A Secret to Die For

by Lisa Harris

  “I remember staring at the TV broadcast,” she said. “Listening to how the bomber lured in the authorities, wanting as many casualties as possible.”

  He nodded. He reached for his grandfather’s watch, then forced himself to dig back to the present when he remembered it wasn’t there.

  “Everything changed that day,” he said.

  She sat quietly across from him, her gaze fixed on his face. “And you can’t stop feeling guilty that you were the one who survived?”

  He shifted his gaze past her to a crack on the wall where the paint had chipped in a spot. It was as if she could read his mind. Her statement had hit its target, just as he assumed she knew it would.

  “Yeah.”

  “In psychology, we call that a critical incident. Something that happens that’s beyond your usual experience and out of your control. You spend every day viewing trauma, letting it numb you, until one day your brain can no longer process what happens.”

  His breathing quickened. “I had to identify her body. And then I had to go to her husband and tell him that she wasn’t coming home that night.”

  He hadn’t known how to tell her husband. He’d promised to take care of her. To keep her safe. But it had been a promise he couldn’t keep. And he’d never forgiven himself.

  “There was a second bomb that was found and disarmed,” Nate said, “but it was already too late. Eighteen people were killed in that blast, including my team. It looked like a war zone, and we still have no idea who was behind it.”

  He hadn’t planned to share with her what his own psychologist had to dig out of him, and yet for some reason Gracie was different. Talking to her came easy. Like she understood not just what he said, but what he didn’t say. And while she was willing to tell him the truth, she did it all without judging or trying to force him into a mold.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be.” He shot her a smile. “I think I know now why people like Stephen came to you.”

  “I think I just needed to hear from you today. Needed to hear from someone who understands loss.”

  He let the silence settle in between them for a moment. In the background, he could hear Macbain and the other agents working, their hushed voices echoing across the room in sporadic waves. The air conditioner clicked on. A siren wailed in the distance.

  He turned back to Gracie. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Since you lost Hannah, have you ever felt like you’re going crazy?”

  She pulled on the pillow tassel, keeping his gaze. “Honestly? More often than I admit.”

  “Because I can’t sleep. I’m always irritated. Can’t concentrate. It makes me wonder if I should be back on the job, but if I leave my job or get terminated, then what am I supposed to do? This job . . . it’s all I know, Gracie. And I’m not sure I’m ever going to get back to normal.”

  “Can I switch and talk like a psychologist?”

  He smiled, then nodded.

  “How you’re feeling doesn’t mean it will be this intense forever, but you have to find a way to take care of yourself while you heal.” She caught his gaze. “I know how PTSD feels, Nate. And I see it in you.”

  He sat silent, knowing she was right.

  “It leaves you feeling that there aren’t any safe places left,” she continued. “You realize you have no control over anything that’s going on around you. You lose what kept you grounded. Kept you together. It changes you.”

  “So you understand the guilt?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

  “For months, I couldn’t stop asking the same questions. What if I’d realized sooner that she was sick? If we’d tried more aggressive treatments. If I’d prayed more, or read my Bible more.”

  “I feel guilty for not protecting Ashley and the others,” he said. “For not dying that day. And now . . . for not protecting you.”

  “Nate . . .”

  “If I hadn’t let you go to the bank with me, if I’d insisted you went into protective custody from the very beginning . . . none of this would have happened.”

  “You don’t know that. Neither of us really know what might have happened. They would have found another way to get what they wanted.”

  “Maybe, but I almost lost you.”

  “But you didn’t. You can’t stop everything bad from happening to those you care about. And when something bad does happen, you can’t always make things right again.”

  He studied her eyes that were rimmed with tears. She knew how hard it was for him to be vulnerable. For him to open up.

  “I know. The feeling that you’ve done something wrong by being one of the survivors. That I shouldn’t feel guilty because I lived and she didn’t. That I just need to find a way to put it behind me and move on.”

  “I think you’re wrong.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “No one’s asking you to ignore what happened. To just put behind you.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry. I really am babbling on like a shrink, but I know what it’s like to lose someone. To feel out of control when fate throws a wrench in your life and it all comes tumbling down like a house of cards.”

  “Like losing Hannah,” he said.

  “Yeah. Like losing Hannah.”

  26

  Gracie felt her breath catch. Losing Hannah had changed her completely. That moment in time when everything she’d known and loved and expected out of life had shattered to the point that it had threatened to destroy her. There were no easy answers to grief and loss. No simple solution she’d discovered in all her years of studying. Answers that had always seemed perfect—answers she’d spouted off to clients—now seemed like a mess of clichés.

  She searched for words to express the darkest journey she’d ever taken.

  “When I lost Hannah,” she said, “my entire life fell apart. I questioned God, agonized over the guilt, and felt completely powerless.”

  “How do you deal with it?” Nate leaned forward. “Ashley was my friend and my partner. I knew and cared about many of those who died that day, but you . . . you lost your daughter. And then Kevin on top of that. And yet there’s this strength about you that doesn’t make sense.”

  “How do any of us deal with loss and disappointment in life? We try to take one day at a time, doing everything we can to get through the next hour or minute. I know that Hannah would have told me to smile, and I want to make Hannah proud. I want to live joyfully for the time I have left in life. Every day I try to find a way to hang on and make progress.”

  A phone rang on the other side of the room, reminding her for a moment where they were. Trying to find a way to stop not the death of just one child. Or the attack on just one location. But something that would change their way of life forever.

  “You might not have lost a child,” she said, focusing back on Nate, “but every day you’re forced to show up at a crime scene and deal with the aftermath of something terrible. It doesn’t matter who it is. A mother, a child, a criminal . . . you have to push aside your emotions and process the scene. And in order to cope, you have to numb your emotions so you can deal with it. But that numbness isn’t enough to prepare you for the death of a partner, and everything else you experienced that day.” She paused. “How close were you to Ashley?”

  “She was like a sister. Her family invited me to their Fourth of July barbeque and Thanksgiving dinner, and I hung out with her brother watching the Super Bowl. It doesn’t always work out that way with partners. You trust them with your life, though, which changes relationships. Watching her die that day along with others . . . All I know is that part of me died that day. And part of me wished I really had died. I still don’t know how to get rid of that.”

  “Survivor’s guilt is real, Nate. Do you know how many times I begged God to take me and not Hannah? It didn’t make sense. She had her entire life ahead of her. She deserved to live. Or at least that was what I thought. But for whatever reason, God chose not to save her.
At least not in a physical sense.” She’d tried to work through her own understanding of healing over the past few years, and while she knew that she’d never completely understand it, she’d come to some measure of peace with Hannah’s “eternal healing.”

  She touched his knee. “But maybe that’s it. Who we are is made up partly of our experiences. You won’t ever be the same again. You’ll never be able to erase that part of your life. Both the experiences of having Ashley in your life and the grief that day brought. It makes you human, Nate. Just be patient with yourself. Give yourself the time you need to heal.”

  He reached out and laced their fingers together. “I feel guilty even comparing my loss to yours, but thank you.”

  “I haven’t done anything. I’m still in the middle of the journey myself, which is why I’ll never claim to have all the answers. But I do know what it’s like to lose someone. Sometimes that’s enough.”

  He pulled his hand away from hers and leaned back on the couch. “What about God?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You said you found a way to hold on to your faith. Why is it that it’s easy to run from God until something goes wrong? That moment when your life is hanging by a thread—why is that the moment you suddenly decide you need him? I’d done a good job of closing myself off from God, and now I find myself demanding answers from him.”

  His questions resurrected her own demons. Nights she’d spent questioning God, begging for answers and relief from the pain. Some questions were never answered. But she’d started to realize that was okay.

  “I don’t have an easy answer, Nate. I had to fight to find my faith again. And there were times when all I wanted to do was walk away. There are still times today when I want to yell at God and tell him I’m done. How could a good God let something like that happen? But I think he understands when we question him. I think he’s there waiting for us to come back and realize he was always there.”

  “And the answers you found?”

  “Sometimes there aren’t any answers. Sometimes you just have to keep walking forward and holding on to whatever faith you have left. I had to let myself grieve. I know I’ll never get over losing Hannah, but I know that one day I’ll see her again.”

  “I think I’m finally finding a way out of the darkness, but getting rid of the guilt, whether logical or not . . .”

  “You have to let go of the guilt, Nate, or you’ll never heal. What happened that day wasn’t your fault, and nothing you could have done would have stopped what happened. And with Hannah, I did everything I could to save her, but sometimes everything you do just isn’t enough.”

  “And the days you just want to quit?”

  “We can start with today. There’s usually another trigger, and before I know it, I’m drowning in self-pity. Sometimes pulling myself out seems just as hard as it did the first time we were hit with Hannah’s diagnosis.”

  “Wednesday was my first day back on the job. I’ve been off for three months, waiting to get medical clearance. I was convinced that coming back would help me forget everything that happened. Like getting back into the saddle, and yet . . . I feel like it happened yesterday. Like it happened only minutes ago and not months. The images are that clear.”

  “What you’re saying makes complete sense. I know how trauma can change a person. Sometimes it destroys them. But if we allow God to step in, he can take those broken pieces and turn them into something beautiful.”

  “I don’t want this to destroy me, and yet sometimes . . .” He struggled to put his thoughts into words. “Sometimes I don’t know how to escape the panic and anger that’s always just under the surface.”

  “I know this sounds like a platitude, but give yourself time.”

  “Thanks for listening to me, though I feel like I’m the one who needs to be your rock today.”

  She leaned forward and pressed her hand against his knee again. “Stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine. And all of this will be over soon.”

  She studied his face. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable with her, something Kevin had never been able to do. She fought the urge to let him kiss her again. To explore what she couldn’t deny was happening between them. But now wasn’t the time. There would be a time and a place to discover whatever was happening. When all of this was over. Because first he needed to find out who he was on this side of tragedy. And in the meantime, find a way to put an end to this nightmare.

  27

  Grace glanced at the clock, then turned back to Nate. Even though she could sense there had been something about tonight that had brought a sense of healing to both of them, she could tell he was exhausted. And so was she. But there was also a part of her that didn’t want this moment to end. She sat beside him, feet pulled up beneath her and her knee against his leg.

  Am I really ready to take another chance with my heart, God?

  “You need to go home and get some rest,” she said.

  “I’m fine. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  She shot him a smile. “You might need to rethink that, considering I’m the one holed up in a safe house for the night. You have to go out there and brave the bad guys on the street.”

  “Touché.”

  “Face it,” she said. “We both need rest. If we’re going to get to the bottom of this, we’re both going to need to be at our best. And besides, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’re leaving me in a safe house with two guards. Not sure you could get much safer than that.”

  “But I’m not just talking about your physical safety. These agents will make sure you’re okay, but I know this day has been emotionally draining as well.”

  “Actually, you won’t get any arguments from me. I promise to get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Good. We’re going to figure this out, Gracie.”

  “Figure out the case . . . or what’s happening between us?” She surprised herself with her bold words. Maybe the past couple hours had been nothing more to him than a free counseling session, but for her, it had made her realize what she wanted again in life. Someone she could share with. Could laugh with.

  Someone to love her.

  He smiled at her. “I think I’d like to figure out both.”

  “And the case? What if we don’t find the patch?”

  “Don’t go there. There’s too much at stake.” His eyes seemed to pierce through her, all the way to her heart. He smiled again. “I’ll be here early, and I’ll bring breakfast. Bagels and coffee okay?”

  “If you make them chocolate chip.” She smiled back, knowing he was trying to distract her, but the fear had yet to disappear completely, safe house or not.

  “I can do that. And one more thing,” he said, pulling something out of his pocket. “I almost forgot, but since your phone is at the bottom of the lake, here’s a replacement and charging cord for you in case you need to call . . . well, anyone. It’s a secure phone no one will be able to trace.”

  “Thank you. I need to check in with my parents and a few other people. Let them know I’m okay.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes. Go.”

  “Okay. The guards will stay out here, but you and Macbain each have your own rooms, so you should get a good night’s sleep.”

  She watched him leave, marveling at the fact that the very day that marked her greatest loss had also brought her a possible chance for new love. Was that what God was giving her? A brand-new beginning?

  What happened if the grid went down and everything she knew was suddenly ripped away, including any chance for something between her and Nate?

  The fear started creeping in again.

  She closed her eyes and pushed it away.

  “You okay?”

  She looked up at Macbain, who stood in front of her with a mug of coffee. “Sorry. It . . . it’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

  “I’m still trying to work my mind around the fact that I’m sitting in the middle of an FBI safe house.” He let o
ut a low laugh. “Not exactly what I had planned for the day.”

  “Me either. How was the interview?”

  He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, then took a sip of his drink. “I told them the same things I told the police. I’ve also been working with the tech team nonstop for the past few hours, but without that patch . . . if we don’t have it, there’s no way to stop what could happen.”

  “Can’t you develop another one?” she asked.

  “Eventually.” He set his mug down next to him. “But not only would we have to have access to what Stephen discovered about the grid’s vulnerabilities, we don’t have that kind of time. It could easily take a dozen programmers months to develop something like this. And they’re estimating we have less than forty-eight hours before what’s going on here is put into place. Stopping it is like finding a needle in a haystack.”

  “So there’s nothing we can do?”

  “I’m not saying I’m giving up. I told them I’d sleep for a couple hours, then get back to work. I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something. Stephen said I could help, but I just don’t know how.”

  “I guess all you can do is keep trying.”

  “What about your interview? How did it go?”

  “I’m pretty sure I didn’t come up with anything new either. Stephen told me he left me everything I needed to put an end to this. But how can I when I don’t know what that means?”

  “If we knew the answer to that, neither of us would be sitting here.”

  “I am sorry for the loss of your friend. I suppose you haven’t really had any time to grieve.”

  “No. I thought I might go see his sister. I might even try to make it to the funeral, but I don’t know.”

  “We don’t have to make any decisions tonight. I know this has been hard. Get some sleep. I have a feeling we’re going to have a long day tomorrow. Maybe something will click by then.”