Exposed in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  Ben collapsed against the FBI agent restraining him. Danny’s head fell forward, and a muffled cry escaped his lips as he tried to bury his face into his shoulder.

  Fog continued to spew from the machines, getting heavier. Stage lights of multiple colors glowed in the mist and highlighted the performers as they spun, dropped, and rolled themselves around the billowing silk.

  “Aren’t they amazing?” I asked, nudging Jenna’s shoulder playfully. “You know, I’ve heard that silk artists have the funniest names for some of their moves, too. Like ‘crunchy taco’ and ‘mama’s heart attack.’ Aren’t those funny?”

  “Mom, why aren’t you saying anything?” Ben cried. “I don’t want to die like this.”

  “Shut up, Ben,” Jenna hissed. “How did you know?”

  I circled around and faced her.

  “How did I know what?” I let my lips spread into a knowing grin.

  “You bitch!” she spat, and jerked against the agent restraining her.

  I tsked. “Sticks and stones, Jenna.”

  She said nothing.

  “What?” Ben asked. “What’s going on, Mom? Why aren’t we dying?”

  “Don’t you get it, you idiot?” Jenna said, losing patience. “That fog is already swarming around the crowd, and no one has collapsed. They switched out the machines.”

  I smiled. “You are the smart one in this group, I guess.”

  Jenna was mostly right. We couldn’t have swapped out the fog machines for new ones, since the FBI wasn’t in the habit of carrying around extra fog machines. But we did swap out the liquid that went into them. The performers were happy to hand over the liquid that was to be used—it had not yet been added to the machines—and with Fritz’s help, we verified that it definitely had the distinct smell of licorice. Fritz had assured everyone that it was safe to smell it in its liquid form—it would only become a deadly airborne agent after it reacted with the dry ice.

  And after the hazmat team confiscated the liquid, one of the performers announced that she actually had a bottle of fog juice in her car from another performance. That was when I had the brilliant idea to put the fear of death in Jenna, Ben, and Danny. Literally speaking. It had worked out about how I had planned. I was now positive of their active role in the attempt to carry out a mass killing.

  I nodded to the agents. “I think we’re done here.”

  Mike and I watched as the agents escorted Jenna, Ben, and Danny away. Then Mike turned to me.

  “By the look on your face, I’m guessing you don’t think this is over any more than I do,” he said.

  “I think we stopped this particular attack. But someone else was behind this. Those three fools were not the masterminds.”

  “I agree. Question is: has another attack been planned, maybe for the Derby tomorrow?”

  I looked at him. “God, I hope not. But we should be ready for anything. I know Kensington Race Track has been planning security for months.” I tilted my head side to side. “And even if there was something in the works for tomorrow, now that we’ve captured the three stooges, who would carry it out?”

  Even as I tried to talk myself into believing that the Derby would be safe, there was something nagging at me: motive.

  “If this is all centered around whether the governor will sign that bill or not…” I said.

  Mike nodded. “Seems pretty extreme to be all about a single bill.”

  “Exactly. They wanted to send a message. And I’m still not even clear what that message would have been, except to strike hard against the wealthy and powerful bluebloods of Kentucky. But…” I shook my head and sighed. “… I don’t know. People have killed over less.”

  But that wasn’t even the most confusing part. We understood that Jenna, Ben, and Danny had wanted to advance a political cause. But if that was all there was to it, why had the mastermind behind these attacks taken such great measures to point us toward Declan? Just because of his net worth?

  “O’Roark has lost a lot of money in all this,” Mike said, as if he was reading my mind.

  “I haven’t heard him complain.”

  He seemed to think about that. Declan was worth billions of dollars, and I knew that tended to eat at people who worked their asses off to make ends meet. People like Mike.

  Then Mike stepped forward and punched me lightly in the shoulder. “Well, good work tonight,” he said. “How you figured out they would use the fog machines like that…” He gave his head a little shake. “Good work,” he repeated.

  “Thank you,” I said simply.

  “And now, you are officially off duty, agent,” Mike said. “I order you to get some rest. We do not require your services tomorrow for the Derby.”

  “What? Why not? I thought—”

  “We’ve got this handled. The Joint Terrorism Task Force will be there. Lexington Police will have nearly the entire department on duty. Kentucky State Police will be well represented. And most importantly, Carlos and I will be there. I can provide you with an earpiece if it will make you feel better, but we don’t need you. Besides, the director has requested your presence on Millionaires Row for the day.”

  I shrank slightly. “He’s coming?”

  Mike nodded, and I was sure he’d noticed my reaction. “And on that note, I think I’ll go find Carlos and make sure there’ve been no other security breaches. But before I go…” He looked me in the eye. “I’m curious. What is so important that you were willing to take on this case after not working in over a year? What do you hope to learn from the director?”

  “I want closure. I don’t even care what form it comes in.” I turned to him and fisted my left hand over my heart. “I’ve hung on to so much pain and so many questions. The director knows more than he’s told anyone about that night.”

  “I hope you get the closure you need.”

  I glanced down at my dress and back up at him. “Teddy loved you, you know.”

  “Yeah, but you were the love of his life.”

  I smiled. “And he was mine.”

  “He would want you to find happiness again.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Well, now is as good a time as any to start.” Mike nodded to something over my shoulder, and I turned to see Declan approaching.

  “There you are,” Declan said. He stepped so close that his chest rubbed against my back.

  I looked at Mike. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll see.” I leaned into Declan, and he wrapped his arms around me.

  “Well,” Mike said. “I’m off to find Carlos. Once again, great work tonight, agent.”

  When Mike was gone, Declan turned me to face him. “What have I missed?”

  I looked up at him and studied the hopeful look in his eyes. “Apparently, I’m officially off duty and have been ordered to get some rest before the big day tomorrow.”

  He leaned in and smiled against my lips. “Well, we don’t want to go against orders.”

  Chapter 35

  The party had continued on without the slightest interruption. The arrests had been so swift and efficient that the party guests had no idea that anything out of the ordinary had transpired.

  When we entered the house, Declan first took me to the kitchen and forced me to eat a little something he’d had brought in from the caterer. Over canapés and miniature Kentucky hot brown quiches, I explained to him everything that had happened.

  “I’m relieved it appears to be over.” Declan handed me a glass of water. We sat on barstools made from oak bourbon barrels at the enormous island in his even more enormous kitchen. “I’m just shocked that Jenna, Ben, and Danny pulled off this much destruction by themselves. They’re not the sharpest pencils in the box, if you know what I mean.”

  I laughed. I hadn’t been planning on getting into my theory that someone else was pulling Jenna’s, Ben’s, and Danny’s strings, but I guessed to anyone who knew them, it was obvious.

  “Any idea where they got the military grade tacin?” Declan continued.r />
  I shook my head. “No, and the FBI have confirmed that neither Jenna, Ben, nor Danny appear in your security footage.”

  “But they found my lab’s tacin at Jenna’s house…” He let his hand drop and ran his fingers along my leg.

  “Hopefully, good interrogators will get an explanation out of them. I just know there’s enough evidence to keep them locked away while federal prosecutors build a strong case. They won’t walk.” I studied the mini-quiche in my hand, admiring the small bits of bacon, turkey, and tomato mixed with cheese and a flaky crust.

  “Then why do you seem so worried still?”

  I lifted my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “That little hot brown can’t be that interesting.”

  I dropped the quiche on the plate and wiped my hands against my napkin. “It’s just that… Something still feels off. As you so eloquently put it, I have a hard time believing they acted alone.”

  “Well, there’s nothing you can do about it tonight. And didn’t Ty tell you he would continue to monitor the chat rooms? He’ll call you if he finds any evidence of threats on the Bluegrass Derby.”

  I nodded. He was right. “What now?” I asked.

  He cocked a brow while brushing his fingers along my left hand. “Now? You get some sleep. Tomorrow promises to be a long, exciting, but tiring day.”

  I turned my hand over, sliding my fingers through his. “What if I told you I’m not really that tired?” The words were out of my mouth before I’d given myself time to think about them. And my heart picked up pace just trying to read his facial expression. “Actually, I’m quite the opposite.”

  “Then I’d say I have ideas for how we can remedy that.” There was hunger in his eyes. A desire for me that I hadn’t witnessed in a very long time.

  He stood, and not letting go of my hand, pulled me to him. “I’d like to take you to bed, Brooke Fairfax.” My eyes locked on to his. I studied the yearning there that I’d seen moments before, but I also found patience and gentleness.

  For the first time since I’d met Declan O’Roark, I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. I no longer felt the guilt of betrayal.

  I nodded. And without a word, Declan squeezed my hand and led me wordlessly through the house, up the stairs, and down the hallway toward his bedroom. I stopped just shy of the threshold and pulled my hand from his.

  He turned and took a couple of steps back to me. Worry swam in the trenches that formed between his brows. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

  I looked down at the floral pattern on my long skirt, then back up. “No. It’s not that.”

  “Then what?” He cupped my cheek.

  “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.”

  “I plan to know everything there is to know about you… eventually,” he said in a low, confident voice. He played with a lock of hair that had fallen out of the up-do Mrs. G’s stylist had created for me. “I plan to peel back every single complicated layer. When you’re ready.”

  “But to be fair,” I started. “Before I enter this room, I need you to understand that I’m broken. There are things about me that only a couple of other people in this world know. And when you learn about these things, you might change your mind about wanting me.” I swallowed. “And that’s okay.”

  He angled his head, and touching my chin, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. “You’re wrong,” he whispered. “When you’re ready to talk about whatever those things are, I’ll be here. And I won’t be going anywhere.”

  “In that case, take me to bed. We’ll just have to see where this takes us.”

  Not a second later, he rushed me. He threw his arms around me and lifted me so that my face was even with his. I had no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck, letting my braced arm dangle awkwardly behind him.

  Burying his face into my neck, he said, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I watched you fall up the steps at the Governor’s Mansion in your Jimmy Choos.”

  I laughed.

  Squeezing me tighter to him, he backed into his bedroom and closed the door with his foot.

  Chapter 36

  Declan

  I stepped from the bathroom the next morning and smiled when I saw Brooke’s skirt and matching blouse draped over a chair. Her Miu Mius lay on the floor next to it. Her gun, phone, and badge rested on the bedside table.

  A layer, I mused. I had meant it when I told her I would peel back the many layers that made up Brooke Fairfax. One thing I did know was that she was created for analyzing things and stopping bad guys. She had seemed morose and without direction the night I met her at Truman’s Derby kickoff party, and again in the days after. But two things had slowly brought her out of that sadness. Riding my horses had made her smile when no one was looking; and solving this case had given her a confidence that was missing.

  I hoped she would eventually trust me to know exactly why she’d left the FBI. It was more than the loss of her husband, that much I knew. And maybe, in time, she’d figure out that she belonged in law enforcement. I’d just have to make sure she could do that work from right here in Kentucky.

  Dressed in jeans and one of my stable’s polos, I lay back on the bed, my back propped against the headboard. She slept peacefully beside me, having only fallen asleep shortly after three a.m. It was five thirty now, but I had to be at the track well before the media began pushing their way into the barns of the horses running in the famous stakes race later that day. Aidan had assured me that if I could just keep the media attention on me rather than on him and the horses, he’d make sure all our horses would be in position to run strong races.

  Brooke was on her stomach, her bandaged arm lying carefully beside her. Her face pointed in my direction, but it was covered by a veil of silky brunette hair. I ran my fingers lightly against her bare back. Her skin was a perfect shade of warm ivory, and as I felt the smoothness and warmth of her beneath my palm, I knew.

  I knew she had me. It wouldn’t matter what dark secret she had in her past, I wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was she.

  Hell, after last night, I was having a difficult time just leaving her for a few hours.

  She groaned, rolling to her side and snuggling closer to me. I pulled the covers up, and after sliding down to lie beside her, I drew her close. After a few seconds, she bent her head into my chest and inhaled. Then with her good hand she patted my chest and arm. Her eyes popped open. “You’re showered. And dressed.”

  “Good morning,” I answered.

  She frowned. “What time is it?”

  “Five thirty.”

  She rolled her head into the pillow and groaned her disappointment. “Don’t you ever sleep?

  “As much as it delights me that my being dressed disappoints you, I have to get to the track.”

  “What?” She pushed herself up and grabbed the sheet, tucking it under her arms. “When? Now?”

  “Yes. The media doesn’t rest on Derby Day.”

  “Want me to go with you?”

  “No. I want you to get some more sleep.”

  She threw herself back against the pillow. “Oh, thank goodness!”

  I smiled as I linked my hand with hers. I badly wanted to stay, but I knew I couldn’t. Hugging her close again, I whispered, “Tomorrow, we’ll stay in bed the whole day.”

  She was already drifting back to sleep. Either she wasn’t a morning person, or she was simply exhausted from the past couple of weeks—or from the exertions of last night.

  “I’ll come back for you at nine,” I said close to her ear. “I’ve set the alarm on your phone for eight. Mrs. G will be here to help you get ready at that time.”

  “Mmmm,” was all she said, so I leaned in and kissed her before I left a sleeping Brooke alone in my bed.

  Chapter 37

  Declan helped me from the limousine that had delivered us to the VIP entrance of Kensington Race Track at eleven a.m. The third of fourteen races was about to go off. We were late.

&nb
sp; The 147th running of the Bluegrass Derby—the fastest and greatest two minutes in sports, according to many—was an all-day event. Which meant there was plenty of time and opportunity for terrorists to strike. However, thankfully, law enforcement was constantly improving, and security was now tight for all public events across the country. With each terrorist event, law enforcement studied and learned—both from what they did wrong as well as what they did right.

  The minute we were out of the car, I heard the rapid fire of cameras clicking and the sound of people yelling Declan’s name.

  “Who’s your date?” one yelled, and I immediately flushed.

  It was only then that it hit me that I was entering such a high-profile social event on Declan’s arm. I supposed I was Declan’s date for the day, but I was also semi-on-duty.

  Declan touched the small of my back as he guided me through a red carpet atmosphere. He leaned in next to my ear. “Where on earth is your gun, Agent Fairfax?”

  We approached security before I could answer him.

  “Please empty your pockets,” a lady announced. Declan placed his wallet and his phone in a small container to go through the X-ray machine. I discreetly removed my badge and flashed it at the man checking purses and small bags. He directed me to another entrance away from Declan.

  On the other side of the security checkpoint, Declan approached me and again slid his hand to my waist. He hadn’t stopped touching me since he’d returned to his house that morning. “You have any idea how sexy that is?” he said. “You wear the badge well.”

  He grabbed my hand and led me through the ticket gate, then we began our maneuvering through the crowd to the elevators that would take us to the sixth floor—Millionaires Row.

  In the crowded elevator, he pulled me close. His hand slid down from my waist, over my hip, to my thigh. “Found it,” he whispered when his fingers brushed over my Glock 23 beneath the loose-fitting skirt of my dress.