Page 12 of Freeing Savannah

Voodoo studied her. The tightness in her shoulders. The way she didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“What aren’t you telling me, Olivia?”

She looked up at him then, and for a breath he saw the cracks in her composure. Saw the woman behind the pearls and power. The one who made sure there were always popsicles and Band-Aids readily available, especially for the two of them.

She glanced toward Savannah and the Senator, then back at him, visibly struggling with what to say. “There’s nothing specific. Just . . . whispers. A few odd things I’ve overheard. I suspect Harlan has ulterior motives for pushing this diplomatic tour, but I can’t pinpoint them. If he knew we were having this conversation . . .”

“He’s too busy preening for the cameras to notice us,” Voodoo stated, his voice dripping with disgust. A derisive snort escaped Olivia’s lips, and Voodoo’s eyes widened, startled by the sudden break in her calm demeanor. “What else can you tell me?”

Voodoo stood still, watching Olivia twist that ring around her finger like she was circling a decision she didn’t want to make. From what he knew of her, Savannah’s mother didn’t rattle easily. But right now? She looked like a woman holding onto a secret with barbed wire.

“Last week, I passed Harlan’s office late at night,” she said. “He was on the phone. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. But I heard him say, ‘Make sure she’s kept in the dark. She must never know.’”

Voodoo blinked. “You think he was talking about Savannah?”

“I don’tknow.” Her voice wavered. “He said something about not wanting it traced back to the administration. Then he noticed me and ended the call. Brushed it off. Said it was about diplomatic travel.”

“And you didn’t believe him.”

“I tried to. I don’t know. I’ve tried to ask about the possible security risks, but no one will give me a straight answer.” She looked up at him, eyes full of something he couldn’t name. Fear, guilt, maybe both. “That’s when I insisted private security was hired for her. I told Harlan in no uncertain terms that my daughter would not be participating in the tour unless she had a bodyguard.”

“How did that go over?” He figured Senator Harlan McNabney would not take kindly to such an ultimatum.

“Better than I thought. He relented quickly. Almost too quickly.”

“And that made you even more suspicious,” Voodoo guessed.

“And that’s why I made sure Harlan hired Condor’s Overwatch.”

“What?” To say Voodoo was shocked by this revelation was an understatement.

“I’ve followed your career for some time. Discretely. Always with the hope I could bring the two of you together again. When Harlan relented, I made sure Condor’s Overwatch was at the top of his list of choices. A private conversation with your boss ensured you were chosen for this assignment.”

There was more to Olivia McNabney than met the eye. She’d expertly manipulated her husband and even Flynn “Flint” Condor, Voodoo’s boss. What else was she capable of? And why go to all this trouble?

He felt it then—that gut-deep pull, the quiet tension he hadn’t been able to name. There was something coming. Something bigger than crowded concert venues, diplomatic relations, and propaganda. Olivia’s next words made that knot in his gut tighten even further.

“Sawyer, he keeps referring to Savannah like she’s a . . . tool. A distraction. He told someone on the phone she was ‘more valuable on this tour than she’ll ever be on a stage.’”

Voodoo’s voice came out low and sharp. “Valuable towho?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked. “He talks in riddles. Half of it sounds diplomatic, the other half like a damn spy novel.” Olivia’s voice was flat. “I think something bigger is going on, and she’s being used as leverage or bait, or God knows what. And I think Harlan knows more than he’s admitting.”

Voodoo leaned back, jaw tight, heart pounding with something cold and dangerous. He thought of Savannah out there. Smiling for the press, trusting the team around her, trusting herstepfather, walking into a spotlight that might be a sniper’s bullseye.

“She doesn’t know any of this, does she?” he asked.

Olivia shook her head. “No. I couldn’t do that to her without proof. This tour is going to be hard enough on her. She’s never been able to adjust well to life in the spotlight.”

A smile touched Voodoo’s lips, pleased to find that certain things never changed even amidst the passage of time.

Olivia rotated the ring on her finger once more, its large solitaire diamond sparkling brilliantly as it reflected the bright overhead lights. “These doubts . . . they are all I can think about. I don’t want to believe Harlan would do something to hurt my baby girl, but . . .”

“But you don’t trust him.”

“I used to. Now I watch him lie to my face with a politician’s smile and I wonder if I ever knew him at all.”

Voodoo shifted his stance, falling back into his military training. Controlled, alert, ready.

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