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The murmur of voices carried upstairs. He tossed Hailey’s pillow back on her bed, messed up the covers and dropped the knitted blanket on the foot of the bed. Then he dragged the other blanket to the guest room Ayala was supposed to occupy before she was poisoned at dinner and put it and the pillows back on the bed.
He clicked the door closed, made up the bed and got dressed just as Hailey led Porter upstairs.
He pressed his ear to the guest room door and heard Hailey’s voice. “I had a friend with me and he noticed a red dot on my forehead and pushed me down.”
“Where’s your...friend now?”
“He went home. You don’t need to talk to him, do you? He doesn’t know anything, and the cops already interviewed him last night.”
“The police took the bullet?”
“Dug it right out of the wall over here.”
The voices faded out to the point where Joe could just hear a word or two.
He paced the room while he waited, feeling ridiculous hiding out. Would Porter even know who he was? Recognize his name? He didn’t want to take any chances. Major Denver needed him active and engaged, not sidelined and reprimanded. So, for now he’d hide out like a thief in the night.
He walked past the bed for the hundredth time and kicked the cord connecting Ayala’s laptop to an outlet under the bed.
Finally, he heard the front door slam and Hailey’s footsteps on the stairs.
She tapped on the door. “Are you decent?”
He called back, “Does it matter?”
The door swung open, and Hailey stood on the threshold, one hand on her hip. “I was hoping you weren’t.”
He swooped toward her and kissed her mouth, just because he could. “How’d it go? Did you finally get Porter’s attention?”
“Oh, yeah.” She wrapped her hands around his waist and tucked her hands in his back pockets—probably because she could. “He figures it was a high-powered rifle, and this time, unlike the car on the sidewalk, whoever took aim at me had deadly intent.”
“No kidding. You told him about Ayala?”
“I did, and he’s taking that seriously, too. I also asked him to check on Naraj and if he’d heard anything from the UK about Andrew yet.”
“And?”
“The FBI was actually one step ahead of me. They’ve tried contacting Naraj, but nobody can find him.” She bit her lip and shook her head at him. “Don’t even say it.”
“What about Andrew Reese?”
“MI6 hasn’t contacted him yet, or at least the CIA hasn’t let Porter know anything about Andrew. I think Porter turned over the request to the CIA, so they’re looking into Andrew’s whereabouts.”
“Gotta love that cooperation between agencies. Do you see now why my teammates and I are taking the investigation of Denver into our own hands? We can’t get anyone to believe us about the conspiracy, even after what Cam and Asher uncovered.”
“I think I’m making some progress with Agent Porter, though. That sniper attack on me rattled him...and he’s not easily rattled.”
“The Fibbies tend to be a stoic bunch.” Joe ran a hand through his hair. “I need a shower if we’re going to head over to the hospital and pick up Ayala.”
“She won’t be discharged until later today, but let’s get breakfast and I have a few last-minute errands to run for the event.” Placing her hands against his chest, she whispered, “I’d offer to shower with you, but then we’d never get out of here.”
“God, I’m glad you’re safe.” He enfolded her in his arms.
“Thanks to you. I’m glad you accosted me on Fisherman’s Wharf. I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t.”
“Maybe you would’ve been safer.” He rested his chin on the top of her head. “Maybe they’re targeting you because of me. If you’d kept your head down, accepted that Marten had changed his mind about the meeting and had gone about your business as usual, you might not have ended up with a red laser beam on your forehead.”
She stepped back from him, and strands of her hair stuck to his chin, keeping them connected. “Don’t be dumb. Marten involved me the minute he contacted me when he got here, the minute he decided to leave me a key.”
