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“We can arrange for you to stay in a hotel for a couple of weeks,” Meyer said.
She squinted at the security officer. “Why would you do that?”
“It’s in everybody’s best interest for this story to die down,” he answered.
Brax liked how she looked over at him for guidance. “You used to live in Chesapeake, Virginia, before you took this job, right?” Brax asked.
She nodded. “I put everything into a storage unit. Part of my company package is that they would give me a lump sum bonus for a down payment on a house when I finished this assignment since I was giving up my home. Or I could just pocket the money.”
“Grab a hotel in Chesapeake, since you know the area. My team and I are in Virginia Beach, so we can help if things get out of hand.”
“I don’t think that’s protocol,” Meyer interrupted.
“Thought you wanted to keep things on the downlow.” Brax raised his eyebrow at Meyer.
“Well, yes,” the man sputtered.
“Can you think of many other people better able to keep things under wraps than a team of Navy SEALs?”
Peter Meyer sighed.
Jenny gave him a grateful smile.
11
Jenny flipped on the television for the fourth time in as many minutes, then turned it off again. The idea of watching a sitcom, the news, or a reality TV show held no appeal. She looked down at her cell phone and grimaced. Peter Meyer had gotten her a new one that had her number, contacts, and everything else downloaded from her cloud. The last time she’d turned it on, her voicemail had been full of messages from people from her company, but mostly calls from reporters.
“Dammit!”
She got off the couch, went over to the window, and looked outside. Still raining. Why was it that, after leaving a monsoon, she came home to rain? At least she was feeling better. The week in the hospital made a difference. She was still wearing a bandage around her ribs and coughing a lot, but she was beginning to feel human.
Maybe that was part of the problem. She felt better, but here she was hiding out near the Norfolk airport, going stir-crazy.
I need to get a plan together.
She went over to the hotel phone and picked up the notepad with Brax and Peter’s numbers written down on it. The final two days she’d been in the hospital, Brax had come to visit. He’d mumbled something about not being able to come sooner because of debriefings and red tape. It had scared her how grateful she’d been to see him. It wasn’t like her. Since her mom’s death she prided herself on not relying on anyone.
For the nineteen days she’d been cooped up here at beige central, which was how she’d come to think of her small hotel suite, his morning and evening calls were the highlight of her days. It was crazy. She didn’t even really know the man.
“Try pulling your other leg, Rivers. Now you know a lot about the man, and he knows a lot about you.”
At least he doesn’t know I talk to myself.
Besides the phone, Peter got her a tablet with all the bells and whistles. So far, she’d only used it to run searches on the internet about herself. She needed to stop it. Talk about something that was freaking her out. Why would people care so much about her? She was a nobody, and she liked it that way.
I need to get out of here. I need to do something!
She plopped back down on the sofa and hissed as the jerky movement sliced pain up her side. Apparently, her two ribs would take a few more weeks to heal.
She didn’t need to look at the paper when she picked up the hotel phone to call Brax; she’d memorized his number.
“Jenny?”
She looked at the receiver, stunned he’d picked up on the first ring.
“Uhm, hi.”
“Hi. Are you all right?”