Page 38 of The Bodyguard

Sawyer braced for an explanation flush with terminology that would go right over his head.

“Mylene Hathaway has been AWOL since the year before Angela’s abduction. She returned from the DNI’s office outside Washington, DC, and, as we understand it, learned that her husband and sister were having an affair.”

Despite Parker’s far less-than-expected technical answer, Sawyer emitted a low whistle.

“Yeah,” Parker agreed. “They were found murdered, and shortly after that, a warrant for Mylene Hathaway was issued but never served.” He cleared his throat. “No one could find her.”

If he didn’t know better, Sawyer would’ve guessed Mylene had knocked off her husband and sister and gone into hiding. Given that Pham was part of the conversation, that was far tooeasy. Sawyer stole a glance at Angela, who was as still as a statue. “They never found her?”

Angela didn’t answer.

“They did not find Mylene,” Parker confirmed. “There was a manhunt, but it didn’t last long. Bureaucracy and internal politics. She fell off the radar.”

Sawyer shifted in the chair. His thighs stuck to the leather cushion. He didn’t want to study Angela and her lack of conversation and reaction, but it was unnerving. “So… it’s a cold case…” He tried to read the room. Parker and Jared were clearly unimpressed with the military’s investigation. Angela was stock-still and unreadable. Sawyer ran a hand over his face and sifted through what he knew of Pham. “So, do we think Mylene killed her husband and sister or not?”

“Someone did,” Jared snarked.

“The evidence points to Mylene,” Parker said.

Then what was the catch? And why the hell was Angela stone-cold and ignoring his questions?

“But,” Parker added, “this is the picture a sketch artist drew after meeting with Angela. After she first reported the unknown woman to the Feds.” A profile sketched in pencil replaced Parker’s face on the screen. “And this is the sketch from a forensic artist Angela spoke with this morning.” A near replica split the screen. Side by side, the drawings were shockingly similar. “Now, for good measure.” A photograph appeared next to the two drawings. “This is Mylene Hathaway in civilian clothes in a photo dated just before her husband and sister were murdered.”

“Holy crap.” The woman in the photograph was smiling. That was the only difference between the picture and the two sketches drawn years apart. Goose bumps ran down his back. He faced Angela and repeated the obvious, “That’s the same lady.”

“Yes,” Angela finally said. “And she’s been under Pham’s thumb since before he took me.” With her statue-act shattered, she turned to Sawyer. A terrifying storm of devastation and cold fury brewed in her dark eyes. “She’s been there, stuck in hell, with no one trying to find her.”

Sawyer couldn’t fathom the years that Pham had stolen from Angela, but he could hear and see the trauma that bubbled so close to the surface. Despite that, her fight for control was stronger. He wanted to comfort her, though nothing he could think of was adequate. His fleeting thoughts felt selfish and hollow. Unspoken words—platitudes—caught in his throat. There was nothing to say about Mylene or the situation.

“What now?” Sawyer managed.

“This is the thing.” Boss Man grimaced. “We know squat.”

“Technically…” Parker reappeared on the screen. “Not squat.”

Jared gave Angela a stern look that promised they weren’t at rock bottom. “Parker has strings to pull.”

“That’s good,” she whispered.

Sawyer leaned back, his skin stuck uncomfortably to the chair. He crossed his arms. “All right. Until Parker works his magic, we know squat. That’s not nothing.” He studied Angela. “It’s a holding pattern.”

Jared nodded, eyeing Angela as though sizing her up for a task. “Parker can only do so much without new intel.”

Sawyer didn’t like the mental gymnastics he could see on Jared’s face. Nor did he like the way Angela’s position stiffened a degree more. His glance ping-ponged between them before he finally determined the question that he already knew would have an answer Sawyer would hate. “How do we get more intel?”

“On a years-old cold case that no one wants jurisdiction over?” Jared’s eyebrow arched like Sawyer had asked to search for life on another planet. “There’s not a lot of resources.”

“Yes, there is,” Angela countered. “If Mylene is who Pham wants to trade for a deal.”

“We don’t have any indication that’s who Pham has or is willing to trade in exchange for a reduced sentence.”

“I don’t want Pham to trade on Mylene.” Angela clutched the chair arms. “I don’t want him using her for one more thing.”

Jared nodded thoughtfully. “I get that, Angela…”

“But what?” she pushed. “If we tell them what we know, they’ll either continue to ignore me, as they always have, or use it in negotiations.”

“Then where does that leave us?” Sawyer studied Boss Man and tried deciphering what the hell was running through his mind. “If we give whatever we learn to the Feds, we give up control.”

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