by Liz Johnson
“Ms. Thorn, are you okay?” asked the policewoman, who had questioned her in the lobby. The voice sounded near the entrance to the bathroom, and the door groaned as she likely leaned on it.
“Fine. I just need a few moments, please,” Kenzie whispered, barely able to hold her emotions in check long enough to respond coherently.
The door creaked closed and Kenzie slid to the floor. Images from another bathroom scene flashed before her eyes. The disgusting sink. The brown cockroach. Myles holding her to his chest. Their lips pressed together. The pure euphoria of being so protected, cared for so well.
Eyes and throat burning, she hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth on the hard tile. She tried to pray again, but her mind was numb, shut down and overwhelmed with the grief of Myles’s betrayal. The minutes sped by before she could finally form a coherent thought. That’s when she knew that she really just needed to see Mac, to be held in his arms.
Pushing off from the cold floor and walking out of the stall was easier than she thought it would be. So was washing her face in the sink and walking back into the lobby. With the image of Mac’s face in her mind’s eye, she moved forward with purpose.
And then she didn’t have to imagine him anymore. His strong face, tender with concern, was before her. His sturdy arms wrapped around her. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, only to look into the loving face of Nana. Every gray hair in place, but bottom lip quivering slightly, she put her cool hand on Kenzie’s other cheek.
“Honey? Is it really you?”
“I missed you both so much.” Kenzie sighed into the cocoon of Mac’s arms.
But even though it was the truth, something in the pit of her stomach clenched.
“Nate, I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I want you to say that you’re keeping an eye on her. I want you to say that you’re not giving up on this assignment.”
“Fine. I’m not giving up on this assignment. Kenzie Thorn is.”
“Borden.” The steel in Nate Andersen’s voice rose to the surface. Myles had learned long before not to cross his direct supervisor, the special agent in charge of the Portland office. Nate was a man of impeccable morals, tough as nails and smarter than any other man Myles had met in the Bureau. That was why he had been promoted so quickly through the ranks, being in charge of the Portland office when he was just over thirty years old. “Tell me what happened with Thorn. Why didn’t you bring her to the safe house in the first place?”
“I told you when I called in days ago. It got complicated.”
“Complicated,” Andersen said. He meant unacceptable.
Myles shot his hand through his hair and grumbled under his breath. “There was the mountain lion attack. And then she was so set on going with me that I was afraid that she’d blow the whole thing if I left her alone. As long as she was with me, I figured I had it under control.”
Andersen cleared his throat. “Is she with you now?”
“No.” Although Nate could not see him through the phone line, Myles hung his head in appropriate shame. He continued staring at his feet as he walked back and forth on the plush carpet of the hotel room. His current living situation was a far cry from the cabin, the Evergreen Motel and the Jewel. In fact, it was nicer than his apartment in Portland. But it was a temporary fix. A place for him to clear his mind and figure out his next move.
Which was why he’d called his supervisor in the first place. But the guilt over losing Kenzie’s confidence and her heart killed his will to continue. He would rather sit on the floor at the foot of the king-size bed and think about wild auburn hair and stormy-gray eyes than think about the futility of trying to get back into her good graces.
“Myles! Snap out of it!” Nate’s voice ripped him from his wandering thoughts. “It’s my job to see you succeed on this assignment. I believe that you can do that. And I’m going to help you.”
“What are you thinking?”
“We need to get proof. We need a wire tap on Mac’s personal and business phones. But we need some evidence against him before we can even get that.”
Myles frowned. “What about the budget numbers? If we can get the budget sheet from Kenzie’s desk at the prison, then I think I know what judge will give us a warrant to tap Mac’s phones.”
Myles could almost hear Nate’s smile, which matched his own. “Claudia Suarez,” they said at the same time.
“Can you lend me a hand with getting the budget from Kenzie’s desk?” Myles asked.
“As a matter of fact, I can. The prison was looking to replace Kenzie fast. They were interviewing teachers two days after her kidnapping. As usual, I was on top of it and got a new agent set up in the position. She already has the budget in hand, given to her by Ryker on the first day of work. I’m going to fax over the warrant to request paperwork right now along with the budget. Get it filled out and ready to submit first thing in the morning.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and Myles?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Figure out what you’re going to do about your feelings for Kenzie. Then do it.”
“Feelings?” He should have known he could not hide his affection for Kenzie, especially from Nate.
“I’m not stupid. Just make up your mind and do it. The same way you went after law school and Quantico.”
“I will.”
“Good man.”
“But I doubt Kenzie will be at the governor’s mansion. They’ll want to keep her out of the spotlight for a while.”
“Then it’s a good thing you work for the FBI,” Andersen said, not hiding his sarcasm. “I’ll make a call in the morning and get back to you.”
“Thank you.”
“Get some sleep, Borden. You’re going to need it to nail the governor.”
Myles hung up the phone and began pacing again. He loved being right, and he was about to get the proof that he needed that Mac was crooked, that he was the man behind the entire plot to kidnap and kill Kenzie. He knew that proving he was right would not return him to Kenzie’s good graces. Likely it would only drive the wedge between them even deeper. But even if the truth hurt her, destroyed their relationship, at least it would keep her safe. She would be safe. Curled up on a fluffy couch, her hair spilled over the white fabric. Tucked beneath a green-and-gray quilt. Sleeping soundly. Safely.
As Myles sank to the floor and rested his face in his palms, his thoughts consumed him. He cared more that the truth would keep Kenzie safe than that it meant successfully completing his assignment. He cared more about Kenzie’s feelings of loss than he did about his own personal victory.
This had all started out as a job. A simple undercover assignment. The same as any other. Get in. Get the job done right. Get out. For years that routine had given him a purpose. He felt that God had called him to serve in this way. But he’d never let another assignment reach him so deeply. He’d kept them all at arm’s length, believing that he needed the emotional distance to do his duty.
So why did he now feel like he could never do his job again—without his most recent assignment close by his side?
He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but with her wild, red hair and spitfire attitude to match, Kenzie had snuck into his heart. She consumed his waking thoughts, and without her, his life felt a little emptier. The way it had felt right after his mom’s parents had died—only worse than then. And he’d only known Kenzie for a couple weeks.
Oh, he was definitely in over his head.
God, he prayed silently, his head resting in the palms of his hands, I’m in love with this woman. I can’t imagine my life without her. But even if our relationship never recovers, even if it’s not Your plan for us to be together, please protect her. Protect her heart from the ache that is coming, from the pain that is about to land in her lap.
But if it might be possible, please help her to see that I’m doing what I have to do to see that the truth comes to light. Please help her to s
ee how much I care for her, how much I want to be with her, how much I want to protect her and keep her safe. Just let her love me the way that I love her.
And there they were, all of his feelings freely admitted to God and to himself. He left them in God’s hands. Left God to figure out how He would work everything out. It wasn’t his to worry about anymore. He knew these things in his heart, deep in his gut. But even as he filled out the paperwork that came through the fax machine, his mind worried about what would happen, what would come of his feelings for Kenzie Thorn.
Late that night, when he finally crawled into the big, soft bed, he dreamed dreams of red hair and gray eyes and soft pink lips. And even in his dreams he feared that he had lost his chance to be with the woman he loved.
SIXTEEN
Kenzie snuggled deeper into the enormous sectional that took up almost the entire family room in her childhood home. Tucked beneath one of Nana’s handmade quilts and sipping Nana’s famous hot cocoa, she felt almost normal. Henry, Nana’s little bichon, jumped into her lap and reached up to lick her cheek with his rough tongue. She slid her hands along the silk of his fur and nuzzled his neck.
“I’ve missed you, buddy,” she whispered for his ears alone. He cocked his head to one side and let out a quiet ruff. Oh, how she had missed everything that Henry represented. When Mac won his first term as governor, Nana refused to even take Henry to visit the governor’s mansion.
“Henry and I will stay here, thank you,” she had said in a tone that brooked no argument, even from the new governor. “We are not giving up the only home that Kenzie can remember. So we’ll keep both houses.” And they had. They kept this house, the one Kenzie moved into after her parents’ deaths, and Henry stayed with Nana. They threw the required events and parties at Mahonia Hall, the official governor’s residence, but Henry always stayed at this home on the outskirts of the city. Where Henry lived was Nana’s home. And Mac stayed as close to Nana as he could, too, especially since he was diagnosed with his heart condition.
Now Henry circled her lap twice, then settled down, resting his little head against her knee. The pink tip of his tongue licked his lips as he let out a soft sigh.
She scratched him behind his ears and he perked up for a moment, looking around the room, but finally settling in completely. His warm little body felt normal. It was all so normal. Almost like the last eight days had been a dream.
The bedroom she grew up in was still the same, with pink walls and a fuchsia bedspread. The closet still held some of her clothes left over from her irregular trips from Evergreen. In it she found a comfy pair of women’s jeans and a roomy college sweatshirt. It was blissful to wear clothes that fit like they should, hugging her hips and thighs, not billowing around her like the men’s jeans she wore for almost a week.
Now, after a restful night of sleep in a familiar bed, sitting cross-legged on the couch, wrapped in handmade comfort, snuggling with her favorite four-legged friend and feeling like herself for the first time in over a week, she felt a little lost. She felt oddly disconnected from the old Kenzie. The Kenzie that had never been kidnapped. The Kenzie that had never met Myles Borden. The Kenzie that could be comforted by a simple hug from Mac.
The trouble was that her stomach tightened every time she thought about the words that Myles had said about Mac. Of course they could not be completely true. But what if there was a shred of truth to them? What if he was partly right? What if Mac wasn’t as blameless as she wanted him to be?
In the middle of begging God for wisdom about the entire situation, Kenzie was startled when Nana entered the family room and sat right next to her. Her eyes looked heavy, pained, and the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth looked more pronounced than usual. Nana pulled Kenzie’s hand from Henry’s soft curls and into both of her hands. Her cool fingers gently stroked the back of Kenzie’s.
“I wanted to talk to you while Mac is at the store this morning,” Nana began.
“What’s going on?”
Nana looked at their intertwined hands as though deep in thought. She attempted to look into Kenzie’s eyes, but only made it to the tip of her nose before shifting her gaze back to their hands. “Did—that man—the one who kidnapped you—”
Kenzie had been quite certain that they would want to know everything about her time with Myles. She just had no idea how to explain it. Honesty always being the best policy seemed the likely route. With a few minor omissions. Like that kiss that she and Myles shared in the disgusting hotel bathroom. And the one the day before her birthday. And that look that always appeared in his eyes when he cupped her cheek with his calloused hand. And the way he made her heart beat three times faster than normal just by squeezing her hand.
She would leave those things out to spare Nana’s poor heart. And her own embarrassment.
Of course, Mac and Nana both knew what she had told the police officers the day before. Clinging to Mac’s hand, she had calmly explained how she had clubbed her abductor, Myles Parsons, over the head with a fire extinguisher and been able to escape from the Salem hotel room where he held her hostage. She had never seen any indication of which hotel she had been staying in. But likely Myles would already be on his way to Canada.
At least that’s how she explained the ordeal to the kind policewoman squatting by her side.
Nana cleared her throat softly, now looking at the plush carpet, one of her hands cupping Henry’s head. “What I mean to say—did that man hurt you, in any way? You can be completely honest with me.”
Kenzie squeezed her hand into her grandmother’s. “No. He didn’t hurt me at all.”
Unless you count breaking my heart.
“You can tell me. Anything.”
How tempting to let it all pour from her mouth. The things she was certain of, like JB’s part in her abduction, Myles’s integrity and how she cared more for Myles than any man she had ever met.
Instead she bit her tongue. JB Ryker was a family friend. And Nana was not prepared to hear about how Kenzie had fallen for her kidnapper.
“Nana, I’m fine. Myles Parsons never hurt me. In fact, he saved me from a mountain lion.”
“A mountain lion in Salem?”
Kenzie coughed. “It was before we got to Salem. Near Evergreen. He risked his life to save me.”
“But why would he kidnap you, take you from us and save your life, but never ask for ransom? It doesn’t make any sense.” Now she looked into Kenzie’s eyes, the confusion evident on her face.
“He rarely did.”
“What do you mean?”
Kenzie was the one to drop her gaze this time. “I just mean that he was a bit of an enigma. He took good care of me, but he insisted that I could not return to you or the prison.”
“Well, then, he and your grandfather have at least one thing in common. Mac has downright refused to let you go back to that place.”
Kenzie’s heart rate picked up, and her stomach knotted. The proof that they—she, she had to remember that she was alone now—needed about the budget was in her desk at work. She had to get back there.
“But I have—I left some things in my desk. I need to get them.”
“Oh, the prison already sent over your lesson plan book and everything else from your desk. JB sent it as soon as the new teacher was hired. Didn’t you see the box in your room?”
“A new teacher was hired? So soon?”
“You know that the other state prisons are counting on Evergreen’s second year of successful program completion. They had to keep getting those boys through the exam preparations or it would have toppled the entire program.”
“Yes, but a replacement? Why didn’t they just hire a substitute? Or have someone from the Department of Corrections fill in?”
“You know how the red tape is with security. I guess they decided it would be easier to just hire someone new. On top of that, no one expected that you’d want to return. You don’t, do you?”
Kenzie stood quickly—sending Henry jumping to t
he ground with a yip and circling her ankles—and set her mug of cocoa on a coaster on the end table. “Of course I do.” Taking a steadying breath, she said, “Excuse me, please.” Forcing her feet to make smooth, even strides toward her bedroom, she attempted her exit.
Just before she rounded the corner into the hallway, Nana called out, “Sweetie, we’re expecting someone from the phone company today. If the doorbell rings and I’m in the back garden, please let him in and show him the phone in the kitchen and the one in your grandfather’s study.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Within seconds Kenzie knelt beside a box of files sitting at the foot of her bed. She blamed her ignorance of the presence of this box the night before on exhaustion. Tearing through each file, she hunted for the prison budget she had been given. Tucked safely into a folder next to her student files, just where she had placed it almost a year before, was the budget information, stamped CONFIDENTIAL.
The measly annual budget numbers glared back up at her. She knew who needed this information. And she knew how to contact him.
Inside the pocket of the jeans she had thrown on the floor the night before lay a scrap of paper with a phone number on it. She dug into the pocket until her fingers grasped the little slip. In blocky handwriting, Myles had written her a note.
For anything you need 24/7—555-9347.
Could she do it? Could she call him after storming away from him the way she had? He needed this information. Even if he was wrong about Mac, the truth about JB Ryker needed to be known, and this was his proof.
Four digits into dialing the phone number, the doorbell rang. Then immediately again, like the person could not wait for a moment. Henry barked, and she heard him scamper toward the front door.
Deciding Myles could wait for a few seconds, she hopped up and ran to the front door. Two men in service uniforms held ID badges out at her.
“I’m John. This is Teddy,” said the shorter of the two. The larger man did indeed seem to be a teddy-bear sort, round, congenial and silent. “We’re from the phone company. We’ve had several complaints about service in this neighborhood, so we need to check on both of your lines.”
