Page 43 of Locked and Loaded

“Oui. We are seeking an artist. But one with a soul of ice.” Armand puffed on his cigar. “I fear that this is connected to the other nasty business. The one that got Archer killed.”

Dragan raised his eyebrows. “I thought they apprehended the people behind that. Didn’t I hear it had something to do with a Ponzi scheme and Austin Davis was involved?”

“It is true, but my friend, do you really think there are two human trafficking rings operating at this level of sophistication? These are not street-level mafia thugs. No, mon ami, these people are ruthless and smart and well connected. There cannot possibly be two.”

“That puts a fresh spin on things.” Dragan settled against the back of his chair. “Do you have any idea who is involved?”

“I have a few. I have people in place watching Davis’s friends. I will get to the bottom of this. At the moment it is all muddled, but we will make it clear. I have faith.” He puffed on his cigar. “How is Ms. Crowe?”

“She’s…okay. She still doesn’t trust me, which magnifies the danger she is in. I’m quite sure she thinks she can escape and then find her sister on her own. She wouldn’t make it twenty-four hours before the men after her catch up with her. These men play for keeps.”

“Ah yes. She has been on her own for a while and gotten this far. It will be hard for her to believe she cannot get farther on her own.”

Dragan frowned. “Actually, can I send you the information on the men following her? There’s one I can’t seem to identify. I also have no idea how they came to work together. I can’t identify a common denominator.”

“These men, you think they are hired by the person behind this?” he asked, pointing to the papers on his desk again.

“It’s the only explanation I have. It’s the one that makes the most sense.”

“Oui,” Armand said in agreement. “Mais, pourquoi? If they are trying to frame the Society, would they want Ms. Crowe dead? This file says they want her to chase these leads and then tell this reporter about them. Why suddenly do they want her dead?”

Dragan stared at the screen, mulling over Armand’s question. Why would they want her dead? He closed his eyes and ran through everything he knew, reviewed everything that happened. He opened his eyes and sat forward on his chair. “They weren’t trying to kill her.”

“What?” Armand asked, looking startled.

“At the Royal Mansour. They weren’t trying to kill Lennox. They were trying to drive her.” Dragan’s heart thumped against his rib cage. How could he have been so stupid? He’d missed it entirely. “They shot next to us when we left the hotel. They had a clear shot, and they missed. They wanted her to run down the sidewalk, but I put her behind the tire of the SUV. They didn’t shoot her when she ran; they shot above her head. They shot at the curb when I tried to move, blocking me.”

“But,” Armand started, “where did they want her to go?”

“They wanted her to run down the sidewalk, but I delayed her. They must have had someone waiting with the idea of grabbing her. But by the time she got there, sirens were close, and people were paying attention. Or maybe she ran the wrong way. Maybe they wanted her to go to the right, and she went left. Either way, my being there threw off the whole setup, and they didn’t succeed in grabbing her.”

“Mon ami,” Armand frowned, “if that were the case, then why would they want to grab her? If they want her to spread this false story they are creating, why kidnap Lennox Crowe?”

“Because nothing sells a story more than personal experience.” Dragan had to rein in the flash of rage that ran through him. “If they kidnapped her and then let her ‘overhear’ conversations about the Society and the human trafficking ring, then she would be convinced. If they made it so she could escape, then she would, hands down, believe the story and sell it to the police, the reporter, and to anyone else who would listen.”

“Comme c’est diabolique!” Armand nodded. “And then the Society would be destroyed. Clever.” His eyes narrowed. “Do you think they were trying to kidnap her last night?”

Dragan cocked his head. “I’m not sure. I didn’t get that vibe. I thought for sure they wanted to kill her, but I didn’t let them get close enough to find out.”

“Don’t.” Armand leaned forward again in his chair. “Don’t let her out of your sight, mon ami. They are playing a very dangerous game, and Ms. Crowe could easily end up hurt. Or worse.”

Dragan didn’t need the warning. He knew it in his bones. It was more imperative now than ever that he kept Lennox safe.

The sound of another phone ringing came through the video call.

“I must go,” Armand said. “Keep me informed.” The screen went dead.

Dragan was startled when his phone went off again. He checked the screen and answered. “What’s up, Mick? Don’t you sleep?”

“Funny. I’m working on your stuff, but if you want me to sleep…”

“Ha,” Dragan said in response. “What do you have for me?”

“Nothing new on the four men, but you had asked me to look into Nikolai Rostov and his girlfriend, Katya Ivanova.”

“Yeah, did you find anything interesting?” Dragan’s mind was still on his conversation with Armand and the new line of thinking, so he was completely taken aback by Mick’s next words.

“They’re both dead.”