by Elle James
Leaning her forehead against his chest, she whispered, “We should go down.”
“In a perfect world, I’d say to hell with that and keep you up here in our own little suite and kiss you again.”
She lifted her head and stared up into eyes so dark with passion they made her burn for him. “What’s stopping you?”
He breathed in and out again as if steadying himself before answering. “We aren’t alone in this house. The others will be expecting us to come down soon.”
Jane nodded. “Then let’s go.”
He cupped her chin and lifted her face to his. “Tonight.” He spoke the one word like a promise.
A shiver of excitement rippled through her. “Tonight,” she repeated.
Gus extended his arm to her and she looped her hand through his elbow.
They walked all the way down the stairs before she let go and preceded him into the kitchen.
As they strode into the room every member of Declan’s Defenders turned toward them, their gazes intense, all frowning.
A lead weight settled in the pit of Jane’s belly.
“What?” Gus asked.
“Mack and Snow?” Declan turned to them.
Mack focused on Gus. “Our trip to Langley was enlightening.”
Snow continued. “Apparently, the CIA has been tracking certain people who have had dealings with the Russians and the Syrian rebels.” Snow’s gaze shifted from Gus to Jane.
“And?” Gus raised a hand to the small of Jane’s back.
She moved away from him so that his hand fell to his side. She didn’t want his marine brothers to think he had anything to do with her, other than his responsibility to keep an eye on her. What they had to say wasn’t going to be good. Gus didn’t need to be associated with her if she was purely bad.
“What did you find out?” Gus prompted impatiently.
Declan looked to Snow. “We think we know who Jane is.”
Jane’s heart raced and her pulse pounded so hard against her eardrums she could barely hear.
“Spit it out, damn it,” Gus said through gritted teeth.
“It’s okay,” Jane said. “Whatever you have to say, I need to hear.” She stood with her shoulders back, her chin held high.
“The CIA has been tracking a secret agent who goes by the code name Indigo.”
“Are you telling me our Jane Doe is Indigo?” Gus demanded.
“She fits the description,” Mack said. “Dark hair, dark eyes.”
“That could be any woman in Syria,” Gus argued.
“Speaks several languages,” Snow continued.
“Again, that could be a number of people in Syria,” Gus said.
Jane touched his arm. “It’s okay. I need to know.”
“There’s a reason she’s a skilled fighter,” Mack said, his eyes narrowing as his gaze shot to Jane. “She’s a trained assassin.”
Chapter Ten
Gus flinched as if he’d been punched in the gut.
Jane? His Jane? A trained assassin?
She stood beside him, her face pale, her eyes rounded.
“Any of this coming back to you?” Mack asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“I can’t believe it,” Gus said. “She can’t be a trained assassin.”
“I have my guy at Langley searching files for images.” Mack shifted his gaze from Jane back to Gus. “They will contact me as soon as they have something.”
Gus shoved a hand through his hair and stared at his friend and teammate. “How did you approach the subject of Jane? Did you tell them she was here? With us?”
“No. Actually, they don’t know we have anyone. We went on a mission to find out more about what’s going on in Syria. We asked if there were persons of interest they were following who could be a danger to the US.”
Gus shook his head. “And they jumped right to this Indigo person?”
“No, they had a list of Russian spies, Syrian rebels and mercenaries for hire.”
He wasn’t buying into Jane being Indigo, but he had to know how the assassin fit in. “Which group does Indigo have allegiance to?”
Mack’s lips pressed into a tight line. “That’s just it—she doesn’t claim any of the groups. They think someone is using her to orchestrate his own agenda.”
“What agenda did the CIA come up with?” Gus crossed his arms over his chest.
Snow answered. “A high-ranking Russian military leader, Lieutenant General Mikhail Marouchevsky, was assassinated minutes before he was due to evacuate the Shayrat Airbase. All the Russian planes made it out before the US bombed the airfield. All the Russians survived, except the lieutenant general.”
“If they thought I was this Indigo assassin, that would explain why the guards beating me spoke Russian,” Jane said. “They were dressed like Syrian rebels, but they spoke Russian and carried Russian AK-47s.”
Charlie’s eyes rounded. “Your tattoo led you here.” She pressed her hand to her mouth. “Could you be...” She shook her head. “No.”
“Your husband’s assassin?” Jane’s face turned even another shade paler.
“This is all circumstantial,” Gus said. “Jane might not even be this Indigo assassin.”
“Does the CIA know of others like her?” Grace asked. “Are any of them marked with the Trinity knot?”
“Who do we know so far who has had a connection to the symbol?” Declan said.
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “My husband had a ring with that symbol on it.”
“My friend Riley’s nanny had that symbol on a similar ring,” Grace said. “And she was a Russian sleeper spy, living in the US.”
“Now we have Jane, who speaks Russian and Arabic,” Declan said. “Coincidence?” He shook his head. “I think not.”
“But what would my husband have to do with an organization that employees Russian sleeper spies and trained assassins?” Charlie slipped into a chair at the kitchen table and buried her face in her hands. “Oh, John, what were you into?”
“All the more reason to break into his files.” Cole stood. “He had to know something about what tied them all together. Maybe I can find some information on the Dark Web.”
“Be careful. You open yourself up to all kinds of fanatics when you go there,” Declan warned.
Cole nodded. “I’ll be sure to set up a special IP address and mask it to maintain anonymity.”
Charlie stared at Jane and finally shook her head. “No. I can’t even conceive of the idea that Jane was the assassin behind my husband’s murder. She wouldn’t have done it. She’s had ample opportunity to harm any one of us since staying here, and she’s done nothing but help instead.”
Gus felt the same way. But what if he was wrong?
“Mrs. Halverson, I pray I didn’t,” Jane said. “If your husband was anything like you, I couldn’t have killed him. You are a good person, with a heart willing to take in the strays and help those in need. The world needs more people like you, not fewer.”
Charlie gave her a weak smile. “Thank you, dear.” She looked around the room at the others. “I’m not giving up on Jane. If she is Indigo, what proof do we have that she’s assassinated anyone? If she’s not Indigo, we still have to discover who she is. Don’t stop searching yet.”
Mack nodded, his gaze on Jane. “In the meantime, what do we do with Jane?”
“I won’t promise not to hurt you, because you probably wouldn’t believe me. If I am truly the assassin Indigo, even assassins can turn over a new leaf. I don’t have to be an assassin, if I don’t want to. And I really don’t want to.” She looked around at the doubting faces. “The other alternative is to kick me out.”
Gus’s gut clenched. Though he hadn’t wanted to be her guard, now it seemed he didn’t want the job to end.
When Charli
e shook her head and opened her mouth to say something, Jane held up her hand. “It’s okay if you do. I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, as it is.” She looked around at the men of Declan’s Defenders, their boss, Charlie, Arnold the butler, Carl the cook and Grace, Charlie’s assistant. “You are a family. I’m the outsider.”
Gus felt a hard tug at his heart. A family was all he’d ever wanted. And quite possibly, it was all Jane wanted, too. He could hear the hollowness in her voice, the hopelessness of her situation.
“I don’t suppose any of you want to eat after all that?” Carl asked softly.
Jane’s stomach rumbled loudly. She pressed a hand to it. “I only ask that you don’t kick me out until I’ve had at least a taste of Carl’s goulash.” She faked a laugh, though it sounded more like a sob.
Gus was almost certain assassins didn’t cry.
Charlie drew in a shaky breath and crossed the floor to Jane, pulling her into a tight hug. “I don’t believe you killed John. There has to be another reason that tattoo is on your wrist, and that it led you here. And we’ll find it.” She pushed Jane to arm’s length and stared into her eyes. “I promise.”
Gus let go of the breath he’d been holding. Charlie had every right to boot Jane out of her home. Hell, if they thought she was Indigo, they had an obligation to turn her over to the CIA for questioning. None of them stepped forward with that suggestion.
Instead, they gathered around the kitchen table and filled their bowls full of Carl’s Hungarian goulash and ate a hearty meal.
Gus sat beside Jane. At one point, he laid his hand over hers where she rested it in her lap.
She glanced his way and then looked away, moving her hand from beneath his.
He’d meant to reassure her that he was there for her. Was she already letting go?
He hadn’t known her long, but what he’d seen of her was enough to make him want to spend more time with her. She was strong, determined and capable of taking care of herself. But it was the vulnerable side that drew him even more.
He hoped the CIA was wrong about Indigo being his Jane. But if she was in fact Indigo...hell, he wasn’t sure what he’d do then.
Jane rolled the name Indigo over and over in her mind. It didn’t kick off any bells or alarms. In fact, it didn’t sound right to her ears. Perhaps it wasn’t a name she used for herself. But if not Indigo or Jane, what name fit? She wanted to bury her face in her hands and weep.
An assassin?
She ate the goulash, savoring every last bite as if it might be her last meal. And the way things were shaping up, it just might.
When the platter of rolls was passed to her, she grabbed two, setting one on the table beside her plate. She’d wrap it in a napkin and take it with her when Charlie got smart and asked her to leave.
The usual lighthearted humor was absent from the table.
Snow shot a glance toward Declan. “What happened to the SUV out front?”
Gus told him about the run-in they had with another SUV on the freeway.
Mack tilted his head slightly. “The entire time he was after you, did he even try to get past your vehicle to Charlie’s?”
Gus thought about it. The dark gray SUV had a couple of opportunities to race past them and attack Charlie’s car. “No. He never tried.”
“Could it be whoever was attacking your vehicle might have been going after Jane?” Snow pointed out.
“Why would he?” Declan asked. “We don’t even know who Jane is. How would anyone else? The only people who know she’s here are in this room.”
Gus shook his head. “That’s not exactly true.”
“Gus is right,” Charlie said. “She was at the gala when Charlie was attacked. And we went by Halverson International Headquarters. She was seen by any number of people, from security guards to receptionists.”
“Don’t forget your husband’s executive assistant, Margaret, and your CEO, Quincy Phishburn,” Cole added.
“Do you think someone in the Halverson headquarters knows about Jane?” Charlie asked.
“Could be.” Declan tapped his chin. “The question is why would they want to run her off the road?”
“Obviously, to kill her,” Gus said, his food lodging halfway to his stomach.
“Yes, but why would they want to kill her?” Declan continued. “Who knows she’s an assassin?” He gave Jane a crooked smile. “Assuming you are.”
She shrugged.
“Someone who knows about her and what happened in Syria?” Mack suggested.
“Someone who doesn’t want anyone to know what happened in Syria,” Gus guessed.
“All the more reason to get to the bottom of who Jane is and why someone is after her.” Charlie shook her head. “I just assumed the vehicle following you was ultimately after me. That’s what I get for assuming.”
After the meal was complete, Jane approached Charlie. “Do you want me to leave?” she asked quietly so that no one else could hear. She wanted Charlie to have the opportunity to cut her losses and let her go without the pressure of everyone watching or judging.
Charlie shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not.”
“What if I’m the assassin who killed your husband?”
“You’re not.” Charlie patted her arm. “I’m completely convinced of that. You could have hurt us all by now, as I said, if you are an assassin. I doubt you would have wasted so much time just to gain our trust. It doesn’t make sense. You didn’t kill John.”
“You won’t hurt my feelings if you want me to go. I’d have kicked me out long ago if I were you.”
Charlie smiled. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not me. I have a feeling John would have wanted us to help you. He was that kind of man. He helped people who needed it. Given all the information we have thus far, I’m sure he wouldn’t have kicked you out, either.”
“Thank you, Charlie. I hope you don’t come to regret your decision.”
“I won’t. And we’re going to figure out this mess. You’ll see. Everything will turn out right in the end.”
Jane wished that was so.
Until they reached the end, she vowed to walk a very straight-and-narrow line so that her mere presence among Declan’s Defenders didn’t make the men nervous.
Charlie stared at Jane, her brow dipping low as she swept her gaze over the younger woman. “We need to get you to town and buy some clothes that fit.”
“I’m fine with what Grace provided.”
“The red dress is lovely, but you need other items of your own, like jeans. Two women can’t wear the same pair of jeans. We’re all built so differently.” Charlie looked past Jane. “Arnold, tomorrow we’ll need the car brought out around nine o’clock in the morning.”
Arnold nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Jane shook her head. “I don’t want to bother you, Charlie.”
“You’re not a bother. It’s settled—we’re going shopping in the morning.” She glanced toward Declan. “We’ll need coverage to make the trip into town.”
“We’re on it,” Declan assured her.
“Have you finished searching John’s things?” Charlie asked.
“Not yet,” Declan answered. “While Cole and Jonah work on digital data, we’ll search the entire house.”
“Not just the house,” Charlie said. “We purchased this estate from a retired FBI agent. He had all kinds of secret hiding places and passages. I think he was a little paranoid.”
“We’ll search everywhere,” Declan said. “I know about the underground passageway to the garage. Are there more?”
“Yes. I believe there’s one to the garden,” Charlie said. “There might be some hidden rooms behind the walls here in the house and garage. I’m not certain I know where all of them are. John might have found some I didn’t.”
“Don’t forget the fingerprin
t card we made with Jane’s prints,” Gus reminded Cole.
“Got it,” Cole said. “We’ll work on that first.”
“What do you know about the IAFIS system?” Gus asked.
“Enough to find matching prints in the criminal, military and government databases. Why?” Cole asked.
“If you find a match, can someone be automatically notified if they’re looking for that person?”
Cole’s brow knit. “I’m not sure I follow.”
“If someone is looking for that person and another investigator finds a match, will the original searcher get notification of that match? I don’t want anyone to know where to find Jane, if we get a hit.”
That Gus was concerned for her well-being made Jane’s heart swell.
“Good point,” Cole said. “I’ll be sure to route it so that the inquiry doesn’t show up any IP address associated with Halverson estate.”
“Good,” Declan said. “We don’t need to bring any more trouble to Charlie’s doorstep than we already have.”
Was that it? The warmth Jane had experienced over Gus’s concern for her cooled. He was worried about bringing the bad guys here.
When had Jane started thinking everything was about her? She should know better. If she wanted to be protected, she had to take care of herself. She was already thinking of where she could go, if her location was compromised. Staying with Charlie wouldn’t be an option. The woman didn’t deserve to have more threats dropped at her door.
They split up, assigning different areas of the house and grounds for each person to search.
Gus and Jane took the third floor and attic since they were rooming up there anyway.
They felt their way around every wall in every room on the third floor; they touched wall sconces, moved furniture and checked beneath rugs. Nothing jumped out at them and no walls opened up magically to reveal a hidden room.
Narrow stairs led up into the attic. A fine layer of dust coated the contents of the space. Some of the items appeared to have been there from the previous owner. Cardboard boxes were stacked in several corners along with old furniture and lamps. A single yellow light bulb lit the space, albeit inadequately. As they moved around the attic, dust rose with every step, making it even murkier than before they entered. The light reflected off the particles of dust, giving it a hazy surreal atmosphere.
