How long ago was it that he’d designed every single detail of this room? Standing in the empty space, barking orders to the technical team and the construction workers. Had to be at least three years ago … before his parents disappeared.
He pushed away the thoughts and looked up at Bobby. “Where did everybody go?”
The only reason he’d taken a chance to come to the compound was because he’d watched on the security feeds as the other guys departed without the one team member he needed. This was his chance to get Bobby’s help without the others knowing.
“We got a lead on Jemma. Think she’s being held by Nomar Ortiz, Manny’s son, at a mansion on Rocket Island. They’regathering equipment and testing the SPSS’s before going over to rescue her tonight.”
“I thought Rocket Island was owned by the Pourciau’s,” Ike said, his mind grappling with memories of a life before he’d lost himself. The Palmchat Islands had strict rules on who could own land, limiting it to Palmchatters only. But there were no restrictions on setting up long-term leases to non-citizens for ridiculous number of years. There were several wealthy Europeans who had one-thousand-year leases on certain Outer Islands, pumping in revenue to the country and securing the property for their descendants for generations to come.
Ike fought the urge to join the team. His mind and body drawn to the mission, a desperate need to be part of the crew helping to rescue Jemma. But it was impossible, with his leg broken, confined to a wheelchair. Plus, he had important matters to tend to—finding more details about the bronze key.
“Property records indicate they leased it to an anonymous third party about ten years ago. Probably Ortiz,” Bobby explained. He walked over to stand in front of Ike, leaning against the table. “Kind of risky you coming up here, don’t you think? Now that we’ve unofficially started the team, it’s not unusual for Gabrielle or Serena to pop in unannounced. You know they both think we’re looking for you at their separate requests.”
“I heard,” Ike said, not worried about getting caught. Even if his sisters showed up, he’d have enough time to hide before they made their way inside.
“But of course, we won’t find you until you want to be found,” Bobby said, using air quotes around the word find. He held up a hand as he grabbed his cell phone from his pocket. Bobby frowned, then tossed it on the table.
Ike saw the face illuminated on the screen—his good friend, Remington Spade.
“Any reason why you’re ignoring a call from your wife?” Ike asked, still wrapping his mind around the fact that the love of Everett’s life was now married to Bobby. After what happened to Everett in Jamaica, he wasn’t surprised the man had pushed Remi away. But Remi turning to Bobby for solace and Bobby marrying her still struck him as … wrong.
“Because I have no plans of doing what she wants me to do,” Bobby said, tension in his words. “I can’t be some safe, boring IT consultant. I’m not built that way. All the nagging in the world isn’t going to change that.”
“But that’s what you made her believe, isn’t it? For her to marry you after being in a relationship with another man who had a dangerous career,” Ike said.
“Fuck you, Ike. You’re not supposed to choose sides between your friends,” Bobby said, his face flashing red.
“I’m not choosing sides, I’m stating facts. The Bobby I know never could’ve convinced Remi to marry him. The one whose dick was in a different woman’s mouth every weekend. The one who does side jobs for the PC-5 and hacks into governmental agency sites for the hell of it,” Ike said, then took a deep breath. “Tell me you’re not still that guy.”
“So what if I am,” Bobby admitted. “I was trying to help her through a difficult time in her life after Everett abandoned her. The next thing I know, I’m fucking head over heels in love. Is it my fault that Everett was too stupid to see the good thing he had?”
“No. But it is your fault to think she should want you to be the man you pretended to be for her. If you love her, you should be that man for her,” Ike said.
“I would if she loved me back,” Bobby said, then headed back to his computers.
Ike didn’t respond. The hurt in Bobby’s words said it all.
“You didn’t come all the way down here because you’re bored,” Bobby said. “What do you need?”
Ike chuckled, then maneuvered his wheelchair closer to Bobby. “This has to stay between the two of us.”
“Understood.”
Ike reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bronze key, then laid it on the table next to the keyboard. “I need to know what this key opens.”
Bobby picked up the key and turned it around between his fingers. “Has some clear markings on here, that should help. But the easiest way is for me to do a 3D scan and upload it to the database. Then I can do a global search for any hits and narrow down the possibilities.
Ike nodded. “How long is that going to take?”
Bobby shrugged, then said, “About five minutes.”
And he wasn’t wrong.
Five minutes later, the results of the search were definitive.
“The lettering here,” Bobby said, pointing to the almost worn away alphanumeric string, “is MKB4590. MKB is a reference to the Mountain Kingdom Bank located in a small African country called Lesotho. This bank has an exclusive clientele focusing on the diamond mining industry of the country. That key is to a safe deposit box at the bank,” Bobby said.
“A safe deposit box,” Ike repeated. The contents of the box could be related to his parents’ disappearance or could be information that Ava left for him. But he’d never told her about the Russians saying that his parents’ plane crashed in Lesotho. He hadn’t told anyone, which made this much more than a coincidence. “Any records on who opened up the safe deposit box?”
