Savage Beauty (The Arrow Tactical Series Book 5)

Chapter 9

Next to Sloane’s feet is the cardboard box we lifted from her apartment. Her toenails, like her fingernails, are bare and cut short with rounded edges. I was there when the nurse discussed the nails with Sage, or more correctly, I was sitting in the background, observing.

Much like I am now. Jack told me to keep an eye on her because he doesn’t trust she’s been completely open with us. I’m doing what he said, serving as both security and investigator.

She’s an interesting woman. Very different from my exes or my sister. She’s direct. There’s no guessing with her. She says her mind, and on the whole, that’s a huge relief. This assignment would be a ball of frustration if I had to probe to find out what’s bothering her.

The way she’s treating that box, you’d think there were diamonds inside. If I hadn’t prompted her, we would’ve left her place with only that box. What kind of woman needs to be reminded to pack make-up and shit? She’s an enigma. Wickedly intelligent by all accounts. Capable of being involved in a complicated crime? Acting innocent? No. Jack Sullivan is off base.

When we extracted Sloane from the compound, she’d been clean, but her nails were dirty and jagged. Sage asked the nurse for clippers and a file. She wanted to take care of her sister, and cleaning her nails was something she could do as she slept. I’d asked if Sloane ever did Sage’s nails, my thought being that if I snapped a photo, Sloane would get a kick out of the role reversal when she woke up, but Sage looked at me like the idea of Sloane doing nails was preposterous. She’d sort of laughed and then said no, not Sloane, and then she’d told me about how her mom did her nails when she’d been younger and in the hospital as a way to pass the time.

Sloane flips open a MacBook Pro. The only things in the box are laptops and a collection of chargers.

I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who is more my sister’s opposite. If that had been my sister’s apartment, I would’ve had to back our rental car up to the steps and load make-up, nail polish, picture frames, clothes, and every single one of those shoes. And Sloane’s priority was her box of laptops that other people would’ve donated, but she kept.

Of course, I don’t give away my laptops either. Security training covers all the risks.

While she’s absorbed with her laptop, I shoot off an update to the team that I didn’t find anything of interest in her apartment. I’m a little curious what’s on the hard drives on her laptops, but codebreaking isn’t one of my skills. If I see her enter a passcode, then I’ll try it out on some of these others, but unlike Jack, my gut says we can trust her. If she possessed something that would help us, she’d let us know.

As it is, her long, dark hair shines beneath the incoming sun’s rays. She tucks it behind each ear, but because she’s hunched over, smooth, silky strands fall past her ears, refusing to be held back.

Last night, she threw me. The kiss threw me. I mean, sure, I kissed her, but I planned on acting. Pressing my lips flat against hers and hovering over her. Pretending. Playing it off like we were two lovers.

This case is too messed up for us to throw in sex, too. The villa we’re in has two-bedroom suites upstairs. I took the one across from hers, insisting that our doors remain open. If she screamed during the night, I needed to hear her. Still, it wasn’t the safest. This set-up isn’t the safest.

If I didn’t want Knox to chase this thing with Sage, I’d tell him to get his ass here.

But Arrow has two contract workers on standby, and if I need them, they’ll get here quickly.

Jack wants me to get her into the lab. Let her get what she can off the server. Then he wants us to come home. But he’s agreed we need to do some surveillance first. We need to better understand what we’re dealing with at the lab. The hours. The security. See if anything’s changed since we performed surveillance a couple of weeks ago when we first got pulled into this case, searching for Sloane.

Stella’s currently scouring the island for a couple of nondescript cars we can rent. We need vehicles on the beat-up side that won’t warrant a second glance. Maybe a little salt rust to underscore it’s a local car. The plan is to park across the street from the employee parking lot, and we need a couple of vehicle options so we don’t get burned with familiarity.

Sloane will spend the day watching who is coming and going. We’ll gain her insights. Hopefully, we’ll see this Dr. Kallio she’s so concerned with. She’ll see that her boss sold her out and let authorities take this over, supported by the information she compiles.

The speed of clicking keys slows and stops with a crescendo of one crisp clack. She pushes the laptop over to me. “See.”

It’s a live camera feed. She’s logged in to a view of a hospital hallway.

“This is the ICU for the hospital where I interned one semester.”

“They have a public camera?”

“No. I just remember how to access it. When Sage was there, I got to know a lot of the employees. The nurses and doctors were busy, but the security and janitorial staff had more time. Look down this hall. This is where people come when they’ve run out of time. I login sometimes so I can remember what it feels like. Sometimes I’ll see family members crying. Pacing the hallway when either the maximum number of occupants are in the room or maybe they just need a break. Can’t keep it together. My mom and dad were like that. They had their Sage-face, and then they had their hallway tear-streaked face, the one that came out when they thought no one was watching. Sometimes you’ll see doctors and nurses running. Or you know there’s a DNR if they don’t run, they just walk. Over one hundred thousand people in the United States are waiting for organs right now. My research bent some laws, yes, but the reason is good.”

“I get it.” And I do. I’m a soldier who believes death can save lives. As much as we may wish for a black and white world, we fill our universe with shades of gray. “Why are you showing me this?”

“I need to tell you something.” Her gaze lowers. She’s looking at her nails, the keyboard, the black band on her wrist that alternates placement on her wrist and her hair. I don’t know what she’s looking at, but she’s sure as hell not looking at me. That’s her MO. I’m getting used to it and trying my damnedest not to read into it.

“Shoot.”

“I don’t like that word.”

Won’t touch guns. Also doesn’t like any words associated with them? “It’s an expression. Just say it. Tell me whatever you want to say.”

She hasn’t seemed to hold anything back yet. Is she about to cop to something?

“Don’t get angry. Maybe I shouldn’t.” She stops speaking and places her hands beneath her thighs. Her knees bounce up and down. “No, I should.”

She’s got my curiosity spiked. I lean back, giving her more physical space. I’ve noticed when she’s got a lot going on in her head, she does better when she’s got plenty of personal space.

“Okay. I’m going to tell you because I think you need to know. As we work on this, you need to know.”

“Okay.” I soften my voice, doing my best not to scare her into shutting up. Jack Sullivan might’ve been right. She may be one we can’t trust. But something tells me whatever she’s struggling with is going to give us a shit ton of insight.

“In the compound, I know what they were having me test those people for.”

“Okay.” Yeah, I sound like a broken record, but her knees are bouncing like she’s popped too many Adderall. In this moment, head bowed, shoulders caved in, she’s flighty. Nervous. If I move too quickly, I fear she might fly away. And if she vanishes, the opportunity to figure this out and find the people responsible for Felix’s death vanishes too.

She lets out a deep breath. “What they were doing had nothing to do with Origins. I mean, maybe they found me because of what I was working on. Or maybe they knew my personal history. But what was going on in that compound…”

“You can tell me. I’m on your side. Team Sloane all the way.”

“You might not be once I tell you. What I did was wrong.”