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“Time we don’t need anyway if Godfrey can be believed,” Morrigan remarked blandly.
“Right.” Angela nodded. “Because he didn’t try to run me over.” She studied Roman carefully. “Do you believe him?”
Roman scrubbed his hands over his face, scratching at the stubble along his jawline. He was typically clean shaven, and Angela wasn’t mad about him neglecting to shave for the past few days. In fact, she really wanted to experiment with how that scruff felt between her legs. Down girl, she scolded herself. There’s a time and place for horniness, and it isn’t when your life is on the line.
“I don’t want to believe him,” Roman finally replied. “And it burns my ass, but... yes. I do.”
“Who tried to run me over then?” She couldn’t fathom having two people trying to kill her simultaneously.
“That’s the million-dollar question,” Luca grumbled, squinting at the screen in front of him.
Roman walked over to his brother. “Luca, I know you’ve looked at the footage of the hit and run until your eyes bled, but I need you to look again. See if you can find anything that corroborates Godfrey’s claim.”
“Or exposes him as a liar,” Abel tacked on.
Angela’s top lip curled in distaste, saying, “He’s not.”
Roman blinked at her. “Scusi?”
“He’s not a liar. He keeps his word. At least, he used to,” she allowed. “He let me go because my contract was up. He didn’t have to do that. My parents sure as hell wouldn’t have noticed or cared. But he did. Because to him, it was business.”
“I’ve been going over the hit and run for the last hour already,” Luca said, not looking up. “We’ll soon see if he’s still a man of his word. I’ll find something. I can feel it in my bones.”
That was news to Angela. “In your bones?” But Luca didn’t answer her, just kept muttering to himself as he banged violently on the keyboard.
Sal looked at his fiancé and grimaced. He leaned across the table, lowering his voice a little. “Luca has a spidey sense. When it hits, he tends to get tunnel vision. He won’t see or hear you until he figures it out.”
It should have sounded absurd, but she understood. Sometimes during surgery, there would be an unexplainable complication. Things went wrong when they shouldn’t. In those times, she relied on her gut to get her through. She was a woman of science, but there was a lot to be said for instinct.
She scrounged up a smile for Sal. “Spidey senses for the win.”
His answering smile looked relieved as he sat back, his gaze returning to Luca. “His anger over not being able to trace the call is adding fuel to the fire. He doesn’t sleep or eat when he gets like this.”
“It’s not his fault,” Morrigan said. She was pulling apart a gun and cleaning it. “I’ve never seen the type of scrambler Godfrey was using. Luca showed me the code. It was nuts.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Angela confessed.
“Scramblers manipulate the data stream between the receiver and the caller. The embedded code dictates where the signal pings to, sending out a false location,” Abel explained. He looked at her and immediately scowled. “Can you try looking a little less shocked? I’m more than just a pretty face.”
Angela closed her mouth with a snap. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were into IT stuff.”
“I’m not. But I’m a criminal, sweetheart.” He winked at her, letting her know he wasn’t mad.
Angela was relieved. She hadn’t meant to insult him, and she knew Abel had layers. “So, where did this ping to?” she asked, using the same term he had.
“Antarctica,” came his deadpan response.
She gaped. “For real?” When Abel nodded, she looked at Sal. “No wonder Luca is annoyed.”
“Just so,” Roman agreed. He walked over and sat down beside her. “The signal bounced around to over thirty locations before ending at the South Pole. It’s just another dead end.”
Angela reached for his hand. “Hey, this will come to an end. It can’t go on indefinitely.”
“I hope you’re right.” Roman didn’t sound optimistic, but he did squeeze her hand.
As discussions swirled around her, Angela tuned out, deciding to do something proactive instead. She ordered enough pizza to feed an army. Her friends needed fuel. Then she sent the front desk a message asking if they would get someone to bring them up. She also texted Claire, telling her to join them for dinner. When Claire arrived forty minutes later, it was with two burly men in tow, each carrying five pizza boxes.
Abel’s head popped up, and he sniffed like a hound catching a scent. “Pizza?”
