“Holy shit.I thought I remembered seeing Idaho.Archer Lonagan has a ranch there somewhere…” She plugged the address into Google Maps.“It’s about forty miles northeast of Nampa.The ranch is one of the few properties he didn’t lose because it’s in a trust for his kids.”
Ford looked pensive, his lips flattening as he gazed at the floor in thought.“It’s a tenuous thread, but it gives us a starting point.Maybe my guy can use that to see if anyone else on the list has been to Idaho recently.”
Natalie didn’t want to get her hopes up— Oh, who was she kidding?She absolutely fucking did.Otherwise, what else were hopes good for?
After dinner and Natalie’s eight o’clock check in with her computer expert—some guy named Dallas—Ford looked across the table at her.She had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair had curved where she shoved it behind her ears every two minutes.She’d complained that the strands were now too short to pull back into a bun or ponytail, and though he’d never had hair long enough to fall in his eyes or tickle his cheeks, he could only imagine it must be irritating as hell.
But also, it all spoke to a larger issue.She’d been keyed up all damn day, unwilling to step away from the computer except to use the bathroom.
Dallas and his hacker contact were working to infiltrate both Wallace and Lonagan’s cell phones.Ford understood how it could be done, but he’d decided he didn’t need to know the specifics.In fact, better if he knew nothing at all.
On his end, his sister’s team continued to report on Wallace and look for additional ties to Lonagan.
Thirst drove Ford to the kitchen to grab one of the wide-bottomed bottles of Orangina from the fridge.Nothing else could be done tonight, and—given how tired she looked—Natalie clearly needed a break.From what he could tell looking over her shoulder, she’d been keeping herself distracted by scrolling through social media posts from her family and friends back home.Who all thought she was dead.
That couldn’t be healthy.
She’d been uncharacteristically subdued, listless even.It made him twitchy.Moving in behind her, he set his fizzy fruit juice on the table.Careful not to jostle her injured shoulder, he gently placed a hand at the base of her neck and began to massage.
She moaned and dropped her unrestrained hand from the keyboard, letting it rest on her lap.
Ignoring his body’s response to her sounds of pleasure, he said, “Seems like you could use a diversion.”
Her head dropped back and she looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling, a seductive smile on her face.“What’d you have in mind?”
There she is.But, damn this woman.Now that he’d had a taste of her, he couldn’t get enough.He itched to slide his hand lower, into the neck of her T-shirt, into the cup of her bra…Later.“Blitz could use a walk.”He cleared his suddenly rough throat.“Why don’t you come too?I think a little fresh air would be good for all of us.”
She made a playful pout and gave her laptop a longing glance, but then straightened up and nodded.“I think you’re right.”
Fifteen minutes later they emerged from the maze of orange- and pink-stained buildings and headed toward the Quai des États-Unis.After crossing the main road along the coast, they turned west into the setting sun onto the world-famous Promenade des Anglais.
The wide concrete boardwalk overlooked pebble beaches curving along the southern end of the city.Even at this time of day, the narrow stretch of land between the water and the high wall was a patchwork of colorful towels and umbrellas and people in swimsuits.
“Any idea why they named these prominent locations after the English and the Americans?”Natalie already looked better with a little pink in her cheeks, her skin warmed by the late evening light.
“No idea, but there’s a small replica of the Statue of Liberty around here somewhere.”He’d seen mention of it in a guidebook on the bookshelf in their rental.Entertainment had been slim today.
“Huh.”She took a deep breath and turned in a full circle, taking in the tropical-blue water, the pink clouds, and the constant stream of tourists, walkers, and runners clogging the palm-lined path.The warm breeze blew her hair into her eyes and she laughed, tucking it behind her ears.“God, it’s gorgeous here.Especially this time of day.”Meeting his gaze, she said, “Thanks for dragging me outside.I needed this.”
“We both did.”He forced himself to look away from her and scan the people around them as they strolled.So far no one stood out from the crowd.
Next to him, Natalie did the same.In many ways, she was the same woman he remembered, but she’d also become more vigilant, more focused, more cynical.Still direct, yet he got the sense she had a few secrets.
She made a small gesture to encompass their surroundings.“Now I get all the fuss.My parents came here on their honeymoon, and my mom still talks about how beautiful and romantic it was.It’s weird being here and not being able to share my experience with them.”Something in Nat’s voice made him glance down to find her biting her lip.
“Hey.”He held out his free hand, not caring to examine how ridiculously relieved he felt when she took it.“You’ll get to see them soon.”Whether that meant days, weeks, or months, he didn’t know yet, but theywouldidentify her would-be killer and get her life back.He’d do whatever it took to make that happen.
Her feet slowed until they nearly stopped, so he tugged her to the side of the concrete walkway and let Blitz sniff the base of a tree.
“Ford,” she said, her voice low and rough.“I can’t go on hiding indefinitely.”
“You’re not.Things are in motion.”
She scoffed.“Iknow.But I’ve hurt my family so much.It’s been…” Her gaze strayed up while she did the math in her head.“Jesus, Ford, it’s been three weeks since I was—” she pitched her voice even lower “—attacked.They had a memorial service, for God’s sake.My cousin posted pictures of it on Facebook.
“Do you know how surreal it is to actually know who would come to your funeral?Or having friends from high school and college that you haven’t spoken to in years leaving condolences, sharing stories on social media that you don’t even remember, and pretending you were still close.And my mom’s responding to every post, every comment.My brother wrote this big, long eulogy on his Instagram and shared a bunch of pictures of us together.
“And here I am.”Shaking free of Ford’s hold, she swept her hand toward the bruised horizon.“My family is grieving right now.They’re trying to figure out how to process my death and go through probate, and I’m here taking a stroll on the fucking Promenade at sunset.We’re holding hands like a happy couple, and they’re trying to hold each other together.”A tear slipped down her cheek and she dashed it away, turning to face the water.
