Chapter 7 Woman Down #2
“Wear it.” He helped her into it.
“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ve got a .380 in my boot, but I’d feel better with a 9mm. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare hidden away in here, would you?”
Teddy unlocked his center console and removed a Glock. He dropped out the magazine, pulled the slide, and confirmed a bullet in the chamber. After inserting the loaded magazine, he offered it to her.
“Full mag, the chamber’s loaded,” he said.
“Yeah, I saw that,” she replied. “Thanks for this.”
With their weapons by their sides, they made their way to the front door.
Sydney rang the bell, knocked, then made a call. “I’m hoping she answers.”
When her friend didn’t answer the door or the call, Teddy said, “Let’s see if there’s a point of entry around back.”
Together, they made their way through the yard. The gate to the fence was wide open, same with the kitchen slider.
This isn’t good.
With their weapons drawn, she entered the home. He, close on her heels.
Every interior light was off, but the sun shone into the house with all the brilliance of a new day. He homed in on the trail of blood from the kitchen toward the front of the home.
“God, no,” Sydney blurted, her gaze jumping to his.
In the living room, a Black woman lay dead, a gun in her hand. Across the hall, in the dining room, lay a White man, also clutching a handgun.
A stifled wail poured from Sydney as she knelt by her friend. With gentle fingers, she felt Naomi’s neck, then closed her eyes. Bending close, she whispered into her ear, then kissed her forehead with a tenderness that sent a rush of emotion through him.
“Naomi’s gone.” As Sydney rose, vengeance blazed from her eyes. “That monster murdered my friend.”
He’d seen that look before. It was as if he was staring into the eyes of the devil himself. Her friend’s death had set off a chain reaction… starting with revenge.
Here we go.
SYDNEY
Sydney was gutted. Her heart had been shredded, but she had to fight off the grief and do her job. First, she needed to check on the man lying in a pool of his own blood in Naomi’s dining room.
But Tank was already there.
“No pulse,” Tank said, as Sydney hurried over.
The dead man stared up at her with vacant eyes. Sydney knew who he was. He had no facial hair, but he did have a layer of dark stubble covering his shaved head. He wore a light gray suit, pink dress shirt, no tie. His suit looked tailored, his shoes—buffed to a sheen—looked expensive.
“Domestic incident?” Tank asked.
The fury that filled every cell in her body flooded her with adrenaline. “No, she’s been hunting this monster for a while.”
Tank stood. “We need to clear the house.”
Together, they walked from room to room, checking closets, behind shower curtains, and under beds. Naomi and her killer were the only two there. As they returned to the first floor, Sydney’s phone rang.
She answered. “Come around back. We’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Seconds later, Sydney’s supervisor stood on the other side of the sliding glass door. After covering his feet in shoe covers, Lorne entered, glancing briefly at her costume and Tank’s oversized suit jacket covering most of it.
“Tank Santini, Lorne Cadance,” Sydney said on autopilot. As the men shook hands, Sydney said, “It’s him, and they’re both down.”
Lorne’s shoulders dropped. “Fuck, no.”
Sydney hurried down the hall, stopping in the foyer between the two rooms, Lorne close on her heels. To her surprise, he walked toward Naomi’s assailant. After eyeing the body, he returned to the foyer.
“Read me the texts she sent you,” Lorne said.
She offered Lorne her phone.
“I forgot my reading glasses,” he said. “Mr. Santini, can you wait outside?”
“No problem,” Tank replied.
“No,” Sydney said. “He stays. Tank cleared the house with me and he’s been very calming. Kept me from spinning out.”
“We have to follow protocol,” Lorne said.
“Protocol also calls for exceptions in extreme circumstances. I trust him, and you can too,” she replied.
Lorne started to object again, then said, “Just read the texts.”
“Naomi sent this at one-oh-five this morning,” Sydney said. “‘OMG, OMG, it’s him. I’m going to follow him.’ Her second text came in at two-thirty. It says, ‘I lost him on GW Pkwy. Going home.’”
Sydney’s heart was broken. She’d just lost a dear friend who’d been gunned down in cold blood by a ruthless predator.
“It’s Crafty Lamar,” Lorne said.
“The one who goes by Hollywood?” Sydney added. “But he doesn’t look anything like him.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Tank added.
She and Lorne whipped their heads in his direction.
“You know him?” Sydney asked.
“Just met the guy. My floor manager introduced him to me at my restaurant. She told me Hollywood was her new boyfriend, but he didn’t look like that.”
“What did he look like?” Lorne asked.
“Spiked, dark hair with blond tips, dark beard and ‘stache. He wore blue-framed prescription glasses. Everything about him looked a little too—
“Perfect,” Lorne said.
“Like he was trying too hard,” Tank replied. “He was damn good at changing up his looks.”
“That’s what made him so hard to find,” Sydney said. “But Naomi could see through his disguises.”
“She was genius when it came to that,” Lorne agreed.
A hatred Sydney had never felt made her blood boil. Her fingers curled into fists. “That leaves Number One and I’m gonna hunt—”
Lorne held up his hand. “Not so fast, Sydney. Either Crafty Lamar turned the tail and followed Naomi home, or a third person—maybe Number One—followed her here.” He glanced from her to Tank, then back to her. “What have you touched?”
“Too damn much,” Tank bit out.
Sydney provided Lorne with a brief rundown of how they’d entered the house, checked the vics’ pulses, then cleared the home.
“I need to call this in,” Lorne said. “The police, then the FBI will want in.” Lorne shook his head. “I wish you’d never come here.”
“I was worried about Naomi,” Sydney pushed back.
“You need to leave,” Lorne said, “and you were never here.”
“Did you find Naomi’s phone?” Lorne asked.
“We weren’t looking for it,” Sydney said.
Lorne vanished down the hall, returning a moment later.
“Crafty had it,” Lorne bit out. “Sydney, you need to go dark, get off the grid—”
“What?” Sydney blurted.
“We don’t know if he saw Naomi’s texts to you. She might have given you up—”
Sydney fisted her hands on her hips. “Sir, she would never have done that. There’s no way that scumbag broke her.”
Defiance raged through her. She refused to believe that her friend and fellow Special Op would cave. Naomi would have done exactly what Sydney would have done. Died before she’d given up the mission or anyone associated with it.
“I agree, but we don’t know what Crafty learned, especially if he got into her phone.” Lorne raked his fingers down his cheeks. “We don’t know if Number One was here, learned about you, and bolted, leaving Crafty to finish the job. I’ll have you relocated to another country—”
“That’s not happening,” Sydney ground out. “I’d been chasing Todd Petersen for—what—a year and a half? There’s no way I’m going into hiding, not when Number One is vulnerable—”
“Number One is extremely dangerous.” Lorne pulled his phone from his pocket. “Either you go into a safe house or you leave the country.”
“I’ll walk,” Sydney threatened.
“Sydney, please,” Lorne said. “That’s worse. I don’t want you out there on your own.”
She barked out a laugh. “I’ve been gone for months—on my own—all over the world. What’s the difference now?”
“Now, you might have a target on your back… a big one,” Lorne explained
The air was charged with angry energy. Sydney was not hiding. She was going to avenge her friend.
“Take a few days,” Lorne said. “Lay low, but not at home. Think about my offer. Let’s see if there’s any chatter, some new information we can dig up.”
“I’m going after King A and I will annihilate him.”
“My fear isn’t that you’ll find him,” Lorne said. “My fear is that he’ll take you out.”
“That would never happen,” she pushed back.
“I’m sure if you asked Naomi about Crafty, she would have said the same thing,” Lorne said. “Sydney, you need to exercise extreme caution going forward.”
After she and Tank shook Lorne’s hands, they left.
At his SUV, he opened the back door. “This is bulletproof, so you’ll be safe.”
“I’m not sitting in the back.”
He flicked his gaze up the street. “We gotta get outta here.”
She opened the front passenger door, climbed in.
“Wow, you are stubborn.” He got behind the wheel, started the engine. “I can offer you protection, but you gotta tell me what you do. Eyes wide open.”
“I can’t.”
“I won’t put others at risk.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.”
Yes, she was very attracted to him. Yes, she’d had the best evening. No, that did not entitle him to top-secret information.
“Sorry, Tank, I can’t discuss my job.”
“Clearly, it’s dangerous. Let me get you somewhere safe.”
When he was met with silence, he made a call, drove away. Seconds later, Greystone answered.
“What happened? It’s eight-thirty. You called a team meeting.”
“I need your help,” Tank said.
“Go.”
“Sydney is in danger. I can offer protection, but she won’t tell me what she does.”
“Hey,” Caroline said. “Is Sydney with you?”
“Hey, Car,” Sydney said.
“Bring her home,” Caroline said.
“That’s the one place her supervisor said she can’t go,” Tank pushed back.
“Hold two secs,” Caroline said.
Tank pulled over. When his gaze met Sydney’s, he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry for your loss. How are you holding up?”
“I had drinks with Naomi before I went to Lost Souls,” she said. “If I hadn’t met you there, I would have gone with her… and she wouldn’t be dead.”
“Or you’d both be dead.”
Rejecting that comment, she shook her head. “When I shoot, I don’t miss. And when I’m against the wall, I fight harder. I feel like she’d be alive if I’d made a different choice.”
“It’s not your fault. Blame yourself if it motivates you to find whoever this Number One is. But your friend was tough. She fought a strong fight, and she took out the person she’d been chasing.”
Sydney appreciated that he was trying to make her feel better. She was incredibly grateful he’d stayed with her, especially since he had his own agenda.
Is there more to Tank than he’s letting on?
As she stared into his eyes, she knew the answer.
Hell, yes.
“Sorry for the wait,” Grey said.
“You got a plan?” Tank asked.
“Sydney, Grey and I will pack some clothes for you,” Caroline said. “What else do you need?”
“My laptop,” Sydney replied. “And my pillows—”
“Sydney—” Caroline said.
Silence.
“Some makeup,” Sydney said. “A wig or two would be appreciated. Maybe just one or two pillows.”
Tank bit back a smile. “Where am I bringing her?”
“To the site,” Grey replied. “Watch your six.”
“Always do.” Tank ended the call.
“What site?” Sydney asked.
“Our top-secret one,” he replied.
Rarely did Sydney feel overwhelmed, but after seeing Naomi’s lifeless body, and confirming she’d taken out King A’s second, her head was spinning.
She clasped his hand. “Thank you.”
He gave her hand a tender squeeze. “I got you.”
In the marrow of her bones, she knew that to be true.