Page 11 of Locked and Loaded

“She hid behind some parked cars, and we couldn’t get to her without getting out of the car, which meant we would get caught,” the man explained in a thick Russian accent. “We tried to drive her down the sidewalk toward the car we had waiting, but she did not go in the correct direction.”

“She managed that all on her own? I thought you were a highly trained operative. You let a glorified accountant beat you?”

The man growled, “There was a man with her. He saved her, pulled her behind the cars. Without him, she would have run like we wanted. By the time she did move, it was too late, and we had to let her go or get caught.”

The mastermind’s fingers curled into a ball, and her mouth went into a hard line. “Who is this man? What does he want with her?”

“I do not know. I didn’t recognize him.”

“Do you have a picture?” It had to be one of the Society’s security team. Was it Ryker or Fletcher? Her lip curled at the thought.

“Ya, I grabbed pictures and video clips from the hotel security feed. I am sending it to you now.”

A chime announced the arrival of the email. The mastermind opened it and stared at the screen. She had no idea who this man was. She watched the video clip. The man was handsome and obviously knew what he was doing. Definitely well-trained. Military, possibly, by his bearing.

“Find out who he is and take care of him along with Lennox Crowe. She is asking too many questions and not doing what we need. Get the information we sent her back—” she broke off as a thought hit her. They didn’t really need Lennox Crowe alive for the information to come out. They just needed a female body to pretend to be Crowe and give the information to the press.

“Get the information back as well as the damned picture she has, then kill her. Let me know when it’s done.” She smacked the button to end the call. Crowe was now a total liability. Nothing could happen before the last event. That was where the Lock and Key Society would finally be dragged into the light. Oh, how she would enjoy watching all the cockroaches run for cover. However, it would be too late for them to save themselves. But she only had a week.

She hit another number. “I need a girl. One who looks like Lennox Crowe. American accent. Someone who can pose as Crowe.”

“When do you need her?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Soon. Tomorrow.” There was no need to wait since they were no longer going to use the real Crowe. She wanted this to release just after the event. It would be the icing on the cake. Controlling every interaction suited her much better. “Let me know,” she said and hung up.

A small smile played on her lips. Yes, this was a much better plan.

CHAPTER FIVE

Lennox worked her way through the souk, careful to walk in a twisting path that would be hard as hell to follow. She avoided the shop where she bought the clothes since it was likely the kid who had given her up. So much for not telling anyone.

She crossed Jemaa el-Fnaa, Marrakech’s main square in the city, and tried to control her shaking hands. Up until now, this experience had almost been entertaining. Not her sister, of course, but the men following her. She’d been able to identify them quickly and had made a game of evading them. But they’d find her again. She’d done it a few times now, playing mouse to their cat. But the bullets outside the Royal Mansour had been real. Someone was trying to kill her. That brought everything to a whole new level, one she hadn’t been prepared for. A mistake she wouldn’t make again.

The fact that the guy from the souk had the hotel security grab her was another unexpected event. Who was he and how did he fit into all this? He didn’t seem like the men who’d been following her. He was more…well, just more. Bigger. Slicker. More intimidating.

The way he’d shoved her down behind the SUV wheels, while she’d been flat-footed, staring at the bullet holes, had been impressive. He hadn’t missed a beat. He was damn fine looking as well, not that she was paying attention, but if she were, he would have been a twelve on a one-to-ten scale of sexiness. Something about the way he moved with total confidence and control. Even as angry as she had been to be his prisoner, he was a sight to behold. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to behold it again. But she wasn’t counting on it. A man like that didn’t just suddenly stop looking.

Lennox circled the block one more time and then worked her way back to her small, crappy hotel. Hotel Hell, she’d nicknamed it. She had wanted to be low-key, but the hotel was beyond a dive. As long as she was rating things on a scale of one to ten for how bad this place sucked, this hotel would be in negative numbers. She only unzipped her suitcase to get clothing out and immediately closed it again. She’d kept it on the bed since she didn’t trust whatever might be crawling on the floor. It had been a nightmare, but she wasn’t one to give up. The water was never warm, which, in this heat, wasn’t a problem, but it never really ran clear either.

Out of caution, she’d bought two light blankets, one she put over the bedspread and pillow and the other she put over herself, although since the only air conditioning was a fan and she slept with her clothes on, it wasn’t like she needed it.

Lennox flopped down on the bed. It had been a hell of a day, but it wasn’t over yet. She needed to get out of Morocco. Italy was the goal. She picked up her phone and started searching for flights. She glanced at her watch. It was already late afternoon. She couldn’t find a direct flight to any of the major cities in Italy.

She chewed on her lip. She could go non-direct, but that meant traveling through Paris or Amsterdam or even London. None of which really made sense. Then there was the idea that they might be looking for her at the airports. Who knew if they’d know she was heading out of town? She wasn’t sure, but after today they would have to consider it at the very least. No one who gets shot at wants to stick around.

Maybe it was better to drive somewhere else and catch a flight from there. Or maybe it was better altogether to take the ferry over to Spain or even hire a boat to take her.

She pursed her lips. Her brain was exhausted and the idea of going out there again today just seemed overwhelming. But she couldn’t ignore the insistent urge to go immediately. She chided herself for even considering not moving now, but as she got to her feet, she swayed and had to sit back down again.

Grabbing the bottle of water off the nightstand, she took a long drink. Maybe it was dehydration, but more likely the exhaustion of her search and the adrenaline crash from today’s events conspired to make her ill. She needed to take a break. A small nap. Then she would figure out the best way out of here. After plugging in her phone, she settled back on her blanket on the lumpy bed and fell asleep.

Lennox opened her eyes. They felt like someone had put sandpaper in place of her eyelids. Her lips were dry, and she struggled to lick them. The room was beyond hot. What the hell time was it? She glanced at her phone. One o’clock.

She blinked. Her stomach growled. Nothing would be open now to get something to eat. She closed her eyes and then immediately opened them again. Wait. It was light outside. The room was bright because the blinds were broken and let in the light.

Sitting up, she looked at her phone again. Was it really one p.m? She’d slept for eighteen hours? And not even well. She remembered waking several times in the night with the comings and goings of the other hotel guests. If she’d slept for eighteen hours, how come she still felt so damn crappy?

Grabbing her phone, she pulled up ferry schedules for Spain. The busiest one was from Tangier. That seemed like the best option. She did the calculation in her head. First, she had to rent a car, call it an hour. The drive would take five and a half to six hours at the best of times, but with traffic around Casablanca or Rabat, realistically she wouldn’t get there until after nine. And then she’d have to return the rental car and get to the ferry. The idea of taking a late-night ferry to Spain with men chasing her did not appeal. It could be downright dangerous.