Page 19 of Close Protection

The forest air hit her as she stepped out: cold, pine-scented, and alive with approaching dusk. Julia was already retrieving something from the trunk—a backpack, which she slung over one shoulder before grabbing Ivy's arm.

"We need to move," she said, her voice low. "Follow exactly in my footsteps. Touch nothing you don't have to."

"You're leaving the car?" Ivy asked, surprised.

"It's compromised. They could have placed a tracker while we were at the precinct." Julia started up a barely visible trail, her movements silent despite the carpet of fallen needles and twigs. "Morgan will retrieve it later."

Ivy followed, struggling to match Julia's soundless progress. Every twig that snapped beneath her feet felt like a beacon announcing their location. She wasaccustomed to navigating financial labyrinths, not actual forests.

"How far?" she whispered after several minutes of climbing.

"Far enough to establish distance, close enough to observe." Julia didn't slow her pace. "There's a ridge ahead with visibility of the road."

They continued in silence, the physical exertion warming Ivy despite the cooling evening air. Her city boots were entirely unsuited for hiking, the smooth soles slipping on patches of moss and loose earth. Julia seemed to anticipate this, occasionally extending a hand at particularly treacherous sections without commentary or condescension.

The simple points of contact—fingers gripping wrist, palm against palm—carried an unwelcome charge. Brief, necessary, and yet each touch conjured echoes of their night together.

Ivy pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on her increasingly labored breathing. She wasn't unfit, but her regular swims in the harbor hadn't prepared her for scaling a mountainside at twilight.

They reached a rocky outcropping just as the last direct sunlight faded from the sky. Julia motioned for Ivy to stay low as they approached the edge, which offered a clear view of the winding road below and the abandoned sedan.

"Now we wait," Julia murmured, settling into a position that looked casual but provided optimal sightlines. "And see who shows up."

Ivy sank down beside her, grateful for the chance to catch her breath. "How do you know they'll find the car?"

"Because they're professionals." Julia extracted a small pair of binoculars from her jacket pocket. "And because they want us to know they're looking."

"This is about intimidation, isn't it? Knox wants me afraid to testify."

Julia nodded, scanning the road below. "Fear is a powerful deterrent. Often more effective than actual violence."

"It won't work," Ivy said, the words emerging with unexpected conviction. "I don't scare easily."

Julia lowered the binoculars, studyingIvy with an expression she couldn't quite read. "I'm beginning to see that."

Something in her tone warmed Ivy despite the cooling air. She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware of how unprepared she was for a night in the mountains. Her light blazer might be appropriate for climate-controlled offices, but it offered little protection against the elements.

Julia noticed. Without comment, she shrugged out of her jacket and handed it to Ivy, leaving herself in a black long-sleeved tactical shirt.

"I'm fine," Ivy protested automatically.

"You're shivering," Julia countered. "And hypothermia won't help either of us." When Ivy hesitated, she added, "It's not a courtesy; it's a tactical decision."

The framing made acceptance easier. Ivy slipped the jacket on, immediately enveloped in residual body heat and the faint scent of sandalwood. She told herself the comfort she felt was purely physical.

"There," Julia whispered suddenly, raising the binoculars again. "Southwest approach."

Ivy squinted. At first, she saw nothing butdeepening shadows. Then movement caught her eye: two figures emerged from the tree line, approaching the abandoned sedan with weapons drawn.

"Knox's people?" she asked, voice barely audible.

Julia nodded, her entire body tensed in controlled alertness. "Based on their movement patterns, former military or specialized law enforcement. Not typical syndicate muscle."

The precision of her assessment reminded Ivy that Julia was in her element here. The disciplined, hypervigilant woman beside her was as much a professional in her field as Ivy was in financial forensics.

They watched as the two figures methodically examined the vehicle, one circling the perimeter while the other checked the interior. Even from this distance, their efficiency was evident. They were practiced, thorough, dangerous.

"They're looking for blood," Julia explained quietly. "Checking if we were injured or killed before abandoning the vehicle."

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