's expecting you. Go on through."

"Thanks, Margot."

He strode down the hall to Steve's office, but his friend wasn't there. He continued on, until he found the boardroom.

Steve sat at the head of the oval table and the rest of his team were seated around him.

Every nerve ending inside of him sharpened and tightened. If Steve had called the team in, then there had to be something major going on.

"What's wrong?" The demand burst out of Chris the second he'd crossed the threshold.

His friend looked up from the computer he'd been studying. "I got the footage from outside the pub and the area where Lindy was attacked."

Chris homed in on the change in Steve's terminology—from bag snatch to attack .

This didn't bode well.

After his own investigation of Lindy's father's accident had corroborated what Steve had said—that there wasn't anything sinister to do with it—he suspected that would be the case with what happened to Lindy, clearly it wasn't though.

"See something interesting?" He kept his voice casual when what he really wanted to do was stride over, snatch the laptop from his friend and view the footage himself. Which he didn't have to do, because Steve wouldn't keep him in the dark, not after he'd been the one to ask for help.

"Come see for yourself." The guy turned the laptop around for him to see.

He strode up to the table and took the seat that'd been vacated by Andy. "Thanks, man."

Andy nodded and went to sit by Wilt .

The men sitting at the table all appeared casual, as if they didn't have a care in the world, yet Chris knew if needed they could spring into action as quickly as he could.

He liked working with this team and was glad he could now consider them his friends, as well. If he needed their help, they'd have his back without batting an eyelash.

Chris pulled the laptop toward him and froze at the image paused on the screen—him and Lindy sitting at the bar. "The bar had cameras?"

Once again, he cursed himself for his lack of attention of his surroundings. If he'd done what he'd always done, scan the building he walked into for entry and exits points, along with cameras, this wouldn't be a shock. He hadn't; he'd walked in and had seen Lindy sitting at the bar and taken the empty stool.

Chris may have given the impression that he'd sat next to her by chance, but it hadn't been. He'd been drawn to her—still was—which was why he'd changed his ticket.

"Yep, and it's surprising." Steve's cryptic comment had him hitting play and watching his interaction with Lindy unfold on the screen, as though he was watching a movie.

He hit pause and started it again when he noticed someone moving in the background, toward them and then backing away when they'd gotten up to move to the table.

The action of the patron shouldn't have bothered Chris, but it did. The guy left the bar after he and Lindy had taken seats at the table.

"This next bit is from the outside cameras." Steve leaned over and closed the window of the bar footage and maximized another window.

The screen filled with an image of the street and the man who'd been in the bar rushing down it, he extracted something from his pocket and then pulled it over his face.

"What the fuck?" Chris rewound it and replayed it again, nothing changed from the first time he watched it to the second. The guy who attacked Lindy had been in the bar with them. Watching them.

He hadn't noticed.

If he could chew his own ass out, he would. Of all the incompetent things in the world, what Chris had done the previous night was high on the list. Never had he not been aware of everything going on around him. He was a Delta for fuck's sake—he should've been aware of the guy.

"Yeah, wait a little more, it gets interesting." Steve hit another button and the window on the screen split into two, showing the alley and the street they'd just been looking at.

The last thing Chris needed to watch was Lindy being attacked again, but no way could he look away. If he saw the incident again, he might be able to pick something up he'd missed and could tell the police.

After a few minutes of watching cars drift past, Lindy came into screen and the masked bandit came racing out of the alley and snatched her bag.

Chris saw the moment the perp had told Lindy it was only the start, and the stark fear on her face punched him in the gut, and all he wanted to do was reach through the screen and pull her into his arms—like he had last night.

He raced into the picture and the perpetrator dashed down the alley and then the screen went blank.

"Is there anymore?"

None of the other men in the room had spoken while he'd been watching all the footage. No doubt they'd already seen it and were waiting to see what he said and did.

"This is the last one." Steve, once again, pressed a few buttons and the window lit up another street view.

Chris didn't recognize it but he recognized the figure dashing out of the darkness and running to a car parked on the street. He expected him to jump in and for the vehicle to zoom off, except it didn't.

A well-dressed man got out of the car and the bandit handed Lindy's bag over to him. The other guy took it and unzipped it, looking into the depths of the purse.

"What's he looking for?" he murmured.

"Whatever it is, it's not there. Watch."

The second Steve finished speaking, the man shoved the bag snatcher and slapped him so hard he fell to the ground, clutching at his face.

Two other men got out of the car and punched him where he lay on the ground, before reaching down and throwing him into the back of the car.

The man who still held Lindy's purse, shook his head and got into the car before it shot off down the street.

Chris sat back and looked at Steve. "This was no random attack. Lindy is in danger."

"Yes, she is."