by Robin Perini
“Dad could convince someone in North Dakota to buy ice in the winter,” Laurel said, shaking her head. “He always thought he knew the best for everyone else.”
“He believed I’d take too many risks. He was right.” Garrett had to face the truth. “I’m sorry, Laurel. So sorry. If I’d come back, maybe I could have forced the traitor’s hand.”
She scrubbed her hands over her face and stepped out of his embrace. “This doesn’t make sense. Ivy knew about you and your case. She said you were right. You have to know something.”
“I discovered there was a mole in the organization, but I never figured out who.”
“Maybe Ivy did.” Laurel’s expression turned eager. She plopped into the computer chair and scrolled down her sister’s file. Garrett leaned over her shoulder. She’d taken his identity in stride. The more time he spent with James’s daughter, the more Garrett recognized the similarities. Smart, tenacious, optimistic. Traits he admired in his mentor. Qualities he liked in Laurel. A little too much.
He shifted closer, aware of the pulse throbbing at her throat, the slight increase in her breathing. He wanted to squeeze her shoulder, offer her encouragement, but he didn’t want to distract her either. He backed away, forcing himself to focus on the file. Lists of operations, lots of questions, brainstorming. Ivy had been smart, curious and methodical. And her quest had gotten her killed.
As Laurel scrolled, an uneasy tingle settled at the nape of Garrett’s neck. Every operation involved James somehow. Several involved Garrett; some didn’t.
“Slow down,” he said softly, his voice tense.
“Ivy had more questions than answers.” Laurel shot him a sidelong glance then stilled her hand. “What’s wrong?”
That she read him meant he was out of practice. He guarded his expression. “Probably nothing.”
“I can see it in your eyes.” She snapped the words in challenge. “You’ve already lied about your identity, Derek. Don’t lie about anything else. I deserve the truth. So does Ivy. And Molly.”
“I’m Garrett now.” He stiffened, but knew she was right. If something happened to him, she couldn’t be in the dark. She had to be cautious. Around everyone. “James was involved in all the cases Ivy investigated.”
Laurel’s back straightened and her expression hardened. “My father is not a traitor. Who else was involved?”
“I didn’t say he was—”
“You were thinking it. Tell me.”
He couldn’t deny the thought had crossed his mind.
“I was involved,” he said.
“You know, Garrett, sometimes you have to have faith in the people you love. Even when the whole world seems screwed up, there are people who live by honor out there.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “You’re proof of that. My father trusted you with his family when he was in trouble. So have I. My father deserves the same consideration. Unless you really are a traitor.”
Man, Laurel McCallister went right for the jugular with a few well-placed words.
“Then why aren’t you afraid of me? Are you afraid that I might betray you?”
“You would have killed us already. Instead, you saved us. You sacrificed your hideaway. You put yourself at risk. Face it, Garrett, you’re a hero. Just like my dad believed.” Laurel scrolled to the end of the file. “There’s a link here.”
She clicked it. Another password. She tried the same one.
Access denied.
After three more attempts, Laurel shoved back from the keyboard with a frustrated curse. “I’m out of ideas.”
Laurel shook her head, and he could see the fatigue and disappointment on her face. He kneaded her shoulders. “You’re good with that machine. Is there another way to figure out the password? Are you a code breaker?”
“It’s not my area, but...” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Maybe I can do one better.” She chewed on her lip. “I developed a code-breaking computer program with some friends when I was in college.” She winced. “We nearly got kicked out of the computer-science department when our adviser found out. I could run it from here, but it will take a while.”
“As in we’ll be connected to the network for a long time?”
Laurel nodded, and then her eyes brightened. “Unless I download the file.”
At this point, it was worth the risk. “Do it.”
Laurel clicked through options so quickly Garrett’s eyes nearly crossed. “You never hesitate.”
“My dad and Ivy have the gift of thinking on their feet. I do better with zeros and ones.”
“Mommy!” Molly screamed at the top of her lungs. “Daddy!”
The terrorized cries pierced the air. The sound speared Garrett’s heart. He didn’t hesitate, throwing open the door to the living room.
At the same time, Laurel exploded from her chair, racing to her niece.
Molly sat straight on the sofa, her cheeks red, sweat dripping down her face, her eyes screwed up tight.
Laurel sat beside Molly and wrapped the little girl in her arms. “Shh, Molly Magoo. I’ve got you.”
Laurel rocked her back and forth, but Molly refused to open her eyes, shaking her head so hard her hair whipped around, sticking to her tearstained face. She clutched at Laurel.
“Is she still asleep?”
“She’s clinging to you. She knows you’re here.”
Laurel hugged Molly closer. “What do I do? This has never happened before.”
Molly’s sobs gutted Garrett’s heart. Ella hadn’t had a lot of nightmares, but she’d watched part of Jurassic Park at a friend’s house and that evening the night terrors had stalked her. Only one thing had calmed her.
Molly struggled against Laurel. “You took me away,” she whimpered.
Laurel’s face went pale. The agony in her expression made Garrett hurt for her. “Give her to me,” he said.
Laurel hesitated.
“I know what to do,” he whispered.
Reluctantly, she handed the twisting little girl to Garrett. He sat down in a large overstuffed chair and held Molly close to his chest. “It’s okay, sugar,” he said, making his voice soft and deep and hypnotic. He snagged a blanket and wrapped her like a burrito inside it, one arm tight around her.
He rocked her slowly and started singing in an almost whisper. “The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah. The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurray. The ants go ma-ar-ching one by one, the last one stops to look at the sun, and they all go marching down, in the ground, to get out of the rain.”
The melodic, low tone of the song echoed in the room. He rubbed her back in circles. Her sobs quieted a bit.
Garrett sang the second verse, all the while rocking her, rubbing her back, holding her close.
Molly’s cries turned to hiccups and finally softened. His chest eased a bit. Just like Ella. He looked up. Laurel’s face had turned soft and gentle, and awed.
She hitched her hip on the arm of the chair and fingered Molly’s locks. The little girl’s eyes blinked. She opened her baby blues, looking up at Garrett, then at Laurel.
“Mommy?” she asked. “Daddy?”
“They aren’t here, sugar,” Garrett said. “But your aunt Laurel is. She won’t let anything happen to you. Neither will I.”
Molly bit down on her lip. “There was a ’splosion. Daddy’s car burned like in the fireplace.”
A tear trickled down Laurel’s face. “Yes, honey, it did.”
“Are Mommy and Daddy coming back?” she asked, her voice small, fearful.
Laurel glanced at Garrett. He warred with what to do, what to say. He simply nodded. It was time.
He tightened his hold on Molly. Laurel cleared her throat. “Honey, they aren’t coming back, but they’re watching over you. They’re in heaven.”
Tears welled in Molly’s eyes. “Even Matthew and Michaela?”
“Even them, sweetie.” Laurel handed her Mr. Houdini. Molly hugged the lion close.
Tears rolled down her fa
ce. “I want them back.”
Laurel sank closer to Garrett. He shifted and she nestled next to him. Her arm wrapped around Molly, her cheek resting on the little girl’s head. “So do I, Molly Magoo. So do I.”
Molly clutched her stuffed animal. She didn’t scream, as if the pain was too much for that. She laid her head on Garrett’s chest. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
“Sing to me,” she pleaded. “My heart hurts.”
“The ants go marching...” Garrett fought against the emotions closing his throat. Memories too horrible and too deep slammed into him. Nights lying in the hospital bed after he’d awakened, reaching out his hand for Lisa’s or for Ella’s and no one had been there.
Just anonymous nurse after nurse—or no one at all.
Laurel leaned against him, her shoulders silently shaking. He knew she was crying. She buried her face in his neck.
Garrett held on to them, the children’s tune now a mere murmur. Soon Molly went still in his arms.
He fell silent.
Sunlight streamed into the window, but he could tell from the angle it was low in the sky. Late afternoon.
He looked over at Laurel. Her eyes were red. “It breaks my heart,” she whispered.
His own emotions raw and on the surface, he gave a quiet nod. “I should put her in bed. She’ll wake up at some point, but she needs the rest.”
Laurel shifted away from him and he rose, taking the precious bundle into his bedroom. He pulled off her shoes and tucked her under the covers. He kissed her forehead. “Sweet dreams, sugar.”
His arms felt empty. His throat tightened as the past overtook him. His own little girl, afraid. His Ella hadn’t known a nightmare would come. Neither had Molly.
He turned and Laurel stood in the doorway watching him, her face ravaged with grief. His own festered just beneath the surface. Part of him wanted to escape the claustrophobia of his bedroom, to run to the top of a mountain and shout his fury. Instead, he walked toward her and she backed up. He stepped into the living room and closed the door softly behind him. The latch clicked.
She said nothing, and he didn’t know what to say. Molly’s tears had torn away the defensive emotional wall he’d worked so diligently to build over the past eighteen months.
She simply walked into his arms, and he could do nothing but enfold her, cling to her and struggle to contain the dam of feelings that threatened to break free.
Laurel stood there silently for several minutes. Her warmth seeped through his shirt. How long since he’d just let himself be this close to someone?
Much too long.
“Thank you,” she said. She eased back and touched his cheek with her hand, her whispering caress soft and tender.
“You handled her well. She’ll cry more. It won’t be over today, but she’ll make it. So will you.”
He kissed her forehead and she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight. He knew she just needed someone to cling to, but he couldn’t ignore the slight pickup of his heartbeat. She was too vulnerable. And so was he. Laurel and Molly’s presence reminded him of a pain he’d barely endured. Now somehow he had to find the strength to help them survive.
A small whimpering filtered from his bedroom.
“Go to her.” Garrett stepped away. “She needs family.”
Laurel gripped his hand and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man, Garrett Galloway.” She disappeared behind the door and he heard her softly speaking to Molly.
Once he was certain the little girl was calm, he grabbed his Beretta from atop the refrigerator, where he’d stashed it, and strode onto the porch. The sun had turned red as it set on the western side of the ranch. The face of the mountain had turned light red and purple. Garrett sucked in a deep breath of mountain air. He exhaled, shuddering, and gripped the wooden rail until his knuckles whitened.
He blinked quickly, shoving back the overwhelming emotions that threatened to escape.
Molly and Laurel could rip what was left of his heart to shreds. When he’d come to and realized Lisa and Ella had paid the ultimate price for his job, only the need for revenge had kept him alive those first few months during therapy. He’d buried the grief deep in a hole where his heart had once resided.
Garrett scrubbed his face with his hands. Molly had reminded him of what it was like to protect someone who was truly innocent. And Laurel. God, that woman made him want what he couldn’t have. He couldn’t even let himself think about her that way. Not until whoever had killed his family—and hers—was no longer a threat.
A rustle in the trees made Garrett still. He focused on the movement. For several seconds he watched. Another slight shift of the pine needles, a scrape. Not the wind.
Someone, or something, was out there.
He gripped his weapon and moved behind the stone pillar at the corner of the house. If a weapon had a bead on him, he needed cover.
Once he decided to move, he’d have only a split second.
A shadow shifted in the fading sunlight. Two eyes peered at him from between the pines.
Garrett stepped off the porch. “So, you’re back.”
Chapter Seven
Laurel snuggled Molly next to her. The little girl twisted the flannel of her Christmas nightgown. It had been a present from Ivy when she’d realized Molly wouldn’t be able to attend the pageant that fateful night.
When Laurel had followed Molly into the cabin’s bedroom, her niece had pulled her mother’s gift from the duffel and silently handed it to Laurel.
“You can wear my T-shirt, Molly Magoo,” Laurel had said, barely able to speak.
“Mommy said Santa would know where to find me if I wore my special nightgown. He’d know I was being a good girl even if I couldn’t be an angel.” Molly had looked up at her. “Santa can find me here, can’t he?”
“Of course he can. He knows you’ve been a very good girl this year.”
Laurel stroked Molly’s hair. “I’ll have to find Christmas for you, Molly,” she said under her breath. “Somehow.”
The little girl hugged her lion close, her face buried in its mane. Her breathing slowed, growing even. She sighed and tucked her tiny hand under her cheek. Laurel held her breath, but Molly simply snuggled down under the covers.
Hopefully sleep would bring peace. For a while.
Minutes ticked by. Laurel’s heart ached with an emptiness she’d never imagined. She wanted Ivy to walk through the door, tell her it was all a mistake. Tell her this had all been a bad dream, a setup. One of their father’s elaborate plans.
A small part of her still hoped that were true, but she knew it wasn’t. She’d heard her father’s voice on the phone. This had nothing to do with the intelligence game he played. Every moment was real.
Her father was probably dead as well.
She and Molly were alone.
Laurel dug her fingernails into her palm, savoring the bite of pain. She wasn’t dreaming—even though she was in the midst of her own nightmare.
Her niece’s blond hair fell over her forehead. At least Laurel had Molly. The little girl gave Laurel a reason to not curl up in a ball and disappear. She’d never imagined her heart could feel so empty. That loneliness could suffocate her as if she were drowning.
Garrett had lost his wife and daughter. Laurel couldn’t imagine the agony he’d gone through. How had he survived? Alone, with his entire past erased, how had this not destroyed him?
Laurel glanced at the door. She could stay in this room for the evening. Every muscle in her body ached with exhaustion and fatigue. Each time she blinked, grit scraped her eyes, but for the first time in days, she felt safe. At least for the next twenty-four hours.
She should sleep, but Garrett was out there. Alone.
Her father had told her Derek Bradley was a traitor, but the more she recalled the conversations, the more she recognized the inconsistencies. Her father was an excellent liar, no doubt, but he’d been cagey about Bradley. He’d set up the doubts, so she would be a
ble to trust him.
“Derek took too many risks,” James McCallister had said last Thanksgiving. “He paid the price. So did his family. Traitors always get what’s coming to them. Eventually.”
Her father had never called Derek Bradley a traitor.
Something from around Laurel’s heart eased, and she realized that somewhere deep inside she’d still had doubts. They were gone now. Besides, her image of a man who would sell out his country for money didn’t mesh with the man who could sing Molly into calmness from hysteria.
As she’d said to Garrett, at some point you had to let faith lead you. Careful not to jostle Molly, Laurel rose from the bed and padded across the room. The little girl didn’t stir. Laurel pressed her hand against the door and slowly turned the knob. She opened it and eased out of the bedroom.
The living room was empty.
She peeked into his workroom, but he wasn’t there. The encryption program still ran.
Finally she looked out the front window. He stood on the porch, his back to her, staring out at the sunset. His entire body screamed tension. As if he wanted to be left alone.
Laurel hesitated. She could return to the bedroom for the night, plant herself in front of the computer and wait, hoping the program would find the password, or she could go to Garrett. Except she knew what would happen the moment she touched him. They were both vulnerable. They both needed something only the other could provide.
She opened the front door. The cold gust of wind made her shiver. The last rays of light disappeared behind a mountain and deep purplish-blue painted the sky, rimmed at the horizon with a splash of pink and red. “Garrett?”
He didn’t turn around. She glanced down. He held his gun at the ready. She froze.
“In the trees,” he said softly.
She followed his gaze. Two piercing blue eyes peered at them, intent and calm.
The cougar.
“He’s back,” Laurel whispered.
“Cats are curious, but cautious. He won’t come closer.”
