Page 54 of Explosive Vengeance

The news hit her like a blow. But there was something else. Something he was holding back because he didn’t want to tell her. “And? Just say it,” she snapped when he didn’t answer immediately.

“Megan and Ty searched the hold of the ship. They found male migrant workers being smuggled here. The women weren’t on board.”

Chloe stared at him while that horrific final blow sank in. The women hadn’t even been aboard. So Fleur had died for nothing.

“Come on,” he said softly, and took her hand this time.

Numbness threatened to swallow her. Her core temp was still low from being in the water and then staying in her wet clothes for so long, but the shock and horror were the most dangerous. It took everything she had to compartmentalize all of it as she walked with Heath out to the parking lot.

You can’t fall apart. You can’t.

They took a taxi to a restaurant a few blocks from their hotel, paid in cash, then walked the rest of the way.

“My phone’s trashed from being in the water,” she said to Heath when they entered their room. It was untouched, her normal anti-trespassing measures still in place. “I need to make a secure call.”

“Here.” He handed her his—another burner phone Megan or Ty must have given him. “The others are waiting for us. When you’re ready, we’ll call them.”

She nodded woodenly. “We’ll need to talk about our next move. But first we need intel on those women, and Dubois.” She sat on the foot of her bed and called Trinity. The other Valkyrie already knew about the failed op and what had happened, so Chloe didn’t have to rehash anything.

“Are you all right?” Trinity asked her.

“Yes.” But no, not really. How could she be? “I need you to make arrangements to have Fleur’s body transported back to Paris for burial. Her parents are gone, but she has a half-sister who should be contacted.” Chloe would have handled it herself if she could have.

“Of course. Give me her name and I’ll handle everything.”

It felt wrong. So wrong to hand over something like this to someone else. Fleur had been her friend. Her responsibility. Not only had Chloe failed to protect her friend, she couldn’t even see to her burial. But under the circumstances she didn’t have a choice, and she had to trust that Trinity would handle everything.

“Thank you,” she murmured, aware of Heath watching her from the doorway between their rooms. A strong, steady presence to anchor her in the midst of this emotional hurricane.

“Amber’s been trying to track Dubois. All evidence indicates he’s still in the area, possibly even staying in Marseille.”

Chloe tightened her jaw. Would the bastard do that? It made no sense, was too stupid a risk after what he’d done, even if he thought he was above the law here. “Keep me informed.”

“I will.”

Ending the call, she lowered the phone to her lap and stared at the carpet. Heath was still there, his wide shoulders all but filling the doorway. She couldn’t summon the nerve to look into his face. “It should have been me. I should have met with the broker.” Things might have ended differently. And if not, at least it would be her dead instead of Fleur.

Quiet footfalls on the carpet made her stiffen. Her muscles were rigid as blocks of concrete as Heath sat beside her and tried to ease her into his arms.

She pushed away and stood, avoiding looking at him. She didn’t deserve comfort. This was her fault. Fleur was dead because of her, and there was no escaping that hard truth.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly.

“Yes, it was.” She turned away, unable to bear his concern. Then she stopped. “Thank you, for everything you did for her. I owe you.” Oh, shit, her voice was shredding, the wall holding her grief back bowing under the weight of the guilt and pain. And she had nothing to go on at the moment as to the whereabouts of the missing women or Dubois.

“Like hell. Chloe—”

“I’m gonna have a shower.” She hurried to the bathroom, locking the door behind her for good measure. It wouldn’t keep him out if he wanted in bad enough, but it helped give the illusion of more privacy.

Was Dubois really still in Marseille?

His brother had stayed here many times during business meetings. And Guillaume’s ego was just as big as Dominic’s had been. They’d both thought they were untouchable. That their money and influence could protect them from any threat.

Not this time.

The hair on her arms and the back of her neck rose as an iron determination formed in her gut.

She glanced at the small window on the far wall, the pressure of her weapon a reassuring weight against the small of her back. There was a fire escape below it that led to the alley beside the hotel. The others would want to wait until they had a solid lead, then come up with a plan before acting.

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