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He leaned down, his lips near her ear, sending shivers of fear racing across her neck.
“You don’t.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Insidetheconferenceroomat Dìleas, tension stifled the air, making it hard for Ryder to draw in a full breath. Hushed voices and frantic keyboard clicks were a stark contrast to the sunny Sunday afternoon outside the windows.
Nathan sat at the table in a black Megadeath t-shirt, banging away on his laptop. Lachlan stood by the windows, his white button-up rolled at the sleeves, talking into his mobile. Sophia brought in a tray of coffee and sandwiches and placed them in the center of the table, still dressed in the long-sleeved black and purple floral dress she’d worn to church. Caleb stood at the whiteboard mounted on the dove gray wall, writing down any information they got.
Ryder stared at the framed photographs of landmarks in DC, Paris, and London that hung on the walls and cursed the helplessness ripping him in two.
A soft hand rubbed his shoulder. He turned to find Sophia’s warm hazel eyes filled with concern. “I got ahold of Don Lambert. Angie’s parents are on their way to the hospital. He said to please call him the minute we learn anything about Nathalie.”
Ryder nodded, his throat too tight to speak. Every second without answers chipped away another piece of his heart. Pretty soon, there’d be nothing in his chest but an empty cavity.
Danny barreled into the room. “I finally got the car rental company to give me answers. The Explorer was rented two weeks ago to a Robert Jones from England.”
“That’s the same alias Hadley gave Angie,” Ryder gritted out.
“I’m running checks on every database I can get into for both Robert Jones and Foster Hadley,” Nathan said. His enormous hands flew with an unexpected grace over the compact keyboard.
Lachlan hung up and joined Ryder. “I’ve sent Hadley’s photo to Lucas Caldwell. He’s notified local and federal law enforcement agencies to watch for Hadley, Nathalie, and Angie Perez’s car.”
“He’s got to have stashed Nathalie somewhere until he gets the remaining source code for her software design.” Ryder paced to the window and stared down with unseeing eyes at the Alexandria streetscape. She was out there, somewhere close by, needing him. “The question is, what does he do with Nathalie once he gets what he wants?”
“I got a hit.” Everyone in the room turned at Nathan’s exclamation. “Reservation for a Robert Jones at an extended stay hotel in Tysons Corner.”
Ryder hurried to peer over Nathan’s shoulder at the computer screen. “The address?”
Nathan tapped a key, then swore. “Son of a bitch. He checked out yesterday.”
“Keep looking,” Lachlan muttered.
Ryder couldn’t be in this room another minute, sitting on his hands, waiting for information to fall into his lap. He needed to be out there, looking for her. “I’m heading back to Nathalie’s.”
“We’ll call you the second we find anything,” Lachlan told him. He wrapped his hand around Ryder’s arm when Ryder went to leave. “Don’t rush off and do anything stupid, pal. We save Nathalie as a team.”
Ryder didn’t answer.
He couldn’t make that promise.
“Boss.” Caleb appeared next to him, moving with the silent speed of a trained special forces soldier. His dark eyes were knowing. “Lachlan’s right. We’re a team. We have your six.”
Caleb was a good mate. Ryder glanced back into the conference room. They all were—Lachlan, Sophia, Nathan, Caleb, and Danny.
But if he got the chance to be in a room alone with Hadley, he’d take it.
“I know.” He clapped Caleb on the shoulder.
On the drive back to Nathalie’s, he replayed the events of the past few days. Hadley had been toying with him, leaving clues related to Ryder’s hated nickname from the military.
Somewhere along the way, this had become personal for his former SAS teammate.
Ring me up, you bloody bastard. Give me an opening to find you.
North Washington Street shifted from office buildings and townhomes to a tree-lined, divided George Washington Parkway. Ryder edged the bulky SUV past the speed limit. “Read my messages,” he instructed the voice assistant on his mobile. Anything to distract him from the impotent feeling grinding his nerves.
“Nathalie Williams sent you an email,” the female voice intoned in a British accent.