Don't Look Back, page 14
She pressed the letter into Kira’s hand and herded them out the door.
They were silent on the boat ride back to Valletta. Kira’s mind was reeling. She’d tucked the unread letter into her purse and would read it once she was back in her hotel room.
She listened for her mother’s voice as they walked the streets and crossed the water, but she was silent. Kira touched the locket as she climbed the hill below the hotel and silently asked her dead parents for the truth they’d withheld in life.
She’d forgotten about the drama at the hotel until Rand reminded her when they were on the water. He’d attempted to call the front desk for an update, but the line was busy.
Now they climbed the last hill. The entrance came into view, and everything looked normal. Sweat slicked Kira’s hair and neck and dampened her cleavage as they reached the revolving door and entered the thankfully cool lobby. Behind the desk, the clerk looked harried as he spoke on the phone, apologizing for the inconvenience to a guest. When he spotted Rand, he abruptly said goodbye to the caller and hung up, then spoke to Rand. “Mr. Fallon, right?”
“Yes. What happened?”
“We aren’t sure. The sprinklers in your room went off.”
“Was there a fire?”
“No.”
“But it was only the sprinklers in my room?”
“As far as we know, yes.”
“How is that possible?”
“We’re looking into that. In the meantime, your room must be repaired. Your belongings, they are wet. We have another room for you on the second floor.”
“There’s no need. I’ll stay in Ms. Hanson’s room.”
“No.” The word was out of Kira’s mouth before she had a moment to consider.
“Does your room have two twin beds, like mine?”
She nodded.
“Then I’m staying. With everything that’s going on, you shouldn’t be alone.”
She knew he was right, but still, she’d wanted that separation. It wasn’t like separate beds changed anything. The twin mattresses were so close together, at first glance she’d thought it was a single king bed, and it wasn’t like having separate sheets could build a wall to stop her from throwing herself at Rand.
She gave a sharp nod to the clerk. Rand leaned forward and said, “On paper, we’re in separate rooms. Don’t change the hotel records.”
The Knights of St. John had settled in Malta by 1530, giving the country its Catholic foundation. Now, nearly five hundred years later, the country remained deeply religious. Some websites stated there were more churches per square meter here than in any other Christian country. The man likely thought Rand’s concern was fear of being caught in a compromising position by family or friends in violation of beliefs and not that Kira was in danger and had been hunted by a madman with a gun on Tuesday.
Not your average week.
Yet today, it was Rand’s room that had been invaded and vandalized.
Nothing made sense.
“Our computer will require payment for the unoccupied room,” the man said.
“Credit me back for half the rate for the damaged room, and we’ll be square.”
“I will have to clear that with my boss.”
“Fine. I need to grab my things from my old room.”
“We took the liberty of removing them for you.” He nodded to the door to the hotel offices as he rose to his feet. “I will bring them to you.”
A moment later, the young man circled around from the side pushing a luggage cart. It held a wet duffel bag, a few loose items of clothing and toiletries, the bookstore bag, and a plastic file folder containing a small stack of papers. She wondered if the plastic folder held his travel documents.
Did the hotel now know he was in the US military?
Nothing they could do about that if so. Anyone who’d been in his hotel room making noise and setting off sprinklers might have seen the papers.
Rand gathered his belongings. They were about to leave the small lobby when the clerk said, “Ms. Hanson. I almost forgot. This message was delivered by courier for you earlier.”
He held up an envelope that matched the one currently in her purse.
Inside Kira’s room, Rand dropped his wet bag and leaned against the closed door. He watched Kira as she gingerly explored her belongings, looking for a sign someone had searched her room.
The “Do Not Disturb” door tag would have kept housekeeping out, but the fire alarm meant the room had likely been checked.
For not being a combat mission, today had been a ride. Now he watched Kira, whose day had been even more turbulent than his. And it wasn’t even five o’clock.
“I want to be with you when you meet with Kulik.”
He braced for an argument and was relieved when she simply nodded. “Nothing’s been touched, as far as I can tell.”
“Good.” He pushed off the door and stepped from the short hall by the bathroom and into the room.
Three windows. Two small ones on the side overlooking the street. A large one on the front facing the harbor. No enclosed balcony like his room, but the view was spectacular, just below the rooftop terrace they’d enjoyed last night.
He closed the curtains over the side windows, but left the front window uncovered. They could be spied on through that window but only with a high-powered scope from across the harbor. They wouldn’t be caught unaware.
The twin beds were close together—less than a foot separated them, same as his room—and the one nearest the front window was unmade. “Tonight, you’ll sleep closest to the wall.”
“Are you calling dibs on the good bed, Lieutenant Commander?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I know we’re on the sixth floor, but the window is still an entry point. I’m closest to the window.”
She pointed to the two windows on the wall opposite the foot of both beds. “What about those windows? Or the door?”
“You’re in the corner, with the bathroom making the entryway a funnel. I can cover all four entry points keeping you safe tucked behind me.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that I can defend myself? That I might know how to fight?”
“Good. That will come in handy if there’s more than three.”
That brought a laugh out of her.
He smiled and stepped in front of her. He brushed a lock of hair that had come loose from her hairclip. “I’m not worried about fighting. I’m worried they’ll have guns. And they will have guns, while we don’t. I’m counting on anyone who comes after you to want you alive. If I’m standing in front of you, they can’t shoot me without potentially harming you. Which will force them to lower their guns, and the fight is on, with you safely behind me.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “No one gets past me to you. Not while I’m breathing.”
She tucked her head down against his chest, and his arms went around her. He stood there in the middle of her hotel room, holding Kira in his arms. Not in the way he’d wanted for months, but the way they both needed now.
Her phone chimed with a text, and he cursed.
She groaned and slipped from his arms to check her screen. She frowned. “Cousin Andre wants to see me before I meet with Reuben Kulik. He’s waiting by the Upper Barrakka fountain just a few blocks from here.”
“Have you opened any attachments from Andre on your phone?”
“No—shit. Yes. A photo of my father and his that he found a few days ago. It was a JPEG file.”
Rand took the phone from her hand and powered it off. “I’ve got extra burners in my stash in the car. We’ll get it after meeting Andre.”
“We’re going?”
Rand very much wanted to meet with Kira’s so-called cousin. “Definitely.” He wanted to ask Kira if she trusted the man, but there was nothing stopping her from turning the question back on him, and he didn’t want to lie to her. After he met with the man, he’d decide if Freya was right about keeping Kira in the dark.
Chapter Twenty-Four
They walked side by side up the wide stair road to the battery atop the city walls to where a row of cannons faced the harbor they’d crossed earlier and the fort where they’d kissed. The battery had been constructed in the sixteenth century by the Order of Saint John, and the cannons were fired daily at noon and 1600 according to the sign at the entrance.
They bypassed the battery and continued up to the entrance-fee-free garden, where Cousin Andre waited.
As they approached, Kira could see Andre was agitated as he paced by the fountain. When he spotted them, his face brightened until he saw Rand at Kira’s side. His momentary smile turned into a scowl. “You didn’t say you were bringing him.”
“I didn’t know I needed to clear my companions with you, Andre.”
“I’ve gone out on a limb vouching for you with my connections. I don’t know him at all.”
“I don’t need you to vouch for me. My father’s name has worked quite well.”
“Your father’s name is the problem. Listen, we need to talk, in private.”
“No,” she and Rand said simultaneously.
“Kira there are things about your father you don’t want him to know.”
“Then you should have told me this morning, when we were alone.”
“This morning, you hadn’t gone to Birgu.”
“How do you know I was in Birgu?”
Andre’s nostrils flared. “Everyone knows you went to Birgu.”
“Who is everyone?”
“You have no idea who you are dealing with.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“You’ve endangered everyone.”
“Again, Cousin Andre. Who. Is. Everyone?”
His words were a low whisper. “They’ll kill me. You should have told me about the letters.”
“What makes you think I owe you anything?” Why did everyone seem to think this trip of hers was their business?
“We’re family.”
“Are we really?”
All at once, Andre lunged at her. Before she knew what was happening, he grasped at her neck. She expected to feel the grip of his hand around her throat, but instead, she felt the scrape of fingers and the bite of a breaking chain on the skin at her nape, and then Andre was running toward the exit with her mother’s pendant in his grasp.
Rand was after Andre like a bullet as Kira watched in stunned dismay.
The man never stood a chance against the SEAL, who tackled him and pinned him to the ground. “Who are you?” Rand asked.
Her cousin stared up at Rand in shock and fear. “An-an-andre Stoltz. Kira’s cousin.”
“Bullshit. No one has seen the real Andre Stoltz since January.” Rand’s voice turned soft and menacing. Kira had to strain to hear him. “Eenie meenie, miny, moe, catch a liar by the throat.” His hands tightened on Andre’s neck. “You. Are. Not. Stoltz.”
The scene was surreal, watching the fake author but very real SEAL torment the one person who had been her lifeline in the months after her father’s death.
And yet, the man’s behavior since he’d arrived in Malta backed Rand’s words. She touched her neck. He’d taken her mother’s locket.
A crowd was forming around them—albeit at a distance—and a different kind of fear sank into Kira’s churning belly. She tapped Rand on the shoulder. “We need to go. Now.”
Rand hesitated a moment, then released Andre’s neck. He remained on the ground, straddling the gasping man.
“Who are you?” Rand asked again.
“Andre Stoltz.” He twisted his head to cast a frantic glance at Kira. “She’ll tell you. She knows.”
Anger surged. The liar thought she was so fooled she hadn’t noticed the inconsistencies in his stories. “I know what, Andre? Tell me one thing about my father that only you and I could know.”
“He loved your mother beyond all else.”
“That’s true, but hardly a secret. Try again.”
“Your mother…she could have been a master. Her paintings were magnificent.”
That gave Kira pause. Only she and her father knew of her mother’s skills with a paintbrush. But her mother had had a whole life she knew nothing about. Maybe she’d been a known artist before she escaped to the US.
She reached down and grabbed the locket from Andre’s grasp. “Why did you take this?”
“Proof. To buy time.” He grabbed Kira’s hand. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
She jerked her hand away. “Then tell me.”
He shook his head. “Your father had more enemies than friends, and the friends he had were both. Especially after what he did.” He pressed his lips together as if he were a petulant teenager.
Rand rose to his feet and stepped back just as security arrived. Kira held up the pendant to the guard. “He stole my necklace, but we got it back.”
“Do you want to make a report?” The man addressed all three of them.
Kira shook her head. “It was a family dispute. We’re sorry to have caused a disturbance.”
Andre was certain to have bruises on his neck and elsewhere, but she didn’t see him putting up a fuss. Rand draped an arm around her, thanked the guard, and steered her toward the exit.
Once they were away from Andre and the security guard, she ducked out from under Rand’s arm and took the path toward the Les Gavroches replica. As an art historian, she’d looked forward to seeing this piece by Maltese artist Antonio Sciortino, considered Malta’s foremost sculptor. But now, as she faced the work, she found herself unable to take in the emotion of it, which was a depiction of three Parisian street children inspired by Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables.
She didn’t see art. She didn’t even see the garden and strolling tourists. Instead, her brain was focused on Rand’s words as he squeezed Andre’s neck.
No one has seen the real Andre Stoltz since January.
Kira turned to face her self-appointed bodyguard and spoke just above a whisper. “How long have you known Andre was a fraud?”
Rand was silent for a long moment, then he said, “Since this morning, when you were in his hotel room.”
Kira could have accepted just about any answer but that one. He’d had so many opportunities to tell her what he knew since then.
She’d been falling for this man and had believed his feelings were along the same lines. But he’d spent the better part of five hours with her, without telling her the one thing she absolutely needed to know.
Anger surged in a way she’d never experienced. It was a raw, violent rage she didn’t know what to do with. Hit something? Cry? Yell? Seethe?
Collapse into a broken heap?
It was as if she’d been attacked with sandpaper and the outer layer that protected her was gone, and now her raw skin ached at the merest touch of air or sun.
It wasn’t fair that he was wound-free while she suffered along every inch of exposed flesh.
She held up the necklace. “Thank you for getting this back, but we’re done. Go home. I don’t need your kind of help.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Kira! Wait!” His shout was a desperate plea, but she continued down the path, heading for the exit.
Dammit, he’d known it was a shit idea to keep her in the dark. Still, he’d done it. He couldn’t blame Freya for this epic fuckup. His desire for Kira messed with his logic, so he’d overcompensated by making the harsh choice—as that’s what he’d do if it were anyone else.
But Kira wasn’t anyone else. He needed to stop pretending his feelings for her were irrelevant when it came to the decisions he made on this op.
No doubt now it was an op. And he’d fucked it up beyond all recognition and been kicked off the team.
“Please, Kira. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t look back. Didn’t offer any sign that she’d even heard him.
The one thing he’d believed from the moment he’d first asked her out and she’d turned him down was that eventually, he would win her over. Even with her father’s interference, he’d held on to the idea that if he didn’t push and was patient, she’d give him a chance.
Now he realized he might have broken her trust beyond repair. And he couldn’t blame her. This trip meant everything to her. She’d shared her fears about what she’d learn, not just about her parents, but herself. And he’d withheld a vital piece from her.
Worse, because he’d messed with her emotions, she was even more vulnerable. Her gait was angry and lacked signs of situational awareness. Because she wasn’t protecting herself, he had no choice but to follow and protect her as best he could from a distance.
Before she turned onto the main street where she was supposed to meet Kulik, she pivoted and faced him. “Stop following me.”
“No.”
“I meant it when I said go home. You sure as hell aren’t staying in my room.”
“You’re in danger, Kira.”
“And whose fault is that? Maybe the person who had intel he didn’t bother to share?”
“I wanted to extract you from Stoltz’s hotel room the minute I found out, but I knew you wouldn’t appreciate that, and, more important, we’d get more information from him if he didn’t know we were on to him.”
“But we weren’t on to him. You were.”
“You had your suspicions. You said as much to him, but you never said a word to me.”
“Don’t make me the villain here, Rand. I’m not the one who knew for a fact he wasn’t Andre.”
“I fucked up. I should have told you. But you did have your suspicions, and if you’d shared them, I’d have told you everything. As it was, I wasn’t about to let you see him without me by your side again, and I’d hoped to get more information from him if I played along with his charade.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
