Page 17 of Relentless
And he didn’t want to risk it coming back to bite him on the ass.
“Hey, Kara, do you have a minute?” he asked.
She had one foot on the stairs and looked to be heading up to her room. Where he couldn’t follow.
“Of course,” she said, stepping back down. Just then, her phone rang, though. He remained silent as she glanced at the number. He noted the quick frown that touched her lips before she flashed him an apologetic look. “I need to get this. Can we talk later?”
No. “Whenever you have the time,” he said instead.
Her eyes searched his then she flashed him a smile as she started up the stairs, answering the call as she climbed.
He watched her go and with each step, the sinking feeling in his gut sank a little more. It wasn’t as though he’d been keeping his suspicions from her for long. Hell, it hadn’t even been twelve hours since he’d even confirmed something was off with the deaths of Shelley White and Sunil Shah. Even so, he wondered if he’d just shot himself in the foot.
CHAPTERSEVEN
“Tell me about Shelley White,”Sabina said as they ambled along the trail. Although calling the well-groomed fire road a trail was a bit of a misnomer. But it wound along the mountainside and through forests so was a lovely walk. Gina O’Rourke, the woman who’d helped her and her sister stay hidden for so many years, and their honorary aunt, had joined them. Killian, one of the operatives from HICC, led the way, staying several hundred yards ahead.
“How do you know about Shelley?” Kara asked, more curious than concerned. She hadn’t told anyone other than Ethan about her colleague, and she wondered how her sister knew.
“Ethan mentioned it to Chad, who told me,” Sabina responded. She should have known. In the ten months Kara had known the Warwicks, she’d learned there were very few secrets among them. Not that Shelley’s death was a secret.
“You probably already know the gist of it, then. But she died of a heart attack,” Kara answered, relaying what Scarlett had told her.
“She was young, wasn’t she?” Gina asked. Kara looked up at her aunt before answering. With her and Sabina on either side of Gina, they presented an interesting study in contrast to anyone they passed. Two petite,veryfair Irish women walking on either side of a five-foot-ten lean Black woman with salt-and-pepper curls cropped tight against her head. And while she and Sabina wore generic hiking gear—low boots, fitted capris, and lightweight sun-blocking tops—Gina sported Doc Martens, skintight jeans, and a faded black Sex Pistols T-shirt.
“Thirty-five,” Kara confirmed.
“And no preexisting conditions?” Sabina asked.
Kara shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. I called her father a few days ago to offer my condolences. They’re heartbroken, of course, and I didn’t want to pry.”
“But you’re curious,” Sabina said.
“Of course I am. She was young and vibrant and a great colleague. It’s in people’s nature to want answers when something like this happens,” Kara replied.
“It is,” Gina agreed. “When was the last time you worked with her?”
“My last assignment, actually. We were in South Sudan for a month.” Both her sister and Gina gave little hums of commiseration.
“Chad said there was another colleague who died recently, too?” Sabina asked.
Again, Kara nodded. “It’s odd that two people I worked with died within days of each other. But I suspect it happens more than I know.”
“What do you mean?” Gina asked.
Kara shrugged. “The agency works with thousands of medical professionals. Some, like Shelley and me, are on staff. But most, like Sunil—Dr. Shah—are volunteers. Statistically speaking, it’s not odd that two people associated with the program would die in a short period of time. Itisunusual that we all worked together on the last assignment. But life, as they say, is unpredictable.”
Sabina frowned. “I hadn’t realized Dr. Shah was on the same assignment as you and Shelley. How many were in the group?”
Kara mentally ran through the roll call. “Eleven. No, twelve. There were four doctors, seven nurses, and one administrator.”
“Is it common to have an administrator in the field?” Gina asked.
Before Kara answered, Sabina drew them to a halt and pointed. Forty feet from the trail, a doe and her baby were picking at the ground. The mother raised her head and eyed them, her tail twitching. They stood still, watching her. A beat passed, then another before she decided they weren’t a threat and went back to her search for food.
Kara inhaled deeply, the scents of pine and earth washing over her like the best kind of aromatherapy. Then she answered Gina’s question as they began walking again. “Not on established programs,” she said. “But for new programs or programs in high-risk areas, we generally have an admin along.”
“Did your agency consider South Sudan high-risk or new?” Sabina asked.
