Page 105 of The Saint

She nodded. “Yup. We don’t know if any are active and trying to influence or just waiting for their marching orders.”

Despite his headache, possibilities ran through his mind. “The Russians got the NOC list and learned about Hailey and Jonathan’s involvement with Esme.”

“That’s a working theory.”

“Who knows about this?” he asked.

“Titan and my section chief. Beyond that?” She shrugged. “No idea.”

“Esme?” he asked, even though Beth would have mentioned if Esme had been told.What if Esme was one of the sleeper agents? What if she’d known her tight-knit network had been infiltrated by the CIA?Hailey and Jonathan would have been easy enough to take care of. Camden’s thoughts returned to Amelia.Why did they take her? What did they want?“Do they think the CIA has other agents embedded in Esme’s network?”

“No idea.”

The blood pressure machine beeped, and a mechanical voice spoke. “Relax your arm for a reading.” It beeped twice more and repeated the message.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Camden said. “You’ve got to get me out of here.”

The cuff contracted on his arm. “Reading in progress. Remain still.”

He huffed. “What are we waiting on?”

“Jared has a doctor he wants you to see.”

Beth’s phone vibrated, and she answered and turned away to listen before ending the call. She didn’t act as though new information had been shared. “Stay put. I’ll see what I can do.”

Her high heels clacked on the floor. The heavy door shut with a resounding click.

His blood pressure reading announced itself as abnormal and asked him to sit still next time. Camden was going to lose his mind.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Back up, Amelia,” Esme called as though she were warning a friend about a low ceiling, not a bruiser about to kick in a door.

The man who had been guarding Amelia appeared in front of the door. He reared up a leg, and Amelia jumped back. The door splintered from the lock and swung open with such force that the door smacked the wall and shut again. The broken door latch still swung back and forth.

Esme opened the door. She looked utterly out of place with her dark suit and bag of food.

Amelia staggered back until she hit the bed. She had nowhere to go. Nothing made sense.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Esme walked in and casually shut the door.

“You killed my sister.”

“No.” Esme shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

She gestured to the broken door. “Those guys did.”

The same people just broke down the door and let Esme in. One of those men had been at the Callaghans’ house and Esme’s party. They had to be who took her from Camden—from a safe house.

Amelia skirted around the bed. “How could you? You worked with them.”

Esme was unmoved by her accusations. “Hailey’s death was tragic.”

If only Amelia had done things better. She’d wasted so much time that night. She could have kept her questions to herself when Jonathan and Hailey demanded she get help. Amelia could have run faster. She could have stayed out of the window. Guilt rolled over her like a tidal wave.

“Screw you, Esme.”

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