"And he'll refuel in an extradition country," Knox said.
Jason took a sip of his water and set the bottle on the conference table. "Where the FBI will be awaiting their arrival. The FBI can take it from there. At least, that's my idea. I'm still ironing out the details. But none of that matters if we don't have the bomber. And it will all be for nothing if bombs go off somewhere and people get hurt. So again, the bombs and the bomber are our first priority."
Allie glanced at Knox and choked back a smile. His efforts to relieve the wig's ill effects left his thick blond hair sticking out in every direction. It looked comical. And kinda cute. And why in the world did she find it attractive? She willed her thoughts to focus on opening her water bottle.
"I have an idea about how to do that," Knox said.
"To find the bomber?"
"Yeah. We know they've been buying up property, but the only building on the whole island that Byron owns is that warehouse. And we know something's in there because it's guarded around the clock."
She knew where this was going. "You want to go in?"
His eyes smiled at her. "Yep."
She didn't think marching into the lion's den was anything to smile about.
His face softened. "Allie, think about it. They're guarding the place 24/7. With delivery trucks coming and going. Knowing what's in there—whether it's the bombs, or information about the bomber, or something else altogether—will give us a lot more intel than we have, which isn't much."
He wasn't wrong. But what made her stomach tighten was that she knew he wanted to go in alone. And that warehouse was a beehive of unknowns. "I don't disagree. But do you have a plan? Getting in there long enough to look around unnoticed might be impossible."
The mischief in his smile tied her already-clenched stomach into a knot.
Jason leaned on the conference table with both hands. "Care to fill me in?"
"Gladly," Knox answered. "You're gonna love this."
Jason raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Well, maybe not today. But someday, we'll look back on this and say, 'Wasn't that awesome?'"
Allie dropped her head with a groan.
The next few minutes poured acid on the knot in her stomach. Yes, Knox had a plan. It was risky, but not impossible. She didn't like it, but she couldn't think of a better idea. And he was right—they had to dosomething. Soon.
The amount of detail in his scheme made her realize he must've been thinking this through for a while. "How long have you been planning this?"
He mussed his hair again. "Since the first time we saw the warehouse from Henrik's place." A new energy sparked in his eyes when he looked at her—which did nothing helpful for her concentration.
He was happy. And confident. She was glad, but . . . she needed to get some air while Jason and Knox argued about which one of them would take the most risk in this daredevil plan. "I'll go get the supplies we need." She stood. "It shouldn't take me long. You two," she waggled her finger between Jason and Knox, "find a way to do this without getting us killed."
Knox winked at her. "Yes, ma'am."
The confidence on his face loosened the knot in her gut. A fraction.
To his credit, the concierge didn't bat an eye at Allie's requests. Compared to the wishes and whims of the resort's rich and famous, her requested supplies must seem uninteresting.
He carried himself with a refined, almost-regal air, from his polished black shoes to his manicured mustache."Make note of what you need on this. Be as specific as possible." He handed her some stationery with 'The Mandeville' stamped at the top.
"Yes, of course. Thank you." She recorded the items and handed him her list. "I appreciate your help. I hope it isn't too much trouble."
He glanced at the list and shook his head. "Last week a guest requested we procure a live Siberian tiger. The week before that, someone asked for a didgeridoo."
"A what?"
He gave a kind nod. "I had to look it up. A didgeridoo is a musical instrument used in traditional Australian Aboriginal ceremonies."
"Oh. Well, that's interesting. Were you able to find those . . . items?"
