Page 93 of Save Her Life

“And you checked with Agent Sutton on the hallmarks and serial numbers?” Nolan asked Gabe.

“Done and done.”

“Where is the gold?” she asked.

“Ready to be loaded into a vehicle. Just point me to which one.”

“That would be into mine,” she told him. She turned to Nolan. “I’ll leave the tracking down of the real gold to you?”

“As I said.”

“Though, I could use some help loading it.” Gabe looked at Nolan.

“Of course.”

She put on a thick bulletproof vest, then her coat over that, and the three of them set out for her Mercedes in the lot. The two men picked up a wooden crate with rope handles on the way.

“Nice wheels,” Gabe said at the sight of her Mercedes.

“Thanks. I like it.” She kicked her foot under the rear bumper, and the trunk opened.

“Handy feature,” Gabe said. “I’ve got that in my Hyundai too.”

Gabe and Nolan lifted the crate into the back, and she closed the lid. The fact this box of fake gold was meant to pay for Olivia’s life washed over her. What if she messed up and hergirl paid the price for her incompetence? Her legs buckled, and Nolan rushed to help her remain upright.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered in her ear.

That’s all she needed. One expression of belief. She stood tall and nodded. “I’m off.”

“Good luck,” Gabe said, and the sentiment made her cringe. Probably for its accuracy. So much of what the future held was hinged on happenstance. When she worked a crisis incident, she had a roadmap to follow. Even when there were detours that were specific to that situation, she could find her way back. Where she was about to go was unexplored territory for her.

“Thank you.” She got behind the wheel and drove out of the lot afraid of looking back. But her gaze traveled there anyhow, and she caught a glimpse of Nolan. It was candid and clear that he was just as scared as she was.

The afternoon was cool but sunny with not a cloud in the sky. It would have been a pleasant day if not for what lay ahead of her. Sandra would either get her daughter back alive or seal her fate.

She parked near Georgetown Waterfront Park and got out of the car. There was no sign of the black GMC van, but Jennings could have parked in an underground garage.

She had ten minutes until the meet, and every step she took toward the labyrinth was leaden. She spied the agents posed throughout the park as joggers and walkers. There were one or two pushing baby strollers. Civilians would have been cleared from the vicinity in a discreet manner when the meet was first arranged. While she knew the only people left were agents, hopefully Jennings would be fooled.

She was also aware that snipers were set up, but she didn’t know where they were positioned. They’d be perched in their nests watching her through their optics right this minute.They were bound by FBI shooting protocol, which mandated a weapon was only to be fired when there was immediate risk to life or of or extreme bodily injury. Regardless, their presence still made her nervous, but Elwood insisted they be there. “Nonnegotiable,” he had said.

She reached the center of the labyrinth, conscious of the fact a man’s body had just been found there yesterday morning. Placed there by the man who had her daughter and who she was about to meet, no less.

A cool breeze whirled around her and had her tucking farther into the neck of her coat. There was something about being where death had been that brought with it a tangible sensation. It also clung energetically, as if the soul of the departed lingered, trying to make sense of their death.

Even with a vest, a wire, a tracker, and surrounded by agents, she felt vulnerable. While she waited for the minutes to pass, her head was on a swivel. She felt exposed enough without giving up her back to a gun or knife. No sign of Lonnie Jennings yet.

She kept looking around. After a bit of time passed, she received a phone call from Jennings.

“Look to the right of the labyrinth, to the cluster of bushes,” he told her.

She turned and saw him. “I see you.”

“Come over here.” He hung up, and she walked over.

There was no sign of Olivia, and it curdled in her gut. She answered, “This was to be an exchange. Where is Olivia?”

“Where’s the gold?”

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