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She threw the woman a saccharine smile. “I’ll just wait in the lobby for him to return.”
The woman gave her the same bitchy lack of attention, and Lena drifted over to a plush sofa upholstered in shades of green with a palm leaf pattern. Frost and Mustang grouped around her.
“How the hell do you know all these details, Graham?” Frost demanded.
She cut a hand through the air. “Does it matter? We need that room number so we can get in and search the place.” Nobody questioned how they’d enter the room without the key card—they had ways of breaking and entering that would interest a whole lot of criminals.
“On it.” Mustang pulled out his phone and shot off a text.
Lena’s stomach rolled. Not with nerves—with hunger. Why did her body need to picknowto notice that she was freaking starving? The high-calorie, high-protein bar she nibbled back on the plane would normally tide her over for half a day, but she felt as if she hadn’t eaten in at least a week.
Guess what they say about eating for two is actually true.
“We should grab something to eat while we wait for the intel,” she said in a low voice so the people milling around the lobby didn’t overhear.
Frost nodded. “Good idea.” Nobody was going to argue about eating, least of all two huge men in a city where there were so many options. Lena had cooked for these two enough to know they liked variety.
Her father would love sampling the exotic food she got to enjoy in her travels. His small restaurant back home in New Orleans was his pride and joy. Lena missed the family business so much. She grew up at her father’s knee, chopping vegetables for the gumbo he’d serve to his customers and learning how to make delicious sauces.
When she joined Blackout, she had to sever all family ties, which still stung on occasions like this when she really could use someone to talk to about her situation.
As she led the way to one of the six restaurants inside the resort, she got that heavy feeling from the guys again. No doubt they’d be firing questions at her the minute they had their forks in hand. What would she tell them? They were all trained to tell a story as close to the truth as possible.
She’d tell them she had been to this resort before. No big deal. Everyone had a past—even people who didn’t exist to the rest of the world.
When they grabbed plates and got into the buffet line, Lena’s stomach leapt at the sight of fresh pineapple. Was it too soon for cravings? She was no more than a couple months along. And shereallyneeded to get into a doctor as soon as she returned to DC.
The timer was ticking down, and she had a lot of tough choices to make.
She picked up the tongs and served herself a few wedges of pineapple. Then she happened to glance up.
Through the glass hood covering the buffet, she set eyes on a man in a black restaurant uniform.
Recognition blasted through her mind. She absently set down her plate and walked over to Mustang and Frost, who were at the meat station having enormous slabs of beef carved for them.
“I found him,” she said.
Both men stilled. Their muscles hardened.
Frost didn’t turn his head aside when he spoke. “Found who?”
“The guy in the photo. On your two.”
Frost casually twisted his head. “Damn. I was really lookin’ forward to that prime rib.” He let out a sigh and handed his empty plate to a passing server carrying a drink tray.
Mustang fell into step with them. “What’s the plan?”
“Corner him,” she said out of the side of her mouth as they wove through the crowd of hungry people.
“Then drag him into the first room we find,” Frost added.
As they closed in on the man, Lena’s heart lurched. He worked at the resort, or at least was posing as an employee. Had he spotted Slade and followed him to that bar? The guy wasn’t big enough to overpower Slade Overstreet alone. That meant he had friends.
The guy looked up directly into Lena’s eyes. Their gazes locked.
She saw the shift in him before he ever took a step.
He darted left. She hurtled forward, dodging waiters with trays and a man pushing a cart stacked with pastries.
