“Where are we going?” he asked tiredly.
“The bathroom. It’ll help getting the grime off and your body cooled down. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”
With a flick of her wrist, Marena had the shower on and adjusted the temperature to as cold as she thought he could stand it.
“Are you able to shower without help?”
He nodded and slowly started discarding his clothes.
Marena handed him an oversize towel and washcloth from the linen closet and set them on the closed toilet lid.
“I’ll be right outside the door. Call if you need my help.”
“Don’t worry, Rena,” he said in a low, measured tone. “I can handle a shower.”
She turned and headed for the door. “It’s cold. I’m sorry for that, but it’ll help get that temperature down.”
When he didn’t reply, she stopped walking and spun around. “Coulter?”
“Reduce fever. Got it.”
His voice wasn’t that loud, but the timbre was deep enough for her to hear over the spray.
Once out into the hallway, Marena left the door cracked to hear Coulter if he called out. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the wall and struggled to get herself together. This was the most bizarre morning she’d had in years. Her emotions were a jumble of memories and fear. Something was seriously wrong with Coulter, and all she knew was that it was classified, but if that were true, why had he shown up on her doorstep?
She hurried back to her room and straight for the closet. She grabbed the handles of the French door but then stopped. Her hands were cold and trembling, and there was moisture on her eyelashes. “Get a hold of yourself,” she admonished.
When she was able, Marena opened the closet doors and retrieved some clothes from a lower shelf. She glanced at her watch. He had been in there a long time. She pondered going to check on him. Turning around, she found Coulter was right behind her.
“Jeez,” she yelled before bumping into the shelves. “I forgot how stealthy you could be.”
Coulter appearing wasn’t the only thing that startled her. He was standing there with a towel slung low on his waist. Water slid down his chest, and his hair was wet. He’d also shaved his beard and mustache off. He looked the same as the last time she’d seen him. His chiseled jaw was more pronounced without the facial hair, as were his jade eyes. Marena’s stomach twisted into knots.
“Here,” she said overly loud before holding out the clothes in front of her as if they were a shield. “Put these on.”
Coulter glanced between them at the pair of shorts and T-shirt she was holding. His face was unreadable. “You sure your boyfriend—or husband—won’t mind?”
The friendly smile slid off her face, pulling her lips into a tight frown. When she spoke, her voice was toneless. “I suppose they would if I had either. These are your old clothes. You left them the last time you were at my house. I guess you don’t remember, considering the hurry you were in when you left.” She shrugged. “Don’t ask me why I packed them with my things and brought them here. It seemed stupid at the time—yet here we are.”
“Marena—”
“Let’s not. We have more pressing issues.”
Silently, Coulter eased the clothes out of her hand. When their fingers touched, Marena noticed his hand shook. Their gazes locked.
“Why don’t you sit down and put those on?”
“I’m fine,” Coulter replied and slid the shirt over his head.
When he swayed, Marena’s arm instantly came up to steady him.
“You’re not fine.”
She guided him to the guest room. Coulter finished dressing and settled in bed while she went downstairs to get a large water bottle. Filling it with ice and cold water, she stopped before heading back upstairs to grab half a submarine sandwich from the fridge, an apple, and a package of trail mix.
“You need more to drink.” She offered him the container while standing at his bedside. She set the food on the nightstand. “I didn’t know if you were hungry, but just in case.”
“Thank you.” Coulter took a few sips before sinking against the pillows. In less than a minute, he was asleep.
She retook his temperature. It was lower, but the fever remained.
“I’ll be back soon,” she whispered.
Marena went downstairs to get another bottle to hold more ice water. She hoped the medicine would do its job and lower his fever. At least then he would feel better, and she could discover what all this was about and find a way to help him. She may be angry with him, but she would put personal feelings aside and do everything in her power to help. And from the looks of it, whatever was wrong was severe. That thought caused fear to ricochet through her like a ball slamming around in a pinball machine. At that moment, Marena realized that she would do whatever was needed to keep Coulter alive. She wasn’t about to stand by helpless while another person she cared about died. Not again.
Where are you, Coulter?
Cole Everett, the founder, and chief executive officer of Ghost Town Security, sat with his feet up on the mahogany filing chest behind his desk. His Washington, DC, penthouse condo afforded him an uninterrupted view of the Potomac River, the Washington Monument, and the Washington Channel. As his troubled gaze scanned the skyline, Cole’s right thumb absentmindedly pressed the top of a ballpoint pen. The clicking sound it generated was the only noise in the room. He had a bad feeling, and it wasn’t going away.
There were three soft taps at his office door.
“Come,” he called over his shoulder, not bothering to turn around.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir, but Mr. Maxwell is here to see you.”
“Send him in.”
Stuart Higgins stepped aside to allow the man to enter.
“David.” Cole turned back to his desk. “I didn’t expect to see you for another week. Vacation not agreeing with you?” he laughed.
“There’s been a development,” David Maxwell said severely. “I heard from one of my contacts.”
The playful mood was gone. Cole sat up straight in his chair. “Okay, shoot.”
“There’s been a development in Colombia. Coulter didn’t report in at the appointed time. Usually, I wouldn’t get concerned because I know how it can get in the field sometimes, but—”
“Coulter is never late making contact.”
“Exactly,” David replied. “His entire team is off the grid, and no one at his company can provide a straight answer as to his whereabouts.”
Cole frowned. “When was the last time he checked in?”
“Two days ago. Right before Javier Palacios’s meeting was scheduled to take place.”
Cole nodded. He glanced up at Stuart. “Where’s Joe?”
“Unknown, sir.”
He got up and paced around. “I want to know where he is by the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir,” Stuart replied.
After a few moments, Cole stopped and strode to his desk. “Could you two excuse me for a moment?”
Both men nodded and filed out of the office. Cole bowed his head for a moment. Then he sighed loudly before picking up the phone and dialing a number.
“Sonia, it’s me.”
“Dad? Why are you calling?” Sonia responded warily. “I thought I—”
“Yes, I know. You’ve been very clear that you don’t want me in your life. And I’ve done my best to grant you that, but there’s a problem.”
“Your problems don’t concern me anymore, remember? They haven’t for years now, so—”
“Sonia,” her father said sternly, “we don’t have time for this. Have you heard from Coulter lately?”
“Why are you asking me about my son?” she hissed. “I told you to stay away from him.”
“Answer my question. Have you heard from him?”
“If I have, why would I tell you?”
Cole balled up his fist and slammed it on the desk in frustration. “Listen to me. You’re my daughter, whether you like it or not. Even though they’ve kept me from you and my grandson, I have respected your wishes.” His voice shook with emotion. “But right now, I need you to put this hatred of me aside and answer my question. Have you heard from your son?”
There was a long pause before she said, “I don’t hate you. And yes, I have, but it was two days ago.”
Cole closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He struggled to remain calm.
“Dad, what’s going on?” she finally spoke. “Why are you asking me about Coulter?”
“Because I think he’s missing.”
“What? No. No, that’s insane. Besides, how would you know that?”
He let out a harsh breath and sat down on the edge of his desk. “It’s a long story.”
When Sonia spoke, the barely restrained note in her voice mirrored his own.
“Then you’d better tell me the short version. Starting with what you had to do with this and where my son is.”
By the time David and Stuart joined him again, Cole was sitting at his desk with his head resting on his arms.
Stuart rushed over to his desk. “Sir, are you alright?”
Cole gazed up at both men. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked like he’d aged several years. “No, no, I’m not.” He leaned back in his leather executive chair. “I just had a conversation with my daughter for the first time in twenty years. It went much worse than I expected. I can’t blame her. I had to tell her that Coulter is missing and that he was on a mission I hired him to do.”
David paled. “I’m sorry, Cole.”
He got up so fast that the chair crashed into the chest behind the desk. The sound was like a clap of thunder echoing off the walls.
“I want every resource I have available on this. I don’t care what it takes or how much it costs. I want my grandson found and brought home safe.”
“We’ll find him,” David replied. “I promise you that.” He paused before he said, “What about Brinkley?”
Cole pinched the bridge of his nose. “I need proof, David.”
His friend let out an exasperated breath. “We’ve been tracking Brinkley’s movements for months. Since you put him in charge at Ghost Town, his actions have been questionable at best. Look, I know you’ve got a host of other businesses to run, but I’m telling you, Cole, Joe isn’t looking out for your best interest or even that of the company. He’s looking out for himself. Period.”
“I won’t jump the gun on this. We’re accusing Joe of illegal activities, David. I want to be darn certain before I go down that road.”
“Stuart, could you excuse us for a moment?” David asked.
The younger man turned to Cole for approval. He nodded his agreement, so Stuart stepped out, closing the door behind him.
“Why are you letting your friendship with him blind you to the facts right in front of you?”
“I’m not,” Cole countered.
“For crying out loud, your grandson has gone missing after trying to get you proof about Brinkley. You don’t find that odd?”
“I’m aware of that!” Cole shouted. “Joe is one of my closest friends. We were in the army together. He was at my daughter’s wedding and Coulter’s christening. Heck, I introduced him to his wife. Since day one, he has been here, and I will not take any severe action until I am one hundred percent sure that Joseph Brinkley is guilty of everything in those reports. His future as a free man and that of Ghost Town hinge on the intel we hired Coulter to find. My gut tells me that if we find Coulter, we’ll find that smoking gun.”
David nodded. “And until then?”
“Until then, keep monitoring Joe and Falconi.”
“Cole, what if they had something to do with Coulter’s disappearance?”
He looked David square in the eye. “Then only heaven can help them.”