by Jenna Kernan
“Working on that now.”
She finished stroking Jet’s head and the canine moved off to explore around the cabin. Erin hoped the porcupine she’d seen last night was now sleeping in a tree somewhere.
Lulu barked from inside. Erin let her out and Carr in.
“Can I fix you some coffee?”
He nodded.
She didn’t ask if he’d like a beer, knowing he always turned her down.
“We are working to shut down the cell that came after you. Early indications are that they did not pass on any information about you or Dalton.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“If we can ascertain that no other cell of the terrorist organization is aware of your involvement, it would mean you could return to your family.”
It took only a moment for the coffee to brew. She used the time to force down the lump in her throat. To be able to return to her life would be wonderful, but one member of her family was absent. She missed Dalton so much her body ached from the sorrow. Erin forced her shoulders back and she passed Carr a mug of black coffee.
“Erin?” he asked, his face showing concern as he accepted the mug.
“That’s good news.” She managed the words, but her voice quavered. “How are my parents?”
“Missing you. But fine.”
“My sister?”
“Said to tell you that the middle one lost a front tooth.”
Erin smiled. “That’s Patrick. I hope he didn’t knock it out.” He was in second grade, and all his classmates had that same gap-toothed smile and whistling disability.
She never asked about Dalton out of a mixture of sorrow and fear. They would tell her if and when he was killed. Wouldn’t they?
The panic that they wouldn’t forced her to tip heavily against the kitchen counter. Summoning her courage, she fixed her gaze on Carr.
“What’s the word on Dalton? Is he still with the New York City Real Time Crime Center?”
The mug in Carr’s hand paused at his lip and he regarded her a moment in silence. Then he lowered the mug to the counter.
“What was that?”
“I’m asking if he’s back with his unit?”
“Erin, we told Dalton that joint relocation was dangerous because Dalton is so...” He extended his arms, indicating Dalton’s unusual size. Carr’s hand then went up to indicate Dalton’s above-average height. “So...distinctive. You both agreed to separate locations.”
“I’m confused,” she said. “Dalton turned down relocation.”
Carr arched a single brow that told her instantly that she had something wrong.
“Yes. I was aware he told you that,” said Carr.
“Turned it down,” she said, trying to convince Carr as the panic constricted her throat. “He told me that he couldn’t change and that he would miss the action, the danger. He told me...” She made a fist and scrubbed it across her forehead. “He said...” She lifted her gaze to Carr. “He relocated?”
“He was. He just didn’t tell you.”
Her knees went out and she sank down along the lower cabinets, stopping only when her backside hit the floor.
“He lied to me.”
Carr was beside her in an instant, squatting before her. “You signed the papers agreeing to separate locations.”
She glared up at him. “Clearly, I didn’t read the fine print.”
“That was unwise.”
She rested her forehead on her folded forearms supported by her knees. She spoke to her lap. “I would never have agreed...”
And that was why Dalton had not told her.
“Exactly,” said Carr his expression showing regret.
She concentrated on breathing through her nose until the dark moth-like spots flapped away from her vision. Then she lifted her head.
“Why tell me now?” she asked.
“It seemed wrong to me. And you are unhappy.”
“I want to see him.”
“Marshalls service will tell you that is impossible.”
“Really?” she said. “Then I’m taking out an ad in the Seattle Times.”
“That will get you killed.”
“Want to stop me? Take me to Dalton.”
“I can’t do that.”
She was up and snatching the keys from the bowl beside the door. Jet trotted after her. Lulu came at a waddle.
Outside she opened the truck door and Jet jumped in. Lulu needed a boost. She was behind the wheel when Carr reached her, on the phone, talking fast to someone and then to her. “Where are you going, Erin?”
“Yonkers.”
He stood in the open door, keeping her from closing it.
“I could arrest you as a threat to national security.”
“You told me what happened. Now you can take me to Dalton.”
“He did this to protect you. If you leave WITSEC, his sacrifice is for nothing.”
“The heck with that. I only agreed to this arrangement because he lied to me.”
“Which is why he did this.”
“I’ll sue.”
“You can’t sue us.”
Erin turned the key in the ignition. Carr reached in and flicked the engine back off.
“You knew what I’d do when I found out.”
Carr shrugged. “Surmised.”
He was playing her. Why did he want her to break cover?
“Why?” she asked.
“He’s unhappy, too. Seems poor payment for your service.”
“Take me to him,” she whispered.
“All right,” said Carr.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dalton returned from his monthlong job on an offshore oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico on calm waters. The transport vessel slowed to dock in Mobile, Alabama. The replacement crew was behind them, and he and his new coworker were off for four glorious weeks. The gulf was the color of the Caribbean Sea today as they reached shallow water, and the sky was a pale summer blue. Though fall had taken firm hold up north, here the summer stretched long and warm.
He let the young ones hurry off the vessel first—those with girlfriends and new wives who still cared enough to greet them upon disembarking. The older men and the single ones had no one waiting and could make their way leisurely to their trucks and Harleys to head to wherever they went when not working thirteen-hour shifts. Dalton wondered where Erin was today. Was she looking at a blue sky or gray clouds? Was it raining where she was? Was she safe? Did she miss him?
“See you soon, Carl,” said one of the roustabouts he had come to know.
He touched two fingers to his forehead, tanned from all the outdoor work, and gave a sloppy salute.
His roommate, a motorman from the Florida Panhandle, slapped him on the back as he headed down the gangplank, which led to the receiving area where family sometimes waited.
“Bye, Carl.”
“Safe drive, Randall,” he called after him.
His position as an offshore installation manager was made easier by the real manager who was teaching him the job. Dalton’s own experiences working on so many task forces definitely made the transition easier. And he was used to getting off duty only to be called back up the instant he fell asleep because that part of the job was exactly the same.
But he’d always had Erin to come home to.
He adjusted his duffel bag on his shoulder and exited the gangway over the pier and headed into the arrival facility. His body had healed, leaving only the entrance and exit wound from the bullet that had broken his marriage.
“Wasn’t the bullet. It was you.”
Had Erin’s wound healed?
He crossed the lobby, passing the couples reunited after their offshore stints. He was surprised to see so many children here on a school day, greeting dads.
Nice, he thought.
The bureau had furnished him with a three-year-old red pickup truck and he headed to the lot, hoping it would start after sitting in the blazing sun for a month.
Dalton cleared the lobby of the company’s dockside offices and was hit by the heat and humidity. Without the boat’s motion, the breeze had ceased and he began to sweat. He hurried down the sidewalk toward the lot, anxious to reach the air-conditioning of his truck.
But where was he going? Back to his empty condo? Not likely. He’d have a meal first. One where he could pick what he wanted from a menu. And a beer. He’d missed having a cold one on a hot day.
He caught motion in his peripheral vision, his brain relaying that there was an animal running toward him. He turned to give a knee to any dog stupid enough to jump on him. Dalton dropped his duffel as his hand went automatically to his hip to find no service weapon waiting.
The dog was black, a skinny Lab with a new pink collar. The dog seemed familiar and wagged frantically as Dalton stared in confusion. It whined and bowed and fell to its back kicking all four feet.
That almost looked like...impossible.
This dog could not be that dog. But then, waddling around between a pigmy palm and a hydrangea bush awash in hot-pink blooms, came a fat pug dog.
“Lulu?” he asked. He turned back to the black dog as he dropped to one knee. “Jet?”
Jet’s reply was a sharp bark. Then she threw herself into Dalton’s arms, wriggling and lapping his face with her long, wet tongue.
Dalton scooped up Lulu and stared at her. The dog seemed to smile and panted as if the walk had been taxing. Dalton returned her to the ground and she dropped to one hip as he shot to his feet.
Erin. She had to be here. But that was impossible.
Dalton scanned his surroundings, fixing on the only running vehicle that had dark tinted glass.
He turned to see a woman stepping from the rear seat of a large, dark SUV, the sort you might see in a presidential motorcade. Sunglasses hid her eyes and her hair was shorter, darker and much more stylish. Her mouth lifted in a familiar smile. Was she wearing red lipstick?
“Hey, sailor,” she said.
She slammed the door shut, giving him a view of the flowery, sheer halter top and short cutoff jeans. The pale skin told him that wherever she had been it was cold, for it looked as if she had not seen the sun since he last saw her.
Jet darted back to her and then reeled and dashed back to Dalton. Lulu sat looking at her mistress, content to wait for her to catch up.
From the opposite side of the SUV stepped CIA agent Ryan Carr. “I got a delivery for you,” he said, tipping a thumb toward Erin.
“Where do I sign?” asked Dalton.
“We have an escort in the lot. They’ll take you to your new location.”
“Where?”
“New Mexico. Tourist town outside Sedona.”
Erin lowered her glasses and studied him, taking a moment, it seemed, to absorb the changes. If he’d known he would have cut his hair, shaved his face. He rasped his knuckles over the stubble that was well on its way to becoming a beard.
He blinked at her, trying to understand and then taking two steps in her direction before the truth struck him.
They were blown.
Dalton turned to Carr.
“When?” he asked as he strode toward Erin. He needed her back in the car. Out of sight. What was the agent doing letting her be seen out here?
“When, what?”
“We’re blown,” he said.
Carr shook his head. “You’re not. Just a change of plans.”
Erin reached him now, slipped her arms around his middle and pressed herself to him. He gathered her up in his arms and lowered his head, inhaling the familiar scent as he took in the changes. She was thinner.
He drew back to look at her, seeing the puckering red scar at the juncture of her shoulder and neck. A shot through the muscle that had torn into a major blood vessel and nearly taken her life.
Erin flipped her sunglasses up to her head and stared up at him. The look was not longing or desperate unrequited love. It seemed more like a smoldering fury that he had seen too many times in their marriage.
She lowered her chin. “You said you wanted a separation.”
“I said that.”
“You never told me the reason. So what is it, exactly?”
He pressed his mouth shut, not wanting to spoil this. To see her again, it was too sweet, and even having her mad was having her.
“Dalton?” Her arms slipped from his waist and folded before her. One slim sandaled foot began tapping the hot sidewalk.
“They said you’d be safer away from me. That I stand out.”
She threw up her hands. Then she slugged him in the chest. He absorbed the blow. He knew from experience that she had a better right than that. This was just a mark of displeasure.
“You were protecting me?”
He nodded.
“You still love me?”
He nodded again.
“Then get in the car.” She motioned to the SUV.
“Yes, dear.” Dalton slipped into the rear seat. Erin retrieved Lulu, who had collapsed to her side, and then snapped her fingers for Jet, who bounded onto the rear seat and sprawled across Dalton’s lap.
Then Erin climbed in and closed the door, ordering the dogs off the seat.
In the front area Carr was already buckling into the driver’s seat and put them in Reverse.
Erin touched a button on the armrest and the privacy window lifted. Once it had closed completely, she tossed aside her glasses and grasped his face between her two small hands. Then she gave him the sort of kiss that had his eyes closing to absorb the perfection of the contact.
When she drew back, they sat side by side, breathless, hearts racing. She curled her hands around one of his arms and lowered her head to his shoulder.
“I missed you every minute. I can’t believe you’d do this without telling me.”
“Would you have gone?”
She shook her head. “I love you, Dalton. And marrying you was my way of letting you know that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He closed his eyes as he wondered if being apart, safe and miserable was preferable to accepting the increased risk and being with his wife. Then he decided it was not.
“I was wrong,” he said. “I know it. I knew it almost immediately after I left you, but it was too late.”
“Apparently not.”
“How did you get them to come for me?”
“Threatened to walk away, tell the papers all about it.”
He sat back, stunned. “You can’t do that. You signed an agreement.”
She shrugged.
“You threatened the CIA?”
Erin’s cheeks turned pink. “I did.”
“They make people disappear for that.”
“We’re small fish. Best to just let us go.”
“I’m glad you did,” he admitted. “So glad. I’ve been miserable without you, Erin. You’re more than a piece of me—you’re my heart.”
She hugged him. “Oh, Dalton.”
They drove in silence behind the escort car and trailed by another, winding through the streets and toward the highway.
“Where are they taking us now?” he asked.
“Airport first. And then, who cares? As long as we are together.”
He gathered her up in his arms, dragging her to his lap for another kiss. She was right again. It didn’t matter where they went. It mattered only that she had never stopped loving him and that he had her back in his arms once more.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Personal Protection by Julie Miller.
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Personal Protection
by Julie Miller
Prologue
May 1—Lukinburg Day in St. Feodor, on the steps of the historic palace square
“In three months, St. Feodor will play host to a group of dignitaries from our sister city in the United States. We will introduce the Americans to the charm of our country and show them that they need us as much as we need them. They need our rugged mountains, our beautiful beaches, our vast supply of natural resources, the skills and grace of our people.”
Cameras flashed in the crowd, and the low white noise of television and radio commentators from across Europe and the United States, speaking a dozen different languages, buzzed in the background beneath static from the old broadcasting system. The world was waiting for tiny, mountainous Lukinburg in Eastern Europe to blossom after decades of oppression to take its rightful place on the world stage once more.
