Page 14 of Locked and Loaded

The young waiter had brought the other couple champagne.

Lennox’s heart hammered against her rib cage.

Yesterday had been tough. First, trying to get information out of Katya about her sister. That had been stressful beyond belief. She was so grateful that Katya had told her the little that she knew. It was the first solid lead, actual lead, she had on her sister rather than just vague bits people had been telling her.

And then getting caught on the way out and being held by that man. What was his name? If they said it, she’d blocked it out. She’d like to block him out, although if she was being honest, that was damn hard to do. Normally, size was a huge turnoff, but he was also incredibly good-looking, and didn’t that suck?

Whatever.

It didn’t matter. Hopefully, she would never see him again. But now she had to worry about who was shooting at her. That was a new twist she hadn’t been prepared for.

She took another sip of her mocktail, then pulled her notebook out of the bag she had brought up with her and grabbed a pen. She flipped open the first page and started reading. These were all her notes on everything she had found out about her sister.

If someone was trying to kill her, it had to be because of something she had heard or something she knew. Or maybe it was just because she was asking questions. But that had to mean she was getting somewhere, didn’t it? The fact that people were getting nervous and wanted her stopped was progress, wasn’t it?

The more she thought about it, the more she realized maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised they were shooting at her. She had thought of herself as just poking around, trying to find her sister, but maybe there were much more sinister things going on. Maybe that was why people were willing to risk calling attention to her.

Whatever the reason, it wasn’t going to stop her. Not unless they were successful.

And she would try damn hard to make sure that did not happen.

CHAPTER SIX

Dragan cursed under his breath as he made his way through Jemaa el-Fnaa square. The heat was excruciating and exhausting, and his jaw ached from grinding his teeth. He’d spent the night searching for Lennox but had gotten nowhere.

He was having a hard time hanging on to his temper after losing Lennox in the shootout. It was stupid of him. Sloppy was a better word. He should have known they would shoot at her. They. How he was supposed to anticipate that they would shoot at her when he wasn’t sure who they were was beyond him. He cursed. As annoying as that fact was, it didn’t change that it had been a serious tactical error and the only person to blame was himself. He didn’t have to know who the enemy was; he just had to know they existed, and that should have been enough to anticipate the eventuality that they might be ready to kill Lennox Crowe.

He wove his way through the crowd and then down one of the narrow alleys before finding his way into the little coffee shop. He sat down, ordered an Arabic coffee and a bottle of water, then pulled out his phone and made a call.

Armand Fontaine didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Any success?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Dragan admitted. “I had her, and then we were ambushed and taking fire. She escaped.”

“Shot at? By whom?” Fontaine asked.

Dragan grunted. “I’m not sure. If I had to guess, it’s whoever’s behind this, but I can’t even be sure of that. Lennox seems to have ruffled a lot of feathers.” He used her first name, which was not typical with the jobs he was given, but somehow he just thought of her as Lennox, the spitfire. Crafty and braver than was wise.

“I see,” Armand said. “And how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Pissed off,” Dragan admitted. “I should’ve anticipated it.”

Armand corrected him. “My friend, you cannot anticipate everything. The good news is you survived, and so did she. Take the win.”

“Easier said than done.” Dragan tried to shrug it off, but it was like a splinter under his skin, not painful but annoying beyond belief. He hated that Lennox was out there on her own with the shooters on the loose.

“What are your next steps?” Armand asked.

Dragan nodded to the waiter who delivered his coffee and water.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I have to track her down. I had gotten lucky before, but it seems my luck has run out. I don’t think she’s going to be as easy to find this time.”

“Leave it with me. I have some friends I can call.”

Dragan hated that he was behind the eight ball on this. Hated it with a passion. He did not like to fail. “Save your friends for now. Let me talk to the person she had been talking to when I found her. See if I can dig up what’s really going on. If I can’t track her down, then I’ll give you a call. I have a feeling we might want bigger favors down the road where your friends will be needed.”

“Okay, mon ami. Be very careful. There are obviously other players in this game who seem to have a grudge against the Society. Until we know exactly what they want, proceed carefully.”

“Will do,” Dragan said and clicked off the call. He took a sip of his coffee. He didn’t know why it rankled him so much that Lennox Crowe had escaped. In the past, others had escaped. He just caught them again. But there was something about her.