Page 56 of Trust No One

“No idea,” he said. “But I suspect it started at the pub in Virginia. That very first day. Somehow, he must have seen us there with Simon. Or at least saw us leaving.” Dev’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “But what reason would he have had to be there?”

“He had to suspect Simon was up to something,” Mel said. “The only question is why?”

“Simon’s apparently been gathering info on Kingsley for a while,” Dev said. “Kingsley must have found out about it somehow.”

Mel shuddered. “We can’t trust Simon and Caroline in a CIA safe house,” she said. “We need to get the FBI involved.”

“I suspect they’ll agree after this accident.” He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his fingers whitened. He slanted a look at her. “You think we can convince them?”

“Let’s find out about this accident before we start strategizing,” Mel said. “Maybe there was nothing suspicious about it.”

Dev shot her a look. “You really believe that?”

Mel sighed and slid down in the seat. “No,” she said quietly. “There are no coincidences in situations like this.”

“Agreed.” Dev’s voice was hard. Brittle.

They didn’t speak as Dev continued to maneuver in rush hour traffic. Mel kept watching for Kingsley’s silver car behind them but didn’t spot it.

And why would he be following them? If he’d been involved in the accident, and she’d bet he was, Kingsley would know exactly where they were going.

Finally, after what felt like hours, a tall building loomed in front of them. “That’s it,” Mel said. “They’re probably in the ER.”

“Yeah, we’ll start there,” Dev said, following the signs for the Emergency Room.

Ten minutes later, they stood at the desk in the ER. Mel said, “We’re here to see our friend. Simon Livingston. He was brought in this morning.”

The receptionist looked at her computer. “He’s been transferred to a room on the orthopedics floor. 407.” She pointed toward an elevator bank on her right. “Take those elevators to the fourth floor. Follow the signs to 407.”

“Thank you,” Mel said with a shaky smile.Orthopedics. That didn’t sound good. She grabbed Dev’s hand and towed him toward the elevators. Neither of them spoke when they got into the car. There were two other people, and Mel maneuvered herself and Dev into the corner, where their backs were against the wall and she and Dev were staring at the couple’s backs. She gripped his hand.

When the elevator dinged on the fourth floor, they slid out of the car and followed the signs to 407. When they found the room, a woman stood outside the door in typical bodyguard stance – legs apart at shoulder distance. Back erect. Head moving constantly from side to side. She wore a gun, prominently displayed on her right hip.

“We’re here to see Simon Livingston,” Mel said. “Caroline called us this morning.”

“Names?” she asked.

Mel told her, and the guard held out her hand. “IDs?”

The guard looked from their IDs to their faces for an uncomfortably long time, as if she was memorizing their features, then handed the IDs back to them. “Let me ask Caroline.”

She stepped inside the room. Came back less than a minute later and held the door open. “Go on in.”

Dev followed her into the room, where she found Caroline rising from a chair beside the bed. Simon’s face was white, an ugly bruise on his left cheek, eyes closed.

“Caroline.” Mel reached to hug her, and the woman shuddered as she let herself be embraced. Then she eased away.

“How is he?” Dev asked.

“He’s sleeping now. He’s bruised and he’s gonna be sore,” Caroline said. “Broken ribs. Fractured wrist.” Her mouth tightened. “But it could have been so much worse.”

“Was he able to tell you what happened?” Mel asked.

“Someone tried to T-bone him,” she said. “Came out of nowhere. Thank God he’d taken the defensive driving class the CIA offers. We both took it, long before this… this Kingsley thing came up. Because you never know when you might be a target.”

“So he didn’t take a direct hit on the driver’s side door?” Mel asked.

Caroline shook her head. “No, thank God. He reacted fast and swung the car to the right. The Oldsmobile hit the rear door and the fender. Simon’s car is probably totaled. The airbag caused the bruising on his face. The impact of the car slammed him against the door and broke his wrist and his ribs.”

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