by Jana DeLeon
“I’m sorry you worried about me,” I said before I could change my mind. “I mean, I’m not going to say it wasn’t nice to have someone worrying about me—that’s sort of a new thing in my life—but I wish I could have informed you better so that you wouldn’t have worried quite as much.”
“I appreciate the apology, but honestly, I don’t think it would have mattered if I’d known, not if I’d already developed feelings for you. In fact, I worry about you more now that I know why you’re here and the risks you’re willing to take because of who you are.”
I frowned. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but perhaps he was right. An amateur poking their nose into police business could get caught in the cross fire, but after so many years with the CIA, the very nature of my existence was risky. Ahmad was the biggest threat, but I’d made more than one enemy.
“That’s part of what I wanted to explain,” he said. “I’ve never told anyone what I’m about to share with you, not even my mother, so I’d appreciate it if you kept it between the two of us.”
“Of course,” I said, a bit surprised by his admission. What in the world could be so horrible that he hadn’t shared it with a single other person until now?
“You know I served in Iraq with the Marine Corps,” he said. “What you don’t know is that I was Force Recon.”
My eyes widened a little. I figured Carter had done his time in a special unit—he had the demeanor of someone with advanced training and experience—but Force Recon was an elite group of reconnaissance marines. In short, they were the most badass of the badasses. The few times I’d worked with a unit, I’d been blown away by their efficiency and reaction time.
“Wow,” I said. “That explains why you desperately needed some downtime after you got out.”
He nodded. “I saw my share of things, that’s for sure. But the one that did me in happened right before my time was up. It’s the main reason I didn’t reenlist.”
He looked down at the table, took a deep breath, then blew it out. “We were on a joint mission with three Mossad agents. I can’t tell you the details, of course, but we’d been working with them for six months collecting intelligence for a strike. One of the agents was a young woman—your age and just as deadly.”
He looked back up when he delivered the last sentence and without even hearing the rest of the story, I knew where it was going. He’d fallen for the woman. I could see it all in his sad and wistful expression. And she’d died. I was sure of it.
“You fell in love with her,” I said simply.
“Yes, maybe. Given the emotional high of our situation, it’s hard for me to know for sure, but I cared for her. I cared for her more than I ever had anyone else before.”
“What happened? If you can say.”
“Something went wrong, as they do sometimes with that type of work. You can gather mountains of intelligence, but that one tiny thing you don’t know could be the thing that makes everything fall apart.”
I nodded. I had firsthand knowledge of that.
“She died,” I said.
Carter nodded, clearly miserable. “And there was nothing I could do to prevent it. Even worse, we had to leave her there or we would all have died with her and the mission would have been a complete failure.”
My stomach rolled and my breath caught in my throat. It was a soldier’s worst nightmare…to leave a member of their unit behind. Losing a member was bad enough, and almost always left the others with horrible guilt, even when there was nothing they could have done to change things. But in Carter’s case, all that was amplified by his feelings for the woman. It was a million times more devastating. A million times more painful. And in that instant, I understood why he couldn’t have a relationship with me. He couldn’t take that loss again. And someone like me had a high risk of repeating the very horror he’d been trying to avoid. Every day, he’d be looking over my shoulder, worried that someone was gunning for me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I won’t say I understand how you feel because I don’t. I’ve never lost anyone under those circumstances, not anyone I had deep feelings for. And I understand why you can’t be involved with me. I don’t blame you. If I were in your place, I wouldn’t want to either.”
“But that’s the problem. I know I don’t want the things you bring into my life, but it doesn’t stop me from still wanting you. I just don’t see any way to resolve it…”
“As long as I’m still with the CIA,” I finished.
He nodded. “And you’re sure that’s where you want to be?”
The tiny bit of hopefulness in his voice almost did me in. But how could I answer? Right now, I was uncertain of almost every aspect of my life from my past to my future. I was drowning and in desperate need of a life preserver.
“That answer used to be easy,” I said finally, “but now, I’m not so sure. I’ve spent all my time and energy dedicated to my job without ever asking myself why. It wasn’t until I came here that I even realized I should be.”
“Harrison told me your mother died when you were young. Maybe if she hadn’t, you would have had more than one path to consider.”
I nodded, just now realizing that although Carter knew who and what I was, the only things he knew about my past were what Harrison had told him.
“I’m sure you’re right,” I said. “My mother was nothing like my father. Looking back, I have no idea why they ever got together, and if she’d lived, I wonder if she would have stayed with him for the long term.”
“But he didn’t have a long term either.”
“No. He was killed on a mission when I was fifteen.”
“What happened to you after? Did you go to family?”
I shook my head. “Both sets of grandparents died when I was a baby and my parents were only children. I think I have some distant cousins, but I’ve never met them. You can’t exactly drop a teenager in on strangers. That’s not a good situation for anyone.”
“Foster care?”
“God no! Morrow made sure I avoided that horror. My father had made provisions that Morrow be in charge of my care in the event that something happened to him. Morrow is the closest thing to family that I’ve got. He and his wife took me in until I finished high school, which I managed to do a year sooner than scheduled, so I was only with them a little over a year. I had insurance money from both parents, so college wasn’t an economic issue. I graduated and went straight to the CIA.”
Carter shook his head. “Wow. That’s a whole lot for you to handle at such a young age. So you went from living with your father, who was CIA agent extraordinaire, to living with his boss, who has his own reputation for his accomplishments back in the day. It’s no wonder you had a one-track mind. You’d never known anything else.”
“That’s true, but it’s the easy way out as far as explanations go.” I leaned across the table and looked him directly in the eyes. “See, if it was just a matter of doing things because of other people, I could walk away without a qualm, but the truth is that what I do is part of me. Coming to Sinful has taught me so many things about myself, but one of the big ones is that what I do is part of who I am. If it wasn’t, I would never have let Gertie and Ida Belle involve me in things I should have kept well out of.”
I could tell he wasn’t overly happy with what I said, but at the same time, he understood it. After all, he hadn’t returned to Sinful and taken up shrimping. He’d gone into law enforcement. I truly believed that some people are called to that type of work and are unable to do anything else.
“So you’ve made up your mind,” he said. “When Ahmad is out of play, you’ll return to DC and the CIA?”
I sighed. “If only it were that simple, but I don’t think it would be. Being here has changed me…not in a bad way for me, personally, but probably not in a good way for my future with the agency. I’ve been thinking about that day ever since I arrived here and my thinking from that first day when you caught me throwing my shoes into the bayou is not at all t
he same as my thinking now.”
Carter nodded. “You can never go home again.”
“That’s exactly it. I’m starting to see my previous life as very narrow, and I think going back and attempting to slip into my old life would be impossible. In order to do my job well, nothing can be even remotely as important as the job. Now that I’ve met people I care for, and experienced actually having a life outside of my work, I don’t think I want to let that go. Not completely.”
“But you don’t want to let the work go completely, either.”
“I don’t think I can. I think what I have to do is create a new life that gives me both options. Neither at one hundred percent, but neither at zero.”
He was quiet for several seconds, studying me, and I could tell he wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure about it. Finally, he asked, “So you’ve never had anyone you cared about enough to make you question things before now?”
“No.” And that was the God’s honest truth.
“What about Harrison?”
“It never once crossed my mind. Don’t get me wrong—I like Harrison and I have huge respect for him. But I don’t think either of us has ever viewed the other outside of our abilities and our obligation to keep each other safe. I guess if I thought hard about it, I’d have to admit that I do care about him, but it’s not something I think about because it might interfere with my work.”
“And you think Harrison feels the same way?”
“I’d bet money on it. Harrison is a great partner and a damned fine agent. I wouldn’t trust my life to anyone else at the agency, but that’s where it begins and ends. Besides, Harrison has a girl that he’s been seeing casually. In fact, I just spoke with him about it. When all this is over, he’s leaving the agency. Apparently, my crisis has made him question things as well.”
“Well, I would tell you police work has fewer risks, but lately, it doesn’t seem that way. And then there’s the personal element if you set up shop where you know everyone.” He shook his head. “This murder has really hit me hard. Gail Bishop is one of the nicest women I’ve ever known, and she made a real difference with her work. It’s a huge loss for Sinful, New Orleans, and so many people who will never be helped because she’s no longer here.”
“And Nolan,” I said. “I can’t imagine how he must feel. The only silver lining is that he doesn’t have to worry about going into a facility. With the insurance money, he’ll be able to afford in-home assistance as he needs it.”
“What insurance?” Carter asked. “I asked Nolan about insurance the other day…I knew he’d need a death certificate.”
I told him about the insurance agent’s visit and the policy Gail had taken out in secret. “Isn’t that great? I mean, considering.”
He nodded. “It takes away one worry, at least.”
“I think Ida Belle was going to handle the paperwork for him when the death certificate is ready.”
“I’ll let her know when it’s available.”
An awkward silence ensued and I wiggled a bit in my seat, feeling like a five-year-old in church—or my adult self in church. My only saving grace was that a quick glance at Carter let me know he was feeling as uncomfortable as I was. Or maybe it was something more. He was staring out my kitchen window and frowning.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
He came back into focus and looked at me. “Yeah. I mean, no, but it’s as good as it’s getting for now. I guess I better get going. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork to do.”
I’m sure that was true, but at the same time, I felt like it was more of an excuse to leave than a reason to leave. I rose from my chair and followed him to the front door, not sure what I thought about our conversation. Did I feel better? Had I gotten closure? I so hated that word. It was too pop psychology.
Carter stepped outside and turned back to face me. Before I could change my mind, I blurted out, “Are you still mad at the three of us for lying to you?”
He sighed. “It would be a lot easier if I were. But then I’d be a hypocrite. The three of you were doing what you were supposed to do—protecting secrets you’d been entrusted to protect. I appreciate that necessity because it’s part of my life as well. But I’d be lying if I said I liked it. For any of us.”
I nodded and felt a wave of guilt wash over me all over again. Carter was such an honorable man, and he was trying so hard to be fair even though I knew it was killing him to be.
He turned to walk away and I touched his arm. As he stopped and turned back to look at me, I said, “Be careful. Someone murdered Gail for a reason. I don’t think another would be a big deal to him.”
“Neither do I.”
Chapter 15
I was just about to head upstairs for a shower when my phone rang. It was Ida Belle, and she was in a twist.
“Is Carter gone?” she asked.
“He just left,” I said. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes. Emergency meeting at Gertie’s. That way she doesn’t have to get up. I’ve got to change clothes and I’ll be there in ten.”
She disconnected the call and I looked at my phone and frowned. Ida Belle was always the calm, efficient one, but she was clearly stressed. Whatever was going on, Gertie must not know about it yet since Ida Belle wasn’t over there. Which told me exactly nothing except that something had happened between when Ida Belle took Gertie home and now. Something that had her normally calm demeanor thrown completely off.
I grabbed my keys and headed out. Gertie’s house wasn’t far away, but there was a killer on the loose somewhere in Sinful. I had no idea how long this would take, and wandering around after dark probably wasn’t the best idea. Not right now. Not even for me. Bullets beat martial arts every time.
I had a key to Gertie’s house, but I knocked and yelled my name before opening the door. I was fairly sure Gertie was armed when she showered. No way was she sitting in the recliner, at a disadvantage with her injured ankle, and not armed up to the gills. I stuck my head in and she waved from her chair. I closed the door and locked it behind me.
“I assume you heard from Ida Belle?” I asked.
Gertie nodded. “She called a couple minutes ago. What’s going on?”
“I have no idea. Carter had left my house just a bit before when I got her call to hurry over here. I’m going to grab a soda. Do you need anything to drink?”
“A soda would be great, and don’t think I’m letting that comment about Carter slide just because Ida Belle has her panties in a bunch. I want to know what happened.”
I grabbed three bottles of soda from the refrigerator and headed back into the living room. With any luck, Ida Belle would arrive before Gertie started grilling me. I really didn’t want to have the conversation more than once, so she was going to have to wait until we were all together. And I had a feeling that whatever had upset Ida Belle’s chi was going to take priority over my sadly-interrupted love life.
As I handed Gertie the soda, I heard Ida Belle’s motorcycle pull up in the drive. I went to the door and opened it for her to enter. She pulled off her helmet and I could see the strain on her face. Her hair contained tiny bits of foliage clinging to the strands and she had a couple scratches on her left cheek. I had brought an extra soda for her and passed it to her before taking a seat on the coffee table. Ida Belle sat on the couch and took a big swig of the drink.
I looked over at Gertie, who gave me an anxious glance. “You might as well tell us what’s wrong,” Gertie said. “It’s written all over your face and we already know it’s not good.”
“Got that right,” Ida Belle said.
“Tell us,” I urged.
“After I got Gertie settled, I was feeling restless so I took my motorcycle out for a ride,” Ida Belle said. “I cruised out to the highway, figuring I’d get some wind under my helmet, and that’s when I saw Brandon’s truck pulling off the highway and onto a road that I knew dead-ended in the swamp. I couldn’t imagine what business he had back there, but I k
new it wasn’t shrimping. And after that run-in we had with him today and Fortune’s yesterday, I figured I’d follow him and see what he was up to.”
I felt my back tighten. I hadn’t known Peaches for long, but I liked her. If her husband was up to something bad, it would be devastating for her.
“And?” Gertie asked. I could see her fingers digging into the armrest. Her jaw was clenched and I could tell she was already processing the worst possible scenarios just like I was.
“I kept a ways back,” Ida Belle said. “There’s nothing down that road but a couple of falling-down shacks, so I didn’t figure I would lose him. When I got close to the end of the road, I pulled off behind some bushes and left my bike, then cut through the woods so he wouldn’t see me coming.”
That explained the foliage and the scratches, anyway, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with something Brandon had been doing on a road that dead-ended into a swamp. If people had been disappearing, I’d say he was disposing of bodies, but no one was missing that I was aware of.
Ida Belle took another drink of soda, then continued. “When I got close to the end of the road, I could see his truck through the brush. He was parked in a bit of a clearing that looked like it had been made from people turning their vehicles around. He was still sitting in the truck, but I couldn’t get any closer without him seeing me approach, so I climbed a tree, figuring it would give me a vantage point to see what he did.”
“What if he’d seen you?” Gertie asked.
Ida Belle shrugged. “I figured he wouldn’t be likely to look up without a reason. It was a calculated risk. Part of me yelled that I needed to turn around and get out of there, but the other part of me couldn’t leave without knowing what Peaches was in for.”
Gertie frowned but she didn’t belabor her point. The reality was, if she’d been there, she wouldn’t have hesitated to scale a tree either.
“What did you see?” I asked.
“He was using a laptop,” Ida Belle said. “I couldn’t see what was on the screen, but his cell phone was sitting on the dash and he had it attached.”
