Page 20 of Deadly Hope (Hope Landing: New Recruits #2)

The next morning, Olivia sat at the cabin’s kitchen counter, her client files spread before her like a complicated puzzle.

Each sticky note represented a life, a trust she couldn’t breach, even in crisis.

She’d been making calls since dawn, coordinating with trusted colleagues to ensure her patients wouldn’t lose momentum in their treatment.

Fresh snow blanketed the valley outside, transforming the safehouse’s sweeping view into an untouched canvas of white and blue.

She cradled her second cappuccino—perfectly crafted, complete with a leaf design in the foam that suggested Axel’s hidden talents extended well beyond tactical operations.

The accompanying cranberry-orange muffins, still warm from the oven, had surprised her even more.

Apparently, the big security specialist stress-baked.

She shifted her phone to her other ear, stretching muscles tight from tension.

Three hours of calls down, at least that many to go.

“No, Lisa, I completely understand.” Olivia kept her voice steady, professional, though her free hand kneaded the tension at her neck.

“If you’re okay with it, Dr. Leipheimer will have full access to your files, and she’s excellent with combat-related trauma.

Just temporary coverage until—” She caught herself before saying ‘until this is over.’ “Until I’m back in the office. ”

Not that she had any idea when that would be. Each call felt like admitting defeat, even though she knew ensuring continuity of care was the responsible choice. Her patients needed stability, not a therapist who couldn’t guarantee her own safety, let alone theirs.

Across the great room, Zara’s array of laptops cast a blue glow over her intent expression.

The cyber specialist hadn’t moved from her command center all morning, fingers flying over multiple keyboards while lines of code reflected in her glasses.

Behind her, Kenji had transformed the dining table into an analyst’s dream, screens displaying surveillance footage alongside complex pattern recognition software.

Axel moved between them like a shadow, coordinating through his earpiece in that clipped, efficient language she was starting to recognize as mission-speak.

But she didn’t miss how his gaze regularly swept the perimeter, lingering on the tree line, the access road, the deceptively peaceful morning landscape that could hide any number of threats.

“Yes, I’ll call as soon as—” Olivia broke off as Zara suddenly straightened, her posture screaming alert. “Lisa, I need to go. I’ll check back with you soon. You’re in good hands with Dr. Leipheimer.” She ended the call just as Zara’s voice cut through the room’s focused quiet.

“Got something. Multiple somethings, actually.” Her tone made everyone stop what they were doing. “And you’re really going to want to see this.”

Axel was already moving toward her station, his hand brushing Olivia’s shoulder as she rose to join them. The casual contact felt steadying, though she wasn’t ready to examine why .

“Show me,” he said, and Zara’s main screen filled with scrolling data that made Olivia’s breath catch in her throat.

There, amid the technical readouts and timestamps, was her brother’s name. On a bank account. Three years after he died.

“These aren’t random hits.” Zara enlarged the data stream. “Someone’s been pinging your brother’s bank account. Sophisticated. Professional. Like they’re searching for something specific.”

Ronan, who’d been quiet all morning, pushed away from his observation post by the windows. “Show me the timing.”

Data points highlighted across the screen. Ronan paced, muttering numbers under his breath. “Tenth ... Thirtieth ... Tenth ... Thirtieth ...”

“Every month.” Kenji confirmed, pulling up his own analysis. “Like clockwork. Since a year after—” He stopped, glancing at Olivia.

“His death,” she finished, voice hollow. The room went still.

Axel snapped his fingers suddenly, the sharp sound making them all jump. “Ten-thirty.” His expression hardened. “It’s not a date pattern. It’s a code.”

Ronan stopped pacing.

“Old school distress signal,” Axel added. “Danger.”

The revelation sucked every bit of strength from her legs.

Axel guided her to a chair, his touch professional but grounding. She barely felt it through the roaring in her ears. For three years she’d tried to come to grips with James’s suicide. Now this—proof that someone from his world had been trying to get her attention.

Warning her about what?

The thought sent ice through her veins. James had always said if you couldn’t spot the threat, you were probably standing right in the middle of it .

The team exchanged looks that carried volumes of unspoken communication. Finally, Axel crouched beside her chair, his voice careful. “Tell us about his last days.”

The memories rose like smoke—James pacing her office. Agitated. Paranoid. “He was ... different. Kept checking the windows, asking about my military clients.” She swallowed. “I thought it was PTSD. Should have known better. He was special forces, trained to?—”

“To hide it better,” Axel finished. “What else?”

“He was found in his car.” The words came mechanically now, clinical. “Gun in hand. No note. They said ...” She frowned. “They said military protocol required immediate cremation. I never even ...”

“Never saw the body,” Zara murmured, fingers flying over keys. “Kenji, cross-reference the ping origins with?—”

“Already on it.”

Axel’s hand tightened fractionally on the chair. “Is there any chance your brother was trying to warn you about something specific?”

She started to say no, then stopped. Remembered his last visit. The way he’d gripped her shoulders. Some cases, Liv. Some trauma patterns. Promise me you’ll be careful with those files.

Olivia’s hands shook as memories crystallized. “The last time I saw him ... he was so specific about certain cases. Trauma patterns that didn’t quite fit standard PTSD profiles.”

“What kind of patterns?” Axel’s voice remained steady, but his posture had shifted to high alert.

“Gaps in memory. Selective dissociation that ...” She stopped, blood running cold. “That matched classified mission parameters. Oh no. The key.”

“What key?” Several voices asked at once.

“James gave me a key. Made me promise to keep it safe. I didn’t understand—he was so intense about it. Said if anything happened to him ...” Her voice cracked. “It’s in the wooden box. The one they knocked over in my condo.”

“We need that key.” Ronan’s announcement was immediate.

“She’s not going,” Axel’s response was equally quick.

Kenji was already pulling up weather radar. “Major system moving in. Two hours, tops, before the passes are completely snowed in.”

Axel stared out at the snow. “We’ll have to wait. Roads will be chaos with the storm coming. Perfect cover for an ambush.”

“That key could be exactly what they’re looking for,” she argued, standing. “We have to?—”

“Which is precisely why we’re not walking into a tactical nightmare.” Axel’s jaw set. “Multiple hostile elements, limited visibility, compromised location?—”

Conditions their enemies would have to face as well. “Hostile elements who could be retrieving that key while we sit here arguing,” she countered.

“Olivia’s right,” Zara murmured, not looking up from her screens. “If they’ve decoded the same pattern we have ...”

“Then they can wait out the storm too,” Axel cut in. “We’re not risking?—”

Ronan rubbed his hands over his face. “Getting caught in a ground chase with hostile vehicles in a snowstorm would be monumentally stupid.” Then he grinned, like sun breaking out through the clouds. “Good thing I have a better plan.”

Axel gaped at the other man, then groaned. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”