Guarded from Sabotage (Blade and Arrow Security Bravo Team #2)

Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

DANTE

Is it normal to miss Sarah already?

It’s only been a few hours since I left her, but it feels like a few weeks, at least.

My chest feels hollow. Cold. Like all the warmth has been stolen from it.

The urge to see Sarah—to touch her, hold her, just talk to her—is a desperate thing.

Is this what my friends go through each time they leave town for a job? How does Cole manage leaving Maya, especially now that he has little Clara, too? And what about Niall? Everything he went through with Jade was only months ago. How can he bring himself to leave her?

Now I feel guilty for not insisting he stay back at HQ longer.

I thought I understood—it’s not like I haven’t been around people in love. My parents. My sisters. My friends and teammates. But I didn’t realize the loss could be this all-encompassing. That being away from Sarah would feel like a part of me was missing.

But I have to deal with it. As much as I miss Sarah, I need to keep focused. Cole and his team in Sleepy Hollow built up Blade and Arrow to be one of the premier security companies in the country, and I’ve been entrusted to maintain that reputation out here in Texas.

And that means making sure this job is done right. Computer manufacturing CEO Beau Winningham hired us to perform a security update at his estate in Austin, which involves checking his existing security system for vulnerabilities, giving refresher training to his existing staff, and making recommendations for any necessary upgrades, like a new fence or drone detection system.

It’s not a hard job, not compared to what we used to do in the Army, but I can’t afford to miss some little detail that could cause a security breach. So I really need to compartmentalize and set my thoughts about Sarah aside until later.

“Hey, Dante.” Erik glances over from his seat at the small hotel desk. He sets his stylus down beside the tablet in front of him. “Looking through the list of security staff, there are at least two I’m concerned about. One has a track record of being late, the other was caught sleeping on the job twice. I’m torn between retraining or recommending they be let go. What do you think?”

Looking up from my laptop, I meet his gaze. “Why don’t you meet with them first thing in the morning? That might help you get a read on whether they’re interested in improving. If they seem receptive to retraining, we could recommend probation. If not, then it’s time for them to move on.”

Erik lifts his chin. “Sounds good.”

We met with Beau as soon as we got to Austin, and now we’re back at the hotel, preparing for an early start tomorrow. Erik’s going through the Winningham employee records, I’m working up a plan for the interior of the house, and Rhiannon is checking satellite images of the property to see where we can shore up security. This evening, we’ll come up with a comprehensive plan and tomorrow, we’ll present it to Beau for approval. Then we’ll spend the next two days putting everything he approves into action.

But as I’m studying the blueprints of the Winningham estate, making notes for additional security camera locations—blind spot in the hallway, another in the pantry—Sarah slips into my mind again.

This time, it’s not a pleasant thought. It’s the memory of Sarah after the car crash, dazed, her lips red with blood, broken glass in her hair, and the crushing fear I felt not knowing if she was okay.

Maybe it would be easier to leave her if the memories weren’t so fresh. Vivid. If I didn’t remember at least several times a day just how close I came to losing her.

But she’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. Petrovic is in jail. I double checked just before we left Blade and Arrow. Well aware I was being ridiculous but not caring, I called Quint just to make sure. And once he verified that Petrovic was in custody, still not eligible for bail, and had no access to computers, he added kindly, “I understand, Dante. If it were my Corrie, I’d be doing the same thing.”

So it’s fine. Sarah’s at her interview, and then she’s headed back home. In an hour or so, she’ll be back at Blade and Arrow, where I know she’s completely safe. And tonight, after my work is done, I’ll FaceTime with her. Maybe even try some phone sex like we talked about last night.

For added reassurance, I skim her messages one more time, smiling to myself as I read them.

Hey, just got to the coffee shop. It looks really cute! Everything’s good. Love you!

Lunch with Raya was great. She can’t wait to meet you. I’m heading over to the interview. I love you.

Just got to the interview with some time to spare. Everything’s good. I’ll text you as soon as I finish. Love you.

The last of her messages was sent thirty minutes ago, which means she’s probably right in the middle of her interview. I’m sure she’s doing great, even though she was nervous about it.

“It’s not the actual interview,” Sarah confessed last night over dinner. “It’s going someplace new, not knowing my surroundings… I wish I didn’t feel that way, but I do.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured her. “If you go, and you don’t feel comfortable, it’s alright. Remember, Matt said there are lots of remote jobs available. So you could work from here, if you want.”

“I know. But this interview… I’d really like to work with kids again. In person, where I can really get to know them.”

Ever since she saw the posting last week, she’s been excited about it, outlining all the reasons it would be a good fit. “It’s in Seguin, so I’ll have a shorter commute, plus I could work with teenagers, which I love. And it’s a non-profit, a new one with a mission statement I really connect with. Working at a place like this, I think I could really make a difference.”

So, even though a small, selfish part of me wants Sarah to take the remote option, I’ll support whatever she chooses if it makes her happy.

Assuming all the people who work there check out, that is. I’m not taking any chances with Sarah’s coworkers again. And I don’t think Sarah will disagree.

If she gets the job, though, I’ll have to take her out to celebrate. Maybe we could get a hotel room in San Antonio, make reservations at one of the fancy restaurants there, even go to a show after. And we could stop at that bookstore she mentioned, the one with a big cookbook section filled with signed copies from famous chefs. I bet Sarah would love that.

“Are you thinking about Sarah again?” Rhiannon teases, grinning at me from her seat by the window. “I can’t imagine you’re that happy about blueprints.”

“I could be,” I retort. After a beat, I concede, “Fine. Yes. A little. But I’m not going to slack on the job.”

Rhiannon smiles. “It’s fine, D. I’m just teasing. Of course you’re thinking about her. It’s your first time apart after being together for weeks. And if I know you, which I do—” She gives me a knowing look. “You’re probably coming up with things to worry about.”

“Not exactly.”

Erik snorts quietly.

“ Fine .” I flick my pen at him. “I know she’s okay, but it’s hard not to worry. Especially because it’s her first time going into town by herself. It’s not that I think she can’t handle it. But after everything she’s been through… it hasn’t been that long. What if she gets scared? And I’m not there to help?”

Expression sobering, Erik nods thoughtfully. Then he says, “You could check her tracker. Just to see where she is. It might make you feel better.”

My hand twitches towards the little icon on my desktop, the one opens our tracking software. But I hesitate. “I could. But I don’t want to use it like that. Not to track Sarah for no reason. That feels too intrusive. Like I don’t trust her.”

“Yes…” Rhiannon drags out the word. “In normal circumstances, I’d agree. But it’s not like you’re going to do it all the time. This is different. She just went through a traumatic experience. Multiple traumas, really. So it’s not weird to want to make sure she’s okay.”

Erik says, “I’ve seen some people with severe PTSD take off when they’re in a stressful situation. The adrenaline triggers the fight-or-flight instinct, and they just run.” He grimaces, adding, “Not that I’m saying Sarah would run. It’s just…”

Shit. Why did I come to Austin? Why didn’t I take Niall up on his offer to replace me on this job?

Now I’m imagining Sarah panicking before she goes in to the interview, the stress becoming too much for her. Or having a panic attack mid-way through. I’m picturing Sarah taking off, in her car or worse yet, on foot, her only thought to escape from an imaginary threat.

Shit. I should have at least stayed until she was done with the interview. I could have pushed our meeting with Winningham until tonight. It might have been a bit unprofessional, but…

“I’m checking,” I announce, and click on the icon. “Just this once. And I’ll tell Sarah I did it. I won’t be sneaky about it.”

“She’ll understand,” Rhiannon says. “If the situation were reversed, I’m sure she’d do the same thing.”

As I wait for the program to load, I’m already anticipating the relief. I’ll see Sarah’s tag at the little building on the outskirts of Seguin, just where she’s supposed to be. And soon, she’ll text me that she’s on her way home, and I can set aside some of my worry.

Except.

My heart lurches into my throat.

She’s not there.

Not in the office building. Not back at Blade and Arrow. Not even in Seguin.

She’s headed east on I-10, which is the opposite way she should be going.

Fear wraps around my chest, squeezing. Cold sweat breaks out all over my body.

“Dante?” Rhiannon’s voice sounds like it’s coming through water. “Is everything okay?”

No. I know with absolute certainty everything is not okay.

While I could come up with a dozen explanations, some of them even reasonable, in my gut, I know something is terribly wrong.

“She’s not there,” I manage. It’s hard to speak through a narrowing throat. “She’s going the wrong way. Something’s wrong.”

In a blink, Erik and Rhiannon are huddled on either side of me, staring at Sarah’s little blinking dot as it travels across the screen.

“Maybe she’s exploring,” Erik offers, but he doesn’t sound convinced.

“Exploring?” I cast a disbelieving glance at him. “It’s three-thirty. Even if her interview had finished, she wouldn’t just leave to go for a drive without telling me. She wouldn’t.”

“Call her.” Rhiannon thrusts my phone at me. “See if she answers.”

For a moment, I let myself hope. Before the call goes through, I think, maybe she decided to go for a drive, and she forgot to tell me. It’s possible.

But she doesn’t answer. It goes straight to voicemail.

The three increasingly frantic texts I send after go unread.

And the panic inside me keeps getting bigger. More vicious. Clawing at me like a physical pain.

“I need to go after her.” Leaping up, still holding the laptop in one hand, I scan the room, searching for my keys. “I need to catch up to Sarah. If I take 130, I should be able to intercept her?—”

Shit. Where are my damn keys?

Erik touches my arm. “Wait.”

I spin around and bark, “ Wait ? Sarah’s in trouble. She needs me.”

Rhiannon gets right in front of me, pinning me with her gaze. “Dante. Think. Not like Sarah’s boyfriend, but a Special Forces operator. What should we do?”

Shit.

She’s right. I’m doing the exact thing I was afraid of in the beginning. Letting my emotions cloud my focus. I take a deep breath. And another. I reign in the rampaging fear and shove it into a reinforced box to deal with later. “Erik. Call Matt. I need him to look into everyone associated with Petrovic again. And her ex, Tanner. Check out the woman she met for lunch, too. Raya Fortune. Tell him to get Leo on it, too.”

Erik already has his phone to his ear. “On it.”

Turning to Rhiannon, I continue in a strained voice. “Call Niall. Tell him to pull up Sarah’s tracker and get on the road right away. Xavier, too. Wherever Sarah ends up, I might need backup.”

Scanning the room again, I spot the keys to the Blade and Arrow SUV over by the TV. I lunge for them, clutching them so tightly they dig into my hand. “I need to go.”

“We’re all going,” Erik says. “I’ll stay on the phone with Matt. Rhi can help navigate. You’re not alone in this. We’ve got your six.”

I keep reminding myself of it as we speed down the highway, rushing towards Sarah’s still moving dot. I have my team. And by extension, so does Sarah.

We’re going to get to her. Protect her. Bring her home. And if someone took her, if it’s not a terrible symptom of PTSD, they’re going to regret it.

“Niall’s on the road,” Rhiannon reports. She’s sitting in the passenger seat with the laptop balanced on her knees. Sarah’s blinking red dot is still moving, inching its way east across the map. “He has Xavier with him. They’re bringing extra guns, ammo, medical supplies…” She bites her lip. “Not that we’ll need them, but?—”

“I know,” I grit out. “Sarah’s going to be fine.”

I just wish I could believe it. But my gut isn’t just telling me something is horribly wrong, it’s shouting it.

Somehow, we missed something. Between my team, the guys in Sleepy Hollow, the SAPD, and the damn FBI, we missed something.

“How did we miss it?” I snap, my frustration and fear bubbling over. “There are dozens of people on Sarah’s case. How did we fucking miss this?”

“We don’t know someone took her,” Erik says. He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “It’s still possible she had?—”

“Do you really believe that?” I clutch the steering wheel hard enough to break it. “I don’t. Not Sarah. She’s too… she just wouldn’t.”

I glance at the speedometer, wondering how much faster we can go without running the risk of being pulled over. It’s Texas, so I know we can go faster than I used to in New York, but…

“Matt has something.” Erik leans forward. “A lead.”

My heart rockets to triple speed. “What is it?”

“He looked into Petrovic again. Actually, the girlfriend.”

“The server?”

“Yes. But when he did a deep dive into her background, it seemed… too perfect. He said…” Erik pauses, glancing at his phone. “Usually there are gaps somewhere. Or duplicates of previous addresses. Missing records. Something. But with this woman, Gwen, he said it was almost too easy.”

“Too easy? What does that mean?” Stepping on the gas, I blow by a sedan puttering along at sixty. “Do we have a suspect or not?”

“Yes. Sorry.” Erik frowns. “I don’t understand some of what Matt is texting me. Wait… another message just came in.” He pauses to read it, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from yelling at him to read faster. “It’s a fake. The identity of the girlfriend. It’s fake.”

“Shit,” Rhiannon hisses. “How did the FBI not?—”

I wave at her to be quiet. “Who is it?”

“Her name is Tamara Morris.” A pause, and then Erik bites out, “Shit.”

“Shit, what ?”

“Tamara Morris is a security analyst in Boston. But she took a leave from her job six months ago. To move to Texas. San Antonio. She has a computer science degree from MIT, so she has the skills to…”

A tiny ding signals another text coming in. Seconds later, Erik continues, his tone even grimmer than before. “Tamara’s brother, Blake, passed away seven months ago. He went to Hunter College at the same time as Sarah. Matt hasn’t found a connection yet, but he’s looking.”

“So she has the skills to hack Sarah’s accounts,” Rhiannon says. “And she lies about her identity, meets Petrovic… Could she have been behind all of it?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I need to go faster. “How far away is Sarah now?”

Rhiannon studies the laptop. “Thirty miles. But we’re catching up. She’s not traveling at the same speed as us.”

My foot presses on the accelerator a little more.

Could this woman have been behind all of it?

Is Sarah in the clutches of the woman who tried to kill her?

Shit.

I’ve never been more afraid.

“We have to get there.” My voice is tight with fear. “I need to get to Sarah.”