#6--The Missing Father--O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

  “Ah, thanks, Luke,” she said, then shrugged and smiled. “I take it Jess talked to you, letting you know it was a dead end, that Wisconsin lead you had. Sorry about that. I would have told you myself, but I had to hop a plane here for a meeting and thought it seemed urgent.”

  Bullshit!

  He knew by the way she said it. Her hazel eyes, which he couldn’t read at times, seemed so noncommittal, and there was something there now that didn’t sit right with him. Being straight with the team, with him, was something he expected from her, but whatever this was wasn’t straight at all.

  “Yeah, about that,” he said. “You said you’d do me this favor, checking into someone for me and keeping it on the q.t., but then you went running to Jess with that dead-end nonsense, which we both know is bullshit. When I said this was delicate, sensitive—”

  “You mean personal?” she said, cutting him off. She had transformed from friendly and easygoing to unsmiling, in his face. She glanced over her shoulder to where Rex and Matthew were going through their guns and ammo. Luke could hear Jess on the phone, talking, he knew, to the colonel. It would be showtime soon, and he could see something about this still wasn’t sitting right with him.

  “So what’s your deal, Sienna?” Luke said. “We have each other’s backs, so I can’t figure out why you went to Jess and told him it was a simple dead end when you were all over that lead, wanting to help me when I was searching the database. You said a flag came up on the name I was searching in Wisconsin. You, Sienna, were the one who came to me and asked to check it out for me, so don’t give me this crap about it being personal and then blow me off. Everyone here uses the resources we have for personal things, including you, and I made no secret about it.

  “I know you, Sienna. You seem to forget I know how good you are, but I also know when you’re hiding something, up to something. There’s no such thing as a dead end with you. There was something. Seems to me you’re hiding it, so I have to ask what it is. You know something. Or is this you trying to jam me up? Who else did you go to?”

  He knew he sounded paranoid, but he kept his voice low, wondering what game she was playing.

  She slowly crossed her arms, leveling him with a gaze that told him she wasn’t taking any shit, appearing very much the image of a woman who was all business. “All right, the name Raymond O’Connell raised a red flag in Wisconsin, a sealed file that even I couldn’t get into. I started looking around, and as I’m sure you’ve already figured out, the Raymond O’Connell you’re looking for didn’t exist before 1983. Then he suddenly did. He married your mom, Iris O’Connell, and his name is on your birth certificates. He worked for the railroad, seemed to have the perfect, normal all-American life, and then he was gone one day. You also know that no police report or missing persons report was filed. Let me ask you this: You find anything on him from that November day he walked away?”

  He just stared at her, sensing that cocky side of her, wondering how she knew everything he did. Evidently, she’d figured out the same things he had.

  She looked over her shoulder again and stepped closer to him. “You ever ask yourself, Luke, how a man can disappear into thin air, without a trace?”

  “You mean he was a spook. Is that what you’re implying?” he said. He wondered if anyone was listening.

  She rested her hand on his arm, a touch that meant nothing to him. She was pretty, not hot, and as single as all of them, considering every one of them had the same screwed-up life that left them far from stable or dependable, without healthy relationships and families.

  “Or dead,” she said. “That’s the more likely scenario that I’m talking about.”

  “But that wouldn’t explain the red flag you said popped up on his name—or the fact that you did blow me off by going to Jess. That has me wondering what you really found out.”

  “Okay, let’s saddle up,” Jess announced. “Luke, you, me, and Rex are going to pick up the target, Stefan Schwartz, at the Harris Group. Sienna, you’re with Matthew and Shaun at his apartment. The orders are to take his place apart, find everything he has on the company, every trade secret, everything confidential, anything that belongs to the corporation. I want no mistakes. He doesn’t know we’re coming, so let’s get in and get out. Anything you find at his place, tag it, bag it, and pack it up. It goes back to Washington so they can figure out what they’re going to do.”

  The group started to head off. Just as Sienna went to step away, his hand landed on her arm.

  “Whoa, we’re not done,” he said.

  Her gaze went right to his hand. She was slender, fit, and he could feel how tense she was. He didn’t pull away, but she did. “We are,” she said, then took a step in her pumps before turning back to him. “Oh, and no, I wasn’t trying to jam you up. Just FYI, the Wisconsin Raymond O’Connell isn’t who you’re looking for. The flag on the file was from the Feds. The man’s in witness protection. They just happened to pick your dad’s name.”

  He let his hand fall away, and Sienna walked off, and Luke didn’t miss the fact that Jess was watching all of it.

  Chapter Three

  “I told you I’m innocent! What do you want from me? Why are you doing this? Where are you taking me? Seriously, I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t do anything wrong. Who are you guys?”

  Stefan Schwartz, in his fifties, with graying hair, had been in a board meeting when they walked in with security from the Harris Group. Rex had cuffed him in front of the six other men and women around the table. One had demanded to know what was going on, but they’d been in and out in less than six minutes.

  Stefan was now on the floor in the back of the van, cuffed, a hood over his head. There was something about the scene, the fact that they seemed to be serving as corporate security way too much as of late, that wasn’t sitting right with Luke.

  “Hey, hey! Shut up back there or I’ll tape your mouth shut,” Jess called out from the passenger seat.

  Luke was behind the wheel, and Rex was in back with the guy. He heard something that sounded like duct tape ripping, and he didn’t have to look in the rear-view mirror to know that Rex had taped Stefan’s mouth. All they could hear was muffled yelling now as they made their way to the airport, mission done. The guy would be on the transport back to Washington that night, and they’d be on a commercial flight the next morning.

  Then there was Sienna, whom he wanted to sit down with to find out what was really going on.

  “Okay, just heard from Shaun, Matthew, and Sienna,” Jess said. “They have everything, and they’re already back at the hotel. Said something about a key, encrypted files. Whatever—it’s above my paygrade and yours. Can’t wait to get back and have a drink. We’re done.”

  He pulled into the airport, up to the military plane that had been waiting. Rex had Stefan out of the back, and he was handed over to military personnel. They were now done. This part of the mission was finished.

  “Let’s get out of here, get back to the hotel, have a few beers,” Rex said as he climbed back into the van.

  Luke slid behind the wheel again and took in the military plane, seeing Stefan now shackled as he was led onto it, and for a minute, he sympathized, because he knew the man would never have his day in court. Whatever he’d done or whoever he’d pissed off, he’d stepped on the wrong toes.

  They arrived back at the hotel and parked underground, and Luke split off from Rex and Jess as they stepped into the lobby. He took in the glass, the brass, the sofas and chairs, and the front desk as he walked over to the open bar. The place had the same high-end feel as the rest of the hotel. Shaun, Matthew, and Sienna were already sitting there, still in suits, nursing beers.

  Shaun was watching everyone, his back to the wall, whereas Matthew seemed almost too cozy with Sienna.

  “Hey, there, you made it. First round’s on me,” Sienna said. She ordered one of the foreign beers for Luke and slid it over to him. “Where’re Jess and Rex?”

  He leaned against the bar, t
aking her in, lifting the bottle and gesturing to the bartender in thanks. “They’ll be right down,” he said.

  Jess had to report in, and Rex was likely seeing that their guns were packed down and ready to go, stowed nowhere a maid could see if one walked in.

  “So you’re heading back to Livingston after we get back to base?” Matthew asked, and Sienna too was watching him as she lifted her gin and soda with a twist of lime. It was the only drink he ever saw her with.

  “Yes, after we finish up,” he said. “Seems Owen is in a bit of a pickle. Ryan mentioned something about girl trouble. I kind of want to check in and find out what’s what with Karen and her hubby, Jack, too. Suzanne seems happy enough, but she got royally screwed over by that asshole Toby, as Marcus put it. Then there’s my mom. Didn’t get much of a chance to really check in with her.”

  Shaun lifted his Swiss beer and took a swallow. “Well, at least you have family to go back to.”

  “Ah, come on, what am I, chopped liver? You know you love spending time with me,” Matthew said, moving to put his arm around Shaun, who stepped back, giving him a look as if he should know better.

  “You’re lucky, Luke, having a family like you do,” Sienna said without looking his way.

  Luke looked around the bar, seeing corporate types in suits, women in heels, drinking wine and the kinds of expensive drinks that banker types drank. He took in Jess and Rex coming their way and could already hear Shaun ordering their beers.

  There was something about Sienna right now. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was completely off, and it bothered him. For the first time, he feared he could be jammed up for something he wouldn’t see coming. He didn’t want her anywhere near his family or discussing them.

  “I am,” he said simply, then took in a tall leggy woman at the end of the bar. Her hair was light brown, her face slender, and her dress black. She was holding a glass of white, sitting alone. He couldn’t help himself. “You know what?” he said, turning to Jess and Rex, who he knew had also spotted the looker. “I’m going to check out six o’clock down there. Wish me luck.”

  He picked up his beer and gestured to the bartender. “Bring the woman down there another glass of whatever she’s drinking, and bring me another one of these,” he said, then made his way down the bar.

  Her hazel eyes took him in.

  “Well, pardon me, ma’am. Are you with someone?” he said.

  The bartender slipped her another glass of white wine, and a second beer for him followed.

  “I didn’t order this,” she said, and her accent, he thought, was French.

  The bartender said, “It’s from the gentleman.”

  “Luke O’Connell,” he said as the bartender stepped away. “Yes, a little forward on my part, but I spotted you down here alone. You can either tell me to get lost and toss the drink in my face, or you can say thank you and we can share a drink and conversation.”

  She lifted a brow but didn’t smile as she finished off her glass of wine and reached for the other one, sliding it toward herself. She lifted it and took a sip. Something about her seemed flawless. Her dress was classy, with a hint of perfect cleavage, and her fingers were slender and long and ringless.

  “Well, thank you,” she said, “but I’m not about to waste a perfectly good glass of wine by tossing it in your face. So, Luke. By the accent, I take it you’re American.” She was confident, and he thought he could listen to the sound of her voice all night.

  “Yeah, but I seem to be at a disadvantage here. I’ve already told you my name, but you’ve withheld yours. How about we start with introductions?” He held out his hand as he leaned on the bar. “Luke O’Connell, and your name is?”

  She slid around on her stool and took him in, holding out her hand. “Rosemary. Nice to meet you. So what brings you to Geneva, Mr. O’Connell?”

  “Luke,” he said, nearly cutting her off. He wasn’t sure what to make of her eyes, the light, the hint of amusement. “Business brings me here.” He held her hand, making an exaggerated motion of looking at her ring finger. “I see no ring, so I take it there’s no angry mister who’s going to show up here and start a bar brawl or shove a fist in my face.”

  She said nothing for a second. “No, no one.” She didn’t pull her gaze from him. “And you, Luke, you have a wife hidden at home, a posse of kids, maybe…?”

  He just laughed. “No, seems we’re the perfect match here, both single in a bar, having a drink. So tell me, Miss Rosemary, are you visiting this beautiful part of the world or do you live here?”

  This time, she slid her hand away as she leaned on the bar top, so close that he got an eyeful of her cleavage. “Like you, Luke, I too am visiting.”

  Chapter Four

  Luke ran his hand over his forehead and messy hair as he turned his head into the pillow, taking in the woman beside him in bed. He pulled in a breath, smelling the sweat from another restless night. Sleeping peacefully was just something he didn’t do anymore.

  He took in his clothes, tossed on the chair by the bed. Light spilled through the window, and he heard a ding from his phone and spotted it in the pocket of his jacket. He slid out of bed and reached for it, then saw the text from Jess.

  You still with the babe from the bar? We’re leaving. Get your ass back here.

  He sent back a quick text, Be there in a few, and then slipped his phone back in his jacket, feeling his holstered gun tucked underneath. He heard a rustle from the bed.

  She was awake, holding the sheet over her breasts, and he took in the perfection of her face. She had a softness to her. How many drinks had they had? Six or seven, he thought.

  “You have to go?” she said. There it was again, something he’d picked up on the night before.

  “No French accent, I see,” he replied. “So why fake it? What is this, some game?”

  It was at drink four when she’d really loosened up and her accent had slipped. He’d said nothing about it then, though of course he’d noticed it. He stepped into his underwear and dress pants, and she pulled her knees up to her chest under the sheets.

  He could still picture her every curve, remembering the feel of her soft skin and how he’d run his hands over her. Their kiss had been off the charts, hot and steamy. There had been no hesitation as she slipped her hand in his and took him to her room, which had a king bed and a modest view. Something about her seemed steeped in mystery, in some secret—but then, so was he.

  She ran her hand over the back of her neck and looked down and away for a second. Yeah, he’d busted her. He could always tell when someone needed a minute to get on top of a lie.

  She gave him everything, taking in his every motion as he pulled on his shirt and re-holstered his gun. She tilted her head. “It’s just something I could do, you know, the accent. I’ve always been good at it. Last night, for me, I felt like playing it up, though I didn’t plan on it when you walked over. But since here we are, the morning after, there was nothing honest about you, either. A guy in a bar who makes his way over to a girl with a drink and then keeps buying them for her is only after one thing: sex, nothing more. What difference did it make about the accent? Did you plan on seeing me again? It was just a role I played, and you played one, as well. As you said, Luke, if that’s your real name, you’re from out of the country, and so am I. We’re really just two ships passing in the night, a night of great sex and…” She pulled in a breath. “Anyway, this isn’t about me or you. We had some fun, and now you’re two steps from the door, so we’ll never see each other again.”

  “I’ll have you know my name is Luke,” he said. “But let me guess: Yours isn’t Rosemary.”

  She didn’t smile. Her hazel eyes told him she wasn’t ready to apologize for anything. “Well, actually, Rosemary is my real name. So, Luke, you’re from…” She let it hang.

  Here it was, where they got into the really personal territory that he wasn’t about to share. Despite the sex, they didn’t know anything about each other �
�From Montana. And you, Rosemary, where are you from? From the accent, I’d say Midwest US?”

  “Close, or thereabouts. Indiana. So what’s with the guns? You’re a cop, a criminal, or something else?”

  He pulled on his suit jacket, shoved his feet into his shoes, and pulled out his phone. “Not a criminal. I work for the US government. You, what’s your number?”

  He took in her surprise as he flicked his gaze over to her, phone in hand. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t do this, didn’t ask for women’s numbers, especially not a woman from a one-night stand in another country. But there was something about her, something far from needy and far from typical, something he couldn’t shake.

  “Why? This was sex, nothing else, no strings, and now you want my number?” She made a rude noise but didn’t move to get out of bed, holding the sheet up as if making sure she stayed covered. It was flickering in her eyes, panic or something else, and she stiffened as he watched her. If anything, the way she was acting was almost humorous.

  “As you said, there’s something about you, Rosemary, once you drop the pretense of being French. Now we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty, and we’re both Americans, so just maybe I’ll call.”

  He knew he sounded arrogant, and the frown she gave him should have told him he was wasting his time, but instead, what did she do but give him her number? He typed it into his phone and moved around the bed to her. She was brooding, sexy, but he knew nothing about her yet.

  “So, Rosemary, what brings you to Geneva, business or pleasure?”

  “Luke, seriously, I just gave you my number, but it sounds to me as if you’re wanting something more that I’m not looking for. I was willing, remember…?”

  He waited, not pulling his gaze, and finally she sighed. Even that sound made him feel things he hadn’t expected. Women didn’t do this to him, yet this pretty face had gotten under his skin.