“Good.”
“What we want from you is simple. We just want you to make a phone call to her. We have a feeling we know who Graham Jordan hired to come after you—the man we think killed Bentley as well as Valentina Hall.”
“You don’t think he’s behind the murders himself?” Sienna asked because she simply couldn’t help herself. She really did like puzzles and mysteries. But more than anything, she wanted justice for Valentina.
“No.” Then the agent paused and seemed to weigh her next words. “At least not all of the murders. Jordan has gotten his hands dirty before so it’s possible he’s involved directly. Either way, definitely indirectly. We’re going to catch him, it’s just a matter of time.”
Sienna nodded, watching her carefully. Since she didn’t know anything about the agent, she was going to have to go on instinct with whether she trusted the other woman or not. Thankfully Carson’s presence was soothing, and when he gently squeezed her shoulder, she leaned farther into him, savoring his warmth.
“Like I was saying,” Agent Collins continued. “We just want you to make a phone call using a clone of your phone. We want our target to trace it to where Eileen is staying. We’ve got her set up in a safe house where we have eyes on her. We want to catch Jordan’s hired guy in the act. He works for money so we think he’ll flip on Jordan.”
“What if Jordan comes himself?” Sienna asked.
“Then we take him down and get him to flip on the guy he hired.”
“That’s it? You just want me to make a phone call?” That seemed too easy.
“Yes. You guys were tracked to that hotel using electronics, that much we know. So it stands to reason that the man he hired has the skills to track Eileen as well. She’s had her phone off, but he’ll be monitoring, waiting to find her.”
Sienna looked up at Carson. His jaw was clenched tight, but not as bad as before. “What do you think?” she asked.
He looked surprised, maybe that she’d asked him. “As long as you don’t screw anything up,” he said to Agent Collins, “then this is fine.”
“We just want this to be authentic. We have a script for what we want Ms. MacArthur to say to Eileen. She’s going to say she wants to meet up with Eileen—it won’t really be her,” she hurried out when Carson started to argue. “We’ve got a body double. We just need to get one of these men out in the open. From there we’re confident we’ll be able to bring both of them down with no more loss of life.”
“They’re really prepared,” Julian added, looking pointedly at Carson. “They know what they’re doing.”
Sienna knew sometimes different law enforcement agencies didn’t get along with each other, but it was pretty clear that Julian trusted the Feds. Or at least Agent Collins. If he did, then she was going to as well. “I’m in. I have no problem making a phone call. I want to bring down Valentina’s killer. She was such a good person.” A good mom. Sienna swallowed hard, pushing back the bubble of emotion that threatened to spill over. Now was definitely not the time.
“Okay, then. We’re ready to do this now,” Collins said. “I brought the clone with me. And I guarantee it won’t be traced here to you. It’ll ping off a nearby beach, making it look as if you called from a random stretch of white sand.”
“Let’s do this.” The sooner the Feds caught these monsters, the sooner everyone could go back to their lives.
Chapter 12
Sienna realized she was humming to herself as she scanned the takeout menu for the fancy barbecue restaurant at the bottom of this high-rise. Though fancy barbecue seemed like an oxymoron.
She didn’t care that she was humming and acting like, well, like she’d never been this dang happy before. Because being with Carson made her ridiculously happy. She wondered if maybe it was just that the situation they were in was intense, but no, she’d wanted him long before this. And she knew he’d wanted her too.
After calling Eileen and playing her part in all this, they hadn’t heard anything all day from Julian or the Feds and she was really, really trying not to stress out.
Sienna and Carson had of course had sex, then gone to the gym downstairs for an intense workout, and now Carson was in the shower. She’d insisted on him going first because she’d known he wouldn’t let her actually shower if she joined him. Plus she’d needed to cool down.
Picking up her cell phone, she’d started to call the restaurant when a very faint click reached her ears.
She froze, her fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. That was the front door opening.
There was no way to get out of the kitchen without revealing herself—unless she jumped over the countertop. Because the exit from the small kitchen was right into the hallway—which would give whoever had just broken in a full view of her. And a chance to shoot her if they were carrying.
Dropping the menu from cold fingers, she scrambled over the countertop, trying to be as quiet as possible.
At this point, stealth be damned, she just needed to get to her weapon. Which she had stupidly left in the bedroom.
Her bare feet were quiet against the tile as she raced down the short adjoining hallway to their bedroom. She would only have seconds and she was too afraid to call out to Carson. No, she needed to get the pistol first.
She pulled the weapon from the top drawer of the only dresser and started to hurry into the bathroom to warn him, but froze when she heard soft footsteps on the tile behind her.
Moving quickly, she backed up against the wall and, using the mirror from the dresser, watched as a man wearing a long-sleeved black T-shirt and a balaclava over his face—weapon up—strode down the hallway.
Blood rushed in her ears but she kept her eyes pinned on the target. He couldn’t have seen her yet.
She would only get one shot at this. And she had to make it count. She’d practiced shooting in a controlled environment but she’d never actually shot anyone before and could admit she was terrified.
As he drew nearer to the room, the shower stopped.
The gunman swept into the room, his body angled toward the open bathroom door.
Gripping the pistol tight, she felt as if she was having an out-of-body experience as she whipped around from behind the dresser, pistol up. “Drop your gun!” she screamed, way louder than she’d intended.
The man, with his weapon pointed directly into the bathroom, froze. His entire body was poised as he gave her the side-eye.
She could see it from his body language, no way was he dropping his weapon.
“Do it!” she shouted even as he started to turn toward her.
She fired on instinct. It was either him or her. Or Carson. Hell no!
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Glass shattered as he shot at her, his body jerking back as her bullets made contact.
“Duck!” Carson shouted.
She listened, crouching and lowering her weapon as Carson slammed into the guy, tackling him to the ground.
She was barely aware of moving as she jumped over the bed, kicking the man’s gun out of the way as Carson slammed his fist against the guy’s jaw with a sickening thud.
The guy slumped, his whole body going limp under the assault.