Page 45 of Ravaged With You

“No, ma’am,” the clerk said. “The rooms all have safes. I’ve been here since Mr. Corveau took over the property. As far as I know, this hotel never had deposit boxes.”

“I was so sure,” Jo said later when they were back in Red’s car. “It just made sense, you know?”

“Nothing about this makes sense.” He muttered a soft curse, as disappointed as she was that their potential lead crapped out.

“So what now?”

“I don’t know.”

Her eyes were wide as she looked at him. “We have to figure it out.” There was a hint of panic in her voice. “It’s not going to just go away.”

“No,” Red said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “And the longer it takes, the more insistent they’ll become.”

“By insistent, you mean violent. Like that’s going to suddenly make us remember that we know what the hell this stupid package is, and where Mel stashed it?”

The panic had morphed into fear and fury, but he didn’t try to calm her down or argue. She was right on all counts.

“We need to swing by my place,” he said, focusing on the pragmatic side of planning since he had nothing else up his sleeve. “I’m staying with you until this is sorted out, and I need to get a few things.”

He glanced sideways at her, expecting an argument, but she only nodded.

He took the next left, mentally rerouting them toward his mid-Wilshire condo rather than her house in the valley. The condo was old enough that it didn’t have parking, and he reached into the middle console for his resident parking pass, which he slid onto the dashboard.

He started looking for spaces on either side of the street once he was within a few blocks. Almost all the slots were full, some clearly not by residents. Like the dark car with tinted windows and no resident tag. He frowned, making a mental note as a bona fide miracle occurred, and a spot opened up right in front of his building.

“It’s our lucky day,” he told her.

She made a sour face. “If a parking space meets your standards, we really need to have a talk about what our goals here are.” But she was grinning as he reached her side of the car.

Before they started walking toward his building, he took a moment to survey his perimeter—a habit he’d acquired over the years, and not one he ever intended to break.

He frowned, considering that.

She tilted her head, studying him. “What’s wrong?”

“Not sure. I was thinking about Monday. I told you that someone nailed me with a Taser.”

She cringed, but nodded. “And?”

“They shouldn’t have been able to.”

“Well, duh. You’re Bad Ass Secret Agent Guy.”

“I’m serious. I always check my surroundings. It’s ingrained. I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to.”

She paused on the steps leading up to the main entrance. “What are you getting at?”

He took her arm and led her inside, then stopped in the entryway.

“These aren’t your average thugs we’re dealing with,” he said, his voice low. “Whoever they are, they’re pros.”

“I figured as much. I mean, think about the way they killed Mel.” She swallowed, clearly fighting a shudder. “And then the video. Maybe Mel got hooked up with, I don’t know, the mafia or something. Maybe they wanted him to launder money.”

“No, you’re not understanding me. I don’t mean professional criminals. I mean they’re operatives. They’re like me—like I was, anyway. Probably retired. Definitely skilled.”

“Oh.” The word was small, but she followed it with a forced smile. “So I guess we’re living in an action movie.”

He made a rough noise in his throat. “And despite turning down Stark’s offer, it looks like I’m back in that goddamn life. At least for a little while.”