Page 46 of Vanishing Legacy
“I was asked to give you this.” The man held a white business card between his first two fingers and offered it to Cash.
Cash took the card, and the man walked away without another word.
He turned the card over and saw a single word, printed in bold, black letters.
SPAGHETTI.
“Great, now what?” Alana asked.
Cash pocketed the card with the secret phrase before Alana could read it. He forced a thin smile. “Looks like someone wants to see us.”
TWELVE
Despite the day’s events roiling and clashing in a swirling storm of thoughts, Alana always came back to a single word.
Spaghetti.
She tried to shake it loose. Tried to focus on the fact they may have found Sonia’s car. Maybe her body. But it was like trying to ignore a low battery on a smoke detector in the middle of the night.
And then there was the Suit. The one who’d approached Cash at the marina. Definitely government. The wrinkled suit, bleary eyes, and seven-dollar haircut all screamed FBI to Alana. The way Cash had tucked the card away so fast set alarm bells ringing in her mind. Clearly it was something he hadn’t wanted her to see.
But she had seen it.
She hadn’t asked about it. If Cash wanted her to know, he’d have told her. Just because they’d grown comfortable with each other didn’t mean he owed her an explanation for everything.
So they drove from Tybee Island to the south side of Savannah in silence. The only sound was the rumble of the engine and the rush of wind against the windows. Cash spoke only once, to point out the hospital where he worked.
He drove through the darkened streets of an area of Savannah she hadn’t visited before. Storefront lights cast a neon glow across the pavement. He turned a corner and pulled into a gravel parking lot. They parked in front of a weather-beaten building with peeling white paint against a dull gray background. A faded sign above the entrance, Atlas Gym, looked as though it’d seen better days.
Cash cut the engine.
“This is where we’re meeting whoever it is that gave you that card? At a gym?”
“Yup.” His bright smile lit the darkened parking lot.
Helpful. If his smile weren’t so bone-rattlingly adorable, she’d be annoyed.
He hopped out of the truck and slammed the door with a crunch. “C’mon.”
Alana looked around as they entered the gym. The familiar sounds of punching bags and the smell of sweat hit her all at once. This was no sleek, upscale fitness center.
Nope. This place was designed for fighters. For those who came to sweat and bleed. The warriors who trained and honed their skills in the brutal art of combat.
It reminded Alana of her own days when the sound of bone hitting bone and the taste of coppery blood in her mouth were familiar companions.
Alana halted Cash’s stride with a hand on his chest. “Hold up a minute. Are we here because of what I told you about my MMA days?”
“You give me too much credit.” Cash chuckled and shook his head. “No, I used to box in the Navy. A buddy of mine owns this place. I come here from time to time, that’s all. But I’m starting to think you and I have more in common than I first thought.” His grin could melt the paint off the walls.
A funny twinge in the tips of her ears told her they were ablaze again. Great. “Let’s hope we don’t have to use any of those skills tonight.” She eyed the two boxing rings in the center of the gym.
“I dunno. I thought we could go for a round or two while we wait.” He gestured to a wall of gloves and headgear.
“I’m not really dressed for it.” She gestured to her pants and boots.
“Is that a hint of fear I hear in your voice?”
Alana raised an eyebrow and surveyed the boxing ring. It’d been years since she’d been in one, but she trusted that muscle memory would kick in no matter how she was dressed. “You’re on.”