“What do you mean?” Hope asked in alarm.

The younger agent walked to the window and looked outside while the older one talked. “If Frye told you more than he should, your life is also on the line. Whoever is after him will think you know more.”

Hope shook her head. “But he didn’t tell me anything about the case. He told me about his history, but nothing specific. He was careful not to reveal so much because of the case.”

As the older agent continued to stare at her with doubt, the younger one’s phone started ringing. Hope and the old agent turned their heads to look at him as he answered and listened. The call lasted for more than a minute and when it was done, he replaced his phone in his coat pocket. “They got him,” he said to his partner and turned to Hope with a skeptical look. “They told us to keep watch over her.”

“Wait, what’s going on? Keep watch of me? They got who?” Alarm was building up inside her.

“We have Devin Frye and he’s safe.”

Her eyes watered with relief but there was so much doubt. What if these guys were just like Burton? What if they were playing with her?

“But they told us that you might be in danger,” the younger agent added.

Her head snapped at him with surprise. She was not sure if she could trust them anymore. “From whom? You?”

The older agent stepped toward her and she held out her hand which was still hooked to the IV. “Don’t come near me or I’ll scream.”

“Relax, Miss Madden, we are the good guys here. Burton called us.”

“But Burton is—”

“I will bet everything—including my life—that Burton doesn’t mean any harm. He was just doing his job.”

“I don’t understand—”

“We don’t expect you to understand. What we want you to tell us though,” said the younger one, “is why they think—Devin thinks—that someone else is still after you, someone we are not aware of.”

Hope frowned. “Can you explain what’s going on? Is Devin really alright?”

“He is. He is back under our protection and Burton made sure of that. But he thinks someone other than the mob is after you.” When she continued to look at him with confusion, he continued, “None of us—the mob or the FBI—was responsible of Carl Briggs’ death.”

It took her more than ten seconds to finally process what he was trying to say. And then her heart started beating. Denial crept in fast. “No. You guys killed him. The gunman who came after us killed Carl.”

The older agent shook his head. “We know the people working for us and the mob. The guy Devin killed was sent by the mob. But none of us sent for Briggs. We had other plans for him and one of them is putting him behind bars for life. We had no reasons to kill him.”

The younger agent turned to his partner. “Burton said someone else drove off with Briggs’ patrol car the night he died.”

“We thought he was the same guy who tried to kill us,” Hope spoke.

The older agent was frowning. “We thought he killed himself.” He turned to Hope and asked once more, “Do you know anyone who would want you other than the mob?”

Hope had thought of that when everything was in a blur that night they escaped. “The only thing I can come up with is that Carl had other friends who wanted revenge.” Her eyes turned to the agent. “If it was not the mob, then who was it?”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with Frye or the case we are working on,” the old agent answered.

His partner looked at Hope, his eyes strong and serious. “You—or Carl Briggs—have your own enemies, Miss Madden.”

*****

The more he thought of the unfortunate events that had happened to him and Hope, Devin couldn’t help but think that the two of them were no more than victims. They were just two small pieces on a chessboard. Different sides working for their own gains and none really cared what happened to the smaller pieces as long as the end game was in their favor. The two of them had no idea what was going on or who were playing the games. They were just told what they needed to know and they were expected to play their part. None of them was ready for all the fighting and the guns.

They were merely victims who needed to stay alive because the game was not over yet. They never did anything right from the moment they escaped. Other people were doing the saving all along. Other people were doing the killings all along. Other people were playing the game for them.

He wondered if there was anything they could do that the players wouldn’t know—if they could even have their normal lives back.

Everything was just a series of events, a rollercoaster ride that ended up exhausting them. They were not in control of everything. All they did was join the ride.

“What are these?” Burton asked as he took a look at the notebook Devin threw.

“It’s Carl’s list of contacts. I tried to call them before but none of them gave any clues as to what that guy was really up to. We believe that he has these contacts to pull off a lot of things. He even managed to make the authorities believe that the body in that barrel found in a storage space was Hope herself. He couldn’t have just pulled it off on his own, right? He has other contacts, other people whom he could have paid or threatened or used. He was capable of that and I believe that it was because of that list.”

“If the people in this list really knew him, then they must know by now that he is dead.”

“I know. As a matter of fact, one of them knew it was not Carl who was calling him when I tried to call the number. And that happened even before the news of Carl being found in his home broke out. It could only mean two things: he really knew Carl to recognize it was not his voice or he was the one who sent for Carl to be killed.”

“Fuck.” Burton shook his head as he flipped through the pages. They were driving fast back to the hospital with another agent doing the driving. “He was more than just one sick bastard.”

“It seemed that everything was planned. The body in the barrel, the DNA result—everything. But Carl was just another useless piece on the board. Hope’s abduction was premeditated by someone else.”

“Your imagination is running way ahead of you, Frye,” Burton uttered. “I don’t like this. We don’t need this kind of complication. Your girl might not be in real danger, you know. Briggs was the one who got killed, not her. If the killer wanted her dead, then she would have been dead the same time Briggs died. Let’s hand this over to another team to work on. You are my priority at the moment—”

“The fuck I am!” He burst out, leaning over to grab Burton’s shirt collar. “Don’t tell me whether or not the killer was after Carl alone or not. What I think happened is that the killer went out for a drive to dispose of the other girl’s dead body. He went back thinking Hope and Samantha were safely chained in her rooms only to find out that they were gone. No one really knows what that killer had in mind. You should check on Samantha and her parents as well.” He checked if Burton knew about Samantha and by the look on his face, he did. So it was only Patty they didn’t know about and it angered him even more. “I say you work on this case and I will reconsider trusting you once again.”

Burton turned his head toward Devin with a sigh. “You really do like this girl, don’t you?”

“What I like is to know that she—including Samantha—will be safe for a very long time. And right now, I don’t believe she can live that long if you guys don’t—”

“Relax,” Burton said, shoving his hand away. “I already told the agents who are with her to stay and watch over her. Another one is on his way to Samantha’s house. But this might not be for long because we haven’t received any reports of any threats. They, especially Hope, had only been in danger because of you. What happened to Briggs might not be entirely connected to the girls.” He returned his attention back on the notebook and fished for his phone. “But since these numbers are quite intriguing, why don’t we start making calls?”

Devin was almost ready to jump out of the car. They had reached the hospital.

“Don’t get out. We’re living in ten minutes,” Burton ordered as he started to dial a number.

“Call the last number,” he ordered Burton as the car entered the hospital parking lot.

“Relax. Two of our best agents are with her,” Burton said. He handed the driver the notebook and added, “While we’re doing our little investigation, pitch these numbers to our tech and have them checked in the system. Cross-match them to names related to Carl Briggs, Samantha Harlow and Hope Madden.” The driver did not say a word but he picked up his own phone to call someone about the list of numbers. All Devin could do was scoff in disbelief. These guys knew Samantha’s name and they did not even do anything to help the little girl. “And stay in the car, Frye. You’re not getting out. I want this case over with tonight and then you’re off to your new home,” he said to Devin before he placed the phone against his ear.

*****

The two agents decided to talk to the medical professionals that were directly working on Hope’s case.

“They want to make sure that no one other than the nurses and doctors can come in here,” her mother explained, her brows knitted with worry. “I can’t believe this is happening after everything. We just found you and now this?!”

Hope could not give an answer. She was full of questions herself. Who would want her dead? The only thing she could think of were the list of contacts she and Devin found. Carl had been in contact with people who obviously didn’t like him. One or more of them might think that she knew something.

But she had never had someone after her other than the people who were after Devin and that was for certain. No one had showed up for her or Samantha. It was all about Devin all along. She wondered if the FBI or Devin were just overthinking things. Maybe she was safe after all. Maybe it was Carl who had enemies. Maybe that man who took off with Carl’s patrol car took off for good because his job was done. He had killed Carl and his job was over. He never came back, did he?

The only thing she was relieved of at the moment was the fact that someone was on his way to guard Samantha and her family.

Her mother fell silent and the look she gave Hope was one of questions. She knew her mother wanted to know what really happened to her—what she really went through and why the authorities think that she may still be in danger. But she could not let her mother share the pain she had been through. She’d keep the horrors to herself.

As they waited for the two agents to return, her mother sat on the chair beside her bed, her hands on her face. This was too much for her, Hope thought. But she couldn’t do anything. She wished Devin would come and give her even just a bit of the answers she wanted. Where had he been? How did he survive? Was Burton really the good guy? Why did he think she was still in danger?

She wanted him to come and argue with her because she desperately needed someone who knew everything that had happened.

Her thoughts were put to a halt by the sudden ringing of a phone. Her mother stirred and removed her hands from her face. Hope watched her mother walk to her bag and rummaged the contents. She took out one phone, and then another, and then another.

“You still have a lot of phones?” she asked conversationally.

Her mother sighed and shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “You have no idea,” Gina Madden said when she finally found the ringing phone. Hope watched as her mother’s face turned serious and her brows fused in a frown. “I have to get this. I’ll be right back,” she stated in a deadpan voice without a glance at Hope and before she knew it, her mother was out the door.