The difference was their home wasn’t a museum but one where they could live and entertain in elegant comfort. A home he wanted to come to every night to eat with his wife and children, a home filled with love and laughter from the other children he hoped to have with Alex. He climbed the staircase to the second floor, and hadn’t gotten halfway when the doorbell rang.
A slight frown furrowed his forehead. He wasn’t expecting anyone, because he’d just begun sleeping at the house. With Alex in the hospital he’d decided to give Michael and Jolene a break so they could enjoy their domicile with the presence of guests, even if the guests were family members. The bell chimed again.
Thinking perhaps it was one of his neighbors who saw the light on in the first story, he retraced his steps. Peering through the security eye, he saw the face of a woman with light-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail. Reaching around his back, he unsnapped the strap on his gun’s holster. He opened the solid oak door and stared through the tempered glass on the storm door. The woman had pressed a photo ID against the glass. She was CIA. Maybe she’d come up with something on Duffy.
Merrick reached for the latch on the door, but before he could open it the familiar sound of a gunshot echoed in the quietness of the spring night. Dropping to a crouching position, he reached for his gun, holding it in a two-handed grip. The agent lay on the top step, her right arm in an awkward position, her government-issued automatic dangling from her fingers.
It was apparent no one heard the shot because none of the residents came out of their houses. They probably thought it was a car backfiring.
Merrick went completely still when he saw a tall shadowy figure move closer. The man had both hands raised above his head. There was something familiar about the man; he moved under a street lamp and Merrick recognized him. He was Cordero Birmingham, associate Bureau chief for the FBI’s Northeast region.
Kicking the door open a fraction, Merrick trained the gun on the special agent. “State your name and your business.”
“Special Agent Cordero Birmingham, FBI associate Bureau chief, Northeast,” he drawled in a distinctive Southwest intonation. He climbed the front steps, kicking the gun away from the motionless hand. Leaning down, he pressed two fingers against the woman’s neck. “She’s alive.” He straightened. “I’m going to reach into my jacket to get my cell phone to call 911.”
“Don’t,” Merrick warned. “I’ll make the call.” Reaching into the breast pocket of his shirt, he took out the phone and dialed the three digits without taking his gaze off the special agent. The lamps framing the house highlighted silver hair with traces of red, a lean face with a pair of brilliant topaz-blue eyes. The call took less than twenty seconds.
“You didn’t state your business.”
“I came here to save your life.”
“You call shooting one of my colleagues saving my life?”
“She’s dirty.”
“How do I know you’re not dirty?”
“You don’t. But if I were you I wouldn’t be standing here talking to me. Your wife would be making arrangements to bury her husband. And she would raise a child who would never know her father. Just like you never knew your father or your mother.”
Merrick’s eyes fluttered but the gun never wavered. “What do you know about my mother?”
“I was her partner on one undercover mission, and I swore an oath that I would always protect her.”
Merrick felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Cordero Birmingham was the voice.
Lowering the gun, he secured it behind his back. He had questions, lots of questions he wanted the special agent to answer. But they would have to wait, as the sound of approaching sirens shattered the tranquillity of the night.
Chapter 35
Merrick sat across from Cordero Birmingham listening to the man reveal more than thirty-five years of secrets. When the EMTs arrived, along with the police, Cordero took charge when he identified himself.
The injured woman wasn’t an employee of the CIA, but an impostor with counterfeit identification who’d been hired to murder a federal agent, and the Bureau would send a report backing up his course of action.
“You got Duffy?” he asked.
“We picked him up on a private airstrip as he was preparing to leave for parts unknown.”
“How did you get him?” Merrick asked. “We’ve been burning the midnight oil going through hundreds of thousand of international banking transactions.”
“And it paid off.”
“What!”
“While you were at the hospital visiting your wife and baby, Justin Jefferson found what you’d been looking for. We got the call and we had agents watching Duffy’s house, his vacation place in McLean and his private jet.”
“How did you know about the hit?”
“We finally got a judge who wasn’t in Duffy’s pocket willing to approve a wiretap. We put a cleaning woman in and she placed transmitters in every one of his phones. He never used his house phone for his business. He had five cell phones, each with a direct connection to someone able and willing to do his bidding—for a price of course.”
“How did he know we were investigating him?”
“You have a leak at Langley.”
“Who?”
“William Reid.”
“No!” Merrick groaned, shaking his head. He’d always liked Bill Reid. “Why?”
“Duffy was blackmailing him. He’d set Reid up with a hooker, and when your supervisor woke up the next day, the woman wasn’t breathing. Reid thought he’d killed her when the cause of death was a food allergy. Duffy removed all evidence that Reid had ever been in the room. He convinced Reid to transfer from the Bureau to the Company because he needed a snitch inside Langley.”
Merrick, sandwiching his hands between his knees, closed his eyes. “What is your stake in all of this?”
“I told you Victoria was my partner.”
Merrick opened his eyes. “You said that before.”
Cordero Birmingham looped one leg over the opposite knee, staring at the young man sitting less than three feet from him. He was so incredibly smart, yet he couldn’t see what was so obvious.
“I was in love with her. It was my child Victoria was carrying when Duffy turned on her because she rejected his advances.”
A tense silence enveloped the room as the two men regarded each other. It was as if Merrick could suddenly see the similarities that were so overtly apparent: height, the lean face, high cheekbones, aquiline nose and reddish hair.
“You’re telling me that you are my father?”
Cordero nodded. “Yes.”
“How long have you known about me?”
Cordero held his forehead. “I realized who you were when I signed off on your security clearance when you first applied to the CIA. I’d gone as high as I could at the DEA, so I requested a transfer to the Bureau.” He lowered his hand, bright blue eyes flashing like lasers. “I wanted to contact you but you were always on some covert operation, so I decided it was better I keep my distance.”
“Did you know I’d been shot?”
“Yes. I came to see you in the hospital, but you were heavily sedated. I wanted to tell you that you weren’t alone. That you had family—you had a father.”
“I have a family now.”
Cordero smiled, flashing his perfect white teeth, teeth that Merrick had inherited. “I know that you’re married and you have a little girl.”
Merrick flashed a proud smile. “She has red hair.”
Running a hair over his coarse silver hair, Cordero lifted his eyebrows. “I had red hair. My father’s hair was a bright red—almost orange.”
“Where did you learn Spanish?”
“My mother was half Mexican.”
“Was the other half Yaqui?”
“Yes. How do you know that?”
“Someone told me I look Yaqui.”
“You do. My father was a Brit who lost his heart to a young Mexican woman he me
t when he came to the States on holiday.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“I had a brother, but he died in Vietnam. His death devastated my parents.”
“Tell me about my mother.”
“She was very pretty and very, very smart. Victoria would read something once and she’d never forget it.”
“Was she African-American?”
Cordero nodded. “Yes. Why?”
Merrick clasped his hands. “I didn’t know what it was, but I’ve always felt African-American. Do you have a photograph of her?”
Reaching into his jacket, Cordero took out a wallet. He opened it and pulled out a small fading black-and-white photograph. “I’ve carried this close to my heart for longer than I can remember.” He handed Merrick the photo. “When she told me she was pregnant, I told her to request a transfer back to the States so that we could marry, but Duffy was the agent-in-charge, so he stopped it.”
Merrick stared at the photograph of the woman who’d given up her life for him. There was something about her face that reminded him of his daughter’s. He handed the photograph to Cordero.
“Her granddaughter looks like her.”
Overcome with emotion, Cordero willed the tears filling his eyes not to fall. “Do you think I can see her?”
Merrick averted his gaze. Too much had happened, too much had been said and too much had been revealed in a very short span of time. “I came home to get something for Alex to wear. I’m going back to the hospital. Would you like to come with me?”
Cordero let out an audible exhalation of breath. “Yes. It’s going to be strange meeting David Cole’s daughter when I haven’t seen her uncle in more than forty years.”
Merrick froze. “You know Martin Cole?”
“No. Joshua Kirkland.”
“How do you know Joshua?”
“We worked together on a joint task force operation that yielded the largest drug bust in Mexican history. I was new to the game and hadn’t realized we had a leak in the operation until someone tried to gut Joshua. If it hadn’t been for Mateo Arroyo, also known as Matthew Sterling, Joshua wouldn’t have made it.”
Merrick’s head was spinning. What were the odds that his father knew Emily’s father and her father-in-law? “Joshua’s daughter is married to Matt’s son.”
Cordero’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. As soon as Alex and Victoria—”
“Victoria? You named your daughter Victoria?”
“Yes. It was Alex’s decision. We’re all going to Florida next month. I’d like you to come and see your old friends.”
Cordero’s smile was blinding. “I’d like that very much. Thank you.”
A phone rang and both men reached for their cell phones. “It’s mine,” Merrick said. “Hello. Yes, baby. I know I should’ve been back hours ago. I’m coming, but I want to warn you that I’m bringing somebody. No, I can’t tell you. I won’t tell you. You’ll see when we get there. Yes, you’re going to like it. Hang up and I’ll see you in a bit.”
He disconnected the call, meeting Cordero’s knowing gaze. “Women.”
“I know, son. You can’t live with them, and we definitely can’t live without them.”
Merrick stood up, Cordero following suit. “Did you ever marry? Have more children?”
“No. I wasn’t the marrying kind, but Victoria changed my mind. By the time I was ready to settle down with a wife and child she was gone. I’ve had a few serious relationships, but nothing that would make me commit to marriage. One love in one lifetime is enough.”
“Come upstairs with me and see where your grandbaby girl is going to hang out.”
Cordero followed Merrick up the staircase, feeling the warmth in the historic old house even though his daughter-in-law and granddaughter weren’t there.
He thought about Victoria and how she would react to becoming a grandmother. There was no doubt she would’ve been just a little crazy. He would wait awhile, get to know his son better, and then he intended to spoil his grandbaby girl rotten.
Epilogue
The Cole clan gathered in Boca Raton to welcome and introduce Victoria Cole-Grayslake to her many relatives.
Merrick carried his two-month-old daughter while Alex held the hand of her father-in-law. It was a perfect Florida late-spring day—warm, sunny, the temperatures in the low seventies.
Serena spied Alex first and took off running. She’d wanted to come to Virginia after her daughter had given birth, but David talked her out of it. That was the last time she swore she would listen to the man.
She held out her arms. “Let me see the precious angel.” Merrick placed the sleeping infant in Serena’s arms. Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, she’s so beautiful.” Cradling her in one arm, she untied the satin ribbons on her linen cap. A slight breeze lifted strands of red-gold hair. “Oh, goodness! She’s a redhead.”
David came over and eased the baby from his wife’s arms. “What a beauty.” Victoria opened her eyes and smiled a crooked smile. “Hey, Merrick, you better keep a close eye on your daughter because you’re going to have to beat the boys off with a stick.”
Merrick smiled. “I’d rather use a gun. I’ll sit on the roof and pop the little knuckleheads before they reach the front door.”
“Who’s shooting who?” asked a deep voice.
Merrick turned to find Joshua Kirkland behind him.
“Joshua, there’s someone here who thinks he knows you.”
Joshua lifted his pale eyebrows. “Who?”
“My father.”
Vertical lines marred Joshua’s forehead. “Your father?” He’d been told Merrick was orphaned at birth.
“Don’t tell me that you’re so old you’re now senile.”
With light green eyes widening in shock, Joshua stared at a man to whom he owed his life. “Cord Birmingham?”
Cordero released Alex’s hand, extending his arms to Joshua. “In the flesh.” The two men embraced, slapped each other’s backs and howled like coyotes.
Joshua turned and searched the crowd. “Matt, get over here and see who decided to join the family.”
Matthew Sterling stood up, squinting slightly when he saw Joshua hugging someone who looked vaguely familiar. It wasn’t until Cordero smiled that he recognized the toothpaste-ad grin.
“I’ll be double damned! Cord! You old geezer!” He grabbed him in a bear hug, then kissed both his cheeks.
“Old!” Cordero spat out. “I’m younger than both you farts.”
Matt rested an arm on the shoulder of the man who’d stood in as a witness for his wedding to Eve Blackwell. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to meet my granddaughter’s family.”
Matt looked from Cordero to Merrick, then back again. How had he missed the resemblance? “You’ve got a helluva son.”
“I know that,” Cordero said without a modicum of modesty.
Joshua rested his arm on Cordero’s other shoulder. “This calls for a celebration. Let’s go inside and start the celebration early.”
“You know you can’t drink like you used to,” David said, teasing his brother.
Joshua shot him a look. “Speak for yourself, little brother.”
David handed Victoria off to Alex. “Here, cookie, take my grandbaby girl. I’m going to have to prove to these punks that I still can drink them under the table.”
Alex shook her head. “Daddy, you know that you’re too old to play college-boy games.”
David snorted. “From what I heard, the youngbloods couldn’t hold their liquor the night before you got married. Am I not right, Merrick?”
Merrick stared up at the fronds of a sweeping palm tree. “No comment.”
Alex moved over and stood next to her husband. She watched the old friends lock arms as they went off to where they would talk about the old days and the old times undisturbed.
“I like your dad.”
Merrick w
rapped an arm around her waist. “I like him, too.”
“You know that he’s spoiling Victoria.”
“That’s what grandparents are supposed to do. You’ll do the same once we have grandbabies.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. “But that’s not going to be for a long time. Right now I want to have fun making babies.”
He dropped a kiss on her hair. “When do you want to start making another one?”
“We can try again in two years.”
He tightened his hold, bringing her closer to his side. “That sounds like a good deal.”
Alex tilted her head, and she wasn’t disappointed when he brushed a kiss over her parted lips.
Gabriel strolled over with his pregnant new wife. “Get a room.”
“Bite me, Gabriel,” she retorted.
Gabriel winked at his brother-in-law. “Is that what she tells you in the throes of passion? Bite me, bite me, baby,” he said in a falsetto.
Merrick, his expression impassive, turned and looked at Alex. “How come you never tell me to bite you?”
She stomped her foot. “Merrick Grayslake, you’re going to get it.”
“I hope so, because it’s been a while.”
Her face burning in shame, Alex smiled at Summer. “Please come with me. I think Victoria needs to be changed.” The two women walked while their men roared in laughter.
Laughter, shrieks, whispered words of passion set the stage for another reunion, this one more poignant than the other ones. Merrick found his father, and his father found old friends who were now his family.
There were a few new Coles on the way who would one day take their place and risk everything for love.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0062-7
© 2007 by Rochelle Alers
All rights reserved. The reproduction, transmission or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without written permission. For permission please contact Kimani Press, Editorial Office, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
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