The Honeymoon Assignment

by Cathryn Clare

  But then there were voices.

  Loud voices. Familiar voices.

  “Hey, lovebirds.” Kelley jumped as Wiley’s words cut through the erotic reverie that Sam’s touch had created. “Sorry to drop in on you without warning, but we were in the neighborhood and figured we’d say hi.”

  There were a lot of things Kelley didn’t understand.

  This surprise visit was confusing enough. She’d checked in by phone with Wiley early this morning, as she’d been in the habit of doing since she’d arrived at the Windspray Community. But for him to come pelting down here, bringing his fiancée, Rae-Anne, and his brother Jack, a federal agent—

  Kelley shook her head as she pulled coffee mugs down from the cupboard and carried them to the living room table. Besides the perplexing visit itself, Wiley’s manner, and Jack’s, had been odd. They’d both been hearty, congratulatory, playing along with the honeymooner pose to the hilt.

  “You can knock it off now,” she’d said to Wiley when the five of them had entered the cottage.

  But he’d shaken his dark head at her. And he’d kept the conversation on purely trivial matters while Kelley had made coffee for all of them and Sam had started pulling pertinent files up on the computer.

  And then there was the fact that Jack was searching the cottage, in spite of Sam’s objections that there was nothing to find.

  It was all very strange. And Kelley hated to admit it, even to herself, but she wasn’t feeling up to fielding all the curveballs that were suddenly coming at her.

  Her body was still humming from Sam’s gentle embrace. Every time her gaze met his, she could see such a welter of uncertainty and desire in the blue depths of his eyes that all she could think of was being closer to him again, trying to recapture the sweet moment of solidarity they’d just shared.

  But there was no chance to do it.

  And she couldn’t think what else to do, either, until Jack found whatever it was he was looking for. So she’d made a pot of coffee, because it gave her hands something to do while her mind was busy running in useless circles.

  “Got it,” Jack said at last.

  “Great.” Sam’s voice held all the pent-up frustration Kelley had been feeling herself. “What the hell is it?”

  Jack was holding up a tiny metal dot, no bigger than Kelley’s little fingernail. The wires trailing from it were mere filaments, almost invisible in the overcast midday light.

  “This,” he said, “is a state-of-the-art listening device, courtesy of our very own government. The only other one I’ve seen was an FBI lab prototype.”

  As if he didn’t believe his eyes, Sam switched on the two lamps in the living room, frowning at the object his brother had pried out of one of the electrical outlets next to the bedroom door.

  “I checked this place,” he said slowly, as if challenging Jack to disagree with him.

  “Not your fault, little brother. These little critters are changing the whole ball game as far as bugging is concerned. Hell, I only found it because I knew what to look for, and where to look. As far as we know, nobody outside the bureau has access to this technology yet.” He handed the tiny device to Sam, who held it up to the light and glared at it.

  “Think there’s more?” he asked.

  “I doubt it. These things are unbelievably sensitive. One would have been all he needed.”

  Kelley didn’t like the idea that they’d been overheard. It was bad enough to know that someone had listened in on their discussions about the case, but when she thought about the more private exchanges she and Sam had shared—

  “When you say ‘he,’ are you by any chance talking about Steve Cormier?” she asked Jack.

  “You got it.”

  She took in a deep breath. She’d been starting to feel that she had her bearings in this case, but suddenly everything had changed.

  “Well, if you’re sure there aren’t any more little ears listening in the walls, may I suggest we all sit down and have coffee and share some information with each other?” she said. “Because I, for one, would really like to know just what is going on here.”

  Sam’s grim nod confirmed her words. He took a seat beside her on the sofa, with Jack next to them in a chair. Rae-Anne was sitting across the room, watching the whole scene with bright, interested blue eyes. Wiley had taken up his usual relaxed stance next to his fiancée, one broad shoulder leaning against the wall, his ankles crossed so that the embroidered patterns on his expensive cowboy boots showed under the hem of his jeans.

  Wiley had one hand extended so that his fingertips rested on Rae-Anne’s shoulder, and the sight of it—of any of the Cotter men reaching out so naturally toward a womanstartled Kelley. It was still hard to understand how toughtalking, lone-wolf Wiley Cotter had changed and softened in the past short while.

  She shook her head and reminded herself that it was law enforcement, not love, that they were here to discuss.

  “Maybe you’d like to start by explaining how Steve Cormier happened to have one of the FBI’s brand-new bugs at his disposal,” Sam was saying.

  “He had one,” Jack said, “for the simple reason that he was working for the FBI.”

  “He was what?”

  Kelley could feel Sam wanting to shoot to his feet again, wanting to pace the length of the small room and back. She put a hand on his forearm without planning to, sending him the silent message that they needed to stay focused, because time was short and there were obviously surprises in this case that they hadn’t foreseen.

  “It would have been helpful if we’d known this sooner,” she said to Jack.

  The middle Cotter brother gave her a rueful smile. “It would have been helpful for all of us,” he said. “Unfortunately the bureau didn’t know you two were investigating this place until I happened to hear about it through Wiley.”

  “And I didn’t know the FBI had Windspray under surveillance until Jack put two and two together this morning,” Wiley said. “Once we connected the two cases, we figured we’d better hustle on down here and set you and Sam straight, because it looks as though things are a whole lot more serious than we originally thought.”

  Between Wiley and Jack, the story fell into place. The FBI had been trying to track a West Coast counterfeiting operation back to its roots, and had gotten as far as determining that there was some connection with the Windspray resort on the Gulf coast of Texas. A special agentSteve Cormier—had been assigned to infiltrate the place.

  “When you two showed up, Cormier thought there was something fishy about you,” Jack said. “Apparently he felt you were worth keeping an eye on.” He nodded toward the little bug that lay on the coffee table.

  “So that explains why he kept turning up around our cottage,” Sam said.

  “And why he seemed to have something to hide,” Kelley added. “It explains his photography setup, too.” Photography was one of the investigator’s most valuable tools. “But it doesn’t explain where he’s gone,” she finished.

  Jack’s handsome face grew more serious at that. “No, it doesn’t,” he said. “And our people are pretty worried about it. It’s never good news when an agent goes missing.”

  “Will they send somebody new?” Kelley asked.

  “You’re looking at him.” Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His shirt cuffs were neatly rolled to the elbows, and his dark hair was impeccably cut, as always, but under his handsome exterior Kelley could see how seriously he took this.

  “Obviously there’s a lot at stake here, if somebody’s willing to shanghai a federal agent to keep it secret,” he added. “The bureau wants this wrapped up, and Cormier found, as quickly as possible. But we don’t want to shake things up to the extent that the perpetrator gets spooked and does something reckless.”

  “Like bolting,” Sam suggested.

  “Right. Or killing Cormier, assuming he’s still alive.”

  Kelley felt a cold shiver run through her. She’d managed to accustom herself to the violence t
hat occasionally went with this job, but she’d never learned to like it. Whenever she could, she still preferred to talk rather than fight.

  But this case seemed to be turning into one where the option for negotiating didn’t exist. “So what do we do now?” she asked Jack.

  His level hazel eyes met hers. “You find the bad guys,” he said plainly. “My bosses figure it’s more practical to work with you rather than duplicate what you’re doing. You’ve got a cover story already in place, after all.”

  Sam and Kelley exchanged a glance. “It seems that whoever the counterfeiter is, he or she has already figured out that we’re not just honeymooners,” Sam said. “Somebody tried to take us out of the picture the first night we were here.”

  Jack considered it. “Has anything happened since then?” he asked.

  “No.” Kelley almost laughed as she answered the question. So much had changed between her and Sam that it was getting harder, instead of easier, to keep her mind focused on her job.

  But Jack’s words were clear enough. “Maybe the perpetrator decided the warning had been enough to scare you off,” he said. “I’d say it’s worth keeping up the newlywed pose.”

  The flicker of interest in his hazel eyes made Kelley realize that her hand was still resting lightly on Sam’s arm, and that Sam had reacted to it as though it was something that happened all the time. What did Jack think about that, and about the embrace he’d overseen when he’d arrived at the cottage?

  Whatever he thought, he was keeping it to himself. “The difference now is that you’ll have the backing of the FBI, if you need it,” he told them. “I’ll be your go-between. I’ll need access to whatever you’ve dug up, and you’ll be able to look at the reports Cormier sent in before he disappeared.”

  Kelley glanced at Sam again. She could see him thinking hard, tossing all the alternatives around in that quick mind of his. But her own thoughts were running on a different track.

  The potential danger in this case had just skyrocketed, and the grim look on Sam’s face told her that he realized it, too. At the beginning of the week he’d done his best to lock her out of the case. Would this new development erase all the progress they’d made, all the tentative steps toward the partnership they’d been rediscovering?

  There were a lot of questions demanding her attention right now, but somehow that felt like the most important one. Kelley found herself holding her breath, waiting to see whether Jack’s news would drive all of Sam’s reawakening trust back underground.

  She didn’t get a chance to find out until Sam suggested they all have a look at the financial records he and Kelley had been compiling on their computer. As their three guests moved toward the kitchen, Sam took Kelley’s arm, holding her back.

  “I didn’t know you called Wiley this morning,” he said, his voice low.

  “I’ve been calling him every morning.” She said the words matter-of-factly.

  “Why?”

  “We’ve been through this, Sam. I believe in keeping the channels of communication open when I’m working on a case. You don’t. That’s all.” But it wasn’t all, and she couldn’t resist adding, “If you ask me, it’s a darn good thing I told Wiley about Steve Cormier when I checked in this morning.”

  Sam snorted. “Go ahead,” he told her. “Say ‘I told you so’ if it’ll make you feel better.”

  His snort was earthy, companionable, not angry, as she’d been half expecting. It was an unimaginable relief to realize that he wasn’t cutting her off, after all.

  “I don’t need to say it,” she replied.

  The quick slant of his grin sliced through the serious look on his face. “Good,” he said, “because I don’t need to hear it. But it is a good thing we found out who Cormier really is. And Kelley—”

  His fingers tightened around her arm. She could feel the heat of his skin stirring all those forbidden responses inside her.

  “Let me know what you’re up to from here on in, okay? Things just got a whole lot stickier, and we need to be together on this.”

  He didn’t give her time for more than just a quick nod before sliding his grip down to capture her hand and walk with her into the kitchen.

  Outside, the weather was still blustery and gray. It looked as though it might start raining at any moment. And inside the cottage, all five of the faces gathered around the table were serious and thoughtful as they contemplated the tangled mass of information they were trying to pull apart.

  But none of it felt as turbulent or tangled to Kelley as her own thoughts.

  Sam’s words a moment ago had been so open, so spontaneous. We need to be together on this… That was what she’d wanted when she’d accepted this assignment: Sam’s trust, his acceptance that they were equals and partners again.

  Then why did she suddenly find herself wanting more?

  And why, at the very back of her mind, was there a little voice telling her there was something she hadn’t shared with Sam, something he might need to know?

  She searched her memory for it, but her thoughts were too scattered and too confused. It would come back to her, she told herself. Once all these new facts settled down into some sort of pattern, she would remember what it was that was nagging at her.

  For now, she had her work cut out for her. Anything else—any leftover bits of information, any buried longings, most of all any troublesome thoughts of the old passion and hope that had once gone along with the trust she and Sam had shared—all of that was simply going to have to wait.

  Chapter 10

  “Wiley tells me you and Sam used to be partners.”

  Rae-Anne dropped back to walk beside Kelley as the five of them headed for the Windspray restaurant. It was early afternoon, and Sam and Kelley had decided that lunch at the restaurant and a tour of the resort would be the best way to provide the orientation Jack was looking for.

  Rae-Anne seemed to be looking for something different. The petite red-haired woman sounded casual enough, but Kelley had the feeling that Rae-Anne’s intelligent blue eyes were taking in a lot more than she was letting on.

  “Did Wiley tell you why we stopped being partners?” she asked.

  “He said something about an accident. He didn’t go into a lot of detail.” Rae-Anne paused, glancing over at Kelley. “Looks like nobody wants to go into detail about it,” she added.

  Kelley gave her a faint smile. “It wasn’t a very happy occasion,” she said.

  “So I gathered. The thing is—” Rae-Anne looked at the gravel road ahead of her, where the three Cotter brothers’ long strides had already carried them out of earshot. “The thing is, Wiley gave me the definite impression you and Sam practically had to be roped and tied to get you into the same room together. But it looks to me like you get along pretty well. Is there a part of the story I’m missing somewhere?”

  The weather was continuing to worsen, and Kelley pushed her hands deeper into the pockets of her tan canvas jacket as she tried to figure out how to answer RaeAnne’s question. Before she came up with the right words, Rae-Anne spoke again.

  “If I’m being nosy, you can just tell me so,” she said. “I’ve spent a long time as a bartender, so I kind of expect people to pour out their troubles to me. But if you’d rather not—”

  “No, it’s okay.” It was a surprise to realize that she wanted to share this with someone, after keeping it to herself for so long. And Wiley’s fiancée, with her perceptive eyes and her personal experience with one of the famously difficult Cotter men, suddenly seemed like the ideal confidante.

  “Sam and I were a lot more than just working partners,” she told Rae-Anne. “We were engaged to be married. And we—I was pregnant, when the accident happened.”

  The dismay in Rae-Anne’s pretty face was more vivid than Kelley had been expecting. “You were pregnant,” she echoed. “What happened?”

  “I lost the baby. It was my own fault—I made a stupid error in judgment. If Sam hadn’t stepped in, I probably wouldn’t be alive t
o be telling you this.”

  She took in a deep breath and wondered when she had stopped walking. She and Rae-Anne were facing each other on the gravel road now, frowning as the faint wind-driven rain flicked against their faces.

  “I’m sorry, Kelley.” Rae-Anne sounded more than sorry. She sounded as though she understood. It was amazing how comforting that felt. “I really am.”

  “It’s okay,” Kelley said again. “When Wiley told me about this assignment, I figured it would be a chance to put some of what happened behind me finally. The only thing is—”

  She paused, not sure how to end the sentence. It was both a surprise and a relief when Rae-Anne finished it for her.

  “The thing is, it’s hard to put things behind you when the old feelings refuse to go away,” she said.

  “How did you know that?”

  In Rae-Anne’s quick smile it was easy to see the spirit that had won over Wiley Cotter so completely. “I’ve been there,” she said, and inclined her auburn head at the three lanky men on the road ahead. “It’s not easy, especially with one of those three.”

  “Amen to that.” Kelley’s own smile felt a little shaky.

  “You still love him, don’t you?”

  Rae-Anne’s question hit her out of the blue. Kelley had barely used the word love even to herself, and to hear it put so bluntly—

  “I don’t know,” she hedged. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

  Rae-Anne raised an eyebrow and began to walk again. “I haven’t known Sam very long,” she said, “but I saw the way he was looking at you when Wiley and Jack and I arrived. And if you want my opinion, he’s having some trouble putting his old memories to rest, too.”

  Her words seemed deliberately challenging, and her pace deliberately quicker as she started to catch up with the three brothers. Kelley followed, but more slowly, trying to grasp all the loose ends that were swirling around in her mind as though they were being stirred up by the steady Gulf Coast wind.