by Helen Brenna
“What does that mean?”
“It means Paul Kensington was so disgusted with the lack of progress on this assignment that he was about to shut you, Matthews and Stein down.”
“That’s bullshit! I’ve been filing weekly reports since this whole thing started.” With the Bureau’s attention turning away from drug trafficking and toward counter-terrorism since 9/11, the fact that things had fallen through the cracks on this case didn’t surprise Jonas. That could mean only one thing.
“It looks like this thing is dead. Kensington wants you to come in.”
“No.” Jonas squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make sense of this. “Either Stein or Kensington, maybe both, are dirty.”
“It’s not Kensington. He’s got too much to lose. Word is he might be up for director in a couple of years. Stein, on the other hand, just went through a nasty divorce.”
Reynolds was only confirming what Jonas knew in his gut. “I’m not letting this go. I’ve got enough evidence here to bust this operation wide-open.”
Reynolds said nothing.
“Don’t you get it? Someone was using me and Matthews to gather evidence. Now they’re going to sell it to Delgado.”
“That’s possible,” Reynolds said, but there was something else. The concern in his voice was unmistakable.
“What’s going on, Louis? What else did you find?”
“A half a million dollars wired into an offshore account. In your name.”
“Son of a bitch.” Jonas ran his hand through his hair. Most likely they were trying to discredit Jonas in order to buy some time. Why? What if Delgado’s deal was still on? But where? When? “If this was my baby why would I call you? They’re setting me up.”
“That was my guess, too, but Kensington isn’t convinced.”
“You already briefed Kensington?”
“I had to, Jonas. This is too big. Turns out he already had his eye on Stein.”
Jonas had had enough of sitting around picking lint out of his belly button. Time to put this to bed. “I’m going after Stein.”
“No, Jonas. That’s an order from above. You are to remain where you are. Stay put. Let us work it out from this end.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You don’t have a choice. If you’re going to do anything at all, send in the evidence you’ve accumulated these past two years on this drug cartel. Prove to everyone you’re clean.”
Jonas mulled that possibility over. It would take Reynolds some time to put all this evidence together for the appropriate warrants, but this was the only hope Jonas had of busting Delgado. And Stein. “All right. I’ll overnight my files to you. Louis, be very careful.”
The moment Jonas hung up the phone he copied every piece of data from his memory stick onto another one. Then he went to the village and mailed off all his files to Reynolds with a prayer that sacrificing the past four years of his life hadn’t been for nothing.
He went outside, breathed in a lungful of fresh air, trying to clear his thoughts. It wasn’t enough. Needing to be amidst people, even if they were strangers, he walked through town and ended up in front of the marina watching a charter boat returning. Excited tourists hopped onto the dock and posed for pictures with their catches of salmon and lake trout. They were joking around and generally enjoying their vacations.
Some guys had all the luck. He spun away from them and walked farther down Main. The sound of laughter and the smell of homemade fudge permeated the air as Reynolds’s words echoed in his mind.
Your undercover op with Stein is not entirely legit.
He’d been living a damned lie in more ways than one and had given up on Missy all those years ago for no good reason. What was a man supposed to believe in?
He ran his hands over his face and caught his reflection in the front windows of Duffy’s Pub. He’d lost everything he’d ever valued for this job and where had it gotten him? And where the hell did he go from here?
The old-fashioned red, white and blue pole outside the barbershop on the side street caught his eye. Immediately, he headed toward it. He could start by putting himself right again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MISSY GLANCED UP AS TWO WOMEN came into her shop. The older one looked familiar—
Her adoption agent. “Barbara!” Missy skirted around the counter. “This is a surprise. I thought you were supposed to call me and I would come to Duluth. What in the world brings you to Mirabelle?”
“Missy, I know this is quite out of the ordinary,” Barbara said, looking more than a little sheepish. “I apologize for not giving you notice, but this is the way Jessica wanted to meet you. Out of the blue. In your element, if you will.”
Tell her. Tell her the truth about Jonas right now. There’s no point in drawing this out.
The explanation formed in Missy’s brain, but the words wouldn’t come. As she glanced into the eyes of the clearly pregnant woman who’d come in with Barbara all thoughts of the truth flew her mind. An instant connection seemed to form between her and both the young woman and her unborn baby. This was meant to be. Missy could feel it as sure as she could feel her own heart beat.
“Missy, this is Jessica. Jessica this is Missy Charms.”
“Hi,” Jessica said.
“Hello, Jessica. Welcome to Mirabelle.” Missy ached inside at the uncertainty she saw in those blue eyes. Nothing less than fate had brought her to Missy, but why? It didn’t make sense. This adoption was bound to fall apart as soon as she told Barbara the truth about Jonas.
“So this is your gift shop, huh?” Jessica glanced around.
“This is Whimsy. Walk around, if you want.”
Jessica took her time checking out one aisle after another. Missy gauged she couldn’t be older than sixteen. With waist-length, straight brown hair and a loose-fitting peasant-type blouse, she looked like a throwback to the 1960s. Only the tiny gemstone piercing her nostril and the tattoo on her neck indicated she was a twenty-first century teen.
Barbara leaned toward Missy and whispered, “Normally, I wouldn’t accommodate Jessica’s request to visit unannounced, but she was insistent. I knew you’d do whatever it might take. Was I wrong?”
“No, you were right,” Missy whispered back. “Jessica has every right to be careful. And I will do whatever it takes.” She hadn’t yet copped to Jonas’s existence, had she? Even now, the lie weighed heavily on her mind.
“She’s asked about your financial situation.” Barbara continued to whisper. “But all we’ve told her is that you own your own home and business.”
“I appreciate that,” Missy said.
Jessica poked her head out from the end of an aisle. “What’s fair trade?”
Missy explained that the profits from the merchandise she purchased went directly into the hands of the makers of the goods, rather than through intermediary wholesalers. “Cutting out the middleman helps a lot of mothers in poorer countries.”
“Tight.” She studied Missy.
Missy held her searching gaze. It was all she could do not to reach out and place her hand on Jessica’s bulging stomach. How amazing it must be to feel a baby growing inside, to feel her come to life, kicking, or hiccupping. Though she understood Jessica’s decision, she imagined there were a few conflicting emotions going on inside the young woman.
Suddenly, back from her lunch break, Gaia burst into the shop. “Hey, Missy! Brought you back some pasta.”
“Thank you.” Missy took the take-out container. “Gaia, this is Jessica and Barbara.”
Gaia’s eyes widened. She’d worked for Missy long enough to recognize the name of her adoption representative.
“Hi.” Jessica studied Gaia, took in her dreadlocks and the tiny hoops, but exactly what she was thinking wasn’t immediately apparent. “Do you work for Missy?”
“My third summer.” Gaia nodded.
“So you like working here?” Barbara asked.
“Like?” Gaia chuckled. “Missy’s the best boss ever. I’m not
sure I want to move on after college.”
“Gaia, there’s no need to embellish,” Missy said, feeling uncomfortable.
“Well, it’s true.”
Suddenly embarrassed, Missy asked, “Would you like to go somewhere we can talk, get something to eat?”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Barbara said.
“I’ve got the store covered,” Gaia announced with a smile.
Missy nervously stepped out onto the sidewalk. “There’s a café by the marina that has wonderful salads.”
“Can we see your house first?” Jessica asked.
Missy’s heart felt as though it’d skipped a beat. If Jonas was in her home, this meeting would fall apart in seconds. She glanced at Barbara hoping the woman would give her an out, but the older woman only shrugged. There was no way out.
“Sure. Let’s go.” Missy led the way up the hill, saying one prayer after another.
“You didn’t grow up here, right?” Jessica asked as they walked.
“I was raised out east. Long Island.” By the time they’d reached her stone fence, she’d answered several more simple informational type questions. “Here we are.”
Jessica glanced up and smiled. “This is your house? It’s so pretty.”
“Thanks.” Missy was rather partial to it, as well. She unlocked the front door and breathed a sigh of relief that Jonas didn’t appear to be around. Clutter was everywhere, as usual, but at least the place was relatively clean. “I’m sorry things are kind of cluttered.”
She picked up a stack of mail on the counter and put it on top of her desk by the phone. Grabbed a couple of dishes and put them in the sink.
“Don’t, Missy,” Jessica said. “This doesn’t look any messier than my own bedroom. You have a home. Not just a house.” She walked around, taking in pictures and photos, the titles of books in her bookshelf.
“This is about it. My bedroom’s in back.”
Jessica went toward the hall. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
Barbara patted her shoulder. “You’re doing great.”
“Can I go upstairs?” Jessica asked.
“Um…it’s…” Missy hesitated.
“Well, maybe it’s time to get something to eat,” Barbara said, coming to Missy’s rescue. “We can visit better if we’re sitting at a table.”
Jessica looked around as if she wasn’t yet ready to go, as if she might be trying to imagine how a baby might fit into the mix. Where would the highchair go? The crib? The toys? Would a baby living in this home be loved and cherished?
Yes, Missy’s heart whispered. Oh, yes. “You ready, Jessica?” she asked, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by emotion.
“I think so.” She turned and smiled at Missy. “Please call me Jessie.”
A SHORT WHILE LATER , Missy waved goodbye to Barbara and Jessie as their ferry left Mirabelle’s pier and motored smoothly toward Bayfield. The moment she lost sight of them, she dropped her hand and a sense of near desperation ran through her. Instead of finding resolutions, her life seemed to be getting more and more complicated.
She turned away from the pier and took off down Main, passing Duffy’s. She’d missed happy hour this week for the first time in months, but she didn’t yet have the courage to face Sarah. As she glanced up the block, her gaze immediately locked on a clean-cut man coming out of the barbershop. He was too far away to get a good glimpse of his face, but there was something familiar about his purposeful walk. The way he held his head, so straight and proud, his shoulders, broad and strong. The way his gaze seemed to pick up everything while pretending to notice nothing.
My God, it’s Jonas.
He’d not only had his long hair buzzed off, he’d gotten every single whisker shaved off his cheeks and chin. As she moved closer Missy lost her breath. Those lips. Without the stubble on his cheeks, the lush fullness of his mouth became immediately apparent. Aside from the graying at his temples that was now visible with the shorter cut, this looked like the Jonas she’d fallen in love with. The Jonas who had broken her heart.
He noticed her immediately, and his eyes narrowed. “Missy.”
“You shaved. Cut your hair. You look…”
“The way you remember me?” She would’ve expected for him to express some form of triumph, especially after the way she’d melted in his arms the other night, but the tone of his voice was as unreadable as ever. “I’ve always detested that long hair and beard,” he explained. “Besides, my cover was blown.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off his face. “What are you doing downtown?”
“I called Reynolds. I needed to get out of your house.”
“And?”
“It’s getting messy. Now I’m being framed.”
That didn’t sound good, and while part of her wanted to dig into the details she wouldn’t let herself get drawn in to his life. There was only one part of this new development that impacted her. “So you still can’t leave Mirabelle?”
“Not yet.” His gaze, holding a hint of regret, lingered on her face for a moment, and for a moment Missy spotted the old Jonas hidden deep under this man’s protective layers. This man standing before her didn’t merely look like the old Jonas. The old Jonas was truly there, under his skin.
God help her, but she wanted to touch his smooth face, urge that old Jonas to resurface. We could start over. You and me. Adopt Jessie’s baby and build a family, a life, here on Mirabelle. Maybe this time it would work.
And maybe this time her heart would not only break, it would shatter into a million pieces. Instinctively, she reached for the crystals around her neck and found instead the Chinese coin pendant Sarah had given her for her last birthday.
She was on her own.
“I WANT YOU TO DO SOMETHING for me,” Delgado said.
Mason closed the door and, cell phone in hand, paced in his office. “What?”
“I have some packages delayed in customs. I have no doubt you could streamline the process.”
“That’s not part of our deal.”
“It is now.”
Now that Abel was causing trouble. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good. I will have someone call you later tonight with the details.”
The moment his cell line went dead, Mason’s office phone rang. The display showed the reception area, and he put the call on speaker. “Yes?”
“Senator Arthur Camden is here to see you.”
What the…? Mason sat at his desk. The chair of the Senate Judiciary Committee wanted to see him. Why? This couldn’t be good. “Tell him I’m out of the office. Tell him I’ll call—”
“He’s already headed—”
Mason’s office door burst open and Senator Camden, dressed impeccably in a black designer suit, heavily starched white shirt and striped blue tie stepped into his office. “We were briefed yesterday on your fiasco in Chicago.”
Mason hung up the phone and came around his desk. “I’m not sure I’d call it a fiasco—”
“What would you call one undercover agent confirmed dead and the other taking bribes?” The senator paced. “A tea party?”
“Sir, I—”
“Have you found Abel?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on it.”
“What makes you think he’s turned?”
“He took all the evidence with him and he hasn’t called in. I’d say the writing is on the wall.”
“Has he left the country?”
“We don’t believe so.”
“I have a personal interest in this case.” Camden walked to the window looking out over Pennsylvania Avenue. “Jonas Abel is married to my daughter.”
Holy shit.
“Melissa is estranged from the family and my wife would very much like to find her.” He spun around and leveled his gaze at Mason. “The very second you locate Special Agent Abel, I want to be informed.”
“Yes, sir.”
The senator stalked out of Mason’s office as quickly a
s he’d come. Mason shut the door and immediately dialed a number on his phone. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“I don’t want to play guessing games with you, Mason.”
“Her last name’s Camden. As in the Long Island Camdens.” Stein transferred the phone to his other ear. “As in Senator Arthur Camden’s daughter.”
“I know.”
“What do you mean, you know?”
“I figured it out when I pulled their marriage certificate to find her maiden name and social. She’s the one who cut off all ties with the family.”
“That explains the name changes, the moves,” Stein said. “Have you tracked her down?”
“Not yet. Without a legitimate warrant, I can’t track any of the financial info. And the usual underground sources got nothing on her. Her attorneys have roadblocks up in every direction. It hasn’t helped that she pretty much zigzagged cross-country and then backtracked. I lost her in Milwaukee, but we’re closing in on her.”
“I’ll see what I can do from my end.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have her nailed down in a day or two.”
A FEW NIGHTS AFTER B ARBARA and Jessie’s surprise visit, Missy lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling and listening to Jonas calling out in his sleep. He’d had restless nights in the two weeks since he’d come to Mirabelle, but tonight was the worst. “No sé. Para!” he called out for the third time, and she debated what to do.
Although she’d been keeping the promise she’d made to herself by trying not to avoid Jonas, it hadn’t been difficult. Jonas had been doing enough avoiding for them both. They’d made dinner together the past couple of nights, but the moment the last dish was washed, Jonas managed to find something to take him outside. While she caught up on a few things around the house, paying bills or balancing her checkbook, Jonas mowed the lawn. She did laundry. He pruned a couple trees. She changed the bed linens and he trimmed the bushes. Tonight, she’d been catching up on some Whimsy business when Jonas started scraping the chipping paint off her exterior window frames.
Not long after dark, she went to bed. A short while afterward, as if he’d been waiting for an all-clear, she’d heard Jonas come inside and head straight upstairs. Presumably, he’d fallen asleep, but he was not resting at all peacefully. A few hours later, she’d awoken to the sounds of him yelling.
