Disavowed(27)

By nightfall the target would be dead and this job would be over.





Chapter Seven





Janaia checked for e-mails on her phone as she waited for the rental company to bring her vehicle around front. The sounds of traffic flowed around her, mixing with the murmur of voices in the office and the roar of jets landing and taking off at Denver International Airport.

There was nothing from that sanctimonious prick Balducci¸ and nothing from Briar. Not surprising, since the man was arrogant enough to think nothing could touch him, and Briar had gone dark with DeLuca last night. She knew Balducci was behind this, even if she couldn’t prove it.

Yet.

But she would. No matter how long it took, she’d find what she needed and get justice for Briar.

Briar still had no idea what had happened over the past few hours, or that teams would have been dispatched to find and arrest her by now.

Janaia had to get to her before anyone else and figure out a way to fix this mess. No one seemed to want to help considering the evidence the CIA had against her friend, so Janaia would take care of this herself.

She tucked the phone back into her pocket when the woman behind the desk called her name.

“Someone’s bringing your vehicle around for you now, ma’am. It’s a black Ford Explorer.”

“Thanks.” Janaia wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and slipped the strap of her backpack across her shoulder before stepping outside. The cold, brisk air seemed to sear her lungs for a moment. She’d been fighting a bug the past few days and her asthma always got worse in the cold. Winters in Colorado were not her friend.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her inhaler and took a hit. Almost immediately her bronchioles dilated, allowing her to breathe easier, her chest already feeling looser.

The Explorer appeared around the corner and slowed at the curb closest to her. The driver’s door opened and a man stepped out. Before he could say anything Janaia spoke. “I don’t need a run through of everything, I’m good,” she said, in a hurry to get to the house in Glenwood Springs. He stepped back without a word and walked toward the office, already tugging off his gloves.

Janaia slid behind the wheel, tossed her bag onto the passenger seat and shut the door. The interior was all toasty warm and she sighed at the feel of the seat heater warming her rear. It had a heated steering wheel too, she saw, so she took off her gloves and put them atop her bag. A few quick adjustments to the seat and steering wheel, and she was good to go.

She put the SUV into gear and turned out of the lot onto the airport access road. When she stopped at a light a minute later she noticed her chest had begun to feel inexplicably tight. Maybe the inhaler dosage hadn’t been enough. She tugged her scarf away from her neck, but it didn’t help ease the sensation that she was slowly being suffocated. She pulled out her inhaler, took another puff.

It didn’t help.

Her heart started to pound as her airway closed off. Janaia gasped, struggling to draw in air. Her hands shook so hard she couldn’t grip the steering wheel. The gasps turned to wheezes.

Panic set in.

She tore away her scarf and ripped the neckline of her sweater, her mouth opening and closing in an effort to breathe. Her vision began to blur. Horns blared in warning as the Explorer careened across the lanes of traffic. She jerked forward against the seatbelt when the vehicle slammed into a concrete support pillar. The airbag punched into her but she barely noticed, too busy clawing at her throat.

Help. I need help.

Blindly she undid her seatbelt buckle and groped for the door handle, managed to get it open. She fell out onto the road on her hands and knees as cars screeched to a halt around her.

No air.

Terror washed over her. She dropped onto her side on the frozen asphalt. Could feel the blood trapped in her face, her eyeballs bulging from the pressure, cold sweat coating her skin. Her stricken gaze shot back to the rental car office.

Help!

Then, through the panic, realization hit her.

The man. He’d been taking off his gloves as he walked away.

He’d killed her.

Denial and anguish exploded inside her. The world grayed, narrowed around her as her mouth opened and closed in a useless effort to suck in air.

Someone was crouched beside her, trying to turn her over onto her back. “Ma’am? Ma’am! Are you—she’s choking. Help, she’s choking!”

Janaia rolled her eyes toward them, tried to form the words to beg for help. Tell them what had happened.

Poison.

Nothing came out.

The voices around her began to fade along with her vision. The front of her neck was bleeding from where her own fingernails had slashed her skin. Her husband and children’s faces swam before her eyes.