"What about Adrienne?"
"I talked to her while you were in the salon. I told her it was over."
"Really?"
"She said she was surprised. But I'm not sure that's true. Even before you came back, Adrienne and I weren't quite in sync. We didn't have enough ease with each other to share our secrets."
"Or hatred of Brussels sprouts."
"You're going to make me eat some, aren't you?"
"I am," she said with a laugh. "But not tonight."
"Thank God—a reprieve." He leaned over and kissed her, because it had just been too long since he'd tasted her lips. He felt an overwhelming rush of desire, of love, of thankfulness that she was alive and safe and with him.
And then her phone buzzed.
As he let her go, he said, "I'm beginning to hate that thing."
She checked her phone. "It's from my friend, Parisa. Nothing important. She just wanted to let me know she's around to help if I need her."
"She's a little late."
"I could have asked sooner, but I had you."
"You're always going to have me."
A shadow crossed her face, and she pulled away, walking over to the windows. As he moved to join her, she turned around.
"Nathan, I love you, too."
"Why am I hearing a but?"
"This city…" She let the words hang. "Chicago is your home. It's where your family is. But I don't know if it's where I want to be. The past is no longer haunting me. Johnny is dead. Stix is dead. Hopefully, there isn't anyone else here who hates me."
"So you could come back. It seemed like the Chicago agents were treating you with more respect tonight."
"I did make my peace with Tracy. But there's something else."
He read the truth in her eyes. "Hayley."
She nodded. "I don't know if I could live here and not want to see her all the time. I just think it would be too hard."
"Maybe you could see her—be a part of her life. Mark and Lindsay are reasonable people. And after you saved their daughter, I think they feel damned grateful to you."
"That's probably all true. But I need to let them tell Hayley when it's right for her and for their family. That might not be for a long while."
He felt a heaviness settling over his heart, the same despair he'd felt when she'd gotten on the bus eleven years ago, and he'd wondered if he'd ever see her again. For days afterward, he'd been mired in pain—a pain that had gone far deeper than his physical wounds. Was he really going to let her walk away again?
"I can leave Chicago, Bree."
"But you love it here."
"I love you more. I can be a contractor anywhere. I do have to finish the house I'm working on, but after that, I can free myself up." As he was spoke, he was actually starting to like the idea. "It's not like I've never thought of leaving before."
"There's still Josie and Grace. You family is here."
"They have Kyle. And he might actually appreciate not having Josie's big brother looking over his shoulder."
"He might need you looking over his shoulder."
"I can still do that. And I can still see my sister and my niece. There are plenty of flights to Chicago from all over the world. I've never lived in New York. It might be fun."
"I can't believe you'd move for me," she said in wonder. "I feel selfish."
"No. You're not being selfish; you're being honest. I think it would be difficult for you to be here with Hayley nearby, at least for the foreseeable future. I still hope that will change, because I think you'd both be better off if you were in each other's lives. But everything is fresh and raw and needs time to settle out."
"I can work out of other cities besides New York," she said. "I went there because I had a mentor there, but he died last summer, and while I love my team, I could do something else somewhere else. Maybe we start over someplace new."
"I like the sound of that. We could always go west, find a house by the beach."
"With a view of a beautiful harbor and lots of sailboats," she said.
"When we dreamed that as kids, I always saw you in the picture."
"I saw you, too. I actually saw you on a surfboard."
He grinned. "I have never been on a surfboard."
"You'd look so good on one. I can see you now in a pair of sexy board shorts." She took her hands in his, her expression turning serious. "I do love you, Nathan. I loved you when I was a scared girl and you were my sweet, protective friend. I loved you when I was a reckless, rebellious teenager making stupid decisions and not sure how to handle the weird feelings I sometimes got when I was around you."
"You did not."
"I did. I just didn't realize it. And then I stupidly chose to get involved with a mobster." She gave him a helpless smile. "But I loved you when you helped me get away, when you kept my secret, when you supported my choice." She took a breath, gazing deep into his eyes. "Most importantly, I love you now. I love who I am with you. I love how we are together. It feels so honest. I feel so connected to you. I can't imagine even going back to New York for one day without you."
His heart swelled as he read the absolute truth in her eyes. "I feel the same way. We know each other's hearts. So, let's find a way to be together."
"Okay, let's do it."
"It as in…"
She laughed. "Yes, but maybe not tonight. You should sleep. You're so bruised; you must be in pain."
"The only thing I feel right now is happy. I will sleep later—after I show you how much I love you."
"You already did that a thousand times over today. So, let me show you." She gave him a tender kiss and led him into the bedroom.
Twenty-One
Happiness was pretty simple, Bree thought, as she and Nathan ate breakfast late Monday morning. They'd had a wonderful Sunday—making love, sleeping, talking, and watching a stupidly funny movie at one point, because they just needed to laugh. They didn't talk about anything that had happened, giving themselves a twenty-four-hour hiatus on all dark and serious subjects. But that hiatus was coming to an end.
The call from Nathan's doorman confirmed that Agent Tracy Cox was on her way up.
Bree got to her feet, taking their empty plates to the sink.
"Does it feel like bad news if she's coming here to talk to you?" Nathan asked.
"It doesn't feel like good news. But I guess we'll find out."
Nathan moved down the hall to open the door.
"Sorry to bother you," Tracy said. "But I wanted to touch base before you go back to New York. Or are you going back to New York?" she asked, her speculative gaze encompassing both of them.
Bree smiled at Nathan, then looked back at Tracy. "My long-term plans are up in the air, but I will be heading back to New York in a few days. I just need to catch my breath."
"That's completely understandable."
"So, what have you learned?" she asked.
"We found the woman who was taking care of Hayley. It was Stanley Tix's older sister, Carla. She said her brother rented her a house in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin for two weeks and told her he needed her to take care of a little girl who was in trouble. He claimed that Johnny was going to kill the child if Stan didn't hide her away, and that Johnny had already killed the girl's parents. Carla didn't have internet or cable at the house, so she claims she was unaware that the girl she was taking care of had been kidnapped."
"And local newspapers in Wisconsin might not have covered the kidnapping," Bree said. "He was smart to take her out of Illinois."
"Carla is still facing serious charges, but on first glance, it doesn't appear she did anything except take care of Hayley."
"I'm glad there was someone there to do that. What about the girl on the train? Emma and her sister, Tasha? Any word on who they were tied to?"
"Yes. Tasha is an actress. She and her sister, Emma, were standing in line at an open-call audition when a man approached them. He gave them $5000 cash to stay in the shelter for two nights and then hang in a car with
him one day. She said they were outside the FBI office and they watched you walk to the train. Emma and her sister followed, Emma talked to you, then went to the café where she met up with Tasha. They left the flyer at the café and the photo in the shelter."
"Such an elaborate scheme," she murmured.
"Very complicated," Tracy agreed. "Not something most people would think of."
"I didn't know Stix was that clever," Nathan put in.
"The girls must have been able to give a description of their contact," Bree suggested.
"Yes, and we have a sketch of him." Tracy reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you recognize him? He's apparently on the shorter side—five-five, Tasha thought. He's probably late twenties, brown hair, beard, bad skin."
Bree stared at the photo, but the face didn't seem at all familiar. "I don't know this guy."
She glanced at Nathan.
He shook his head. "I don't, either."
"That's too bad," Tracy said. "We don't have anything else to go on. He paid the girls in cash. He didn't tell them his name. They said they were in a gray car, but they didn't know the make or the license plate. The man didn't speak much beyond giving them instructions of what to do."
"I'm sure he was a minor level player," Bree commented, handing Tracy the sketch.
"That would be my guess," Tracy agreed. "We'll pass this on to organized crime. As they go through the members associated with Johnny and/or Stanley Tix, they may be able to identify him."
"I'd sure like to tie him up as a loose end. Stix did tell me that someone fed him the information about Hayley's birth and adoption, and I still don't know who that is."
"Neither do we, but I can tell you this—someone provided Stix with a great deal of information about you, not just about Hayley's birth. We found pages from your FBI file at the house in Wisconsin."
Her jaw dropped in shock. "What?"
"All the details from the investigations you've been conducting since you got to New York, reports and reviews dating back to your training at Quantico. We also found personal handwritten notes that refer to the adoption agency used by the Jansens and the name of a woman—Diane Miller. I'm assuming that's the same Diane you told us about, the one who had set you up in Detroit"
"Her last name was Brady when I knew her."
"They both could be aliases."
"What does this mean?" Nathan interrupted. "Are you saying that Stix had help from someone in the FBI? Who else could get an FBI file?"
"It sure looks that way," Tracy said. "And there's something else. Detective Charles Benedict was found dead of an overdose in his home last night."
Bree had almost thought she'd lost the ability to be shocked, but the hits just kept on coming. "Suicide?"
"It looks that way. He left a note saying he was sorry he'd crossed a line he shouldn't have crossed. We're not sure what it means yet, but it appears you were right about him being involved in some way."
"That's all the note said? Nothing more specific?" she asked.
"Unfortunately not. The police are investigating as well. We'll also look into any connections Benedict might have had with anyone in the bureau, in case he was the one who provided that FBI file to Mr. Tix." Tracy took a breath. "On a positive note, Hayley is safe. Johnny and a half-dozen men who worked for his criminal enterprise are dead. Stix and his associates are also dead. So, the streets are going to be safer for a lot of people."
"What about Sierra?" Nathan asked.
"She's not talking," Tracy replied. "But it doesn't appear she knows much of anything. I think that's it." She paused. "If we need more information from either of you, I'm sure someone will be in touch."
"Someone?" Bree asked curiously. "Not you?"
"I'm going to be on vacation the next week or so."
"Really? Where are you going?"
Tracy flushed. "I hear there's a lovely beach in Ecuador."
She smiled. "You're going to see Diego."
"If he's in the area, I might look him up."
"Tell him I said hello."
"I don't know if it's a good idea," Tracy said, uncertainty in her gaze. "I haven't seen him in years."
And suddenly Bree wondered if this was really why Tracy had made the trip over to Nathan's apartment to brief them.
"I hadn't seen Nathan in eleven years. Sometimes time doesn't matter."
"We'll see. I'm not quite the romantic you are."
"Bree is not romantic," Nathan said with a laugh. "I am the romantic one."
"Hey," she said, giving him a playful punch on the arm. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's true. You might be one badass, superwoman, FBI agent, but sentimental romantic stuff—that is not your thing. But I don't care, because I just need you, not the romance."
"Well, maybe I'll surprise you," she told him, knowing once again he was right about her.
Tracy smiled as she got to her feet. "I'm glad you two found each other again. And I'm glad you and I got to work together again, Bree. Good luck with whatever comes next."
"You, too," she said.
"I'll let myself out," Tracy added, nodding to Nathan.
As the door shut behind Tracy, Nathan said, "What do you think about all that? Was Detective Benedict Stix's connection? Or is there someone else we need to worry about?"
"I'm not sure. I'm unsettled by the fact that my FBI file was in the house in Wisconsin, but with Stix and Benedict both dead, I think we're okay. Stix was really the only one with motive. He could have paid someone to give him that file. Perhaps Detective Benedict used his agency connections to get it. The FBI and the police will probably dig up more information over the next few months."
"Months? I'd like the answers now."
"And here I thought I was the impatient one." She moved closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I think we're good, Nathan."
"We're very good," he said, giving her a kiss. "I just wish we could start the rest of our lives right now. But you have to go back to New York."
"And you need to finish your house. We'll be responsible people and take care of our obligations, and then we'll be free to do whatever we want to do."
"As long as we do it together, I'm happy." He gave her a wicked smile. "I am, however, feeling a little weak. I don't know if I'm completely healed from my injuries. I think I should go back to bed, and you should go with me."
"That sounds like a plan."
Epilogue
Six weeks later
Bree landed at Chicago O'Hare a little before four and grabbed a cab to get into town. She had a six-hour layover in Chicago, which gave her just enough time to attend one very special birthday party before she and Nathan got another plane to Los Angeles. The next chapter in their lives was about to begin. She could hardly wait.
The last month and a half had been incredibly busy. She'd had to finish up the current work on her plate, which had been made easier by the arrest of the White Rose Kidnapper, thereby closing the biggest case she'd been working on. That man would be going to jail for the rest of his life.
In addition, she’d kept in touch with the Chicago team, who had wrapped up Hayley’s kidnapping case. It appeared that Detective Benedict had been working with Stix, as the police had found evidence of several calls and a money transfer between them. She still didn’t know how Benedict had gotten her FBI file, or figured out that Hayley was her child, but she was satisfied that the key players were dead.
Her last lingering concern had been that Johnny's family would try to lay claim to Hayley, but apparently Johnny had not had time to tell anyone in his family that Hayley was his daughter, and the FBI and police had kept that information out of the press, maintaining that Hayley's copycat kidnapping had been used to lure Bree to Chicago where Stix could get revenge on her and Johnny, the two people he believed had destroyed his life.
The only other person in Johnny's circle who knew differently was Sierra, but she'd kept her mouth shut, preferring to e
njoy the money and the deed to her salon that Johnny had left her in his will.
Feeling confident that Hayley was out of danger, she'd moved forward with her own plans, calling contacts and scouring available jobs with the FBI office in Los Angeles, finally landing one in White-Collar Crime. Going after individuals and companies involved in financial and corporate fraud would be a nice change from the sadness that had often come with the CARD team. While she was very proud of the work she had done, she was ready to live a life that was not quite so dark, but she could still put criminals out of business.
She tapped her fingers impatiently on her thighs as the taxi took her to Lincoln Park. She thought about that morning almost seven weeks ago when she'd come to Chicago to find Hayley.
She'd found her daughter, her love, her life…and to think how afraid she'd been to return. Sometimes confronting the past was a good thing.
Finally, the cab pulled up in front of Hayley's house. There were no news vans out front, just two large bouquets of balloons on either side of the walkway. And coming down the street was Nathan. He must have been waiting for her.
She jumped out of the cab and threw herself into his arms.
They'd talked every day of the last six weeks, sometimes more than once, and they'd done a bunch of video chats, but now she was holding him, kissing him, sharing the love and the passion that had only grown deeper with absence. It was difficult to tear herself away, but she managed to do so with a breathless laugh.
"We better keep this PG-rated," she said. "We're on the sidewalk."
"I don't care," he said with a grin. "I've missed you, Bree."
"I've missed you, too." She kissed him again. "I'm so excited to start our life together. No regrets about leaving Chicago?"
"Not even a small one. I'm ready to go. Are you?"
"As soon as we do this," she said, feeling nervous for another reason.
She hadn't seen or spoken to Hayley or the Jansens since she'd dropped Hayley off at the hospital after the confrontation with Stix, but a week earlier, she'd received an invitation to Hayley's birthday party. It had obviously been written by Hayley, but there had been a small handwritten note attached from Lindsay, saying she hoped she could make it.
Reckless Whisper KO PL B Page 24
