Breach of Trust

by DiAnn Mills

  But Keary’s confidence would be his downfall. Mikaela’s concern for Nathan could be her downfall unless she proceeded as an operative and not as a panic-stricken mother.

  The narrow span of time left to prove Keary’s guilt made her plan risky, but it gave her the edge. He wouldn’t see the bulldozer knocking over the campaign signs.

  * * *

  Saturday morning before breakfast, Miles decided to pull a tree stump from his side yard. It had been there since last May. Didn’t matter that the ground was rock hard. He simply needed physical work that didn’t call for much thinking, and spending an hour on a tractor with some chains would help relieve the frustrations anchored in his life.

  The team’s loss last night still weighed heavily on his mind, but what his boys had learned was far more valuable than the satisfaction of a perfect season—they’d learned how to be men.

  At ten thirty, his stomach growled and the stump hadn’t budged. He readjusted the chain fastened around it and picked up a thermos of coffee in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. After a long cold drink and several hot gulps of the other, he sized up his problems—all of them—and realized the only one he had any control over was the stump.

  George pulled into the driveway and stepped out of his car. Fearing something might have happened to Walt, Chris, Paige, or any of a dozen other folks, Miles switched off the tractor’s engine.

  “Hey, George. What brings you out here?”

  “I made an arrest this morning at Denim’s, and I wanted to tell you about it.”

  “Hope it’s decent news, ’cause I’m in a bad mood.”

  George gave him a grim smile. “Ty Dalton. I arrested him for shooting the Greywolf kid and burning your barn.”

  “Did he confess?”

  “He refused to tell me where he was during the shooting. Enough evidence for me. And the fire marshal found his fingerprints at your barn’s site.”

  “He and Chris had a few words at last night’s game.”

  “Heard about it from one of the refs. Ty was drunk at seven thirty this morning. Drinking coffee and swearing up a blue streak about how you’d put his boy in the hospital. He didn’t even know the ER released Chris shortly after midnight.” George shook his head. “Before Dalton took that stint for WorldMarc Oil in Africa, he was a decent man. Not sure what happened there, but he’s been a horse’s . . . well, a pain ever since. He asked me not to tell his wife. Wanted her to find out like the other folks, I guess.”

  Is this closer to being over? “Possibly.”

  George rubbed his jaw. “Been to see Paige?”

  Miles nodded. “Just once. She didn’t want me to come back.” That much was true.

  “I sure hate what’s happened. Sure do. I suspected something with Paige, but nothing like this. Voleta couldn’t bring herself to go see her. I’m real sorry. Heard she—”

  “George, I don’t want to talk about it.” Miles wanted to tell him to mind his own business and get on down the road. But he had a strong feeling that the truth about Daniel Keary was about to . . . get uprooted. “Guess I’ll get on back to this stump.”

  “That’s what I do when I have a lot of stuff on my mind.”

  “Does it help?”

  “Nah. Just makes me so tired, I don’t care.”

  George left and Miles continued to brood. He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. Within thirty minutes, with the stump still refusing to move an inch and his stomach growling even more, Miles saw Ginny Dalton drive up. Chris climbed awkwardly out of the car.

  “How you feelin’?”

  “On pain pills. Can’t drive.” He pointed to the stump. “If I could, I’d give you a hand.”

  “Oh, this is a solo project.” Miles stared at the kid. “Sorry about your dad.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry too. Mom’s . . . pretty upset.” Chris blew out an exasperated breath. “Life sure can be a mess.”

  Miles wished the young didn’t have to grow up so fast. “I’ll be praying for all of you.”

  A mockingbird broke through the silence.

  “Thanks, Coach. I had my mom drive me over to Walt’s house. I apologized for all the stuff I started. I owe you one for slicing your tire.”

  “I figured it was you. All I ever needed was an apology.”

  “I . . . I took a tire to Walt when I went to see him. Wasn’t easy.”

  Miles squinted with a little liquid emotion that slipped from the corner of one eye.

  “Walt’s parents treated me like I was their long-lost kid. His little brothers and sisters acted like Walt and I were heroes. Mom and I stayed for breakfast, and man, his mom is some cook.”

  “I ate breakfast there once. I know what you mean.”

  Chris looked at his mom sitting in the car. “Well, I just wanted to tell you what happened and stuff.”

  “You’re a good man, Chris Dalton.”

  “Thanks. See ya on Monday.”

  Miles waved again at Ginny and Chris. A peanut butter and mayo sandwich sounded good before he pulled out the stump.

  Chapter 53

  “Good job in finding out where they’re holding Nathan,” I say to Stevens over the phone. “All three in the same place. The CIA made it easy for us after the problem in Wisconsin.”

  “Yeah, but my contact’s finished. She got a call from Palmer saying he needed to see her right away. I didn’t like the sound of it. So while she showered, I removed the bug. Once she left, I cleaned up the place.”

  That means it will take some time to find Mikaela’s parents, but there is no longer any reason to eliminate them. I am disappointed about not killing the coach—I have a personal grudge against him. I glance at my watch. Need to cut this call short. “And you’re sure that woman won’t be able to recognize you later?”

  “Positive.” Stevens chuckles. “The next time, I’d prefer a woman who isn’t ugly and a hundred pounds overweight.”

  I laugh with him. “Hazards of the job.”

  “I will be at the helicopter pad within the hour.”

  “See you then.” I have a passport for Nathan . . . and a change of identity for both of us.

  “Are you regretting the election?”

  “I won what mattered most.” I end the call and glance around the office that has served me well over the past seven years. I can work just as well in France. Perhaps better.

  Chapter 54

  Early Monday morning, Mikaela packed up her belongings and announced her intentions to leave Magnolia Life Center. A nurse, the one she suspected was working for Keary, tried to convince her to prolong her therapy.

  “A while longer will help you work through your problems and obtain the tools to maintain a positive outlook on life,” the dark-haired nurse said. “Our programs work the best when the patient participates for a full month.”

  Mikaela used her best calm demeanor. “I can manage life. If I have problems, then I’ll be back. Thank you for helping me.”

  “You’re welcome.” The head nurse smiled as though she understood. “The doctor wants to see you in a week and strongly urges you to find a counselor. Are you returning to your home in Split Creek?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  The woman stood, chart in hand. “The doctor wrote you a couple of prescriptions. Follow the directions carefully.”

  Mikaela took them and left the facility. She had no phone, and her guns were hidden at home. But she knew Palmer and Keary were alert to her every move. She stopped at a gas station off of I-44, grabbed her shoulder bag with the pink teddy bear, and called Palmer from a pay phone.

  “I left Magnolia Life Center,” Mikaela said. “What’s happened?”

  “My assistant admitted to an affair. Said she’d just been with him and agreed to a test. We have proof it’s Jason Stevens. He’s not answering her calls, and his belongings are gone from their apartment in Virginia—swept clean.”

  “He must have planted a bug.”

  “And had sense enough to retrieve
it. I sent her back to the apartment in case he shows up.”

  Mikaela remembered the woman—midforties and devoted to her job. “I bet he’s taking Zuriel’s place.”

  “Are you headed home?”

  “Yes. I’m going to get my prescriptions filled in Split Creek to make my presence known. I think the mole will show up unannounced.”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Voleta Graft.”

  Mikaela’s senses numbed—all but the sound of Palmer’s voice. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “She used to date Jason Stevens.”

  Voleta? The woman who had weaseled her way into Mikaela’s life under the premise of needing a friend? The woman who’d asked for Mikaela’s help to budget money? The woman who’d helped Mikaela organize a fund-raiser dinner for the Greywolfs? “Are you sure?”

  “She’s been on Keary’s payroll for almost five years. Her real name is Janelle Webster.”

  Anger burned in her chest. “Why didn’t I see that coming?”

  “You weren’t the only one she had fooled. We didn’t figure her out until we dug deeper into Stevens.”

  At last, the mole. “That sure answers a lot of questions.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to focus. “What about Nathan?”

  “He’s all right. His new location is a little north of Dallas, about an hour and a half from Split Creek. We’re working on a tight schedule, so don’t do anything stupid and contact him before this is over.”

  She longed to hear Nathan’s voice, reassure him that soon they’d be together. But every moment was precious. “Okay. I’ll pick up a new cell phone and contact you as soon as I get home.”

  * * *

  Two customers were ahead of Mikaela at the pharmacy, two more people shopped—and all of them stared. Good. The word would get out soon. Her one concern was Miles learning she’d returned and showing up at her front door.

  She paid for the meds and a prepaid cell phone and walked across the street to the doughnut shop for coffee. Voleta usually faced the window looking out into the street. Inside the coffee shop, enticing smells that beat the food at Magnolia Life Center competed against customers gawking at her. More talk. Grabbing a cup of black coffee and a chocolate peanut butter doughnut, she climbed into the car. Take the bait, Voleta.

  After the first bite of doughnut, she called Palmer and gave him her new cell number. In midafternoon, Mikaela opened the door to the little bungalow that had offered so much peace and contentment. She’d miss the warmth . . . the time spent here with Miles . . . and the hours of laughter with Voleta. She and Nathan would have a future together, or she’d die trying. If Miles chose to be a part of it, she’d be one happy lady.

  No doubt Keary planned to spend the upcoming election in an unholy smugness neatly tied with a spectacular gold bow. He’d be furious that she’d left Magnolia Life Center ahead of time, possibly angry enough to slip. That was her ace. Mikaela stood in the middle of her kitchen and scolded herself. God held the reins, not her or the CIA. She finished her coffee and doughnut . . . and waited.

  A knock at the door alerted her to the next step in Keary’s plan. She tucked her automatic into the back of her jeans and pulled her loose shirt over it. The knocking continued. Mikaela grabbed Miss Pepto-Bismol and set the bear on the sofa.

  “Coming,” she called and glanced through the blinds to see Voleta standing on the welcome mat.

  Mikaela opened the door and went into sad and mad mode—the same facade that had given her national acclaim.

  “Hey, girl.” Voleta reached out to hug her. Her hair now had purple and pink streaks, and she’d added another eyebrow ring. “Good to see you.”

  “How did you know I was home?”

  “I saw you get into your car from my window. I wanted to chase you down then, but I was brushing on color. I’m really sorry about everything. I wanted to visit you, but—” Voleta brushed a tear from her cheek—“I didn’t know what I’d say, and—”

  “You were hurt that I’d betrayed you too?” Mikaela fought the urge to confront her treachery, but she needed Voleta to make incriminating statements.

  Voleta nodded. “It hit me so hard. Can I come in?”

  Mikaela purposely hesitated and then stepped aside for Voleta to walk in. They sat on the sofa, the same spots where they’d always talked about life and watched movies.

  Voleta shifted as though uncomfortable. “I didn’t really expect you home this soon. Are you better?”

  “A lot of things are still a blur, but I think I can manage with a counselor and meds.”

  “I’m here for you. You can trust me with anything.” Voleta shook her head. “I never had any idea you were anything but a librarian. You must be real smart.”

  You’re the smart one. Mikaela took in a deep breath. “I lied to people.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Best friends are there for each other.” Voleta had become a new animal, a cross between a rat and a snake.

  “You’re sweet. But I don’t want you to lose customers because of me. In fact, if anyone sees you’re here, they might cancel their appointment.”

  Voleta’s eyes widened. “Then I don’t need them.”

  How long did Voleta plan to continue the charade? “Yes, you do. Bills, remember?”

  Her friend swiped at another tear. “You mean more to me than money. So what are you going to do?”

  Bingo. “I’m taking the next couple of days to figure that out.”

  “Let’s go to Pradmore for dinner. My treat. I’m sure the food at Magnolia Life Center was horrible.”

  “I’d rather cook.” You’re not dumping my body along some back road. “Had enough, Voleta? Why are you really here?” Mikaela reached for her weapon tucked into the back of her jeans, but Voleta was faster and pulled a Glock from her purse.

  “Your choice.”

  Showdown. “I hope Keary paid you well.”

  “Pays my bills. With your left hand remove that gun from your jeans.”

  Mikaela obeyed and studied the woman who wore the red badge of betrayal. “What you’re doing will only get you killed or the rest of your life in jail.”

  Voleta slipped Mikaela’s gun into her purse. “The eternal optimist. I’m way ahead of you.” Her cell phone rang, and she answered it. “I got her. Sure, I’ll pass on the news.”

  “What news?”

  “He wants you to know that he has Nathan, and in a few moments they’ll be heading out of the country.”

  Mikaela tried to fight the trembling. She had to think fast. Whether Keary had nabbed Nathan or not, she had to delay any plans. “Please tell him not to forget Nathan’s inhaler. He has severe asthma.” She banked her lie on the hope that Keary didn’t have Nathan’s medical records.

  Voleta tossed a disbelieving stare before she called Keary back and relayed the message.

  Mikaela played the part of the distraught mother and took the phone when Voleta handed it to her. “Daniel, he must have his inhaler!”

  “He looks fine to me.”

  “Can I talk to him?” If Nathan was with Keary, no doubt he’d be upset.

  “I don’t think so. You lost, Mikaela. One more time.” The call disconnected.

  Voleta peered at Mikaela as though examining her soul, which was a whole lot cleaner than Voleta’s charred heart. “If you’re stalling, it won’t do any good.”

  “My son’s health is what’s important.”

  “His father is quite capable of taking care of him. At least he didn’t knowingly desert his own son in the toilet bowl of Africa.”

  Chapter 55

  “Sir, the helicopter is ready,” Stevens says.

  With the sound of the whirling blades in my ears, I grab my briefcase and climb into the chopper with Stevens and two of my men. We have plenty of weaponry to take care of the operatives and Rosa and Gonsalvo. Two more men are on the ground en route to the CIA safe house north of Dallas. By now Mikaela is dead. No traces of Daniel K
eary or Jason Stevens will have been left behind, only the new identities . . . along with my son. Soon all that I’ve ever wanted will be with me, and we’ll have a wonderful life together. I can continue to make plenty of money from southern France without U.S. restrictions—even expand my businesses. Politics no longer holds my interest.

  A moment of regret touches me when I think of Sheila. But her family will be a strong support for her. She’ll do fine. Although the initial flurry of love or lust—whatever attracted me to her besides money and ambition—has long since vanished, I still want her to find happiness. She loves the little Korean kid. He’ll help her through this.

  Mikaela’s plea for Nathan’s inhaler demonstrated she’s lost her skills as an op. France has plenty of doctors, and once we land, I’ll take Nathan to the finest one in Paris. Rather pathetic for a woman who once held a promising future. All of her efforts in trying to prove me guilty are about to fade into oblivion.

  In a little over two hours I’ll have my son. The company’s jet is fueled up and ready for me at DFW.

  Chapter 56

  “Do you honestly think you’ll get away with this?” Mikaela shook her head. “Real clever. You did a good job. You were behind all of it—working for Keary as his yes-girl.”

  Voleta laughed. “And you thought you were a good op. Had you fooled.”

  “Do you know who shot Walt?”

  “I did.”

  Miss Pepto-Bismol has your confession recorded. “Why? He’s a sixteen-year-old kid.”

  “Ty Dalton needed to learn who was in control.”

  “You shot Walt to show Ty that his son or wife could be next?”

  “Smart girl. It worked, too. He tried to break it off with me, and I wasn’t finished with him yet. I have Dalton right where I need him—in jail. He should never have told me what he saw in Angola. Spineless redneck. But I will give him credit for setting Miles’s barn on fire.”