Savage Beauty (The Arrow Tactical Series Book 5)

Chapter 29

Erik’s name flashes on my phone screen as I cross the tarmac.

“Erik.” The one-word greeting is a tip-off to my mood. This whole mess is confusing as fuck.

“You boarded yet?”

“About to.” A pilot in navy slacks and a white, button-down, short-sleeve shirt stands at the top of the stairs. He’s holding a water bottle and watching an incoming jet.

“I’ve got a photo I’m going to text you. It’s a frame from the security cameras.”

I pause at the base of the stairs and use my hand to shield the sun from the screen. A photo shows Sloane exiting the front entrance of Origins Laboratories.

“She’s going back to work there. Didn’t I tell you?” I ascend the four steps to the entrance of the jet. Although, she agreed to wait. Matteo probably isn’t in place yet. But, why would I expect her to heed potential risks?

“Look at that photo again. There’s blood on her shirt. She arrived at 3:25. She exited at 3:52.”

“She probably went to deliver a letter.” The letter she said she’d sit on for a beat. “They haven’t officially hired her back yet.”

“Did you not hear me when I said there’s blood on her shirt? That wasn’t there when she arrived.”

The pilot steps back, patiently holding out a hand for me to shake. I ignore him and focus on the still once again. Zoom in. Damn. It’s definitely blood. It almost looks like she wiped blood off on herself.

What the hell?

I’m back down the steps at a run. I pop my earbuds in and switch the reception over. “Can you handle canceling the flight? I’m going to find her.”

My bags are on a wheeled luggage trolley. I unzip the short duffel that holds my handguns, grab my Glock, load it, and tuck it into the back of my pants.

“Max. Hold up.”

I scan the parking lot. I turned my rental car in, but there’s a moped with the keys dangling. I’ll return it.

“If the intel we’re receiving is correct, she could’ve been a player all along.”

“Erik.” I’ve lost all patience with this guy. “You think she’s behind someone targeting her sister?”

“Probably not. But she might’ve just exacted revenge on the person who was.”

I sling a leg over the seat and flip the key. The engine putters. He’s completely off the mark. “Has anyone come or gone since Sloane left?”

“No.”

“Where is she?”

“We traced her phone, and it’s at the villa. Is that an engine I hear?”

“Yep.”

“Where are you going?”

“You say no one has come or gone from the lab since she left?”

“No one other than a security guard.”

“Security patrols the grounds now?”

“Started two days after you two stole a laptop. Nothing suspicious about that.”

“I’m going to head to the lab and see what I find.”

“Why?”

“Well, you believe she killed someone, right?” The wind skims my face and rifles through my hair.

“Or maimed.”

“Here’s the thing. I don’t buy for a second that Sloane is in on anything. Which means chances are, if she hurt anyone, it was in self-defense. She doesn’t have her phone on her, so the best way for me to find her is to track her down. And that’s going to where she was last seen.”

Erik wisely does not argue.

“Where’s Matteo?”

“I’ll check.” He ends the call.

It takes me fourteen minutes to reach the lab. There are no cars or bicycles in the parking lot, which means if the security guard is still on duty, it’s probably the guy who lives nearby. I park the moped on the sidewalk at the side entrance.

The doors are locked, as it’s a Saturday. I have nothing on me to pick the lock. My options are to shoot the lock or shatter the glass. I scan the ground for any kind of heavy rock or brick.

“Sir, can I help you?”

I spin to face the security guard. He’s wearing pressed khaki shorts and an untucked short sleeve golf shirt with the logo that reads “Island Breeze Security.”

“Ah, yes. Thank goodness you’re here. Any chance you can let me inside?”

“You work here?”

And here goes. How to spin this?

He probably has a list of employees.

“I received a phone call from my girlfriend. She’s hurt. She’s inside. Didn’t want to call an ambulance or anything.”

“What do you mean, she’s hurt?”

“She fell. You know, getting something out of one of those top cabinets in the lab. She’s not supposed to be using the ladder when there’s no one else around. Doesn’t want to get in trouble. You know how it is.”

“I was just inside. Didn’t see anything. But I did hear something. Thought it might be an engine backfiring.”

“She’s in her lab. Down the back hall. It’s ah… room 2A.”

“Those doors are closed.” He lifts his shirttail and tugs at a keychain that’s hooked to his belt loop. “She shoulda called out to me. It’s not like I care if she breaks rules. I’m just here to prevent theft.”

He unlocks the door, and I push past him. “Thanks, man.”

I tear down the hall. There are only two labs in this building that I’ve been in. Sloane’s and Dr. Kallio’s.

Smeared blood stains the white tile around the corner, and I sprint. The security guard’s footsteps track behind me. He hasn’t yet come across the blood, but he’ll be there in seconds.

Tracks lead directly to Dr. Kallio’s lab. If Sloane did this, she didn’t bother to conceal the evidence.

I pull my gun and thrust the door open with all my might, going for the element of surprise. The door slams against the wall. No one faces me. If anyone’s in here with a weapon, they’re hiding.

The footsteps click down the hall at a fast pace.

A stream of blood flows to the door. Shoe prints. Two styles.

I track the prints.

Find two navy heels. Pants. Blouse.

The chest rises.

She’s alive.

The source of blood is a knife wound in her neck.

“What the…”

“Call emergency services. She’s alive.”

“Shit! Holy fuck.” The security guard is not a happy man.

I step forward and check for a pulse. It’s faint. There’s a lot of blood on this floor.

Her eyelids flutter. “You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you help. Can you tell me who did this?”

Her lips move. I bend closer, both to hear her and to examine the wound. The blood flow has slowed, which isn’t a good sign.

“Sloane.”

The word is unmistakable. I sit back on my heels, taking stock.

It’s a knife wound. Sloane killed the nurse with a knife.

I scan the room. And then I see it. A pistol. A Ruger Max-9. Three feet to the side of her.

Fuck. I was right. Self-defense.