Her heart revved up like a race car. Her mind went blank. Instead of asking the opening questions Tania had lined up for her, she heard a soft voice asking him, “Coffee?”
“Aye, I never pass up anything a bonnie lass offers me in the morning.” He grinned. He looked ruggedly handsome. His green eyes sparkled. He moved in for a good-morning kiss.
She found herself smiling and handing him a cup to keep him at arm’s length.
How could he have done any of the things she imagined?
Quite easily, she reminded herself. Or not at all.
The cup shook as she handed it off. His gaze fell to her hand. She withdrew it quickly and turned away.
“You know why Americans like coffee?” she asked, her voice betraying her nervousness.
He looked at her curiously. “Cannae say I do.”
“When King George levied the Stamp Act in 1765, rather than pay the tax without representation, the American colonists boycotted tea and started drinking coffee instead.”
“You don’t say.” He took a sip and spluttered. “Whoa. What the bloody hell is this—liquid asphalt?”
Pia couldn’t breathe. Everything Tania taught her swirled in her head. She couldn’t remember which question to ask first. Something about trapping the witness. Cutting off all the escape routes before asking the main question. She felt like she was trying to catch fog.
“Are ya alright?” Liam asked. “You look like you’re having a wee bit of remorse. Should I have left straight away last night?”
“Nothing like that,” she said quickly. She needed air. She needed sky. She needed grass. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She didn’t look back. She reached the elevator, pressed the button, and waited. Tanner held two Sabel armor shirts when he caught up. Made of liquid metal with the thickness of a sweatshirt, they were the least obtrusive armor on the market. Pia ripped off her top, slipped the armor over her athletic bra, and slammed her top back on in a fast and fluid movement. Something she’d done hundreds of times. Liam watched her, somewhat amazed. Then he took off his shirt, slipped into the armor and rebuttoned his shirt.
He said, “Thing’s not so bad when you get used to it.”
He smiled at Pia, then at Tanner, and the other agent assigned to him. No one returned the smile.
Liam stepped next to Pia, watching her eyes. He said nothing as they rode the lift to ground level and stepped out to the street.
Tanner and the other Sabel agent backed off enough to give them privacy.
She led him past the artillery memorial and through the Wellington Arch. The air was brisk, and the sun was low. Traffic on the A4 rumbled through the tunnel beneath them like a distant war. She didn’t know where to start. The coincidences churned together, boiling and burning like acid. A wolverine tried to claw its way out from inside her.
While she tried to formulate the right words, she heard her name called. Looking up, she saw a heavy, familiar man jogging toward her in a sweatsuit. He slowed as he approached them.
“Pia Sabel! It is you,” the heavy-set man said. He grinned and pressed his gloved hands together in the namaste gesture as he approached. “Wayne Walker, the Walking with Walker podcast. Albert told me we’re rescheduled for tomorrow. That time works fine for me. Shall I meet you in the lobby?”
The man had the most annoying habit of showing up at the wrong time. She was in no mood to talk—but one must never offend the press. She waved off Tanner and said, “I didn’t expect to run into you so far from Manchester.”
“Oh, I live just there.” He pointed vaguely down Piccadilly at a block of expensive flats. “I promise a right good time. How wonderful to run into the famous Liam Pickford as well.”
“Indeed,” Liam said and stuck out a hand that Wayne ignored with another namaste bow. “We’re on for an interview tomorrow as well. Eleven, I believe.”
Pia looked to Liam and wished she had listened to Wayne’s dirt on him. It was too late to ask now.
“Is that alright?” Liam asked Pia with an uncertain look on his face.
“Did Albert set you up too?” she asked.
“We were on the same flight from America last night,” Liam said.
“I took the liberty of setting it up directly,” Wayne said. “Anyone in your orbit is fascinating to my listeners. See you both tomorrow.”
Walker resumed his jog, though he couldn’t be a regular at it given his shape.
Pia pressed on at a serious stride. Liam lagged a bit behind, then trotted to catch up.
“What’s this all about?” Liam tugged at her elbow. “Are you dumping me already? I didnae think you the kind.”
She turned around, her eyes flashing. “We located your wife.”
Wrong move. Tania had told her to ask him if he’d been to Croatia first. And a bunch of other questions that would force a verifiable answer.
“Oh aye?” Liam pulled back. “And? Where is she then?”
It was too late to regroup. Pia leaned into her anger. “Beaten to death six months ago on the island of Hvar, Croatia. Ever been there?”
“Dead? No. That cannae be. I’d’ve been told. Are you sure? Who identified her? Why didn’t they contact me?”
“We had to provide a DNA sample to ID her.” Pia’s phone rang with the ID announcing Jeff Benton. She ignored it.
“DNA?” He cocked his head to one side. “Why DNA?”
“Her face was crushed. Nothing left to identify.”
“Oh my god.” Liam reeled backward, looking sick. “Do they know who did it?”
Pia observed him closely, hoping to read his level of sincerity. She wanted to trust him—and because of that, she knew better than to trust herself. It was time to call in Tania.
Benton called her again. She ignored it again.
“Hold on.” He scowled and pointed a finger at her. “You asked if I’d ever been there. You think I did it?”
“Just answer the question.”
“I’ve never heard of the place.” His face flushed with anger. “And no, I’ve never been to Croatia at all.”
“Croatia’s police will be checking passport records.”
“Fine by me. Here, see for yourself.” He pulled his passport out of his pocket and thrust it at her.
The first page she opened to had USA stamped on it from the day before. She flipped through and saw only four stamps, including his previous trip when they’d first met. She flipped to his picture and saw it had been issued in January, four months earlier. “What happened to the older one?”
“What?” Liam squinted at her before checking the date. “Oh, right. I renewed it because the old one expired. They do that, y’know.”
Pia handed it back as the bile rose in her throat. Regrets came up fast. She should’ve taken Tania’s advice in the beginning. Now she couldn’t find a way out. And she still had questions about his last trip. Tania’s instructions came back to her. She may have blown the wife question, but she could work on the others.
“I wanted to be clear of her,” Liam said. “I never wished her dead.”
“Why did you go to Vancouver?” she asked.
“Spending all this time on the merger, I neglected the sales effort. Before Dad took sick, I’d been VP of Sales. Two of our customers were turning right scunners. I had to patch things up with them.”
“Who?”
“What’s this all about, Pia?”
“Do you know a man named Martin Vermeer?”
“Cannae say I do. Can you give me some context?”
“How about Dave Krueger?”
“Krueger? Is he that feckless bastard who wrote the piece in the Journal? What about him?” Liam pieced it together before she could answer. “Oh, aye. His company’s in San Diego where I was yesterday. Are you accusing me of conspiring with him? You’re that suspicious, eh? If you must know, I was there to visit Qualcomm. We engineered their water filtration system.”
“Krueger died unexpectedly yesterday.”
Benton rang again. Third time. Pia accepted the call. Before she could say anything into the phone, Liam stomped in anger.
“Oh, now hold on a minute,” he said. He pointed at her and backed up a step. “Are you thinking …”
She held up her phone. “I have to take this.”
“To hell with you, lassie.” He turned and stormed toward the A4. A few paces out, he turned but kept walking backward. “I thought we had something special. I thought you were different from all that shite they say about you.”
“You went to Chloe England’s funeral because you followed women’s soccer. That means you knew it was me in the coffeeshop when we first met.”
“You’re full of yourself, y’know that?” He walked backwards and pointed at her. “You’re not the only lass who played the game.”
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To Croatia. I grew to hate the woman, but someone’s got to bury her.” He pointed at his assigned Sabel agent. “Stay where you are. I’m done with your lot.”
Benton was shouting into the phone. “Pia. PIA!”
“What is it?” she snapped angrily.
“Your mates Bethany and Rain were abducted a few minutes ago. A black van snatched them right in front of Eden-Sonnet’s office. Your agents were tased before they could react. No plates. I’ve sent a police cruiser to fetch you.”
“Damn it,” Pia said. She calculated the distance to the financial district. “I’ll run there. It’ll be faster.”
She made it twenty yards when she heard the distinct snap of gunfire behind her. She turned in time to see Liam fall to the ground.