Dangerous Lies (Shades of Leverage)

by Claudia Shelton

  She followed a couple steps behind him. “I probably shouldn’t have kissed you, either. But I don’t regret one second of it.”

  For a moment, he felt the touch of her fingers against his back. What the hell was wrong with him? Just when he thought he’d figured himself out, life screwed with his mind and threw him a curve ball. Once again, he needed to face that, mixed in with being a man, he was sometimes a gentleman. Sometimes an ass—an all-out go-for-broke ass. For the most part, though, he had no fucking idea who he was. Or, why he acted…like an ass sometimes.

  “Funny thing…” He stopped and waited for her to step up beside him, then he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “I don’t regret it, either.”

  “Granger! Double time over here.” His old training instructor’s voice rang out across the tarmac. “Now!”

  Mitch motioned Liz to stay where she was then headed toward his instructor. Off to his left, he saw another man double-timing in the same direction. Same height. Same build. Same gait. Jeremy…his brother Jeremy.

  They both arrived in front of his old instructor, who looked smug and proud of himself. “You two need to talk.” The instructor nodded, then walked away. “Now!”

  Mitch grabbed his brother’s arm. “What the hell are you doing here?’

  Jeremy responded with a raised fist. “Was this your idea?”

  “Not likely. You’re supposed to be in Indiana at college.”

  “Shows how much you know. I graduated last semester.” His brother lowered his hand.

  Mitch couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So, whose tuition am I paying?”

  “The same deserving student you’ve been paying for all along. And I hope you don’t stop, because he still has a semester to go.”

  Standing on a tarmac, learning he was paying tuition for someone he didn’t even know, ranked right up with one of the craziest mornings Mitch had ever had. “How did you get through college without my help?”

  “I worked and saved and took out loans and enlisted.” Jeremy braced his hands on his waist and laughed. “I don’t want your money. You want me to say thanks? Then, thanks. Thanks for mailing a gift card when I graduated high school. Thanks for sending presents every Christmas, when all we wanted was to see you. And, thanks for never being there when I had a question about life. Thanks for not a damn thing. I don’t need your control, Mitch. I can take care of myself.”

  In less than an hour two people had said the word “control” to him. “I never wanted thanks. I just didn’t want you all to have to go through what I had in life. You all deserve better.”

  “What about you? What do you deserve?” Jeremy glanced at the ground. “Think about it, did you really think our aunt wouldn’t tell us why you left years ago? Or that you sent money all the time? Or that you’d make sure we all got through college? Think about it.”

  All these years, Mitch had thought about how much his family needed him. How he needed to keep them going in life. Help them find their way. But he’d never wanted them to know. He’d never wanted any of the credit. He’d simply been fulfilling his promise to their dad.

  Liz strode up to the two men. “The chopper pilot says we have to go.”

  Mitch nodded. Jeremy took a few steps in the opposite direction.

  “That’s it? That’s all we’ve got to say after all these years?” Mitch asked.

  His brother turned and kept walking backward. “That’s it, bro. Hell Week’s coming, and I’ve got a life to live. You need to get one, too.”

  Jeremy turned and jogged away.

  “I take it that’s your brother,” Liz said.

  “Yeah.” Mitch took her arm, guiding her toward the chopper.

  “And he’s not in Indiana.”

  “No.”

  She pulled out of his hold, stopped, and stared at him. “Your brother’s here, Mitch. He’s in SEAL training. Gonna go through Hell Week. Think about it. What do you need to do for him?”

  If one more person told him to think about something, Mitch felt like he might explode.

  Mitch raced across the tarmac and adjoining field to partly catch up with his brother. “Jeremy! Watch out for the hypothermia.”

  His brother stopped, turned. Shot him a go-to-hell look. “What?”

  “Watch out for the hypothermia. It’s a killer.” Mitch’s idea of motivation might not jive with what others considered appropriate, but he knew what his brother needed. “I’d sure hate to be the SEAL whose little brother couldn’t make it through Hell Week.”

  Jeremy turned and jogged away. “Fuck you!”

  Racing back to the tarmac, Mitch noticed his old instructor standing at the edge of the tree line. Mitch raised his arm straight up. “Hooyah!”

  The instructor responded in kind.

  “Come on, Mitch.” Liz shouted. “Chopper’s leaving. Move your sorry ass.”

  Motivation was taking on strange forms today, but hell, this might be a day he’d never forget. He charged to the chopper and hoisted himself inside. Damn, he loved this base. This life. Missed it, too. Maybe he should find another place to love.

  Like a house with a pool and a view and—fortress-like security with bulletproof windows. He leaned back, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. He knew exactly where they were going. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The last five days had been mile after mile of flight time once they’d left the first military base. Liz had had plenty of time to reread the letter from Drake. After much self-evaluation, she’d discovered she wasn’t like her mother when it came to being strong and self-reliant. Sure, she still had a level of fear, but in a controlled way. And sometimes that meant one moment at a time.

  On the other hand, Mitch always seemed to be thinking five steps ahead. Like a chess game, he appeared to be making each move for a deliberate reason. He was an interesting man to understand. Difficult to get to know. One second, he’d be strong and to the point in what he expected. The next, kind and thoughtful, explaining where, why, and when for what he asked her to do. She liked the thoughtful Mitch better but understood the strong side…even felt an allegiance.

  Liz had thought, once the chopper picked them up, everything would fall into place. Instead, their itinerary had included traveling to one state after another. One city after another. One government runway after another. Although, the place last night had been nothing more than an airstrip in the middle of nowhere.

  They’d ridden everything from a commercial airline to private jet to a prop puddle jumper. But nothing had compared to the adventure of taking off from land in an amphibious plane in Michigan, only to touch down on one of the many lakes in Wisconsin a few hours later.

  On some flights, Mitch, Reese, and she were all on board. Others, Mitch and she went one direction. Reese went another, only to be magically waiting for them at the next stop. Too bad she hadn’t been able to use her frequent flyer number.

  She might be shorter and slower, but she’d kept up all the way. Mitch had told her, after their last flight landed at Fort Benning, Georgia, that they were almost to the location he’d chosen to hide the two of them. Reese had headed in a different direction. Now, Mitch and she were in a car with tinted windows, one that could probably outrun every other car on the road, and they were going five miles below the speed limit. He seemed to be going out of his way to obey every driving law.

  The dashboard clock read 4:00 p.m. What time zone? She had no idea. The sun was on the right side of the car, so she figured they were heading south. Suddenly, a tree at the side of the road caught her attention, then another, and another.

  “Are those palm trees?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Palm trees grow in Florida?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where the hell are you taking us?” She didn’t use curse words lightly; then again, she’d done a lot of things in the past few days she didn’t usually do. What was one more?

  “We’re heade
d to the safest place I know.” He rolled his head in a circle, complete with tiny popping sounds. “I think you’ll like it. Got a great view.”

  “Let me get this straight. There are people chasing us. I’m a target. You’re a target. The whole OPAQUE organization is a target.” She heard her voice getting louder, but she couldn’t stop. “But no matter what, there are no worries, because there’s a”—she shook her frustration fists in front of her face—”Damn. Great. View.”

  Pressing her fingers against her forehead, she turned to look out the passenger window. Palm trees, palm trees, palm trees.

  Mitch grinned. “You seem a little…uh…upset.”

  “Upset? Upset is nothing compared to how you make me feel.” She pointed her finger in his direction and glared. “You’re crazy. You. Are. All. Crazy.”

  “Think so?”

  “Know so.”

  Her control had reached its breaking point, and his grin had tipped her over the line. “What is with the Sunday-driving-eighty-year-old speed we keep going?”

  Mitch slammed the pedal down and the car jolted forward as its tires ate up the clear road straight ahead. He accelerated in and out of curves, left, then right, back left. She gripped the door rest and pressed her feet on the nonexistent brake in the passenger side floor. Quickly he braked, spun a three-sixty, and came out headed straight on down the road back at the breakneck speed of five below the speed limit.

  Blowing out a sigh, she settled back in her seat. “Like I said…you’re crazy.”

  “Would a crazy guy be breaking every rule in the training manual, hoping CT can’t figure out where we’re headed? Doing anything he can think of to throw them off the scent?” Mitch clicked open the moonroof. “Would a crazy guy fly us all over the United States? Sometimes hidden, sometimes letting anyone who might be clocking us know exactly where we were?”

  He made sense on some level. After all, she’d overheard him making arrangements for everything they’d done. Always thinking three steps ahead. Directing Reese and Josh on their responsibilities. Keeping her shielded, close against his side. Making sure she had everything she needed—clothes, food, magazines, shampoo, and a different shampoo when the first one didn’t get the camo makeup out of her hair. Neither had that one. She looked more and more like a freak every time she looked in a mirror.

  “Well, would he?” Mitch asked. “I don’t think so. Hell, I’ve got CT so screwed up they have no idea where we are. For all they know, we may be in another country.”

  At this point, being in another country wouldn’t have surprised her, but she didn’t want to talk any more. Didn’t want to think. “I’m just tired. So very, very tired.”

  She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, laying her hand on the seat.

  “I know.” His voice softened as he covered her hand with his own, squeezing lightly. “We’ll be there soon, and you can get some rest.”

  She’d grown to love the warmth of his hand on hers. The way he steered her with a touch of his hand against the small of her back. Or how he’d move her from one side of him to the other with only a touch of his fingers on her arm. She’d miss that when this was over.

  As a journalist, she was continually doing synonym searches for words. She’d never researched the word safe. Had no idea what other words might give the same meaning. To her, right now, safe meant Mitch. So did warmth.

  She lolled her head in his direction and opened her eyes. “So tell me, what is this great view?”

  He looked straight ahead and pointed. “That.”

  She followed his line of sight then sucked in a deep breath. “Please tell me that’s the Atlantic Ocean.”

  “Afraid not. That’s the Gulf of Mexico. We passed through Panama City, Florida and are heading across the Hathaway Bridge.” He veered to the right as they left the bridge and turned onto Highway 98. “We’ll run up the coastline a ways.”

  “Are we headed to Pensacola?”

  “In that direction, but we’ll stop long before then. I’m serious, though, this is a nice place. You’ll be safe.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I know the owner.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “MGBa-Dass, Inc.”

  “MGBa-Dass, Inc.? Never heard of them.” Of course, she’d never heard of OPAQUE till a few days ago. And look how well that had turned out.

  Mitch shot her a quick glance. “Not many people have. Why don’t you get some rest?”

  Even though the drive was breathtaking, all she could think about was her father’s lie all these years. And her mother. Why hadn’t she, at least, told her? Sure, she’d been way too young to be privy to the details of her family’s life in the WPP. But why hadn’t her mother left her a letter to be read once she grew up? A warning of some kind.

  “Oh, Mama,” Liz said. “Why…why?”

  “Did you say something?” Mitch asked.

  “No, not really. I was thinking about my life. Evidently, my dad didn’t trust me. And even my mother took the secret to her grave.” Liz lifted her chin. “I will never forgive my dad. He had no right to put us in that danger.”

  “I’m sure he did what he thought was right at the time. Drake told me your dad talked to your mom before he agreed to help on the first case. She told him to do what he felt was right. I imagine she told him the same thing after CT paid you all a visit.”

  Liz turned toward Mitch. By now, she’d learned a few of his tells when he was walking a thin line on truth and lie. Like the tiny twitch at the corner of his eye. Clipped words. She saw no evidence of either.

  When she was young, she’d believed her parents had been so in love—little touches, quick kisses. The way they laughed at the same things. Even the way she’d seen them look at each other when they thought she wasn’t watching. But reading Drake’s letter had left her wondering just who her mother had really loved. Had she really chosen to go with Russ so he’d have someone he knew with him in his new life? A nice, safe life in a nice, new place. Or had she fled Drake because she didn’t have the nerve to be part of his world?

  Once her mother made her choice, of course she’d have done anything for the family. As Liz’s childhood passed, she’d had no doubt her mother always told her dad to do what he thought best. Didn’t mean she really wanted that outcome. Didn’t mean he actually had to take that path.

  Then, the nice, quiet life her mother had taken great pains to choose had been completely shattered once Russ began to work with OPAQUE as an informant. That could explain why her mother had seemed to change after CT showed up at their house. Why she seemed to give up when cancer intervened in their lives.

  No. Liz couldn’t accept that logic. “So, just like that, I’m supposed to think better of him? Give him a pass on dragging us away from a normal life in the WPP while he lived his life of excitement helping law enforcement?”

  Her breath seemed to stick in her throat. Flashes of brightness blinked in her eyes, her mind. A memory from the past flooded her mind like an arrow straight to the target’s bull’s-eye.

  “I didn’t say that,” Mitch said. “But don’t lay all the blame at his feet, either. You may not know the whole story.”

  She knew enough. The past few days of flying had given her plenty of time to put a lot of events in her life in perspective. They weren’t all things to be overlooked. She wasn’t always ten years old. Coloring books disappeared. Her mother’s arms weren’t there to hold her any longer.

  A sudden shiver swerved through her body. Cold. So, cold. Why was her mouth so dry?

  Mitch touched her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “Su…re. Why?”

  “You’re practically panting, Liz. What’s wrong?” He slowed the car, tapping the button for the warning lights, then reached across and placed his hand on her shoulder. Gently, he circled his fingers. “Come on, everything’s okay. I’m right here.”

  Gradually, she calmed her breathing and yanked herself out of the fear closing in on her thoughts. The f
ear of being alone. No windows. No coloring book. No mother’s arms holding her close.

  “Do I need to pull off the road?” he asked.

  She shook her head. As much as she’d like to feel the comfort of Mitch’s arms around her, there was really no place to safely stop. “No…no… I’ll be okay.”

  He clicked off the warning lights and resumed his speed. And, even though he’d moved his hands back to the steering wheel, his sideways glances at her said she needed to explain. Explain something she hadn’t thought of in years.

  “Looking back, I realize CT came more than one time. My dad always made me hide. Of course, I didn’t know who they were exactly, but it didn’t take me long to figure out they weren’t to be trusted,” she whispered, then swallowed to clear her emotions. “Do you know how many places don’t have windows? How dark the dark can be when you’re twelve years old and alone?”

  Slowly, he blew out a long, cheek-puffing breath then shook his head. “I’m sorry you had to experience that. Did you tell your dad how much those times bothered you?”

  “No. He wasn’t the same after my mother died. Didn’t laugh as much. His shoulders slumped, and…his eyes lost their happiness.” She dabbed at the tears in the corners of her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, he was always there when I needed him. But I tried not to bother him with my personal problems.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t a bother to him.”

  She nodded as a sarcastic smile smirked at her mouth. “You keep on thinking that. He’d always be happier after their visits. Toss a handful of money on the table. Tell me to take care of myself and stay out of trouble. Then go off for days. Come back with a case of Johnnie Walker and a box of cigars. New clothes. New haircut. New woman friend to talk to on the phone.”

  They drove quietly for a couple more minutes, then Mitch turned right, onto a road headed toward the shoreline. “Sometimes a man does what he has to do for the good of someone else. Otherwise he can’t live with himself. Then, there gets to be a point where there’s no going back.”

  “You sound like you speak from experience.”