until he proves otherwise.â
âSo, what are we going to do?â
He shot her a look. âBait the trap.â
Â
Ian made several phone calls on the way back to the beach house; however, he made sure no one knew where they were going. Using the encrypted phone Jase had supplied, Ian didnât worry about anyone tracing his calls.
At first, Gina listened in; then Ian watched her lids grow heavier and heavier, the restless night taking its toll. Finally, they shut for good and he could see her even breathing indicating sleep had won.
He glanced at the clock: 5:30 in the morning on what would be a cold but bright, sunny day. Right now the temperature hovered in the low thirties. Ginaâs questions still pounded at him. When heâd said his leaving probably saved the unit, he hadnât been exaggerating. Mario knew how Ian felt about Gina simply because Mario had a reputation for playing the women. And Ian called him on it.
After a mission several years ago, theyâd all been out celebrating, and Mario had started responding to a womanâs flirtatious advances. Ian walked up and asked him, âIs Gina so easy to forget?â
Mario took a swing, which Ian dodged, then hauled his friend out of the restaurant. Out on the sidewalk, Mario narrowed his eyes. âYouâre in love with her, arenât you?â
Stunned, Ian hadnât responded at first. Mario had taunted him. âI see the way you look at her. How your eyes follow her every move. Admit it.â
In silence and without responding, Ian had clenched his jaw and his fistâand walked away. For good. His transfer request went through without a problem, and within two weeks he was part of another unit.
Forcing his thoughts from the past, he dialed Jaseâs number once more. His buddy answered on the first ring. âWhere are you?â
âAbout ten minutes out. Whatâs it look like?â Ian kept his voice low, not wanting to disturb Gina.
âClear for now. Because of Ginaâs worries, I came to check it out myself instead of finding someone from the unit. The house is a mess, though. Theyâre looking for something.â
âHas anyone noticed and reported it to the police yet?â
âNot that I can tell. Itâs pretty isolated out here. Mario liked it that way.â
Ian hesitated. âAre you willing to keep helping me out a little more on this, Jase?â
Silence on the line.
âJase?â
âWhatever it takes to keep Gina safe. She didnât deserve to lose Mario the way she did. Sheâs still one of our own.â A pause, then, âSo, yeah. Iâll do whatever I can to help her.â
âWhat about me? Do you think I betrayed the unit by leaving?â
More silence. âYou could have told us why you were leaving. Maybe we could have worked something out.â
âMario knew.â
Jase grunted. âHe didnât share.â
Ian didnât think he had. âYeah.â
âRight. See you in a few.â
Ian put his own phone away, thinking. He trusted Jase, but it was quite possible Mario hadnât. Or was it that he hadnât trusted the unit as a whole? Or maybe he had suspicions about one particular person, but no proof, so he had to isolate himself from everyone until he figured it out?
That was probably it. He knew someone was bad but didnât know which someone. What information had he come across to make him suspicious of one of his team members? What had he seen or been told?
And now Mario was dead. Blown away on a routine training exercise. Not that accidents didnât happen on occasion, butâ¦
Hands down, Ian was willing to bet Mario had trusted the wrong person. None of his paranoia about whom he could trust had paid off. Heâd died anyway. Possibly killed by one of his own.
The question wasâwho?
The possibilities were endless.
And Jase had been a member of that unit.
Now Ian second-guessed