Page 7
Oz stood frozen as the ramifications rippled through him.
Fuck. That meant Ayla wouldn’t be safe because there was no way Ivanov’s men were going to believe she wasn’t her sister.
Depending on what was going on, even sending Ayla back to the States wouldn’t guarantee her safety.
The Russian mobster operated in the US, too.
“What the hell is your sister involved in?” he growled.
Ayla stiffened. “My sister is not a criminal.” Her voice was as tight as her body. “My guess is she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Frowning, Oz set down her suitcase near the table, pushed his hair out of his face, and thought things through. It’s possible the sister overheard a conversation. Or took a picture of something the Russians didn’t want out there. Maybe?—
He cut off the speculation. The why didn’t matter. What mattered was Ayla was at risk.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s get out of the kitchen and sit down while we talk.”
Without waiting for agreement, he led her into the next room.
Oz didn’t need to hear the small sound of dismay Ayla made to know what she thought.
The dining room looked worse than the kitchen.
Horrible, peeling, dark red paint covered the floor.
Paint flaked from the walls. Then there was the table.
There were scrapes and scars all over the top.
It was large enough for the entire team to use simultaneously, but there were only two chairs—one at the head and the other at the foot—with benches providing the rest of the seating.
Oz steered her to one of the benches and sat in the chair, turning it to face her.
She looked tired and her face was pale, but it had been one hell of a day for her.
More strands of hair escaped from where she’d fastened it on the top of her head, and he had to curl his hands into fists to control the urge to nudge it out of her face.
The gesture was too intimate, which seemed odd considering the night they’d spent together.
After taking a deep breath, she leaned toward him. “Do you think this Ivanov person is holding my sister hostage? Like the drug lord who imprisoned the archaeologist you told me about earlier?”
“No, if they had your sister, they wouldn’t have tried to grab you today. But I guarantee you they’re looking for her.”
“Because they invaded my room?”
He nodded. “They were on you immediately.”
“How did they know what floor I was on, let alone which room?”
The question made it clear that she didn’t understand Puerto Jardin. “One of the men probably bribed the desk clerk before we even made it to the elevators.”
Her eyes widened, but she asked, “And they waited for you to leave?”
“My guess is they watched from the south stairwell, and as soon as I headed toward the elevators, they moved.”
“That’s why we used the stairs near the elevator,” she said slowly. “Because there could have been more Russians on the other side.”
She might not have any experience with this kind of shit, but she was smart enough to figure things out. He liked that. “I doubt there was anyone else, but why take chances?”
“They had someone watching the lobby, too, didn’t they?”
“That’s where they spotted you. It’s the only thing that makes sense with the timing of the invasion.
” A memory of the man reading the newspaper, the one with the expensive watch on his wrist, resurfaced.
Not Ivanov, but one of his top lieutenants?
Did BD and the team know that the Russian mob was back in town?
Ayla reached out and touched his knee briefly before quickly withdrawing her hand. “If the Russians don’t have Io, who does?”
Oz frowned, struggling against the heat her fingers left behind. It took a few seconds to refocus on the discussion. Why did she assume her sister was imprisoned? “Maybe no one has her. She could be in hiding.”
“Maybe,” Ayla agreed, but Oz got the sense she didn’t believe it. “Why did you call the men dumb and dumber? Why did you say the next team would be better?”
“Those men I fought in your room weren’t the most skilled and definitely not the best on Ivanov’s payroll. They waited till I left and viewed you as an easy grab.” That brought another question to mind. “Would your sister have put up a fight?”
Given what Ayla had already told him about Iona, it wasn’t a surprise to see her nod. “Io took some kind of martial arts class. I forget which one. She’s kept up with it and practices regularly. She’s nobody’s pushover.”
“And she’d probably cause some damage before she went down.”
It wasn’t a question, but Ayla answered, “I don’t know if she would go down. She’s smart, knows how to fight dirty, and she would only be trying to get away, not to arrest them or anything. It wouldn’t take total victory in that scenario.”
“It sounds as if they’re not familiar with Iona.”
The lack of knowledge about her increased the odds that Ayla’s theory of wrong place, wrong time was correct.
But the Paladin League. Oz ran a hand over his chin.
What were the chances that whatever department was in charge of the magazine mailed to donors had sent a photojournalist to Puerto Jardin?
There had to be other ruins in safer countries.
“Who do you think kidnapped my sister if it wasn’t the Russians?” Ayla asked again, yanking him out of his thoughts. “Give me some possibilities.”
“We still don’t know she’s been kidnapped.
” She simply stared at him, waiting. “Okay. We have drug lords, arms dealers, illegal miners, illegal loggers, smugglers, and relic thieves. Among others,” Oz tacked on and then kicked himself because Ayla looked stricken.
Quickly, he added, “But if she’s as smart as you say, she probably went into hiding.
That would be the best thing to do if she’s being hunted. ”
Ayla walked over to gaze out the windows. He didn’t need to give her a warning. The overgrown foliage blocked anyone from seeing in from a distance, and with the security they had around the house, no one was creeping up undetected to peer in.
“Io is in a lot of trouble, isn’t she?” Ayla turned her head to meet his gaze. “Don’t lie to me or sugarcoat it. I’m right, aren’t I?”
Getting to his feet, Oz closed the distance between them. “Yeah, my guess is she’s in deep shit if the Russians are looking for her.”
He didn’t think she could pale any farther, but Ayla managed it. She swayed. Oz took the last two steps to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist in case she was in danger of passing out again.
“I’m fine,” she said. The impatience in her voice told him she was okay, but he didn’t step back, and she didn’t pull away.
“What the hell?” a voice demanded from behind him.
Oz moved, his hand going toward his weapon, but stopped when he ID’d Baggs, the team’s new medic. He appeared angry, but as Baggs gaze settled on Ayla, his expression became puzzled and then evened out.
“What the fuck’s your problem, dude?” Oz asked.
“Sorry,” Baggs said, voice polite. “I didn’t expect to walk in and find a woman in the house. I apologize for scaring you, ma’am.”
“Who is that?” Ayla asked, taking a step forward to stand beside him.
“Ayla, this is Baggs. He’s a friend of mine. Baggs, this is Ayla.” He didn’t tack on a claim to her, but Oz issued the warning with his posture and his tone of voice.
Baggs nodded when he heard the name. “Ayla. Nice to meet you.” He looked at Oz. “Has BD been introduced to her?” There was amusement in his teammate’s eyes, the anger completely gone.
Oz shook his head.
“Do you have a handle for her yet?” Baggs asked.
“I call her Pollita.” Baggs was right. They needed to use Ayla’s handle rather than risk exposing her given name, but he wasn’t sure how she would react to his entire team using his nickname for her.
With a grin, his teammate asked, “Little chickie? Are you okay with Pollita, ma’am?”
Ayla’s arm brushed against him as she shrugged. “It’s better than being called scrawny.”
“Yes, ma’am. Pollita it is.” Baggs looked back at Oz. “Why’s your woman in Puerto Jardin?”
The your woman told Oz the warning he’d given had been received. Some of the stiffness left his posture. “Her sister is in trouble. She’s down here to find her and get her home.”
All traces of humor disappeared from Baggs’s face. “What kind of trouble?” he asked, an intensity in the question.
“Ayla doesn’t know,” Oz said slowly. “All she knows is her sister needs help.”
Baggs nodded, and as Oz watched, his teammate took it down a few notches. “And you’re down here to look for her. Any ideas on where to start?”
Ayla stayed quiet and Oz debated before he said, “She was sent to photograph the ruins near San Isidro. You know, the ones where Lurch met Vargas a couple weeks back. There’s no guarantee, though, that she left Trujillo.”
“Basically, she could be anywhere in Puerto Jardin.”
“Why are you so interested in my sister?” Ayla didn’t hide her suspicion.
“Friends stick together,” Baggs said, inclining his head toward Oz. “If the Wizard is working with you, I’m going to do everything I can to help him.”
Ayla looked up at him and Oz nodded. There wasn’t one man on their team who wouldn’t rally to help another, and despite Baggs being new, he’d already proven he was a solid teammate. But something felt off.
Baggs shook his head and said, “I’m heading out to grab some food. You want me to bring back something for you and your woman?”
“Yeah, pick up a few butifarra sandwiches for us.”
“Will do.” Baggs turned but gave one more apology before leaving. “Sorry again, ma’am. I didn’t mean to make you uneasy.”
He went through the swinging door and an instant later, Oz heard the kitchen door open and then close. Ayla turned to him. “What’s a butifarra sandwich?”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7 (Reading here)
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40