No, this was the end of her stay at Riverside Oaks Villas. The name always felt like a cruel joke. It sounded more like some luxury condo for the snowbirds from Minnesota who spent the winters here.
With a resigned sigh, Hannah grabbed her things and stuffed what she could into a backpack. With Clyde on the prowl and Lord knows who else roaming around, a broken door was basically an invitation. She’d be safer sleeping in her car.
As she took one last glimpse around the room, she realized what was missing. Trina’s computer had been on her bed this morning when Hannah left. Why would someone break in and leave all the other things but steal her roommate’s ten-year-old Dell?
Hannah laid a hand back on her bag, reassuring herself that her own computer was still there.
She sent a text to Trina, letting her know about the break-in and that she was done. She’d even let her have anything else she left behind. Hannah wasn’t going to bring it with her into the next phase of her life.
She pulled the “Don’t Worry, Bee Happy” sign from the front door with a soft smile. She’d spent her last $5 on it at the dollar store, but it made her happy. Maybe she’d hang it on her office wall at KBC.
Hannah loaded her things into the car and pulled out her laptop. She asked Mr. Lloyd from KBC to call her as soon as possible to finalize everything. He’d seemed eager to meet, so maybe by this time tomorrow, she’d be on her way to her new job.
When Will answered his phone the next morning, Joey’s voice on the other end of the line was breathless. “Problem.”
They just got back from the gas station after getting coffee. They’d spent the entire night watching the apartment building, waiting for Melanie to show up. “What is it?”
“I’ve been monitoring the burner email. She’s got a meeting set in thirty minutes. Someone from KBC Florida.”
“Okay… that could be good right? We can intercept her before the meeting.”
“Well, maybe. But the problem isn’t that she has an appointment. It’s that she has a meeting with someone that I can’t verify even exists, let alone works at the Florida affiliate of KBC.”
“So it’s a trap?”
“That’s my guess,” Joey offered.
Options flitted through his mind. They could intercept her here and then try to make the meeting to catch the guy. But if she didn’t want to cooperate, it would blow their chance to use the meeting as an ambush.
Using her as bait didn’t sit right with him. “Does the email she sent out indicate her gender?”
Joey fumbled for an answer. “Ummm, I’m not sure. Let me check real quick.” Will held his breath. His plan would only work if the assassin didn’t know who he was meeting. A moment later, she answered. “She told them she’d be the woman with the red scarf at the cafe.”
Will growled in frustration. “Does the woman have a death wish?” He exhaled, thinking through his options. “Where’s the cafe? How much time do I have?”
“Umm, boss? Time’s up.”
Will’s eyes followed Tank’s thick finger toward Melanie’s car as it turned the corner toward them on the narrow street. “MOVE!”
On his word, the team poured out of the vehicle from both sides and ran toward Melanie. Will saw the startled panic on her face at the appearance of three huge men coming at her.
“Stop. Ms. Byers!” He yelled at her as the car accelerated faster than he would have guessed possible for a hooptie. “We need your–” He jumped out of the way as she attempted to run him over. “Help,” he finished lamely as she drove away. He was kicking himself. He should have tried a solo approach. Less threatening. He’d been so worried she would get away that he’d let her do just that.
“Are we going after her?” Tank asked in his signature gruff voice.
Will watched her whip around the corner, clearly running for her life.
He shook his head with a sigh. “No. She’s freaking out, and we’ll only scare her further. But we know where she’s headed. So, let’s just make sure we’ve got her back at this meeting.”
Melanie Byers had surprised him with her quick thinking. Most people instinctively froze when surrounded in a situation like that. But she’d nearly side-swiped him with her car.
Hopefully, her instincts proved just as reliable when she was in the crosshairs of the assassin.
CHAPTER
NINE
PRESENT DAY
He quickly ran his hands over Melanie’s arms and legs, making sure there were no other major injuries from the explosion. She was woozy, but her eyes were open. Glassy and emotionless, but open. He grabbed the medic bag from under the seat and poured some water on a gauze pad to clean up around the wound enough to see it better.
“Melanie, can you hear me?”
She turned toward him, just enough to let him know that she heard him. Confusion flashed over her face. “Who’s Melanie?”
Will frowned. She couldn’t remember her name? That wasn’t good.
Pierce turned on the car, and they took off. There was chatter on the radio between Tank and Pierce, but Will let them handle it all, keeping his focus on Melanie. They needed her.
And her video.
He glanced around, looking for the bag she’d been carrying.
“Stop the car,” he ordered. “Her bag. I didn’t grab her bag!” Will clenched his jaw in anger, all of it focused on himself. He’d been so concerned about getting Melanie out of the coffee shop that he’d totally forgotten the whole reason she was important.
Without that video, she was just a woman. She didn’t matter.
Except, as he watched her take in the scene around her with obvious signs of shock setting in, she did matter, and he couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just that she didn’t deserve all of this–a target on her back and her entire life thrown into chaos simply because she was in the wrong place at the right time.
“Tank?” he asked.
“I’m on it. I need a description.”
Will tried to remember what the bag looked like. “She was standing approximately twenty feet from the front entrance, directly opposite the display case. The bag is… brown, I think?”
Pierce spoke from the front seat. “Fabric or leather? Purse or backpack?”
Will answered the questions on the radio for Tank. “Brown leather. Backpack style.”
“On it. Local badges are almost here. I’ll do my best to get in.”
“Be careful, Tank.”
They drove for a bit, circling to avoid the emergency responders flooding the area and make sure no one was following them.
Twenty minutes later, they picked up Tank at a strip mall on the edge of the shopping district. He waited at the bus stop, brown leather bag in hand.
“Nice purse. Really goes with your shoes,” Pierce said through the rolled down window as they pulled up alongside the tiny shelter. There was an old lady on the other end of the bench, eyeing Tank rather suspiciously and clutching her own handbag to her chest as though he might swipe it.
Tank nodded at her and said, “Have a nice day, ma’am,” as he climbed into the SUV.