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Harlequin Intrigue June 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: To Honor and To ProtectCorneredUntraceable

Page 3

by Debra


  He still felt guilty and selfish when he thought of those endless days with no contact beyond hospital staff and the occasional visit from a chaplain or army officials. He should have been full of gratitude, but instead he’d battled a terrible sense of loss and isolation no matter how they praised him for surviving.

  “I heard your father died while you were a prisoner.”

  “Yes.” His superiors had explained valid reasons for not publicizing his return to anyone, not even family. “They showed me the obituary, told me he was buried next to my mom.”

  “No one from your past knows you’re alive. There’s no reason to keep your survival a secret now.”

  “There’s no reason to throw a parade, either,” Drew countered. “A few people from my old neighborhood recognized me when I came back.”

  “I’m sure they were happy to see you.”

  “Pretty much.” Almost a year later, he was okay with his neighbors, too. With his father dead, the only other person Drew had wanted to see was the bride he’d left waiting at the altar. She was the final piece of his recovery, and everyone who’d had a hand in it knew he needed to reach out to her. Too bad no one had warned him what he’d find.

  Despite the years, having heard about his wedding plans from his father, the neighbors were eager to meet the woman they’d only seen in wedding announcement photos. When he’d felt strong enough, he’d gone looking for her and returned alone. After about six months his neighbors stopped asking about her.

  “Took a while to get past all the sympathy,” Drew said. It was all the explanation he felt Thomas needed on his personal life.

  “That’s reasonable.”

  It sure hadn’t felt that way at the time, but it was done now and he had carved out a new place for himself. He might spend his nights alone, but based on the persistent nightmares, that was for the best.

  The back of his neck prickling, Drew wanted to shift the topic back to Thomas’s invasion of his new life, but again he waited quietly for the director to make the move.

  “Addison Collins.” Thomas tossed out the name, like a bomb in the middle of his desk, and leaned back to watch Drew’s reaction.

  His body went cold at the sound of her name. Suddenly he wanted to talk about the POW camp. The injuries. The nightmares. The dirt cell and lousy food. Anything but her.

  “Have you had any contact with your fiancée lately?”

  “Former fiancée,” Drew corrected. “And no.” He didn’t even let himself think of her. Not after he’d seen her playing freeze tag with another man and a little boy in San Francisco last fall. He’d been close enough to see the smile on her face, to hear her carefree, happy laughter. Close enough to see the ring on her finger sporting a diamond easily twice the size of the one he’d given her years ago. She’d been so obviously settled and content with her family that he’d walked away rather than ruin her day and twist up her life.

  “Why do you ask?” He ignored the calculating gleam in Thomas’s quick smile. Drew could no more hold back that question than stop the next sunrise. With a nearly audible snap, a piece clicked into place. “She’s the tipster.”

  “Yes. And she’s gone missing.”

  “So ask her husband.” Drew’s throat went dry and his palms went damp. Addi was fine. Had to be fine. He couldn’t accept anything else where she was concerned.

  “Well...” Thomas hesitated. “You haven’t seen any of the news coverage on this?”

  Drew shook his head. Knowing his emotional limits, he didn’t do any more than scan the local headlines, and sometimes that was more bad news than he could handle.

  “Craig Everett.” Thomas opened a file and showed him a picture of the man who’d been with Addi in the park. “He and Ms. Collins planned to marry at the end of the summer, but he’s also gone missing.”

  Planned? “She’s not married?” Had he missed an important chance to be with her? It was hard to think about that. He’d been so sure about what he’d seen. Maybe she’d been married and divorced before Everett came along.

  “No marriage on record,” Thomas confirmed. “What we do know is that she turned over damning evidence and abruptly left town. She hasn’t been seen anywhere in just over two weeks.”

  It didn’t make sense. Drew thought of the little boy, wondering if the kid belonged to Addison or Everett.

  “The evidence Addison provided against Everett is excellent, but I think she knows more.”

  “If the evidence is so great, why do you need more?”

  Thomas sighed. “Because I was informed last night that Everett escaped during a transfer between facilities.”

  Drew swore, unable to sit still any longer. He shifted in the chair, pushed a hand through his hair. “How’d you let that happen?”

  “I didn’t.” The director’s voice went cold. “Reviewing everything we have, I’ve concluded Everett’s connections are too good. I believe Addison can confirm my suspicions and help me plug what must be a leak on the government side.”

  Better and better, Drew thought, but he couldn’t get the image of Addison, scared and on the run, out of his mind. “What did Everett do?”

  “Based on this initial evidence, he’s used his contacts among import-export businesses to start a sideline brokering deals for controlled software and hard intel on human assets in sensitive areas. We’re not yet sure if it started as his idea or—”

  “She had nothing to do with that.”

  “You sound sure.”

  “I am.” No matter how she’d moved on with her life, Addison wasn’t a traitor. He could only imagine how angry she’d been to discover the secrets this Everett guy had been hiding.

  “For the record, I agree with you.”

  No surprise. Thomas would’ve done all the background research on everyone involved in what must be a fiasco from the government side. It wouldn’t take much legwork to look at Addison’s background and find her first near-miss marriage. He clenched his fist. Her fiancé would’ve heard all about her past without the hassle of gathering intel. “Why am I here?”

  “As I said, she’s gone missing, and I think you’re just the man to find her.”

  Would his past never stay buried? “I don’t know anything about her anymore.”

  “Which is precisely the kind of advantage I’m looking for. No one on my team has found a trace of her since her BMW wound up in a used car lot in Arizona.”

  Just because she’d been south and east of San Francisco didn’t mean she’d keep going that direction. “That leaves a lot of territory to cover. What about Everett?”

  Thomas’s expression clouded over. “Also off the radar right now. He could very well be searching for Ms. Collins, too, planning to buy her off or to silence her.”

  Drew understood which option was more likely. Addison had integrity in spades.

  “My hope,” Thomas continued, “is that you can find her first and bring her in. I can protect her.”

  Drew felt a hot lick of panic. This couldn’t be happening. “What do you expect me to do? What do I tell her?” He’d seen the fallen hero obituary in the scrapbook his father had created. He’d read the few letters Addison had written to his dad in the months following their interrupted wedding and his capture. “She thinks I’m dead.”

  “I understand this is overwhelming,” Thomas said. “We have resources here. Why don’t you consider yourself a consultant? Give me a direction, some idea where she might be hiding, and help guide the team I send out to find her.”

  If Drew’s gut instinct was right and Addison was heading to her home turf, Thomas’s team wouldn’t stand a chance. The woman he’d known, the woman he’d planned to marry, had always been ferociously independent and smart as a whip. If she was on the run and didn’t want to be found, there was only one place she’d go. And if anyone cornered her there, she’d strike first and ask for identification later.

  “No.” Resigned, Drew accepted his fate. He couldn’t leave this to anyone else. Whether or n
ot he was thrilled by the idea of seeing her again, he figured he was the only one with a chance of convincing her to come out of hiding. “I’ll find her.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had since they dumped this on my desk,” Thomas admitted.

  “I’ll need gear.”

  “We have the best.”

  “I’ll need cash for a car and cell phone in addition to the travel expenses.”

  Thomas pursed his lips. “Done.”

  “I’ll find Addison, but I can’t promise to bring her in.” He cut off Thomas’s automatic protest. “We both know she won’t be safe until Everett and that leak are contained. She knows that, too. I’ll monitor the news and do my best, but don’t count on a quick resolution where she’s concerned.”

  “Agreed.” Thomas pressed a button on his phone. “My assistant will show you downstairs. Take whatever you need to get the job done.”

  “Yes, sir.” If he thought about timelines and proximity, he’d lose it. Reminding himself life was a day-to-day effort, he focused on the first step: gearing up.

  The T-shirt, warm-up pants and sneakers weren’t going to hold up to what amounted to a manhunt through some difficult terrain.

  Drew turned in his seat when the door opened and stood up as the receptionist returned. If he was right, if he still knew the woman at all, he’d soon be face-to-face with Addison. Surreal was a vast understatement. He couldn’t decide if he should be terrified or ecstatic at the prospect. He supposed her reaction would help him decide.

  Chapter Three

  Thomas pushed his chair away from his desk and stood, restless and uncertain about what he’d just set in motion.

  Not so long ago he’d been given a second chance and reunited with the only woman he’d ever loved. His personal success should give him hope for Drew and Addison, but he couldn’t quite drum up that elusive emotion for this situation. Sending Drew to track down Addison could backfire. Not just for the two of them—three if he counted the little boy—but for the integrity of the operational mess he’d inherited.

  It seemed more and more challenging lately to think of his Specialists as assets. They were all capable and strong people who, at the end of the day, were here as tools to be applied to specific purposes and operations. It was a particular trial when the people he assigned, like Drew, weren’t even part of his elite program.

  Time to hand over the reins. He stared through his big office window, blind to the stunning view. A knock sounded at his door. “Come in,” he called without turning.

  “I saw Bryant leave,” Deputy Director Emmett Holt said. “Did he agree to help?”

  Thomas loosened his tie as he returned to his desk chair. There was no need to stand on formality with Holt, who understood all too well what was riding on this operation.

  “He agreed.”

  “But?” Holt sank into one of the visitors’ chairs opposite Thomas. “You look like you’ve eaten bad fish.”

  “I feel a bit like that, to tell the truth. This could backfire. In a big way.”

  “Were there other options?”

  Thomas drummed his fingers on the supple leather arm of his chair. “No.” The whole reason they’d brought Drew into this was because Addison had disappeared. Completely. “But it’s a lot to ask.”

  “He’ll manage.”

  Thomas met Holt’s sharp gaze. “I meant her. Addison’s running for her life, for her son’s life, and we’re sending out a ghost to find her. She has no idea what happened—only that he never made it to their wedding.”

  “Then I stand corrected.”

  Thomas arched an eyebrow. “He won’t manage?”

  “No. She will manage.”

  It sounded like a magic-wand theory to Thomas’s ears, and that was one theory everyone in his line of work always rejected. “He’s not a trained Specialist.”

  “Oh, so that’s the problem.”

  Thomas didn’t like the half smile on Holt’s face. “Explain.”

  “You feel guilty for sending an unqualified civilian after a high-value asset.”

  “That’s not true.” Where the hell was this coming from? He and Holt had different management styles, but this series of irritating questions wasn’t typical. “Bryant might be a civilian now, but he could step in and train our recruits on anything at a moment’s notice.”

  “So he’s qualified.”

  “More than.”

  “Then I guess you’re feeling guilty because we didn’t have an equally qualified Specialist available?”

  They both knew the roster and they both took great pride in the skills of the men and women on their team. “Why the hell are you being so difficult?”

  “Because you need to ease up on yourself,” Holt said, his expression somber. “The woman and her kid are missing, Everett escaped with some damned sophisticated help and you just sent out the best option for everyone involved.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Thomas wasn’t sure how else to interpret that tidy speech.

  “If that’s what you need, you’re welcome.” Holt leaned forward. “We talked about it, looked at every asset before you brought Bryant in. He is the only choice for this mission.”

  Thomas knew that was correct. Even logical.

  “Personally,” Holt continued, “I believe he’ll succeed, no matter how she reacts to seeing him again. He’s resourceful. He’ll bring her in or make sure we can.”

  “You’re right,” Thomas allowed, though he knew this decision would haunt him well into his retirement if it went wrong. He rubbed the palm of one hand with the opposite thumb. “I’ve never once forgotten that our Specialists are people. We demand more than we should—”

  “But never more than we’re willing to give ourselves,” Holt finished for him. “That philosophy—your philosophy—is at the heart of our entire program. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  “All right.” Thomas raised his hands, palms out. There had been a time, not too long ago, when Thomas had doubted his philosophy and much more. He’d doubted Holt’s loyalty to the Specialists and the nation at large. Been certain he’d made the wrong call naming Holt as the next director.

  No longer. Holt had proved himself in the field and protected the Mission Recovery office during a complicated attack from one of Thomas’s old enemies. Not only that, he’d recently become family by marrying Thomas’s sister. “Thanks for the pep talk,” he said, the burden feeling a bit lighter. “It’s the kid,” he added, finally articulating the real issue. He and Jo wanted to start a family soon, and although his wife was as independent and resourceful as Addison, Thomas knew how far he’d go if someone took aim at his wife or their children.

  “I figured,” Holt said with a sympathetic nod.

  “Cecelia is expecting you and Jo to join the family for July Fourth weekend.”

  “We’re looking forward to it,” Thomas said, more relieved than he should be about the change of topic. “Jo is making noise about getting a boat of our own when I retire.”

  “Want me to keep an eye out for you?”

  “A casual eye.” He recognized Holt’s method of shifting the topic to something more normal. “But I don’t want her to know I’m looking yet.”

  “Lucky for you, I can keep a secret,” Holt said, heading for the doorway.

  “I’m well aware.” Thomas smiled as Holt walked out, the guilt of Addison and Drew’s situation muted. For now.

  He’d needed the reminder that Holt provided. If Drew had given the first sign that he’d cave under the pressure of the request, Thomas would’ve found another way to track down Addison.

  As it was, he was back to hoping the reunion, although certain to be awkward and emotional, would result in capturing the traitorous Everett and the root of his network so Addison and her son could return to life without fear of retribution.

  Chapter Four

  Louisiana bayou

  Saturday, July 5, 7:35 p.m.

  In the fading light of another warm summe
r day, Addison came outside with two bowls of ice cream. Sitting next to Andy on the top step of the porch, she handed him one.

  “We had ice cream last night.”

  “It’s summer,” Addison said with a smile. “And you’ve played hard all day. Besides, it won’t keep forever.” Her friend Nico, father of Bernadette, her best childhood friend, had given her permission to stay here in his mother’s old place. He’d brought them out by boat and had delivered more supplies yesterday. Although she appreciated what the weather-worn shack provided, she didn’t trust the ancient freezer on the back porch.

  Andy didn’t waste time arguing over the bonus treat and he dug in with enthusiasm.

  As dark crept in from the edges of the swamp, the insects ramped up with an evening chorus that rose and fell with the soft breeze. In the tall marsh grass across the water, fireflies took flight. “Look.” She pointed toward the soft twinkling.

  “Can I catch some? Nico told me kids here use them as night-lights.”

  “Not tonight.” She was tired and wary despite being as alone as a person could be out here. Other than Nico’s, she hadn’t even heard another boat in the area for days, yet she felt edgy as if they were being watched. They’d been here for two weeks, and according to the news, Craig continued to evade authorities as the story of his illegal dealings came out in dribs and drabs. “I did that a few times when I was your age,” she said to her son. “Even once during a campout right here.”

  “Really?” His eyes were wide.

  “Mmm-hmm. Mama Leonie, Nico’s mom, lived out here more than in town. Nico’s daughter was my best friend and we used to come here every chance we got. There was only one room then.”

  “No bedroom?”

  Addison shook her head. “She didn’t want one.”

  “Where did she sleep?”

  “Outside on the back porch.” Addison looked around once more, picturing it as it had been. “I always thought it was the best tree house.”

  “But it’s not in the tree. I think we should call it a swamp fort.” Andy twisted around and then leaned forward to peer through the slatted porch to the water below. “I like this part hanging over the water.”

 

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