CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The morning had fortunately given Amelia a new perspective—or at least time to wrangle her feelings so that they would stay out of sight.
She’d awakened in Camden’s arms, memorized the feeling, then started her day as though she hadn’t had a stray heartbroken thought.
Perched on the couch with a large coffee in her hands, she eyed Camden’s cell phone in the center of the coffee table.
He’d warned her that his boss was going to be grouchy.
Jared Westin went far beyond any level of grouchiness she’d ever encountered.
“Goddamn the CIA,” Jared barked.
“Damn them all. Fuckin’ headache. Every one of them.”
That hadn’t been her first Jared phone call.
Not to mention, Camden’s warnings had been plenty.
But she still couldn’t wrap her head around a workplace where people actually growled and freely cursed.
If Jared hadn’t been scary, the entertainment value would have been pretty high.
Camden lay on his back, tossing the football overhead as the torrent continued.
Another man jumped into the conversation when Jared took a breath.
“This is what we know—”
That was Parker.
She was beginning to recognize voices, which gave her an odd level of reassurance.
“Why didn’t you say something already?” Jared snapped.
Parker snorted. “Just thought you needed to talk your feelings out, Boss Man.”
She leaned over the phone to double-check they were still on mute.
“Your office is a zoo.”
Camden laughed.
“Parker’s a literal genius and top-notch ballbuster.”
Good.
They could use all the brainpower they could muster, and Jared probably needed someone to knock him down occasionally.
“The Sapphire Accord says they don’t have security footage,” Parker said.
“Did you see cameras?”
Camden unmuted off the call.
“None.”
“Fine. I pulled the highway cams and tracked exit-bound traffic within two miles of Esme’s. Cross-referenced that with dates of similar gathering and eliminated any vehicles with plates tied to hired car services.”
“That seems like something the CIA should have done,” Amelia whispered.
“They might have thought of it, but I don’t know anyone who can work as fast as Parker.”
“We can hear you,” Jared grumbled.
“Parker doesn’t need to hear how fuckin’ smart he is.”
“ Parker ,” Parker said, “knows it already but doesn’t mind anything that drives Boss Man up the wall. So have at it.”
“They’re like an old married couple,” Amelia pointed out, “the kind that could use therapy.
“Enough already,” Jared grumbled but without the bite that he used on Parker and Camden.
Amelia grinned.
Camden snorted.
“All right, Parker, what do we get with that list?”
“About fifty-three vehicle registrations tied to individuals, twenty-seven to corporations.”
“That’s a lot of possibilities,” Amelia mused.
“Did anyone search highway cameras the night my sister went missing?”
“I don’t know,” Parker admitted.
“We could ask Beth or check with the feds.” Camden shrugged as though he already knew that would be an unproductive fight.
“Or we could just let Parker get what he needs.”
What did that mean?
She pursed her lips and watched Camden.
“Jared?” Parker asked.
“Want me to see what I can find on my own?”
Seconds ticked by.
Was “on his own” like hacking it?
“Fuck it. Yeah. Go for it—Cam, we’ll call you back once we get into the file.”
The line disconnected.
“Get into the file as in…?” she asked.
“I don’t ask how Parker gets the job done.” Camden shrugged again and tossed her the football.
“We should stay in and keep a low profile until we know more information. They’re not showing up here, so Beth’s not our leak.”
“I’d rather do something more proactive.” She tossed the ball to herself like he did.
Concentrating on it was enough of a distraction that she didn’t toss it back.
“We don’t have anything to do yet. Going out in public does nothing but put a bull’s-eye on you—you know what we could do?”
Jumping back into bed was her first immediate thought.
Her cheeks blazed. “What?”
“Figure out why the hell they’re following you.”
His cell phone buzzed, and he glanced at the screen.
“Esme Van Alstyn.”
Amelia’s stomach dropped.
She didn’t want to face the upset dominatrix, but they probably owed her an apology for starting a fire.
Camden stood to take the call.
He paced and listened and ignored Amelia’s request for speakerphone.
Finally, he tossed the phone onto the couch, held up his hands for the football, and easily caught her bad toss.
“She wants us to come back.”
“Is she mad?”
“At us? No. Actually, pretty sure she was embarrassed.” He spun the ball between his hands.
“No one could identify the two men or, for that matter, us.”
“Really?”
He shook his head.
“Doubtful. But probably, no one wants to be involved in any part of an investigation that would require them to be on the record.” He dropped onto the couch.
“The only thing she’s certain of is no one got into her party without one of her invitations.”
“So she knows them.”
“They could each have been a plus-one, which isn’t vetted as carefully. Apparently, the Sapphire Accord’s rules on guests allow them to anonymize their dates so long as they take responsibility for their actions.”
“Bet no one did that.” She pouted.
“So, Esme isn’t helpful. Why would we visit her?”
“She and Beth spoke. There’s another party. A Night in Paris. Actually in Paris —”
A knock sounded at the front door.
Amelia turned toward the door.
“Who’s that?”
Camden dropped the football and quickly opened an end-table drawer.
He pulled out a handgun and ammunition.
“Sit on the couch.”
Her heart slammed into her chest.
He crept to the window and peeked out the shade then quickly moved to the door.
He flattened himself to the wall and checked the peephole.
Nobody seemed to be out there, but he pressed his fingers to his lips and urged her to duck.
He checked the peephole again then glanced between the blinds of the closest window.
Finally, he cracked the door.
A loud noise exploded.
Smoke and chaos filled the entryway.
Camden slammed the door and deadbolted it before she could scream.
“Amelia. Here. Now.”
The balcony door at the back of the condo exploded open as if a SWAT team had bashed it in.
Smoke bombs clattered toward them.
Her eyes and throat burned.
“Camden!”
Amelia couldn’t see anything.
She tripped over the coffee table.
Heavy boot steps thundered toward them.
“Amelia.”
She crawled toward his voice.
His arm wrapped her to his chest. Gunfire exploded.
Bodies fell by their feet.
She screamed.
Camden grabbed her around the waist. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
She couldn’t see anything.
The smoke burned. Snot and tears covered her face.
The front door flung open, and a wave of fresh air smacked her.
The relief vanished with instantaneous pain, as though she’d run into a lightning bolt.
Shock. Pain. The jolt froze her muscles and killed her scream.
Everything went black.