Page 4 of Nora
“He left his position.”
“As would most people when the love of your life is brutally murdered, and you think it’s your fault.” Her heart was beating an erratic tattoo.
“Was it his fault?”
Nora’s eyes narrowed. “As far as I know, no one knows who actually killed her. It could have been a vagrant, a clever neighbor, or someone from his other life. Regardless, it doesn’t matter. He blamed himself and no doubt left his position because he knew he was no good to anyone.”
Franklin held her gaze. “Possible. Or he left believing the work his government asked him to do was the reason for his wife’s murder, and he’s been harboring a grudge ever since.”
Nora shook her head. “If he harbored a grudge, he wouldn’t have agreed to be a trainer for a government-led project.”
Franklin’s cool blue eyes assessed her, then he inclined his head. “Perhaps. But I expect you to treat him as you do all the others.”
“Franklin,” she said. Just his name. She wasn’t sure what else to say.
“I trust you grasp the sensitivity of the situation and why I wanted you assigned. It isn’t just that someone on a NATO program is killing innocent people. But the fact that one of the suspects is a former agent forAgenzia Informazioni e Sicurezza Esternahas everyone walking on eggshells.”
Nora’s gaze dropped back down to the paper. A former Italian intelligence agent was most definitely a suspect. A man she’d known for twenty years. A man who had been her one and only one-night stand.
A man who was also Six’s cousin.
Lucian Salvitto.
CHAPTERTWO
Nora providedher ID to the man staffing the gatehouse of the training grounds. The facility was no longer an army base, but it was still under military control, and the guard was kitted out in field camo, boots, and a weapon.
“Will this be the car you’ll be bringing in and out of the facility, ma’am?” he asked. She nodded, and he made a note on the clipboard he held. Cold air seeped through her partially open window as the man did whatever he needed to do to clear both her and her car. Then finally, he handed back her ID.
“Follow this road and at the first stop sign, turn left. You’ll see the main facilities on your right about three hundred meters down.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. She started to roll her window up, then stopped. “Is there a trail system on the grounds?” She didn’t miss the flicker of interest in the man’s blue eyes—his very young eyes. Which did not hurt her ego at all. “I like to run in the mornings,” she added.
“There are a lot of trails. Any particular distance you like?” he asked.
“My preference is five to seven miles, but I can work with longer or shorter.”
“The perimeter route is six point two miles. If you continue down the road past the facilities where you’ll be staying, you’ll see a trailhead at the very end. It’s a well-used trail, so you definitely won’t get lost.” He eyed her again, and she was starting to like this young man. “There’s a group of us who go out at five each morning and run it,” he said. “We run a steady seven-minute mile. If you want to join us, we usually pass by the trailhead I just told you about around fifteen minutes after five.”
She smiled. “Thank you, I may do that.”
His gaze lingered, then he smiled, nodded, and stepped back so he could raise the gate for her. She gave him a little wave, then drove through. Following his directions, she pulled into the designated parking lot for the building she’d call home for the next three weeks. Well, for most of the next three weeks. Shehadnegotiated two nights off, but only two. One for a date she had already scheduled, and the second for the collective birthday celebration for her, Cyn, Six, and Devil. All their birthdays fell within ten days of one another, and it had become a tradition to have a single big blowout party to celebrate all four. There was no way she was going to miss it.
After grabbing her rolling suitcase and duffel bag from the back of her Land Cruiser, she locked the vehicle and made her way inside where another soldier greeted her. This time a woman who looked to be in her early thirties.
“You must be Dr. Amiri,” she said, rising from a makeshift reception table. “I’m Staff Sergeant Markley, the army liaison for this training session and your general coordinator extraordinaire,” she added with a smile.
Nora shook the woman’s hand. “Yes, I’m Nora Amiri. Please call me Nora.”
Staff Sergeant Markley nodded, though Nora doubted the woman would take her up on the offer to call her by her first name. “Follow me and I’ll give you a quick tour before I show you to your room.” She started walking toward a set of double doors, talking as she did. “Through these doors, you’ll see the main lounge area that the group, including the K9s, is more than welcome to use. There’s a kitchen as well should anyone wish to cook. There are a couple of bars and restaurants within walking distance, but the grocery stores are a bit farther away. You have a car so it’s less relevant, but many of the stores will deliver should attendees of the program choose to do that.”
They pushed through the doors and walked into an area that was surprisingly homey. Nora had expected industrial chic, but what greeted her looked more like a large British pub. Wide-plank floors gave way to dark wood-paneled walls. A fireplace, surrounded by couches and chairs, anchored the left side of the room. A pool table and a foosball table lay to the right. There were also several alcoves and window seats that invited her to curl up and read a book. They’d also be good spots to watch the snow fall. Not that snow had fallen yet, but over the next three weeks, she had faith it would. And when it did, she knew where she’d be.
Behind the fireplace area, she could see a kitchen. From where she stood, she couldn’t see it in its entirety, but if it was anything like the lounge, she suspected it would be more than well-stocked.
“I assume the program isn’t expecting people to cook for themselves every day,” Nora said. “Is there a mess hall or cafeteria?”
Markley nodded. “Leave your bags here for a moment and I’ll show you the rest of the common areas,” she said, then motioned to her left. Nora set her roller bag against a wall but kept her duffel and followed. “The kitchen is here, as I’m sure you guessed,” Markley said, leading them by the room that also held a single dining table long enough to seat twenty people. “To the left here”—Markley waved at a series of closed doors as they started down a hallway—“are the offices. This is mine,” she said, pointing to one. “If you ever need anything, I’m usually there.” Nora nodded, and they continued toward the end of the hall.
