“How about you?” Lucy asked. “How did you end up being a spy?”
“That term is too grandiose for what I do. My mom was the real spy in the family. She worked for the CIA.”
“No way!”
“Yep. True story. She did a semester in Germany in college and met my dad there. He was in army telecommunications and stationed in Berlin. They lived in Germany for almost ten years. Here’s a piece of trivia for you. I was even born in Berlin.”
The sound of the wheels changed with a shift in the pavement, and Jordan noted the difference.
“A Berlin baby,” Lucy said. “Wow. I never would have guessed. Now I want to know everything. Did your mom join the CIA in Germany? Or before that? If you tell me, will you have to kill me?”
The oddity of the conversation wasn’t lost on him. They might as well be sitting in a coffee shop rather than trapped as hostage victims in the back of the van. Still, as long as Lucy wasn’t concentrating on her fear, he was willing to talk.
“They recruited my mom in Germany,” he said. “That’s about all I know. She was never very forthcoming about the rest of the story. I’m not even certain what she did for them while we lived there. We moved back when I was seven. So there you have it. I was a military brat who spent the first years of my life in another country. America was quite a shock.”
“I can’t even imagine. Do you speak German?”
“Some. I used to practice with my mom. She was fluent in French, Spanish and German. Dad and I mostly stuck to English.” He hadn’t thought about Germany in a long while. His time there had been invaluable. He’d learned what it was like to be a foreigner, and the experience had given him a sense of empathy that carried through to his current job. “My parents got divorced when I was a kid. My dad was ready to live in the States. My mom wasn’t.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Honestly, not at first. I was so excited to be in the United States permanently, I couldn’t think of much else for a long time. When I got older, I realized how much that must have hurt her. But living stateside was like a dream come true. The American kids on the base in Berlin cycled in and out, and sometimes I went to school with the diplomats’ kids, but we only visited the States once or twice a year. While I like being overseas, I like coming home more.”
“Is your mom still in the CIA?”
“She passed away a few years ago.” The pain was still there, but not as sharp as it had been in the beginning. “Blood clot.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“She was a tough lady. I never thought anything could kill her.” He shook his head, realizing he’d been dominating the conversation when he was supposed to be keeping Lucy’s mind off their predicament. “Anyway, that’s how I got involved with the Special Collection Service branch of the National Security Agency. It’s actually a joint venture with the CIA. I usually just say I work for the Department of Defense because most people have heard of the DOD. My mom had connections, and I had a knack for getting in and out of places without being noticed.”
He didn’t recall ever telling someone that much about his life and his work. Not even Brandt. Usually, when people asked him questions, he’d offer vague answers and change the subject. Not that he wasn’t proud of his life and his parents, but he wasn’t generally comfortable talking about himself. There was something about not being able to see Lucy that made it easier to open up to her. Then again, maybe his ease in talking about his life came from Lucy and not just the darkness. She made it easy to talk.
She shifted, and he knew she must be getting uncomfortable. His feet and hands were starting to tingle.
“Do you get to see your dad very often?” she asked.
“Not as much as I should, although I’ve been trying to be better. These past few months have made that harder.”
He hadn’t told his dad or Emma the full extent of his injuries, although he was certain his stepsister suspected he was keeping something from them. Emma was still skittish around him, and he regretted the distance. He didn’t know how to reassure her that their relationship wasn’t going to collapse at the first sign of discord. She didn’t trust his loyalty yet, and that hurt.
Lucy lifted her arms and lightly touched the side of his head. “You didn’t want anyone to know, did you? You didn’t want them to know how badly you were hurt.”
The shift in her position brought her face closer, and his lips brushed against her cheek. Everything about this was wrong. They were in grave danger. Lucy was off-limits. Yet for a split second, there was just the two of them. For a moment he let himself imagine this was a cozy booth in an exclusive restaurant. He imagined everything was all right in the world. There were no shadows in the past, no sorrow, no danger. The next instant, reality crashed in.
The vehicle slowed and Jordan tensed, jerking away. “Remember. Whatever happens. Look out for yourself.”
Everything in his life, all of his conditioning, all of his training, had led up to this point. Lucy was depending on him.
He had one chance to get this right.
* * *
Lucy sucked in a sharp breath.
The van pulled to a stop, though the engine remained running. Doors slammed. The back hatch flew open. Temporarily blinded, she felt more than saw as Jordan was yanked unceremoniously from the vehicle. He stumbled, his balance compromised by his bound hands and feet. They dragged him a few feet before dropping him to the ground.
“The girl, too?” the first man called.
“The girl, too.”
Lucy caught the barest hint of her surroundings before one of the men kicked Jordan in the stomach.
She shouted, but the man holding her covered her mouth, preventing her from protesting.
The second man grasped the back of Jordan’s neck and pressed his cheek into the neatly manicured grass. “I have your wallet. I have your address. You say anything to the police, anything at all, and I come and find you. You got that? Because if I have to come looking for you, I’m not going to be happy.”
“I got it,” Jordan replied hoarsely.
The man kicked him again. Lucy’s chest ached and her vision blurred.
Doors slammed and the sound of wheels on concrete receded into the distance.
Lucy dropped to the ground, her bound legs curled to the side, her wrists in her lap. Her hair was a wild, tangled mess, and she shook it out of her eyes. Planting his elbow in the grass, Jordan pushed himself to a seated position.
She glanced around, and a dawning sense of horror nearly overcame her. “Do you realize where they’ve left us?”
“Judging by all the grave markers, I’m guessing this is a cemetery.”
Being in a cemetery at dusk wasn’t her first choice for a Friday evening excursion. On any other day she might attempt a brave face, but after everything she’d been through this week, she was all out of brave faces.
Jordan studied their surroundings. “Do you know where we are? I’m not familiar with this part of town.”
Lush green hills dotted with oak trees undulated toward the horizon. Raised grave markers were scattered among the flat tombstones. A meandering road wove its way through the bucolic scene.
“It’s Forest Lawn cemetery,” Lucy said. “I’ve only been here a few times. For funerals. But you probably guessed that. This place is enormous.” Tilting back her head, she studied the overcast sky. “They must have driven us around for a while, because we’re only five or six miles from where we started.”
Though their abductors had treated her far more gently than they’d treated Jordan, her ankles and wrists chafed.
The faint hum of a car engine caught her attention, and her heart raced. “They’re coming back!”
EIGHT
Lucy frantically searched for a place to hide. She wasn’t going back in the van.
“They won’t c
ome back for us, and that’s not them,” Jordan replied, searching the distance. “I can tell by the engine. It’s definitely not the van they were driving.”
“How can you tell what kind of engine it is by the sound?” An ancient sedan appeared along the winding road, and her limbs turned to jelly. “You know what? Never mind—I’ll take your word for it.”
“We’ll try and get this driver’s attention, but we don’t want to scare him. Just follow my lead like you did at the house. You’re a natural at this.”
Of all the talents God might have bestowed on her, she’d hoped for something a little more righteous than lying on command. In an attempt to act naturally, she sat up straighter and smoothed her hair with her bound wrists. Jordan did the same. Nothing unusual about a couple of folks tied up on the side of the road. Nothing at all.
The car pulled to a stop beside them, and the window was cranked down in a leisurely fashion.
An elderly man in a powder blue suit leaned his gaunt face through the opening. “You folks all right?”
“Yes, sir,” Jordan answered with a wide grin. “My friend and I are part of a scavenger hunt. Do you have a knife or a pair of scissors or something to cut these ties?”
“And someone just left you here like this?” The wrinkles in the man’s forehead deepened. “Don’t seem like much of a game to me.”
“Wouldn’t be fun if it was easy.” Jordan chuckled. “The first team to discover all the clues and return to the starting point wins a hundred dollars.”
“I think I’d stay home for that amount of money.” The man appeared to consider them for a moment. “I might have a pair of wire cutters in the trunk. That should do the trick.”
Lucy and Jordan exchanged a glance. The driver’s-side door creaked open and the man swung his legs around. Bracing his hand on the seat, he pushed off into a mostly standing position since his back didn’t quite straighten. Jordan kept his goofy grin in place, and Lucy tried to appear as small and harmless as possible.
Jordan cleared his throat. “Rainy weather we’re having. Keeping everything nice and green for this time of year.”
“That it is. That it is.” The man shuffled to the back of his car and popped the trunk. “Don’t want too much rain, though. Bad for planting.”
“You ever do any farming?”
“Back in the day. My folks had a farm in Elgin. We lease the land now. Everything is big business these days.”
Lucy squirmed. Though she didn’t want to rush the man, her fingers were going numb and her ankles throbbed. She’d prefer a little less idle chitchat and a little more action.
Jordan tossed her a beseeching glance. “Looks like we’re going to get some more rain before this day is over.”
“True, true.” The trunk slammed. “We’re in for another storm tonight. Might have some flooding up north if this keeps up.”
The two might have been chatting over breakfast at the local café. If Lucy didn’t know better, she’d have fallen for Jordan’s story hook, line and sinker. He wasn’t flashy like Brandt, but he was steady. There was a calm, consistent quality about him that put everyone around him at ease. Brandt had trusted him implicitly, and now she saw why.
Whether it was giving her a handful of carrots for her guinea pig after a long day or the way he’d held her hand when she was frightened, there was a deep sense of empathy in the tiny kindnesses he performed naturally. While Brandt had favored grand, vivid gestures, Jordan was far subtler. If Brandt was a Rembrandt then Jordan was a Monet—all blurred edges and muted tones, but no less beautiful.
They were opposites, but at the core they were similar. She had no doubt that both men loved deeply and completely. They were both loyal, and both men of faith. Brandt had mentioned as much when they were assigned together.
After what seemed like an eternity, the older man circled around the car carrying a folded Buck knife. He glanced at them and hesitated.
“I’m Jordan and this is Lucy, by the way.” Jordan introduced the two of them. “She’s from Omaha, but I’m a transplant.”
The personal details seemed to put the elderly gentleman more at ease, and her admiration for Jordan grew. They didn’t have a lot of other options. If their Good Samaritan balked at setting them free, they risked being here after dark, and Lucy didn’t relish the prospect.
No other cars had passed since they’d been there, and the sun was dipping lower on the horizon. The gathering storm clouds had turned the sky unnaturally dark. Lucy shivered.
“My name is Hank.” The man shuffled closer. “Whereabouts do you hail from originally if you’re a transplant?”
“Maryland,” Jordan said. “Most recently from Frederick.”
“What brings you to these parts?”
“Work.”
“What kind of work?”
“Government work.”
Hank carefully unfolded the knife. “Nice to see young people playing games that take them outside. Everyone is always staring at their phones these days. Still, I’m not sure if a cemetery is the most respectable place for this sort of thing. Not sure at all.”
Lucy drew her arms together to warm them. Chill moisture from the damp grass had seeped through her layers of clothing. She was miserably cold and bruised from their ordeal.
“Point taken,” Jordan readily agreed. “We’re really sorry to disturb your evening. You don’t happen to have a cell phone, do you?”
“I do have a cell phone,” Hank replied. “The grandkids bought me one for my last birthday.”
Lucy nearly wept with relief. She was tired and sore and frightened. The sooner someone from Jordan’s team came to rescue them, the better.
Jordan grinned. “You think my girlfriend and I could make a call? We need to figure out our next clue. For the scavenger hunt,” he added hastily.
“I’d let you make a call, all right. But it’s at home.”
Lucy’s hand shook as she pressed her fingers against her lips and took a few deep, calming breaths. There was no need to be upset. The lack of a phone was only a minor setback. They were safe, for the moment. They weren’t in the back of the van. People were looking for them. There was no need to panic.
Hank scuffled toward Jordan. “Don’t know why anyone would need to make a call when they’re away from home. What’s the point of leaving the house if folks can still find you?” He wrestled open the folded blade. “Why don’t I get you taken care of first, young man, and then you can help the little lady.”
“Sure thing.” Jordan shot her a sympathetic glance. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll be finished.”
Hank sawed through the zip ties binding Jordan’s wrists for what seemed like an eternity. The moment he was free, Jordan took the knife and released his feet, then turned toward Lucy. He easily sliced through the thick plastic, and she shook out her hands to stop the tingling.
“You folks better hurry up with whatever you’re doing,” Hank declared. “I was just visiting my wife. She’s over in the tranquil gardens. There’s a big tree and a park bench where I can sit in the shade and have a chat with her. But the cemetery closes at dusk.”
Jordan folded the knife and extended his hand. “We won’t keep you. No one wants to be trapped in a cemetery after dark.”
Lucy snorted. Least of all her. This place was huge, and she had no idea how far they were from the exit. A neighborhood abutted one side of the Forest Lawn, but as far as she knew, the rest of the area surrounding the cemetery was rural.
“No worries. No worries.” Hank tucked the knife into the pocket of his suit.
Lucy sat up straighter. The blood was slowly returning to her legs, and she massaged her calves. Stinging pricks shot up and down her shins, and she didn’t trust herself to stand just yet.
Hank squinted. “Is there anything else you two need?”
“Nothing
at all.” Jordan stood and reached for Lucy. “You’ve been really helpful.”
She clasped his hand and lurched upright. He tucked her against his side to keep her steady.
“You’re most welcome,” Hank said. “I hope you two have fun on this scavenger hunt of yours.”
“I’m sure we will.”
The elderly man opened the driver’s door. “Seems odd, leaving you all alone in here without a car or anything.”
“Don’t worry. Our friends will be here soon. We’ll be out of here by dusk.”
“Alrighty, then.”
As he pulled away, Hank stuck his arm out the window in a friendly wave.
“What a sweet man,” Lucy said. “I hate to deceive him.”
“It’s better this way,” Jordan said, wearily resigned. “There’s really nothing he can do for us without a cell phone, and I don’t want to put him in any danger.”
Her teeth chattered and she rubbed her upper arms. “What now?”
“We follow the signs to the exit. Let’s avoid any local shortcuts. We need to find people. We don’t want to avoid them. Worse comes to worst, we can trigger the security alarm—”
The faint sounds of a ringtone interrupted his words.
Lucy cocked her head. “Did you hear that?”
Jordan’s eyes widened. “That’s my phone.”
Energized by the possibility of finding his cell phone, frantically they traced the sound to a section of grass by the side of the road. They discovered Jordan’s cell phone, undamaged, near a flat grave marker.
Her own phone hadn’t been as fortunate. Lucy sighed. It must have ricocheted off the stone, because the face was smashed.
Jordan glanced at the number and blanched. “I need to take this real quick.”
Stolen Secrets Page 8
