Sienna, not out of earshot shouts out, “In the meantime, I am still the prime suspect? Even though I got kidnapped? Fuck that.”
“We’re working on it, sweetheart. Don’t get all upset. It’s not healthy for the baby.” Andy, standing outside the door, glances around the room, and we all nod.
Ain’t nothin’ bad gonna happen to his family. Not on our watch.
In silent solidarity, Sam squeezes my hand. I couldn’t be prouder of how she tried to save everyone, even though she damn near broke her neck. I’m just glad we arrived before she attempted a long swim in the sea.
Finished with a five star breakfast consisting of eggs covered in delicious sauces, I lean back in the soft lounger and nap. I wake to the guys talking in front of the monitor.
Beside me, a wide awake Sam stops typing. “You okay, tough guy?”
“Never better… You learn anything new?” I take a sip of coffee, realize it’s cold, and spit it back in the mug.
My pretty lady opens a chat window to Jason. “Have there been any unusually large deposits made to any of Sienna’s road crew?”
“None.”
“How about expensive purchases or differences in behavior?”
“I do not understand.”
Their conversation works better than caffeine as an eye-opener. “Did any of them frequent five-star restaurants? Buy a new home, find a new girlfriend, or anything else out of the ordinary?”
“No.”
“Expand the search to anyone who works with Sienna.”
The Avatar blinks. “Please stand by.”
All the men on board crowd around Sam’s screen and a few minutes later, the AI unit flashes a multimillion dollar estate on her laptop. “Sienna’s business manager, Simon Pershing, is residing in this home.”
Sam presses a button and when the image moves to the front screen, Sienna clenches her fists. “I can’t believe it. Call the police. Tell them to arrest him.”
“Not yet.” Slate’s smile reminds me of a hungry gator I once had the misfortune of meeting.
“Oorah!” Jack, Lucky, and I high-five.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam
I call my dad because NYPD arrests Sienna the second her feet hit the tarmac. What good is being a police chief’s daughter if I can’t ask for a teeny, tiny favor?
“Seriously? Can’t you do something?” Pinching my nose does nothing to alleviate my throbbing headache. Two long flights in that many days is two, too many.
“The judge needs to decide, honey. There’s nothing more I can do.” My father’s a stickler for procedure but just in case, I pull out all the stops.
“PleaseDaddy?” I quiver my lower lip.
Like he has since I can remember, he heaves a huge sigh. “I’ll make sure she’s in a private cell. That’s the best I can do.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” When I shoot Suds a smug grin, he rolls his eyes.
“So, tell me. Did they hurt you?” Guilt for worrying my family washes over me but according to the State Department, what happened in Dubai, stays in Dubai.
So, I stretch the truth. “We landed, the Patten guys were waiting, and we all hopped on a plane home.”
“Hmm. So that’s your story?” He doesn’t believe a word I said and I don’t blame him.
