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The muscles in his jaw rigid, he looked away. “I think I went looking for support and I found it in the Navy. My brothers. They bolstered me, helped me to cope with the pain, but not the loss.” There was a tone of bone-tired weariness in his voice when he continued. “I haven’t told anyone about her because I didn’t want her to be judged.”
“That wouldn’t be fair. She had her own reasons for what she did. That’s not a reflection on you as her brother. You weren’t responsible for her life…or her death.” Kodiak gave her a bleak smile, then met her eyes, haunted by the pain of recollection. “That was out of your control and trying to control your emotions is counterproductive. I don’t know about Christianity, but as a Buddhist, we don’t condemn the person who dies by suicide. Our focus is on comforting the bereaved.”
“And have you looked for your sister since she disappeared?” he asked softly.
Kaiya was having a struggle of her own, but she sensed that Kodiak would never abandon her, that she was utterly safe with this man. “I have, but I haven’t been able to find her.” It was one of her greatest regrets, but she had begun to think maybe it wasn’t the right time to find her sister. Maybe she wasn’t in the right headspace.
“Perhaps she doesn’t want to be found.”
Trying to ease a breath past the awful constriction in her chest, Kaiya whispered jaggedly, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. With infinite tenderness, he smoothed his hand along her jaw, his touch firm and comforting. She smiled through her pain and her hope. “Perhaps. But tomorrow is always a new day.”
* * *
Alice’s handtensed on the wheel as she drove toward the gates of the American International School of Sydney with a killer in the seat beside her. He had on a long leather coat, an assault rifle hidden in the folds. He also had a sidearm, also hidden. Her mind was going a mile a minute. She didn’t want to do this, but he’d threatened people on the street and the guard at the gate. She didn’t know what she was going to do when it came down to it, but she wasn’t going to let him hurt anyone.
She pulled up to the gate and frowned. She didn’t recognize the security guard. Where was Charlie? He was nothing like Charlie. This man was drop-dead gorgeous and extremely physically fit. Charlie was balding with a paunch.
“Good morning, Mrs. Martin. How are you today?” An American? What was an American doing here? All of the security had been farmed out to Australian security forces.How did he know her name? What was going on?She swallowed hard and said, “Good morning.” She saw his name tag and added hastily, “Mr. Booth.”
He gave her a reassuring look and suddenly, her heart rate climbed.Did he know about the attack?
“Who do we have here?”
“This is Mr. Turner. He’s a new substitute teacher, and I’m helping him out.”
“I see.” He eyed Barry, his steely gaze coming back to her. “Well, since you vouched for him, I hope you both have a good day. Everyone’s inside,” he said in a way that made her feel even better.
“Thank you.” She put the car in gear and drove down the winding concrete drive to the circle that curled around the entrance, making it easy to drop off and pick up kids at the beginning and end of each day. There was a white Mercedes parked in front and she pulled up behind it.
The moment she stopped, she flung open the car door and started running for the entrance shouting. “He has guns! He has guns!”
She risked a glance behind her to see the passenger side of her car door open and the assault rifle swing free of his coat, but when it went off, the round discharged into the air. The security guard from the gate was wrestling with him. Out of the Mercedes boiled more armed men. They rushed toward her car, and before she could blink, they had Barry Turner subdued.
The front door opened, and she turned toward it. Everything seemed to slow down as she saw her brother rush through. “Alice!” he shouted, and her heart suspended as she took him in.
Everything returned to real time, and she ran toward him, wrapping her arms around him and hanging on for dear life.
* * *
“I wouldn’t dare arguewith you, Jen, especially after you took that self-defense course and learned how to take down bad guys.”
Jennifer Langdon laughed at her husband, then glanced at her watch. “Oh, damn. We’re going to be late. Let’s go.”
She grabbed the conference bag that had been issued to her when she’d checked in last night. The days leading up to the conference had been filled with sightseeing, and she’d enjoyed every moment of being in Sydney, except for the long plane ride. That was exhausting.
She entered the elevator, her husband on her heels. They rode down to the lobby quickly. The doors opened and she exited. She looked back at her husband and said, “Hurry,” heading directly for the ballroom and the opening remarks. As she turned the corner, she ran right into a man with his brown hair buzzed close to his scalp. Then she saw his clothes, black, looking military issue. Her eyes widened when she realized she was pressed up against an assault rifle in his hands.
Without thinking she dropped her bag and hit him in the throat as hard as she could. He reeled back, bending over and choking. Without giving him a moment to recover, she brought her knee up and grabbed the back of his head and slammed it into her leg. He grunted, blood gushing from his nose as he collapsed to the ground. She was on him, grabbing his hand and twisting it behind his back.
“Get the guns!” she called to her husband, who, after being frozen in his tracks, lunged forward and stripped him of the weapons.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the lobby and a multitude of armed men in camouflage, along with the police rushed toward her.
“Drop the weapons,” a man ordered, and her husband gingerly set them down. He moved forward, pushing his assault rifle to the side and gathered them up.
“He-he was armed. I reacted,” she explained to a gorgeous Indian man who grinned at her.
“How about we take over…”
