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She climbed the stairs into the loft and pulled a backpack off the top shelf of her closet and threw a couple changes of clothes into it. She had to go to her father’s estate and see for herself. It would take her too many hours to get to the island. If she could even get on a flight.
“Damn,” she muttered. She couldn’t wait that long. She sat on the bed and picked up the phone again.
Her dad had assured her it was untraceable, but suddenly she wasn’t so sure. If Dad was in trouble, what else might be wrong?
She called the direct line of Josh Cameron, her old team leader and an associate of her father’s in the National Counter-Terrorism Agency—known to everyone as the CTA—her teeth gnawing away her patience as she waited for him to answer.
“Cameron, here.” His tone was tight, which meant he had a stranglehold on his nerves. Something was going down.
“Cameron, what do you know about my father?” She didn’t bother to identify herself or waste time on pleasantries.
He paused. Another thing he’d always done whenever he needed a moment to choose his words carefully. Damn. She stood, pacing back and forth, quickly covering the length of the small room. “Tell me.”
“I’m not sure yet. We haven’t been able to get hold of him.”
Her stomach flip-flopped like a flapjack on a hot griddle. She was used to being alone, she liked being alone, because she knew her dad was always there—her back-up, her protector, her confidant. Nothing could happen to him.
But it had.
She took a deep breath to squelch the panic rising within her. She couldn’t lose him, too. Not after her mother and Becca, and—Kyle.
“Trust me,” Cameron said. “We’re looking into it.”
Trust me? She almost laughed out loud.
She was the daughter of the ex-director of the most secretive agency in the U.S. Government. Lies and deception were the name of the game. She’d learned a long time ago that trust was not a word to bat around easily. Trust was something to be earned, to be valued.
To be lost.
Embrace who you are, but never reveal. Never trust. Her father’s words whispered through her mind, reminding her that by calling Cameron she’d made a rash decision based on emotion, and rash decisions could get her killed.
She didn’t trust Cameron. She didn’t trust anyone. Not after what had happened to her sister.
“You need to come in, Genie. Let us protect you,” Cameron said. “At least until we can get a handle on what’s happening.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I can protect myself.”
“That’s what your father thought and look where that has gotten him?”
“What aren’t you saying, Cameron?”
“Genie, don’t be stubborn.”
“That doesn’t sound like an answer.”
Silence filled the line.
She wasn’t going to get anywhere with him. She never had. “Just let me know if you hear something, okay?”
“Genie.” His voice hardened.
Out of the corner of her eye, out her bedroom window, she saw another dust cloud rising in the distance. She stopped dead in her tracks, spun to the window and grabbed the high-powered binoculars off the wall. “Cameron, someone’s coming and this time it’s not the UPS man.”
“What do you see?” he snapped.
“A convoy. Three black SUVs. Yours?” This time she hoped they were his.
“No. Hang tight. I’ll get you out of there.”
