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He wanted to shake away his words, as if by speaking them, he’d manifested his very fears.
“Don’t you trust my judgment?”
His chest burned with the memory of his next words…
“You’re just so…”
“Naïve? Stupid?”
“Independent!”
He closed his eyes.
“You okay, bro?” Fraser said beside him.
He sighed. Opened them. “I will be, if we find Shae.”
“You’ll find her,” Fraser said. “You two always find a way.”
Maybe he was referring to their last great, terrifying adventure—a race through the Bob Wilderness in Montana four years ago when a murderer had tried to track down Shae.
They’d survived, but just barely.
“I should have proposed then.” His jaw ground. “Instead, I focused on my Navy career, becoming a SEAL, and I left her to wait in limbo.”
“She’s hardly waited around, Ned. She’s built her own career. Didn’t she recently have a gig somewhere in Europe taking photos for an ad campaign?”
“Yeah. I think she was in Brighton, or maybe Lauchtenland.”
Fraser glanced at him. “Lauchtenland? That’s where Pippa is from.”
Pippa, as in the bodyguard for Princess Imani, the royal currently holed up at the Marshall family home. The same Pippa that Fraser seemed to have something going with, given the way she’d kissed him goodbye last night.
“Huh. Small world,” Ned said.
They’d entered the city now, the suburban neighborhoods with their quaint red roofs giving over to office buildings and apartment houses, all sandwiched next to each other. It reminded him a lot of Amsterdam, or maybe Berlin, or any number of the historical cities of Europe.
“I think they’re having some big sporting event there. International. Shae said something about taking pictures of a stadium along with local tourist attractions.”
The car had pulled up to the curb next to a five-story building—no balconies, closed shops on the first floor. From his surveillance, he knew a small drive led to a courtyard in back.
They got out and headed toward the building as if they belonged there.
The Uber drove away, and Fraser stopped in the arched tunnel that led to the back. Put a hand on Ned’s shoulder. “Take a breath.”
“Are you telling me to brace myself?” Ned shrugged off Fraser’s grip.
“Maybe.”
“Fear not, that’s all I’ve been doing since…” He swallowed. “She has to be alive, Fraser. She—” Yeah, maybebreathewas exactly the right command.
“Let’s go.” Fraser turned and headed toward the courtyard.
Here, all the apartments hosted balconies, and a thick drainpipe from the roof snaked down at the corners of the building.
Hansi’s apartment was fourth story up, two balconies in from the corner.
Fraser pulled out his gloves, a hat, and then worked on his pack and cinched it down. Ned did the same.
