Melody's Six

On a job and colliding with a killer from her past? Big problem.

Tension gripped his shoulders. They were a team. Although he had absolute faith in her abilities, he didn’t trust the situation. And though she would argue that his viewpoint was outdated, he felt a certain responsibility to protect her.

It wasn’t just about chivalry—which in his mind shouldn’t be dead anyway. Add up all of his military training with his natural tendencies and he couldn’t be anything or anyone else. All his life he’d stood up for others, starting with the playground bully back in grade school all the way to his role on the Spec Ops teams.

“Know what’s really bugging me?” He slowed down for the turn as the group left the highway. “How did this guy get into the country? His face is plastered all over the walls of every law enforcement and border patrol agency. Someone should’ve noticed him.”

“You know as well as I do that money makes many things possible. Private transport, small airfields, settling in a remote area.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I can see it happening.”

Dean grunted. She made it seem way too easy and that annoyed him more. “You’re right.”

“Although the odds of succeeding are better with the right help along the way,” she added. “Someone had to help him buy this place. I’m betting Spalding was involved somehow. The two of them are too close. The Azizi I knew didn’t make friends because he liked people. It was solely about what they could do for him.”

“Makes sense.” Dean drummed his fingers on his thigh. “From what I heard Spalding took a lot of risks when he was doing that military documentary. Going off on his own and pushing the limits set by his security.”

“That would’ve given Azizi an opening.”

“Exactly,” Dean agreed.

“I wonder if Azizi brought any family along.” She peered through the windshield, taking in their stunning surroundings. “He had two wives when I met with him. Several unmarried daughters and sons. Any number of cousins, etc. Most of the men were involved in his illegal operations. Not that they had much choice.”

“Maybe he came to Colorado to go legit.” Wouldn’t be the first time. With the right connections, men like Azizi often climbed from ugly beginnings and shady businesses to join respectable society.

“It fits. Back then, the man was a ruthless control freak,” Mel continued. “Seeing him smile like that at the airport was downright weird. Hard for me to picture him walking away from all of that lucrative business.”

Seeing the vehicles ahead bounce over a rut in the road, Dean slowed a little more. “He was a money-making machine?”

“Pretty much.” Mel tucked her phone away into the bag between her feet. “Between the poppy fields, plotting IED strikes, stealing and selling weapons to the army du jour, he was rolling in dough. He’s not the sort who walks away from a profit.”

On the next rise, a sprawling house came into view, sheltered by the mountain behind it. The late afternoon light cast a glow over the natural stone and woodwork. The metal roof was a study in steep, dramatic pitches and stretched over a wide front porch. From this angle, they could see a multi-tiered outdoor space that hugged the house and surely extended around to the back.

Dean whistled. “Looks like he invested a chunk of that profit right here.”

“You aren’t kidding.”

“Where does that leave us with this director?” Dean kept the truck creeping along. If anyone asked, he’d tell them the truth: it’s hard to drive when you’re awestruck by the view. “Is Spalding in danger?”

“I wish I knew,” she grumbled. “Time will tell. We’ll have to get those two talking, reminiscing about the good old days or something, and see where their stories take us.”

“Are we sure the movie is legit?” he asked, thinking aloud. “What if the location scouting is a cover to help Azizi with some kind of illegal job?”

“The studio is the client,” Mel reminded him. “If they knew their hotshot director was hanging out with a crime boss from Afghanistan, I’m sure they would’ve said something.”

“One could hope,” he muttered. His instincts were on high alert. Clients often left out helpful details, though it was rarely deliberate. “If Azizi hasn’t left all of his illegal tendencies overseas and he gets hold of the drone coverage, he’d have a leg up on creating smuggling routes and rendezvous points, or even plan a land grab.”

She swore under her breath. “One week, Dean. We’re here to keep Spalding and the others safe. Beck knows what we know. All we can do is work the assignment.”

“I know.” A chill drifted down the back of his neck as they passed through the iron gates that parted for the lead car. A compact guard shack was tucked away, only visible after they were through. “Head’s up,” Dean warned.

“I see it,” she confirmed.

They weren’t even a hundred yards in and he felt as if they were being watched from all sides. He could tell by Mel’s tight smile, locked and unflinching, she sensed it too.

He parked in the wide circular drive of the massive house, at the end of the line of vehicles. Cutting the engine, he was swamped by the grim certainty that for the first time, they were in over their heads on this one.

Although he believed in positive thinking, he had no idea how he was he going to keep them both safe in this lion’s den.