“Did she have her case?”
I run my eyes to where I saw her case against the wall. Despite the image being in my head, with my eyes closed, I might as well still be in the hotel room. “Yes, it was open with the back half leaned up against the wall by the bathroom.”
“Where was her phone?”
Her phone. Did I see her phone? The image grows wispy in my head. I’m overthinking and tainting my memory. I shake my head, open my eyes, and frown at Aiden. “It’s gone.”
“Close your eyes again,” Aiden commands. I do as he asks.“Tiger, get in there and barricade both of you inside. Don’t come out until I tell you it’s safe.”He growls in a similar tense voice as he used yesterday. The words are a little off, but the sentiment puts me straight back in the hotel suite. I see myself hustle to the room and barricade the door. I turn and there it is at the bottom of the bed, thrown down lazily. Her blush-pink case with dangling charms is unmistakable.
“On the bed. The phone was on the bed. The charger was plugged in near the dressing table.”
“So, she had access to it?” Aiden asks.
“Perhaps not. He might have used it or gone through it,” Dax argues.
“But he didn’t take it with him. She had opportunities to get that phone and call for help,” Aiden fires back.
“Unless she was drugged,” Dax defends.
“True.”
“There’s also the possibility that she entered into this consensually,” I offer, my voice quiet as I try to let my thoughts take shape in my head. She seemed surprised to see me there. She fought tooth and nail to get out of that room and save‘him,’but what if she didn’t mean the bodyguard? What if she meant the guy in the towel? The sexy lingerie sitting on top of her case suggests a planned rendezvous. The chance that he was sleeping in her bedand showering in her bathroom…Damn, did we just barge in on her and a boyfriend? “What if she was there to meet the guy in the towel? Did we make a mistake?”
“No, Connor was beaten six shades of fucked up and broken bones. Why would they do that if it was just a planned hookup?” Dax reasons.
“Then was she catfished? Didn’t realise who she was involved with?” I try.
“Possible,” Aiden agrees.
Another thought occurs to me. “Do either of you know if she’s on the pill?” The pair of shocked faces staring back at me would be amusing if it weren’t sad. “Contraception. You know she uses sex as an outlet. Have either of you taken the time to make sure she has access to contraception, regular sexual health screening? Anything?”
“We assumed she…” Dax begins.
“Doesn’t she arrange for that herself?” Aiden asks Dax.
I fight the urge to bang their heads together. “Does she even know how, given that you’re all the examples of adults she has? What about your housekeeper?”
“Mrs Grainger? I have no idea.” Dax shrugs sheepishly.
“Get one of the team to offer her all the above. No rape kit. Just sexual healthcare. Tell her she can book privately if she’d rather keep it discrete. Give her a few options of reliable clinics. Tell them to suggest she can ask someone to go with her.” I snap out orders. How could they have gone so long without making sure she was safe?
Aiden nods to Dax, who calls it in immediately. “Good thinking.”
I want to tell them they seriously dropped the ball on that one, but I continue with my line of thought, so they understand. “If it was consensual, or if Sylvie has feelings for that guy, however misplaced, she’ll not want to get him in trouble, but she needs to take care of herself. Do you know who he is?”
Dax is the one who answers, disconnecting the call to the trauma team. “A rich trust fund kid from the Heights. Too fucking old for Sylvie. He must have got a call out somewhere between us nicking his leg with a bullet and the team arriving. The police escorted him straight back to his father; Judge Chisholm, who we’ve had run-ins with before.” I know exactly who that is, but I don’t want to break my chain of thought by chasing a memory.
It seems strange that he sneaked a call out while Aiden stood over him and Dax’s guys retrieved the other one. They were under watch the whole time. They weren’t left alone for a second. The only person afforded privacy was Sylvie. Did she put out the call? She had the opportunity to do it when I slipped out to check on Aiden. No. Surely not? Regardless, the team will check her calls in and out.
“What about the guy you’re holding?” I ask instead, determined to get as much of a picture as I can while these two are being so forthcoming.
“Craven,” Dax offers.
He says it as if I should know what that means. “Craven?”
“A death dealer. Works for Franz,” Aiden explains.
“Then thisdoescome back to Franz and me.”
