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Shooting the mercenary a scowl, Graham watched as the man gave an apologetic shrug before uncrossing his arms and bracing his hands on the top of the bureau where he rested.
The look in his eye reminded Graham of the warning he’d given before Lyrica had entered the office earlier.
He was hiding her. He kept her in the house behind closed doors and carefully darkened windows. There hadn’t been so much as a sighting of her since the night of the wreck.
Weariness and worry had lined Dawg’s and Natches’s faces as they’d pointed out the same thing that morning while Lyrica slept.
He was keeping her hidden. Whoever had the contract up for her was waiting to see where she was, evidently in no hurry at all. That meant it was someone close. Someone who wouldn’t seem out of place over a long period of time.
“We need a plan now,” Tracker growled. “It concerns me that the contract hasn’t been rescinded, yet he hasn’t replied to my message, either. It’s time, Graham.”
“Like hell . . .”
“I know him.”
“I agree with Tracker,” Elijah said as Lyrica’s soft statement had Graham looking back at her as she turned to him.
Lifting his hand in a gesture of silence, he glimpsed Lyrica’s pale face and wide emerald green eyes.
“What did you say?” His gaze went to the picture she was holding, the photograph shuddering from her trembling grip.
“I know him,” she said again, her voice soft, fear shadowing it. “I didn’t see this picture the other day. Why didn’t I see it then?”
Tracker and Elijah moved to the desk as Graham took it from her, frowning down at it.
“Because I wasn’t aware this one was in there,” he muttered.
Frowning, he flipped the picture over, checking the identification number on the back quickly before he began shuffling through the reports.
“That was a late arrival from Doogan.” Elijah stared at the picture of the soldier standing with Betts Laren. “Check the back of the file for the report. I don’t recognize him.”
“I do.” The statement had them stilling, staring back at Lyrica in surprise as her voice sharpened. “I do know him. He’s been at the inn several times. I’ve fixed his breakfast. I even told him about my favorite places to shop when he asked so he could tell his fiancée the best places to go.”
“Who is he?” Graham had never seen him. He hadn’t been part of Betts’s group in Afghanistan, nor part of Betts’s team.
“Kevin Davis,” she said softly. “He’s engaged to one of Mom’s long-term guests, Carmina Lucient. He was there for a few days last month before returning to Iraq for the end of his tour. He’s not supposed to be back until sometime next month.”
“Here’s the report.” Graham narrowed his eyes on the official information that had accompanied the picture. “Kevin Davis, he was actually assigned to Betts’s team and should have been with her on that last mission. There’s nothing here that states he wasn’t there. He was assumed killed in action when he didn’t return. He hasn’t been seen since.”
“Bingo,” Elijah growled.
“Trained in tactical warfare, a Ranger. Laren had him pulled the year before she was killed for the team she put together. He also has ties to the commander, Jimmy Dorne, if I remember that file myself,” Tracker murmured. “A distant blood relation, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Third cousin.” Graham read the information from the file. “Dorne’s parents raised him, though, after his own were killed.”
“Do you think Carmina’s involved?” Lyrica whispered then, suddenly terrified. “She’s there with Mom, Graham. They’ve been best friends since Carmina arrived.”
“I’ll call Timothy and Dawg,” Elijah stated, flipping his phone out and heading for the far corner of the room.
“I’ll head out, apprise the team, and get back with you tonight. We’ll see what kind of plan we can come up with to draw him out then.” Tracker headed for the door as well.
Lyrica moved quickly to her feet, turning to Graham. He could see the demand in her eyes.
“No!” He cut her off before she could speak. “Elijah will contact Timothy and Dawg. They’ll get your mother out of the house and somewhere safe while they watch Ms. Lucient. You’re not going.”
“He’s waiting for me to show myself,” she retorted, rubbing at her arms as though to warm them. “Get Mom out of the house and I’ll go in. If Carmina is in on it, then you can catch her in the act of calling him.”
“It’s too damned dangerous.” His guts were clenching, cramping with awareness of the danger she would face.
