by Chad Zunker
Natalie nodded. “I’m sure.”
“Okay. You were right. They weren’t FBI. The men you talked to last night were CIA.”
Natalie tilted her head. “Why would they claim to be FBI?”
Michelle shrugged. “No idea. It’s bizarre, because I do know that Director Stone personally gave them the authority to misrepresent themselves to you as the FBI.”
Natalie sat back in the bench. “Does Sam know any of this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, thanks, Michelle. I appreciate it.”
“Sure. Good luck.”
Natalie watched as Michelle walked away. Her head was spinning with new questions. So much of this didn’t make sense, and yet Sam was very insistent that they just put it all behind them and move on with their lives. As a matter of fact, he’d talked more with her about the wedding last night than he had the entire week after they’d gotten engaged. Almost like he was trying to distract her from something else. But what? Did Sam know something that she didn’t? Was he keeping it from her? And if so, why? Sam knew he could trust her with anything—she already knew all the dark secrets of his past. There was nothing he could say or do that would make her love him any less or not want to be with him. In that moment, Natalie decided she would try her best to just let it go. If Sam wanted to tell her something, he would tell her when he was good and ready. She just needed to move forward and get on with her life.
There was only one thing holding her back.
Natalie sucked at letting things go.
SEVENTY-ONE
Sam stood near the Washington Monument.
It was a gray DC morning. Threats of rain, although nothing was falling yet.
He held his cell phone to his ear and was just finishing up a call with his boss, David Benoltz, who was ecstatic to hear he was safe. He’d already explained in detail to David the full story behind what had unfolded over the past two days—at least the intricate mirage that he was now portraying to those in the know. He was lying to everyone important to him. Why? He still hadn’t quite figured that out. He hadn’t slept a wink last night. He’d just paced Natalie’s apartment, back and forth all night long, struggling with emotions. A half dozen times he’d almost shaken Natalie awake, wanting to tell her the whole truth, to reveal everything, but each time he’d stopped himself short. Sam knew it had very little to do with him being recruited by this deep-cover CIA group for a special assignment. He couldn’t care less about whatever they thought he could somehow do to help them—especially after the hell they’d put him through the past two days.
It was about his father. That was the long and short of it.
There was a dull pain there. He really felt nothing at all. None of the raw and untempered emotions that he’d gone through with his mother. He was actually much angrier when he thought his real father was Rich Hebbard. Now that he knew it was actually Marcus Pelini, there was just a hollow hole inside his chest—especially with what his father had put him through, not once but now twice. Marcus Pelini had chosen his own son as a pawn, first with Lucas and Lisa McCallister last fall, and now a second time with his trip to Mexico City. What kind of man would do that? What kind of father would choose to put his own son in so much danger? Sam couldn’t comprehend any of it. Nor could he comprehend how the gray-bearded man wanted Sam to sign up voluntarily for a third round.
Yet Sam was somehow drawn to him, like a dumb moth to a flame.
Inside every man is a boy who wants to know his father.
Even if that father is his adversary.
“What do you need from me, Sam?” David asked on the phone, stirring Sam away from his own thoughts.
“I might need some time off, if that’s okay. Just to get my feet beneath me again.”
“You got it. Take whatever time you need.”
“Thanks, David. I’ll call you soon.”
Sam hung up, began to walk the sidewalks. He circled around the National World War II Memorial, headed toward the Reflecting Pool. It began to sprinkle. He watched the raindrops ripple in the water. The drops quickly became heavier. A few umbrellas sprang up. Most people out and about began to scatter for shelter. Sam just continued to walk, hands in pockets, farther up the sidewalk, the raindrops soaking him.
He found him waiting on a bench. Black trench coat with matching fedora.
Sam took one last deep breath, walked over, sat next to Marcus Pelini.
They sat in silence for a few seconds.
Then Sam turned, said, “I’m in.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Writing this book has been an incredible journey. I’m so grateful to so many who supported and helped me take this important next step in my writing career. Please forgive me if I miss you below.
Readers, your enthusiasm for Sam Callahan drives this whole thing forward. Thank you for giving Sam a shot, for writing so many great reviews, sending me encouraging notes, and telling your family and friends. Let’s keep the momentum rolling!
Thomas & Mercer, my wonderful publishing family, thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to continue to tell Sam Callahan stories. I’ve loved every minute of working with each member of this unbelievable team. What a blessing!
Liz Pearsons, you’re an incredible editor who cares for me so well, in spite of the way I constantly inundate you with random e-mails. Thank you so much for your patience as you help me grow and learn as an author. You’ve made this last year an amazing experience for me, and I’m forever grateful. Go, Pack, Go!
Sarah Shaw, thank you for hand-holding a newbie like me through the publishing process with its many quirks and nuances. You do it with such grace and joy, and you never make me feel stupid, which I value the most!
Bryon Quertermous, you were like a master wizard in the way you helped me dig deeper into the story, smooth out plotlines, and develop characters. The book is so much better because it was placed in your craftsman hands. Thank you!
David Hale Smith, my agent, thank you for guiding me through each step of this journey so far, with wise thoughts about my writing choices, next steps, and words of encouragement at just the right time. I’m in such good hands because you’re behind the steering wheel!
To my wonderfully supportive community of friends and family who have been an unbelievable source of encouragement to me: although there are way too many to individually name here, so many of you kept excitedly asking me, “When is the sequel coming out?” The enthusiastic twinkle in your eyes drove me to put the words down on the page.
To Nancy, my mother, whom I know prays over my writing every single day, and to Doug and Nancy, my in-laws, who steadily champion me forward. To every member of my family who always offers me a consistent voice of support, I’m so grateful to each of you.
To my girls, Anna, Madison, and Lexi, who are proud to have a daddy who writes books and who do their very best to give me the time and space to accomplish such a feat. You girls make me just as proud of you!
To Katie, my wife and my rock, the one who keeps our family ship safely in the waters, who helps keep my feet on steady ground, and who has personally sacrificed so much of herself these past couple of years so that I can fully chase this dream. I couldn’t do any of this without you and wouldn’t even want to try. Thank you!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2015 Amy Melsa
Chad Zunker studied journalism at the University of Texas, where he was also on the football team. He’s worked for some of the most powerful law firms in the country and has invented baby products that are now sold all over the world. He is the author of The Tracker, the first Sam Callahan novel; lives in Austin with his wife, Katie, and their three daughters; and is hard at work on the next novel in the Sam Callahan series. For more on the author and his writing, visit www.chadzunker.com.
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