“That’s what I’d like to know.” Eve snapped the drawer shut, blew the bangs out of her face, and reached for the drawer to her right. “She called late last night and asked me to cover for her for a few days. God Almighty, all I want is freakin’ ink for the printer.” She shoved the drawer closed, rose, and moved to a cabinet along the wall.
Jake stepped farther into the room as he watched Eve rifle through Marley’s supply closet. “She didn’t tell me she was leaving. Where did she go?”
“Hell if I know.” Eve’s head disappeared inside the cabinet. “There. Finally. Of course it’s way in the back.” She reemerged with a box of cartridges. “I feel like I just struck oil.” She swiped at her forehead. “And, Christ, I’m sweating.” She waved the box at Jake and moved back for Marley’s chair. “You both owe me big time.”
A low hum kicked up in Jake’s ears as Eve sat, swiveled toward the printer, replaced the cartridge, then whipped back to the computer and started typing. “What exactly did Marley say?”
Eve didn’t bother to look his direction. “Just that she had a personal family situation she needed to deal with and that she was taking a few days off.”
“I’m done with this.”
That hum intensified, and Jake’s hands grew damp. Marley never took time off. In all the years she’d worked for him, she’d only taken two weeks off total. And then only when he’d insisted that she needed a break. She was forever worried someone would screw up her filing system or mismanage an op for the guys or that the place was going to fall apart without her. So the fact she’d up and vanished, with no advance warning, didn’t just strike him as odd, it told him something was seriously wrong.
He stepped closer to the desk. “Did she say when she’d be back?”
Eve’s fingers stilled on the keyboard, and she shot him a frustrated look. “It’s not like she left me a schedule. I’m not her personal secretary, you know.” She held up a finger. “And I’m not your personal secretary either, so don’t get any funny ideas.” She resumed typing. “This is only temporary. I suck at office work, as you will soon find out. Archer should be doing this shit. Not me.”
The buzz grew to a screaming roar in Jake’s ears. He turned out of Marley’s office and headed back for his. After flipping on his computer, he sat behind his desk and stared at the screen.
Where would she go? And why hadn’t she told him she was leaving? Was she off pouting somewhere because of what had happened yesterday? What kind of personal situation would make her drop everything and disappear with no warning?
He tugged the cell out of his pocket and dialed. He knew there was a chance Olivia Miller wasn’t at work yet, but he hoped maybe she could give him some insight. Luckily, she picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, Jake. You’re up early this morning. Are you calling to talk to Landon? He should be on his way in to the office already.”
Landon Miller, Olivia’s new husband, was a former DIA officer and one of Jake’s best operatives, but this had nothing to do with Landon. “Hey there, Olivia. No, I was actually calling to speak with you. Are you at work yet?”
“Yep, just got here. What’s up?”
Olivia had recently started working as a trainer at Omega Intel, Marley’s father’s security company in Lexington. “Is Marley there by any chance?”
“No, not that I’m aware. Is she supposed to be?”
Jake sort of hoped so, because if she was in Lexington with her dad it would make his life a helluva lot easier. Something in his gut, though, told him his life was about to get way more complicated. “What about Mason? Is he around?”
“Yeah, I just spoke with him five minutes ago. He’s in a meeting with a client. Do you need to talk to him?”
“No.” Not yet, anyway. “So everything’s normal over there? No family drama going on?”
“I don’t think so. Everything’s the same as it always is. What’s up, Jake? Why are you asking these questions? Is everything okay?”
Jake hesitated. If there was nothing going on with Marley’s dad, it meant her so-called personal situation didn’t have anything to do with family. Marley didn’t have any other family. And that meant she’d lied to Eve. His worry kicked up another notch.
“Everything’s fine, don’t worry. Thanks, Olivia.”
“Jake—”
Jake hit End on his cell and pushed the intercom button on his desk phone. Eve answered with a huff. “I’m working, Ryder. Wilson’s secretary needs a full invoice before she heads to India in like five flippin’ minutes, and I only just found the damn file.”
“I need you to hack into Marley’s credit cards. Business and personal. I want to know where she’s using them.”
“Oh my God. Are you freakin’ losing it? You can’t just track an employee’s credit cards because she took the day off. That’s illegal.”
“We do illegal shit ten times a day, Wolfe, and you know it. Marley never takes time off. Something’s going on here.”
“Well, gee. If you flip out like this on a normal basis, I can totally see why she cut and ran without telling you. In fact, I’m surprised she didn’t do it sooner.”
Jake’s jaw ticked. “Just do it.”
He hung up and stared at his computer screen again. Eve was right. He was bordering on losing it, but Jake didn’t care. Marley’s words from yesterday wouldn’t leave his head. “I’m done with this.” Done how? He had to know where she was. Why she’d left. When she was coming back.
He sat forward and opened a web browser. After typing in his cell phone carrier, he logged into Aegis’s account and searched for Marley’s number. He paid her cell phone bill. This wasn’t an invasion of privacy. It was business. He pulled up her recent activity.
She’d called Eve late last night. A number he didn’t recognize in Memphis. And his cell several times yesterday. None of her outgoing calls looked suspicious. He flipped screens to see her incoming calls. Another number he didn’t recognize sat at the top of the list. He followed the line across the screen to see the location of origin: South America.
An odd tingle slid down his spine. He sat back in his chair and stared at the screen, confusion drawing his brows together. His intercom buzzed.
Leaning forward, he pushed the button while he continued to stare at the screen. “What did you find?”
“She went to REI yesterday,” Eve answered. “Bought new hiking boots, a backpack, a canteen, energy chews, and matches among other things. Sorry to ruin your conspiracy theory there, Alex Jones. Looks like she took off camping. The world is not about to end.”
“Call the airport. I want to know if my plane is still in the hangar.”
“Jake, seriously? She didn’t take your stupid plane. She went camping. Leave the poor girl alone. Employees are allowed to take vacation days, even from misers like you.”
“Call the damn airport, Eve.”
He released the intercom button, but he could still hear Eve bitching through the open office doors. Ignoring her, he paged back up to the top of the screen, then stilled when he saw Marley’s cell phone plan.
International.
Her plan was domestic. She didn’t travel overseas like the rest of the crew. On the rare instance she had to travel for Aegis, she changed her plan. But she always changed it back as soon as she was home to save the company a little money even though Jake told her not to worry about it.
International. South America. I’m done with this . . .
A hard, tight ball of worry rolled through his belly as he pushed out of his chair and headed for Marley’s office. One that mixed with the sudden fear coursing through his veins. Fear he did not need to be feeling right now.
“Okay, thanks,” Eve said into the phone. She replaced the receiver in the cradle and looked up as he entered the room.
“Well?” He stopped in front of her desk.
“You were right.” Eve pushed to her feet. “Your plane’s gone.”
Sonofabitch. “The pilots had to file a flight plan. Where did she go?”
Eve pursed her lips. “You’re not going to like this.”
“Where, Eve?”
She blew out a long breath. “Colombia. South America.”
Marley swiped the damp hair away from her face and tapped her palm against the desk bell. She was sweaty, tired, and in serious need of a drink, but she was also desperate to see Ronan. And she didn’t want to give him any reason to leave by being late.
A chubby Colombian man who had to be in his sixties rushed out from a back room. Fans turned lazy circles above the lobby of the Hotel Chilimaco, but it did little to ease the oppressively humid heat. Late afternoon sunlight streamed across the white tile floor, warming the room even more.
“¡Buenas tardes, señorita! ¿Le puedo ayudar?”
“Buenas tardes. Tengo una reservación.”
“Muy bien,” the man said. “You American?”
“Yes.” Marley dropped her backpack on the ground at her feet. “Sophia Alvarez.”
“Welcome to Puerto Asis.” The man opened a book and scanned a series of handwritten names. “Ah, sí. Here it is.”
He reached for a key from a series of hooks along the wall behind him while Marley fished out cash from her pocket. After she paid for the night, she hefted her backpack onto her shoulder, scanned the small empty lobby again that housed a couch, a couple of tables and chairs, and the oldest TV she’d ever seen. “I was supposed to meet someone here. Tall guy, American, dark blond hair, sharp blue eyes. Has he checked in yet?”
The man’s eyes narrowed as if he were thinking. “I not sure. I check.” He turned into the back room. Muffled voices echoed, but Marley couldn’t make out the words. Moments later, the man returned and said, “US military, right?”
You could take a guy out of the army, but you couldn’t change the way he carried himself. The clerk had obviously met his fair share of soldiers and recognized Ronan’s type. “Yes.”
“He register this morning. Asked about cantina.” The man pointed toward the open doors that led out to the street. “Check outside.”
Marley palmed the key on the desk. Of course Ronan had found a bar. She could always count on him to find the worst dive bar in the area.
“Gracias,” she said as she turned for the stairs that led to the rooms. “I appreciate your help.”
The room was nothing special. A double bed with a lime-green comforter, scuffed nightstand and side chair, and pink stucco walls. A freeway motel in the States, but down here, probably high-end luxury. After dropping her gear on the bed, she freshened up, grabbed her key and some cash, and headed out to find Ronan.
The first three cantinas were busts. Too nice, too clean, and filled with people who were way too normal. The minute she walked up to the fourth, though, she knew she’d hit the jackpot.
The tiny cantina sat on a side street off the beaten path. Litter was pushed up along the sidewalk outside, heavy smoke seeped from the open door, and raucous laughter echoed from inside. As she stepped through the doorway and paused to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light, she heard Jake’s voice in the back of her head telling her she was being supremely stupid by not only traveling to Colombia alone, but walking into a place like this by herself. But she ignored it. Just as she’d ignored every other time her conscience had taken on Jake’s voice as she’d been planning and executing this trip.
Conversation died down the minute she stepped into the room, and every patron turned to look her way. A trio of hardened, fifty-something Latino men sat at a small table. Two soldiers decked out in military green from head to toe with automatic weapons slung over their backs were bellied up to the bar. A kid who looked no more than twelve moved around behind the counter filling drinks.
There wasn’t a single female in the room. And the way every man stared at her as if she were fresh meat made the hairs on her neck stand straight with both fear and doubt.
A voice cleared to her left. Marley glanced in that direction, then exhaled a long breath when she saw the figure sitting in the shadows, his hand wrapped around a glass on the table, his bright-blue eyes narrowed on her.
The fear slid to the wayside. She ignored the attention from the other men in the bar, headed toward the corner, then stopped in front of his table. “Couldn’t just pick a normal restaurant, could you?”
Ronan Hamilton lifted the whiskey in his hand and took a sip. Ice clinked in the inch of amber liquid as he set the glass back down. “Nope.”
Marley pulled out a chair and sat across from him. “When did you get here?”
He didn’t move from his position—kicked back in his seat, head tipped to the side, eyes sharp and assessing as he glanced toward the door. “Late last night.”
“That was fast.”
The kid behind the bar moved up on Marley’s right. He held a dishtowel in one hand, and an apron was tied around his waist. Startled, Marley looked up. This close she could see he was older than she’d originally thought, but not by much. And the fact he stood there without saying anything creeped her out.
She held up one finger. “Uno cerveza.”
Ronan lifted his drink. “Otra para. Y uno, mi amigo.”
The kid turned and left. In the silence, Ronan lifted his glass and threw back the rest of his drink. “I was in Cartagena when you called.”
“The call said Memphis.”
He shrugged. “I have my calls rerouted. Not smart to let too many people know where I am at any one time.”
Marley nodded. She knew the way he worked. Here one day, gone the next. What the clerk at the hotel had missed was the fact he was former military and spent most of his life flying under the radar.
She studied him across the table. A dark-blond beard covered his jaw. He’d added a new scar along the right side of his temple since the last time she’d seen him, but other than that he looked the same. Dressed in jeans, boots, and a khaki button-down that was rolled at his forearms and damp around the collar, it was easy to see he was still as big and muscular as always. Still hard and edgy from his travels. And his striking blue eyes were tinged with an element of danger she remembered from the first time they’d met. But though a rational thinking woman would be scared, or, at the very least, intimidated by him, Marley wasn’t. Because she knew he wasn’t at all what people thought. And the fact he’d dropped everything to rush here and help her only confirmed that belief.
“Guess I got lucky, then.”
The bartender set her beer and two glasses of whiskey on the table, then left.
Ronan huffed and reached for his new drink. “You’re on the edge of the jungle, sweetheart. Nothing lucky about that.”
Marley lifted her drink and took a long swallow. “I can hold my own, don’t worry about me.”
Ronan’s brow ticked up as he brought the glass to his lips. “I don’t doubt that. Does your father know you’re down here?”
Marley didn’t want to talk about Mason Addison, at least not with Ronan. She lowered her beer. “No, this doesn’t concern him.”
“What about that boss of yours? He know you’re getting ready to tromp through the jungle?”
Marley thought of Jake. He’d throw a complete hissy fit if he knew she’d not only come to Columbia, but taken his plane to do it, but she only mildly cared. If Jake fired her, so be it. It was probably time for her to move on anyway.
“No, and this doesn’t concern him either.” She folded her elbows on the table. “This is personal.”
Ronan took another sip of his drink and lowered the glass with a clink. “In my experience, personal can get you killed. Especially in a place like this.”
Marley hoped the hell not. She didn’t want to die for this. But she did owe Gray her help.
; Ronan finally shifted in his seat and sat forward. “So tell me about this McKnight character. I never liked the look of the sonofabitch, but I want to know just what the hell your father did to the guy and why he’s down here. And then I want you to tell me how you’re involved.”
Marley tightened her fingers around the beer bottle. “You’re not going to like the answers.”
“Tough shit, missy. Start talking.”
Jake raked a hand through his hair and eyed the fifth and final hotel on his list across the dark street. If Marley wasn’t here, he wasn’t sure what his next move would be. She hadn’t responded to his calls, hadn’t checked in to any of the local hotels under her name, hadn’t used her credit card since she’d landed in Colombia, and she hadn’t made any calls from her cell. He knew she was still in Puerto Asis because he’d finally gotten a hold of Tony Hughes, the pilot who’d flown her to Columbia. Tony was currently hunkered down in a hotel near the airport awaiting Marley’s instructions, but he didn’t know where she’d gone, and at the moment, she wasn’t answering Tony’s calls either. Jake knew if Marley left the city before he found her, he’d wind up chasing her through the jungle, and right now, he did not have the patience to play her little game. Or to deal with the fallout.
He moved into the lobby, swiped his forearm over his sweaty brow, and stepped up to the reception desk. A portly Latino man emerged from the back room and lifted his hand. “¡Buenas noches, señor! ¿Le puedo ayudar?”
Shit. Today was one of those days he really wished he hadn’t been flirting with Misty Swanson all through his high school Spanish class and had actually paid attention. “Buenas noches. Habla Inglés?”
“Sí, sí.”
“Thank God,” Jake muttered. He pulled a photo from his pocket and held it up. “I’m looking for this woman. Have you seen her?”
“You are American?”
“Yes. She is as well. I just need to know if she’s been here.”
The man chewed on his lip while he studied the picture. “Sí, but she not here now.”
If Marley had been here, that was a start. Hopefully she’d be back. He slid the picture into his back pocket. “Is she staying here?”