Emily’s fingers tightened around Mustang’s and she turned toward the investigator.
The man hurried across the bar and sat in the chair opposite Mustang. “I think I was followed,” he said and glanced over his shoulder.
Mustang leaned toward Phillips and spoke softly. “We have a couple guys here as backup.”
Phillips shook his head. “I should have stayed home. By leaving, I might as well have painted a target on my back.”
Emily placed her hand on the man’s arm. “Tell us what you came to say. We’ll make sure you get out of here safely, won’t we?” Her gaze met Mustang’s.
He nodded. “We will. But you have to trust me and my team.”
“They’ve been watching me. I had to create a diversion in order for me to get out of my house without being seen. I called the police to my neighbor’s house, saying I thought someone was trying to break in. When a couple cruisers arrived, I slipped out the back door of my house and escaped on my motorcycle.”
Emily tightened her hold on the private investigator’s arm. “Jay, what did you come here to say?”
He pulled a small electronic tablet from a backpack he’d worn over his hoodie. Pressing the on switch, he glanced around and then leaned closer to Emily. “I found something in one of the most recent photographs I took of the ambassador’s daughter and the journalist. They were leaving the restaurant at one of the hotels in Alexandria. I snapped the photo as they passed an alley.”
As the photo materialized on the screen, Emily leaned in. Though the image was a bit blurry, Emily recognized Sachi Kozlov and Tyler Blunt. They were holding hands as they walked by the alley. “So, we know they were seeing each other. Why is this image so important?”
Phillips touched the screen, enlarging the image. He pointed to the alley behind the couple. “Do you see the people in the background?”
Emily squinted, concentrating on the dimly lit space behind the couple. “A little. There’s a man and a woman.”
“Look closer.” The PI enlarged the image yet again, making it even grainier.
“The man looks familiar, but I can’t quite place him.”
Phillips pulled the tablet back and thumbed the touch screen until another image popped into view.
Emily’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. “The ambassador’s assistant, Viktor Sokolov.” She glanced up at the PI. “You think the man in the alley is Sokolov?”
Phillips touched the screen and brought up both images side by side.
Emily compared the two, her eyes growing wider. “Looks like him. But who is the woman with him?”
“I don’t know, but she looks really young.”
Mustang studied the image. “Too young.”
“She can’t be more than fourteen.”
“It’s hard to tell by a picture,” Phillips admitted. “But she doesn’t look happy about being with him. And they’re waiting at a door to the back of the hotel.”
A chill rippled down the back of Emily’s neck. “You think Sokolov is having an affair with a minor? Is that what this is all about?”
Phillips ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but what are the chances Blunt and Sokolov happen to be at the same hotel at the same time?”
“Blunt is an investigative reporter. Could he have been probing Sokolov’s activities?” Mustang asked.
“We can’t know until someone has the opportunity to ask Blunt,” Phillips said.
“And you think someone at the embassy has kidnapped Blunt because of what he might know about Sokolov’s activities?” Emily asked.
Phillips nodded. “I looked through all of my photos of Blunt and the ambassador’s daughter and this is the only one that stood out. Why else would they be after me?”
“And I saw Blunt at the embassy. I know the ambassador was angry about his daughter going out with the journalist, but I can’t imagine it being enough to make him want to kidnap or kill the man.”
Phillips frowned. “Unless he’s in on whatever Sokolov is doing. Either way, this photograph could be what has them spooked and willing to come after me.”
“You have the photos backed up in case someone destroys your equipment and computer storage device, right?” Mustang asked.
Phillips nodded. “Yeah, on the cloud. Only I know how to get to them.”
“The Russians have been known to be good at hacking,” Mustang reminded Phillips.
“That’s why I wanted to meet in person. I was afraid if I sent it, with an explanation, it could somehow get diverted into the wrong hands. I’ve saved them in multiple places. It will take them time to hack into my account. And even more time to hack into multiple accounts.”
“Could you send me a copy of that photo now? Our system is secure,” Mustang said. “I have people who can do some sleuthing on this Sokolov guy and see what they can come up with.”
Mustang gave him the email address to Cole McCastlain.
After a few clicks on the tablet, Phillips looked up. “Sent.” He looked again at the front entrance. “Now, I need to go before they catch up with me.” Phillips rose from his seat.
Emily rose with him. “Will you be all right?”
Phillips pressed his lips together in a tight line. “Only time will tell.”
Mustang held out his hand. “Thanks for bringing this to us at a risk to your own life.”
“I wanted someone else to know what I’d found. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if I was knocked off before the images could be reviewed even closer.”
“Thank you.” Mustang held out his hand. “And please, let us help you get somewhere safe. We could put you up for a while, until this blows over.”
“Thanks, but I’m going to get out of town.” He started toward the entrance.
Before Phillips had taken three steps, Declan launched himself out of his seat and tackled Phillips.
At that moment a loud crash sounded and a vehicle erupted into the tavern, smashing through one of the walls and rolling to a stop mere inches from where Declan lay on top of Phillips.
The crash made Emily rock back on her heels and fall into the seat she’d just vacated.
Declan jumped to his feet, pulled his gun and aimed it at the crashed vehicle.
With the weight lifted from his body, Phillips leaped to his feet and ran for the rear exit.
“Jay!” Emily called out. “It could be a trap!”
But the man was gone, through the back door and out into the night.
“Go after him!” Emily said.
“I won’t leave you,” Mustang said.
“Fine, then follow me.” She ran toward the back door.
Mustang followed close behind. “Don’t go out there,” he called out.
Just as Emily reached the back door, she heard the sound of an engine starting and then the squeal of tires on the pavement outside the crumbled tavern.
By the time she opened the door and peered out, Phillips was speeding away on his motorcycle.
“Come on.” Mustang stepped past her into the night then pulled her into the crook of his arm and ran for the other side of the building where he’d parked the car. “If we hurry, we can catch up to him and maybe make sure he gets away safely.”
Emily picked up the pace, running as fast as she could.
They reached the sedan in seconds, climbed in and raced off in the direction Phillips had gone.
Mustang tossed his cell phone to Emily. “Call Declan and let him know where we’re going.”
Emily fumbled with the device and brought up the contacts list. “Where are we going?”
“After Phillips,” Mustang said. He rounded the corner and hit the accelerator, making the sedan leap forward.
Ahead, several blocks away, a bright red taillight glowed on a motorcycle.
“There he is,” Mustang murmured, his focus on the vehicle ahead as Emily clicked on the number for Mustang’s leader.
Declan answered on the first ring. “Mack and I will catch up to you,” he said, without waiting for Emily to fill him in on where they were going. “Just give us a street name and direction.”
Emily frantically looked for a street sign and then passed on the information he needed.
“Thanks. We’ll be with you as soon as possible,” Declan said.
“What happened back there?” Emily asked.
“Another diversion,” Declan said. “These people don’t believe in being subtle. But don’t worry, we’ll have your back.”
Emily ended the call and concentrated on keeping track of the motorcycle ahead of them. “Are we trying to stop him?” she asked.
“No. I just want to make sure he gets far enough away before someone catches up to him and makes another attempt on his life,” Mustang said.
As if conjured by Mustang’s words, a van pulled out of a side street ahead and slammed into the motorcycle Phillips was riding.
Phillips flew into the air and landed several yards away, skidding to a stop on the pavement.
“Oh my God,” Emily whispered, the horror of the scene making her stomach roil and her hands shake.
Mustang punched his foot harder on the accelerator, speeding toward the downed PI as the vehicle that hit him backed up, dragging the motorcycle beneath its chassis. It bumped up over the mangled wreckage and shifted forward, heading for the man on the ground.
Emily leaned toward the windshield. “Hurry, Mustang! You can’t let him run over Jay.”
Mustang raced ahead, coming up on the left side of the van. He turned his wheel sharply to the right, making the car hit the van hard on the right rear bumper.
The van spun around, performing a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn until it faced the little sedan Mustang and Emily were in.
Emily leaned back in her seat and braced herself. “He’s going to hit us—”
The van plowed into them, clipping the front driver’s-side bumper, sending them spinning toward the curb and a solid light pole.
At the last moment Mustang swung the steering wheel around. The little sedan crashed into an abandoned warehouse, where part of the old walls came crumbling down around them.
The airbags deployed, slamming Emily back into her seat. No sooner had they exploded in her face than the bags deflated, leaving Emily stunned and powder-coated.
“Get out!” Mustang ordered from beside her. “Get out now!” He pushed his door open, shoving aside rubble to exit.
Emily tried to do the same but couldn’t get her door to budge. She unbuckled her seat belt and crawled across the console, escaping out the driver’s side.
“What about Jay?” she said, looking back.
A shot rang out nearby.
“The team will help him.” Mustang grabbed her hand and took off running through the dark building where their vehicle had landed, with nothing but the dull glow of exterior streetlights shining through windows high up on the walls guiding them.
Emily had no other choice but to follow or have her arm yanked out of its socket. She ran, trying her best to keep up with Mustang’s longer stride, dodging abandoned crates and pallets.
In the shadowy expanse, Emily could just make out a row of doors. She had no idea where they led or if they would be locked when they got there. But the sound of several pairs of footsteps pounding behind her kept her moving forward, praying one of the doors opened to the outside where they might have a chance to escape.
Another shot rang out, the sound closer and louder, as if it had been fired from right behind them.
Emily ducked automatically but didn’t slow. She pushed harder, running as fast as she could, her lungs burning and her pulse pounding so loudly against her eardrums she could barely hear herself think.
Mustang reached the doors and tried the first one. It opened.
He ran inside, pulling Emily in behind him.
The darkness was complete behind the door.
Emily swept her finger across Mustang’s cell phone that she still held in her hand and turned on the flashlight application. The little light illuminated the space enough to let them see they’d ended up in a stairwell where the only way to go was up.
Mustang took the steps two at a time, until he realized Emily couldn’t keep up.
She tried, but her legs just weren’t as long and strong and she was already struggling for breath, having run the length of what felt like a football field inside the warehouse. But she couldn’t stop.
The sound of the door opening at ground level and clanking shut made her climb faster. When they reached the top of the stairs, Mustang shoved open the door and led her into a long hallway with a door leading off to either side.
“Which one?” Emily whispered.
Mustang tried the first. It was locked. The second and third weren’t, but he kept moving, trying the doors as he went.
A little over halfway down the hall, he ducked into a door on the right and yanked Emily inside. As he pulled the door closed behind them, the door to the stairwell clanked open at the end of the hallway.
Emily clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping.
Mustang started to twist the lock on the door and stopped.
“Why aren’t you locking it?”
“They might think we’re in here, if we engage the lock. We need to hide. I’d fight them, but I’m not sure just how many there are. I think I heard three sets of footsteps, but I can’t be sure.”
Emily shone the cell phone light around the room, locating another door, a modular metal desk, a giant metal cabinet and a large credenza.
Mustang ran for the other door and pushed it open. He shook his head and retreated into the room with Emily. “No good. Only another desk, not big enough for both of us to fit beneath.”
Emily pointed to the credenza. “I can fit in that,” she offered and started toward it.
Mustang shook his head and pointed to the modular desk. “Get under that,” he urged quietly.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway, along with deep, male voices.
Emily dove behind the desk.
Mustang followed, pressing his body against hers, pushing her as far forward as they could both be and still be hidden behind the metal skirting around the front of the office furniture. “Douse the light.”
Emily fumbled with the phone and managed to turn off the flashlight.
The sound of doors opening and closing grew closer and faster as more than one man searched the floor for them.
A metal click echoed, as if the doorknob to the room in which they hid had been turned. Footsteps sounded, moving toward the desk.
Emily held her breath.
Behind her Mustang rolled over, placing his back against hers, his body tense, ready to spring should the intruder round the desk and look beneath.
The footsteps seemed to lead away from the desk and toward the other doors. One clicked open and shut pretty quickly. He must have found the broom closet they’d passed and Mustang had rejected as a hiding place. Then the other door clicked open and the steps sounded as if they were going away.
A moment later they were back and stopped in front of the massive desk.
Something thumped softly against the floor.
A voice called out in Russian from the hallway, “Did you find them?”
The man standing in front of the desk responded, “Nyet.”
“Someone is coming. We must leave.”
Emily waited, willing the man on the other side of the desk to go and leave them alone.
Finally he did, his steps leading away from them and out the door to echo in the hallway with the others. Moments later the hallway was silent.
Emily didn’t move. Neither did Mustang. After what felt like an eternity, which was probably only a minute, maybe two, Mustang rolled from beneath the desk and held out his hand to Emily.
She grasped it and let him pull her to her feet and into his arms.
He held her for a long time, his arms like steel bands around her middle, reassuring in their strength.
Emily slipped her arms around his neck and looked up into his eyes. “That was…”
She didn’t get the chance to finish her sentence.
Mustang’s mouth came down on hers, crushing her lips in a kiss that left her knees weak and her heart hammering.
He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue.
When she opened to him, he swept in and claimed her, deepening the kiss until she couldn’t think past his mouth on hers.
When he finally lifted his head, he stared down at her. “I know the timing isn’t great, but I’ve wanted to do that since I first kissed you.”
She smiled at him and then leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. “I wanted you to, ever since you saved me from being shot.”
He took her again, slowly this time, gathering her closer.
Emily could have stayed in his arms forever, but an incessant ringing sounded, pulling her back to reality.
She glanced down at the phone still in her hand. It was dark and silent.
Emily and Mustang glanced around the room and finally located the ringing sound coming from another cell phone lying on the floor.
A second later they heard the sound of footsteps pounding down the hallway toward them.
Mustang grabbed her hand and yanked her into the broom closet inside the office. He managed to pull the door almost all the way closed without clicking the lever, as the outer office door burst open.
Emily stood in the circle of Mustang’s arms, her pulse pounding and her breath lodged in her throat.
Through the gap, she could see the shadow of a man leaning over to grab up the cell phone that was still ringing. He hit the answer key and turned to leave.
Something shifted behind Emily. A broom or a mop, she didn’t know. But it made just enough noise to alert the man in the other room.
He spun toward the door they were hiding behind. Still holding the phone to his ear, he paused.
A shout sounded in the hallway.
The man pocketed his phone, pivoted on his heel and raced out the door.
A distant voice called out, muffled by walls and doors. It sounded like someone yelling, “Mustang! Emily!”
Mustang’s hands gripped her arms and his head lowered in the darkness until his lips found hers. “We need to talk. Later. Right now, I need you to stay here. I have to warn Declan in case those thugs are still hanging around. I’ll be back when I’m sure the coast is clear.” He dropped a kiss on her mouth and then stepped out of the closet.
“Mustang.” Emily reached a hand out and grabbed Mustang’s arm.
He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips.
If anything happened to him… Emily swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. “Be careful,” she whispered.