Ablaze (Shenandoah Shadows Novella Book 3) by Melissa F. Miller

Author:Melissa F. Miller [Miller, Melissa F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Brown Street Books
Published: 2021-03-14T16:00:00+00:00

Olivia dreamed of a bustling market. She’d never been to Abuja, so her dream market was Mexico-inspired. In the market, Carla Ricci whispered to a man. Olivia strained to see him, but his face was in the shadows.

She slunk through the market, winding between the stalls and dodging children running in loud, laughing packs. There!

But, no, he slipped behind a tall, rolled-up rug. Her dream mind itched with frustration. Just turn around. A vendor called to him and he rotated forty-five degrees. Yes, just keep turning. Keep turning—

She started awake, gasping.

Trent looked down at her with concern in his soft hazel eyes. “You okay?”

She got her breathing under control and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Yeah. Just had a weird dream.” She blinked. “What time is it?”

He pulled her toward him, and she rested her cheek on his bare chest. “It’s one-thirty in the afternoon. You were out cold.”

“Someone wore me out.”

“That someone isn’t sorry at all.” He stroked her hair.

She laughed. “We should get outside, go for a hike, and then have a late lunch. It’s Saturday, right?”

“All day long.”

“Chelsea has help in the store on weekends. She’ll probably come up pretty soon. I can’t imagine she’d want to make the drive back down the mountain in the dark.”

“A hike, and lunch. Hmm. Okay, we can explore the mountain. But I reserve the right to continue my exploration of Olivia Santos when we get back.”

She propped herself up on her elbows. “That can be arranged.”

“Good. There are untold treasures yet to be discovered. I can feel it.”

She rolled her eyes at his goofiness then froze. Untold treasures. The man in the dream market.

She threw off the covers and leapt from bed.

“What’s going on?”

“I know who set up Carla. I think I do, at least.”

“Who? How?”

She shoved her legs into her jeans and fumbled with the button fly. “There was a guy, another NOC, who was home on leave right before I left for my assignment. My supervisor set up a lunch with him so I could talk to someone who knew the job, lived the life.”

“Okay. This was what, three years ago?”

“Yeah, almost four. Anyway, this guy, he’d been in West Africa forever, like a decade. His cover was a treasure hunter. He said the African continent was awash in ‘untold treasures.’ I remember.”

Trent was shaking his head. “I’m confused. A treasure-hunting NOC isn’t an antiquities dealer.”

She laced up her shoes. “No, he’s not. But I heard later, through the grapevine, that he wanted to slow down. Not quit, just do less traveling around. He wanted to be stationary. They stationed him in Nigeria.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m positive, but he’s not there anymore. When I got approval to come back to the States to see my grandmother, there was some talk about me visiting with the Western Hemisphere desk at Langley. It didn’t pan out because the directorate was very busy getting the new MENA director settled in.”

“There’s a new director of Middle Eastern and North African intelligence? That’s a plum position.

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