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“Riku’s first rule of security—never trust Russia or Russia’s friends.”
“Riku. How bloody awful. I miss him.” David’s Oxbridge accent wavered, and he dropped his chin to his chest and wiped his eyes.
Uneasy about processing more grief, she shifted in her chair. A lump formed in her throat, and she dug her fingernails into one palm to ward off tears. “I held his hand until he died.”
“Christ, the loss is unfathomable. And I’ve got bigger problems than Kyle’s code floating around.”
Visions of Yuri and Dmitry unsettled her, and a familiar chill spread through her body. “The two gunmen are still on the run.”
“I’ve been working with Chief Inspector Michael Adams with the Metropolitan Police, and the Mounties are working nonstop in Vancouver, too.”David’s expression remained fixed.
“Nothing’s resolved, then.” Goose bumps spread over her skin. Despite their confident assurances that they’d find the gunmen, the RCMP officers hadn’t updated her. No news meant bad news. Dead set on avenging the gunmen’s violence, she clenched her jaw tight.
“All we can do is stay vigilant and secure our network perimeter. We’ll be safe.”
She wanted to throttle him. “Know this, David: you are not safe. Not here, not anywhere. These men could take you out in an instant.” Imagining danger didn’t equate with suffering violence firsthand, and she understood primal fear in a visceral way he couldn’t.
“Don’t be paranoid. The police will protect me, and I’ll be fine.” He swiped his hands together.
Given their enemies were still running free, she scoffed at David’s blind faith. “Look, you can pretend everything’s buttoned up, but it’s not. If I’d waited to be rescued, I’d be dead. Protect yourself.”
As he exhaled, David slumped his shoulders and tilted his head. “No one questions your dedication, Tess, but you’re too stubborn to do the right thing. I’m placing you on medical leave, effective immediately.”
An order, not a request, and David seldom gave orders. Staring at him, she saw compassion and guilt playing tug-of-war in his expression, with each struggling for dominance. Heat coursed through her body, and her cheeks burned. “What? The right thing? For God’s sake, I’m not twelve. I’ll make my own health care decisions.”
“No, I know you. You’d never give up on your own accord. My driver is parked outside—he’ll take you to your hotel.”
“You’re making a huge mistake. You’ve never needed me more.” Rising to stand, she almost folded over from dizziness. His refusal to admit the magnitude of the looming threat infuriated her. Before reaching the door, she whipped around. “Once you wake the hell up and realize how much danger you’re in, you’ll need my help—if it isn’t too late.” Before he could reply, she slammed the door and passed Declan and Kavita in the hallway without a word.
Declan followed her and grabbed her shoulder. “What happened in there?”
Too angry to speak, Tess swept his hand away and didn’t turn back. The club’s elevator was still broken, and she tackled the staircase on crutches, one cumbersome step at a time. Effectively exiled, she retreated and slipped into the black chauffeured sedan outside to head for Westminster.
As the car pulled away from the curb, she doubled her resolve to find the truth, no matter how high the stakes, even if she had to do it alone.
Chapter Twelve
An Old Friend
After checking into her usual hotel in Westminster, a small suite with a view of the River Thames, Tess sank onto a damask-striped slipper chair and took stock. Floating in a purgatorial void, without work or activity for distraction, she decided a round of self-care was her best course of action. Room service delivered a chicken sandwich, tomato soup, a giant bottle of mineral water, and an ice bag for her leg. Watching the boats float down the river, she devoured the lunch and swallowed another oxycodone capsule with water.
A long shower helped to shake off the calamitous meeting. While drying her hair, she fixated on her laptop bag, where Kyle’s manila envelope peeked out from the top pocket. Upset about Mark leaving and the failed tech review, she hadn’t formed a plan to search for the mysterious package. Kyle’s letter symbolized a virtual resurrection of his soul, alive again for a few precious moments. What message had he left behind, and why did it require such secrecy?
Restless and curious, she slipped into fresh clothes and folded the letter with the brass key into her trench coat pocket. While grabbing her crutches, she staggered, dizziness overtaking her, and plopped onto the nearest chair with a groan. “Crap.”
Forced to ask for help, she debated calling Declan or her admin, Tilly, but rejected both ideas. Per policy, the entire executive staff would receive notification of her leave status. With any luck, her friend Sophie might be in London and not on assignment outside the UK. A quick scan of her phone contacts turned up Sophie Reed, and she texted.
—Need you. Meet outside my Westminster hotel?—
Seconds later, a response appeared.
—Lamest proof of life ever. Give me 20 minutes.—
Sophie, a powder keg of ever-shifting and conflicting moods, had been her best friend since they were girls. Tess grinned, her spirits lifting. Perhaps Sophie could expedite finding Kyle’s package.
The hallway’s navy-blue carpet’s interlocking gold pattern undulated and rippled with her vision. Unsteady, she anchored her feet on the floor and crossed the lobby with painstaking steps out to the hotel’s garden, where an empty wooden bench surrounded by autumn flowers welcomed her. After several minutes, footsteps approached, and she grasped the bench’s iron-black armrest to wobble to a stand.
A smooth, manicured hand slapped her unwounded cheek.
