“I can see we’re also short on surveillance work, too. Nigel, we might have to deploy some cameras. I want to see who is interested in the site other than the police or ATF.”
“I can have those rigged tonight. Already started thinking about that. We also have footage inside the lobby area that was saved. All that goes off-site to another server. When the cameras were destroyed, their feed was not.”
“Good. I want you combing over those. If you need to hire a couple of helpers, go ahead. And, Kevin, get a couple of your buddies to help with the tracking. Let’s find out where Rebecca is and who she’s talking to. We have to find Jared and Judie.”
“What about Shannon’s friend Sandy, Boss? She talks about her all the time. The Cuban makeup artist at the station,” reminded Rhea.
“Yes. Kevin, get on that right away.”
“Will do.”
Marco surveyed the room. “Where the hell are Ron and Pete? Didn’t they get back from their trip to get the princes in New York?”
“Oh, they already have some stories,” said Kenny. “I’m pretty sure they are at a couple of strip clubs downtown. The girl they brought with them is a real handful and, I guess, a pretty good lap dancer herself. They asked me, and I agreed probably best to keep them busy, away from their cell phones, and not able to watch the news. Pete didn’t want to get the ultimatum from the sultan himself to bring the boy’s home. They wanted to talk to you.”
“Okay, you let Pete and Ron know that they are to not let Khalil and Absalom out of their sight. I’m going to call the sultan tonight, and I’m having surgery in the morning, but as soon as I’m myself again, I want to have a conversation about what we’re doing and why, especially now that the project has changed.”
He left the last few minutes for questions. Then Marco told them to go home, get to bed early, and start work at eight, or earlier if they needed to. He wanted them to take notes, so that when he was able, he’d get a status update.
“Before we knew we had some hurdles to go through. Now we know we have an enemy. Believe it or not, that makes it easier. The solution will present itself as soon as we can figure out who that enemy is.”
He dismissed the group and called the sultan, who had been in touch with Senator Campbell, been reassured that the princes were safe, and knew Marco was going to recover.
“I’m rethinking my visit later on,” the sultan said.
“Don’t do that. You promised.”
“Yes, but I didn’t expect this.”
“Well, let me find out who we are battling first. Then I’ll give you the chance to rethink your decision. But don’t pull out on me now. Once I get healthy, you know I will protect them with my life.”
“You are a man of your word, Marco.”
Marco greeted Dr. Patel one last time before retiring. The night nurse gave him a sedative to help with his sleep. With his pain meds refilled, a new fresh pillow placed on the bed, he began to doze off, dreaming of the warm sand, the beaches, and the sunsets he missed so. Shannon walked beside him, her hair blowing in the gentle moist wind that billowed her skirts and puffed out her blouse. How he wanted endless days of forever with her, just like that. No jets, no bombs, no last-minute rescues. Just building sandcastles on the beach, watching the warm glow of the dying day fall into another bright morning.
His cell was charging by his head, and his screen lit up. He turned and tried to pick up the case, nearly dropping it. The text message was from Shannon’s phone number, and at first, his heart was elated.
But then he read the message.
You will never see Shannon again.
Attached to the text message was a picture of her sitting across a table from Jared Newsome.
Chapter 13
Shannon sipped on her margarita, even though this wasn’t a social meeting, much as Jared would like to think otherwise. It was annoying to her that he kept bringing it up. Her filter was getting clogged with all the detritus she’d accumulated—things she learned about people she thought she could trust completely, and now she wasn’t sure that filter was even able to function. A clean break from everything, staying away from Marco and the team, staying away from the station, from the police, from anybody, seemed the right thing to do until she got her head on straight.
But she did know he was having surgery tomorrow morning. Part of her still knew she should be there at his side. But something was wrong with the whole situation and the fact that he was still paying for Rebecca’s bills, which should have been something he should have told her, and even suspected Rebecca as being responsible for Em’s death, chilled her heart. She didn’t hate him. She was confused. His empire seemed to be crumbling all around everyone, and she was no longer sure who was the enemy.
That meant she had to get into her research mode—her personal safe space. She needed data. When all else failed, she knew investigating the facts, analyzing, and looking at the pattern with all the facts at her disposal, was the only way she would know for sure. In the meantime, if something didn’t add up, that person had to be eliminated from her rolodex for now. Facts don’t lie. Emotions do. And there was no doubt in her mind that she still loved Marco, and couldn’t quite think of him as evil, but somehow, she wasn’t sure that he didn’t contribute to Emily’s accident, through his associations with others, namely Rebecca. And how could he be married to someone who would do such a thing? What did that say about him, his judgment, his ability to keep her safe?
As she swirled the strawberry drink around to pick up some of the salt on the rim, she thought about how ironic it was. She had just gotten to the point where she felt she could fully trust him. She’d begun to relax to the point where she saw that as not only a pleasurable option, but a reality. He was the only one who could teach her, set up the framework to keep her safe, and to create a position for her at his side.
But when it came right down to it, he didn’t trust her with a truth—a deadly and dangerous truth, that changed the whole picture for her. It was her right to know if someone else was involved in Em’s death. It wasn’t his to keep it secret.
That experience with the man in the pickup was like a burst of reality that her safe bubble was an illusion. Marco even said it was. He was so right. She had to take things under control, learn how to defend herself, never rely on anyone one hundred percent to keep her safe. Without her own active involvement, safety was always going to be a fantasy.
Jared had been watching her, and he was now beginning to make her nervous.
“Aren’t you even going to look at the information I printed out for you?” he asked.
“I will, when I’m alone, not here.”
“Well, this was your choice, Shannon. Look—” he reached out to touch her hand and she pulled back. “It’s not like that.”
“Then stop doing it. You freak me out every time you touch me.”
“But I’m not the enemy. I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”
“Oh, so now you’re going to be my security, like Marco thought he could.”
“Shannon, I started to uncover some irregularities with your sister’s death. Who else has brought you this kind of information? If you couldn’t trust me, why bring me something to do that might endanger me or my position? I care about you, deeply.”