Page 82 of Sapphire Storm

Jonas opened his laptop and set it on the coffee table.“Indeed. Donnie actually worked with us during the big crisis we had a fewyears ago.”

Nodding and smiling, Donnie added, “And I’ve tried to get inhis pants ever since, but he always shuts me down. I’m a little down-market forhim. Jonas is a fancy guy.”

Jonas was also ignoring this ribbing and opening up windowson his computer.

“He went toGeorgetown,” Donnie added in a dramaticwhisper.

“Correct. I’m a fancy guy with friends at the Wyman in SanDiego. And I was able to get you this footage of yourfriendRoman Walkeron the surveillance cameras this morning.” With several efficient keystrokes,Jonas opened three different QuickTime files, then he stepped away from thecomputer to give Ethan and Donnie room to crowd in. “Play the lobby one first.”

The camera angle was a wide shot that included the long rowof automatic entry doors and the walls of plate glass on either side as well.To the right of the screen were the reception desks, and in the near distance,a corridor that led to the twenty-four-hour deli and the larger restaurantbeyond. The sight of Roman walking in the direction of the camera, a skip in hisstep, holding a white paper bag just like the one he’d brought the Danishes inthe morning before, seemed like some intrusive memory of a past life that haddied early that morning.

“Are you sure this is today?” Ethan asked.

But it was a silly question. When Jonas tapped the bottom ofthe open window, Ethan saw it was both date and time stamped.

Just then, a hulking figure moved through the automaticdoors with such speed and direction it was clear the man had been watchingRoman from the other side of the glass. He wore chinos and a short sleevekhaki-colored shirt and sported a bushy mustache and mutton-chop sideburns. Inthe instant before the man took him firmly by one arm, Roman looked at him withmuted surprise, like he recognized the guy but wasn’t alarmed to see him. Theystarted walking together toward the camera as the man held Roman’s left armwith a threatening amount of force. Whatever words he was quietly saying asthey both self-consciously faced forward turned Roman’s expression to one ofshock and outrage.

Roman froze, spun, attempted to pull out of the man’s grip.Mustache Man responded by turning them to face each other. He didn’t seemangry. He seemed determined, controlled—like someone resigned to do the best ofan unpleasant job. Roman bowed his head and shook it. Fighting tears.

“Who the hell is that guy?” Ethan finally asked.

“He pops up behind Diana Peyton in a bunch of her red-carpetphotos,” Donnie answered. “Probably her bodyguard or something.”

On screen, Roman raised his head as Mustache Man gripped himby his shoulders. Heart in his throat, Ethan watched Roman look back in thedirection of the elevators, eyes wide.

Crying.

Crying as he looked in the direction of the room he’d sharedwith Ethan for two nights. Then he sagged with something that looked likedefeat, and when the man extended one hand, Roman reached into his pocket,removed his phone, and handed it over.

Ethan’s first deep breath in hours thundered through hislungs and brought oxygen to parts of his body that had felt starved allmorning.

Because the time of the exchange was right there on thescreen. 8:30 a.m.

Roman had handed over his phone forty-five minutes beforethe text had been sent.

“Show the hallway one,” Donnie said.

Jonas complied.

This view was of the gently curving guest corridor outsidetheir room. When Roman appeared, with Diana’s bodyguard still holding his arm,Ethan’s heart dropped. Seeing both men in the same pose in another part of thehotel drove home the extent to which Roman had been overpowered, threatened.When they came to a stop outside the door to Ethan’s room, Roman gave hisabductor a miserable look before stepping inside. Then Mustache Man put his armout to keep the door from closing all the way so that he could eavesdrop and watch.

He felt the gentle kiss Roman had given him that morning,remembered the low sniffle he’d blamed on a possible cold. Not a cold. Tears.And a kiss was all he could give because someone had been waiting for him rightoutside.

A minute or so later, Roman emerged from the room with hisbag, watching the carpet as he walked. When Mustache Man reached out for hisshoulder, Roman jerked away from him as if he’d been scalded, then raised ahand warning the guy not to come any closer.

“See,” Donnie said, “sometimes I know things.”

Ethan reached out and gripped his friend’s shoulder. But hedidn’t want to get too emotional in front of Jonas. How much of the story didhis coworker know? The man in question was standing off to the side now,watching them impassively, hands folded primly over his crotch.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “this stays between us. I have a lotof experience with secrecy.”

Was he referring to his knack for never spilling any detailsabout how he’d spent the first part of his adulthood, or was he referring tohow he’d actually spent those years? Speaking of past professions…

“And how much have you been told?” Ethan asked, but he waslooking at Donnie.

“Just enough,” Donnie said. “If he wants to know the rest,he’s going to have to give me the goodies.”

“That’s never happening, Sex Monster,” Jonas said calmly.

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