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She inhaled sharply. He was suggesting James was working with the Iron Fist? What a preposterous idea. “During the first assault, I broke an attacker’s nose. He never showed up to any emergency room in the state.” She crossed her arms over herchest. “Maybe because his FBI contact set him up in an off-the-books clinic like this one.”
“Or he drove to Louisiana.” Vincent brushed off her suggestion like an annoying pest. “We don’t have much time, Agent. Let’s stick to what’s important.”
He pointed to the objects on the table, which were the sum total of all the possessions she was allowed to take from her old life to her new one. Her mother’s engagement ring, Ellie’s original birth certificate, and the bracelet Lena had given her. “With two separate gangs hunting you down, what was so important you risked going back to your house for it?”
Ellie’s mouth flattened into a thin line. Trusting Vincent was a risk. For all she knew, he could be the mole. But her options were limited. With a sigh, she pulled out the bracelet Lena had given her. It was silver with a lock charm and a cross. Grief rose unexpectedly, constricting her throat. She swallowed it down. “Two weeks before she was shot, Lena gave me this for my birthday. I thought it might be important.”
Vincent nodded. “Go on.”
Ellie examined the charms and noted, for the first time, that the lock appeared to have a crease on the side. Using the edge of her fingernail, she popped the charm open.
A piece of paper fell out.
Vincent snatched it from the table before Ellie could grab it. He unrolled the tiny slip and squinted. “Bestfriends422315730.” He glanced at her. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.” Disappointment burned, but she shoved it away and quickly committed the message to memory.
Oh Lena, what kind of treasure hunt have you sent me on?
“Do you know where the evidence is?” Vincent pressed.
“No.”
He scrutinized her, eyes flat and assessing. Then he tucked the paper and the bracelet into his pocket before checking hiswatch. “Ranger Perez should be done with his IV antibiotics by now. Agent Tanner and I will drive you back to his ranch.”
Vincent scribbled a number on the back of a business card and slipped it into the protective sleeve with her things. “If you find the evidence or figure out what this message from Lena means, call me at that number.”
Ellie reached for the sleeve, but Vincent didn’t release it. He locked eyes with her. “You and I have never gotten along, Agent Conway, but I need you to trust that we’re on the same team. Call me. No one else. Understood?”
Anxiety churned in her belly, but she returned his stare and lied easily. “I will.”
Vincent eyed her suspiciously, as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her, but he released his grip on the sleeve. As she followed him out of the room, it felt like a thousand-pound weight settled on her shoulders. He wasn’t helping her out of kindness. He was using her to find the evidence.
But why? For his own purposes? He’d always been ambitious, and taking down the Iron Fist would be a prime feather in his cap. Or was he the mole? If she contacted him the moment she got her hands on the evidence, he could hand it over to the Iron Fist and report back to the FBI that this was a wild goose hunt.
She couldn’t trust him. The only person she could trust was Daniel.
And that was more true today than ever.
Vincent stepped aside to speak to a doctor, pointing toward a room on the left. Ellie quickened her steps, shoving all her confusion aside, and focused on getting to Daniel. She heard him from the hallway. His tone was demanding and authoritative. “I don’t care if you think I need more antibiotics. Get this IV out of me before I rip it out myself and hunt through every room of this place for Ellie. I’m done being patient.”
She pushed open the door. Daniel was standing in the center of the room, an IV line stretching behind him. His hair was wild, his expression thunderous as he glared at Mike and a nurse. His right pants leg had been sliced mid-thigh and a thick bandage stretched down to his knee. He looked battle-weary and furious, but he was whole. Alive. She couldn’t stop the tears from pricking her eyes.
“Don’t yell at the nurse.” Ellie marched inside and straight up to Daniel. She caught a flash of relief on his face before she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest in a hug. “You’re being a bad patient.”
His embrace was immediate. Daniel breathed in deep, his fingers tangling in her hair. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. I wasn’t the one who got shot.” She pulled back and then directed him to the bed. “Sit down and listen to the nurse so we can get out of here. I want to see Owen.”
Now more than ever, she wanted to hold her son in her arms. Protect him. With the FBI in the picture, things had grown more complicated. More unsettled.
More dangerous.
Daniel’s injury was a physical reminder of all her worst fears.
If she didn’t find the evidence soon, none of them might survive.
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