Baz was likely already in the church.
The reporter beside him stopped.
“It’s going to be all right.” He’d been a bit of a bastard to her. He tried to think of what Penelope would say but then he would likely sound like an idiot. “I won’t let you die.”
Surely that was somewhat reassuring.
She sniffled. “I just wanted a story.”
“Well, you’re about to get one.”
“I think I’m going to switch to fiction after this.”
He opened the door for her. “Well, you can write about this.”
They moved into the odd gloom of the lobby. Up ahead, he could see the sanctuary and how light filtered in from the roof, but the lobby felt still, like the calm before the storm.
He glanced to his left where some stairs led to the lower part of the church. There was only a small velvet rope keeping the tourists out. Baz could come from there. Or the hallway beyond it.
He caught a glimpse of a man with dark hair walking the circular length of the sanctuary, his head close to the woman he walked hand in hand with.
God, he’d threatened her again with something he could never do. He hated the fact that Jake Dean’s fingers were entwined with hers even though he knew damn well the man was in love with his wife, had just had a baby with her. He still wanted to rip Penelope away from him.
“Do you see him?” He kept his head down, turned away from the security cameras.
Candice shook her head. “No.” She leaned over, speaking quietly. “I’m supposed to let him find me. We need to go sit on the third row opposite the organ. Apparently this whole place was built to house this organ thing.”
He forced himself to sling an arm around her shoulders. How the hell was he going to do his job when even touching a woman like this felt like he was cheating? He wasn’t, damn it. He wasn’t Penelope’s boyfriend, certainly wasn’t her Dom. She’d made that clear by rejecting everything he was.
“Is it always this scary?” Candice whispered.
He glanced over at Penelope and Jake. He thought about ignoring the girl. She’d made her bed. She should have to lie in it so she didn’t put herself in the same position again. She’d been brutally stupid and let her ambition cloud her judgment. He should leave her to hang, but Penelope chose that moment to put her face up to the sun that had finally come out from behind the clouds, lighting up the sanctuary.
Or maybe it was just her.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s going to be all right. You’re surrounded by professionals who have zero interest in letting you die.” The words were out of his mouth before he could think about them because Penelope would want him to be kind.
Was he going to spend the rest of his life thinking about what Penelope would want him to do? He was finding it difficult to do his job because she seemed to have taken up residence in his brain.
Candice glanced up at him. “Thanks. We should sit down. I don’t want him to think we didn’t show up.”
He stepped into the light toward the left of the church where the side was dominated by massive organ pipes that seemed to be set into the rocks of the wall. It was as though the church emerged from the rock it was built on. The place might have been a bit nondescript on the outside, but it was spectacular on the inside.
Candice moved toward the front of the church. The altar was simple but he was caught with how the light flowed in from above. The church’s copper ceiling was surrounded by wood and glass that allowed the sunlight to stream in and light the sanctuary up.
They sat down, pretending to study a guidebook.
It was only a moment before someone settled in behind him.
“Baz is here.” Jake Dean’s voice was very quiet.
Damon couldn’t reply so he simply nodded his head.
“Penny talked to a couple of the docents. She convinced them she was looking for her brother. They said he’d been in more than once and they’d seen him hanging around today.” Jake got back up and joined Penelope at the right wall where the faithful were lighting candles.
The sanctuary was filling up, but there was still a hushed atmosphere. People who shouted outside spoke in whispers in the church.
“I don’t think he’s a terrorist.” Candice’s words were barely audible.
“We’ll figure that out.” It didn’t matter in the end. He needed to complete this operation so he could focus his attention on figuring out Penelope because he knew damn well he couldn’t let her go.
“He told me he was trying to help.”
Because terrorists always told the truth. He had no idea whether this Bennett bloke was a terrorist or just looking to sell something nasty for cash.
Or if he was something else entirely.
Once it wouldn’t have mattered. He would have brought the fucker in and not looked back because at the end of the day, he was a weapon, nothing more. He was a tool that SIS used. They primed him and pulled the trigger.
But he didn’t feel that way anymore. Maybe it was the time he’d spent recovering with the McKay-Taggart crew. More than likely it was the time he’d spent inside Penelope, but he was different now. The man he’d been before Baz had pulled the trigger was dead and gone and someone new had taken his place.
He needed to figure out who this man was. It did matter. What he did mattered because it affected her. The man he was affected her.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“You won’t just shoot him?” Candice asked.
He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
There was a moment of silence. “Thank you.”
Someone moved in behind them. This wasn’t Jake, though he moved quietly. Damon heard the way the pew creaked under his weight. He closed his eyes as he listened. Male. He wasn’t sure why he thought the person behind them was male, but his instincts said it was so. He was breathing in a calm manner, but it was audible. He leaned back against the bench, making it bend against his weight.
“Candice? Is that you?”
Aussie. No mistaking that accent. Damn it. Unless Walter Bennett had put on a whole lot of weight and developed a really authentic accent, then they were in a bit of trouble.
Walter had hired some muscle. It was the only explanation. Smart boy. It’s exactly what Damon would have done. If he was on the run and knew damn well several people wanted his head on a silver platter, he would have hired some muscle to make sure his head stayed on his body.
Walter likely wasn’t actually here.
Slippery motherfucker.
Candice stiffened and started to turn around. Damon put a hand on her thigh to stay her. She stilled. “Yes. It’s me. I mean Candice. I’m Candice.”
There was a low chuckle. “Hello, Candice. I’m Brody Carter. I’m representing Walter Bennett. You need to understand that he has to know you haven’t been compromised. There are a lot of people looking for him.”
“From The Collective?” Candice asked.
It took everything Damon had not to curse.
Brody went quiet for a moment and then, “You know about them? Well, Walter heard you were smart. Is this Robert? Do you have all the papers we need to get Walter on board? I’ve got Robert’s plane tickets here.”
“Yes.”
Damon wouldn’t have believed her. Her answer was too quick. There had been a breathy gasp that accompanied it.
“Brilliant.”
Shit. The new guy’s voice had gone from relaxed to tense in a word. He’d heard the same thing in Candice’s voice, but he was too professional to give it away by questioning her.
And then he heard something that made his blood go cold. It was a laugh that held not an ounce of humor. “Oh, that’s not Robert Tilman. But then you’re not Walter Boy, are you?”