Page 19 of Deadly Hope
He moved through the reception area with practiced efficiency, his casual demeanor from earlier replaced by focused intensity. His fingers skimmed the window frames, testing latches, while Izzy disappeared down the hallway toward the therapy rooms. Through the glass door, Olivia could see Ronan’s broad shoulders as he positioned himself with a clear view of both the parking lot and the building’s entrance.
The sudden jingle of keys made them all freeze. Olivia’s heart slammed against her ribs as she spun toward the door, Axel already moving to intercept. But then a familiar figure stepped through, and the tension dissolved into surprise.
“Marisol?”
Her receptionist jumped slightly, eyes widening as she took in the security team. “Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle everyone.” She clutched her purse closer, glancingbetween them. “I just ... I knew you were coming in today, and I thought maybe there’d be some filing I could catch up on.” She pulled a face. “Nah. I’m joking. I wasn’t about to miss seeing the famous Knight Tactical in action. The stories about you guys have been all over the airport gossip chain.” She winked at Olivia. “Though no one mentioned how photogenic your security detail would be,amiga.”
Axel coughed slightly, the ghost of his earlier humor returning even as he maintained his position. “We prefer to think people are talking about our professional capabilities, ma’am.”
“Oh, I’m sure those are very impressive too,” Marisol said airily, setting her overstuffed purse down with a flourish. “But you can’t blame a girl for appreciating the ... comprehensive view.” She glanced Axel over from head to toe.
Izzy emerged from the hallway.
Olivia couldn’t help but laugh at her raised eyebrow and Axel’s carefully maintained poker face. Trust Marisol to cut through the tension with her particular brand of sass. Her friend had always been able to find light in the darkest situations—it was one of the reasons Olivia had hired her.
“I brought pan dulce.” Marisol paused, glancing at the security team with a sly smile. “I mean if your guardians approve of carbs.”
Olivia had to hide her smile as the supposedly steely Knight Tactical team gravitated toward the pastries like moths to a flame.
“¡Ay! Conchas. Homemade?” Izzy asked, reaching for a pastry and taking a huge bite, closing her eyes in apparent bliss. “Delicioso.”
Marisol beamed, then sobered slightly as she watched Axel examining the front door lock. “Any leads?”
“We’re following several angles,” Axel replied, accepting a pastry from Izzy with a nod of thanks. “But what’s mostimportant right now is making sure everyone here stays safe. We’re setting up additional security measures, and we’d like you to have direct access to our team.”
Ronan pulled out his phone. “I’m creating a secure group chat—you, Olivia, your other partners, and our core team. Any concerns, anything that feels off, even if it seems minor?—”
“Like suspicious crossword enthusiasts?” Izzy interjected around a mouthful of pan dulce.
“Even those,” Ronan continued with admirable patience. “Text or call immediately. We’d rather check out a hundred false alarms than miss something important.”
Marisol nodded, suddenly serious. “What about Stuart and Janelle? Should I warn them?”
“We don’t think you or they are targets,” Axel said carefully, “but everyone should stay alert. If you could keep them updated without causing panic, that would be helpful.”
“Please,” Olivia added softly. “They deserve to know, but I don’t want them cutting their conference short.”
The conversation paused as Axel and Izzy began their systematic sweep of Olivia’s office. She watched them open every drawer, check every corner, their movements precise and respectful. But when Axel approached her filing cabinet, she felt her chest tighten.
Axel paused at the cabinet, his hand resting on the metal surface. “Olivia, we need to talk about your files.”
“I already moved all my active cases home last night,” she said, gesturing at the cabinet. “These are just archived records from former clients.”
“Smart move,” he acknowledged. “But we still need to consider the possibility that your attacker is connected to a patient, current or former.”
“They weren’t touched,” she insisted. “I checked everything?—”
“Look, Zara’s got this program that could help us spot any suspicious patterns, and before you say no again”—he held up a hand as she opened her mouth to argue—“her program doesn’t store anything. No names, no details. Her program simply looks for patterns. She’s got a scanner with an automatic feed. No one will get eyes on your notes. I mean that.”
“What about the digital files?”
“Once Zara feeds your notes into the program, all identifying information will be deleted. Then Zara will delete the scanned files themselves. Sound good?”
Olivia wrapped her arms around herself, feeling sick. These weren’t just files. They were people’s lives. Their darkest moments. Their hard-won victories. That’s why she’d always resisted digitizing her notes. The thought of someone violating that trust made her want to scream.
“Don’t stress,” Izzy chimed in, catching Olivia’s expression. “Zara’s hardcore about privacy. She’s got banks and hospitals using her systems. The woman’s like a digital fortress with attitude.”
Olivia moved to the filing cabinet, running her fingers along the drawer handles. Each folder inside represented someone who’d trusted her enough to share their pain, their hopes, their healing journey. The idea that someone might use that trust as a weapon ...
