Catch a Shadow

by Potter, Patricia;

She knew from his tone he couldn’t be dissuaded.

  She made the call.

  Ames knew he’d lost this battle. Maybe not the war. Four men hadn’t returned. One or two might well talk. There were enough people involved now that his existence would eventually be confirmed. He would be on the run.

  He needed to get back to Argentina, take what he could, and disappear again.

  First things first, though. He was going to finish the job that should have been finished seven years ago. There was also a chance that Jake Kelly and the woman knew where Del Cox had kept the diamonds he’d stolen from Ames. Not only would he close the loose end named Jake Kelly, he’d recoup any diamonds that might remain and any proof that might help condemn him.

  He picked up the phone and dialed. He had one ace left in his hand. His contact in the CIA.

  Ben and Robin Taylor were waiting at the storage facility when Jake and Kirke arrived at ten p.m. Ben acknowledged introductions with a curt nod. It was apparent he was not happy, but Jake had sworn he would surrender immediately after opening the stall, no matter what they found.

  Jake was gambling all or nothing. Being a fugitive on the run wasn’t much more appealing than prison. He certainly wasn’t going to draw Kirke into that kind of life.

  Taylor obviously didn’t like the rules, but he wasn’t a fool. It would be a coup to bring in someone like Jake Kelly, and it wasn’t unusual for a fugitive to surrender to a particular agent. As for Jake, he needed a witness to opening the stall.

  “Do you have a weapon?” Taylor asked.

  Jake shook his head and stood silent as Ben frisked him.

  Once the formalities were over, the two couples faced the locked gate of the facility. Jake punched in Cox’s numbers to open the gate. Instantly, the green light flashed that the code was accepted, and the huge iron gate began to swing open. Once inside, it was easy to tell the unit number was the last three numbers of the code.

  Jake drove to the stall, and Ben and Robin followed in their rental car. Jake looked at Kirke before getting out of the car. She gave him a tremulous smile, reached over and squeezed his hand, then handed him the key Dallas had given them.

  They all gathered around the lock, and Jake took a deep breath. He slowly inserted the key and tried to turn the lock. The lock hesitated for only a second before the tumblers caught and popped open.

  Jake reached for a hanging light switch and turned it on. Despite the big sign outside that claimed climate control, the room smelled musty and dank. There were two cardboard cartons on the floor. On top of them were two envelopes, one with his name and one with Dallas’s name. He picked them up, hesitated.

  Letter? Or boxes?

  He opened the letter for him. He was very aware of the FBI man next to him. A letter some two pages long came out into his fingers along with several diamonds.

  Mitch, or is it Jake? it read. I haven’t had the guts to write you directly, and so I hope this might reach you not long after my death.

  Long story. Long journey. Lots of mistakes along the way. The biggest was Dallas. The second biggest was you.

  I want you to know I never agreed to the killing of Ramos and Chet. I was walking behind you when suddenly I heard gunfire and saw the three of you go down. Adams told me to finish you off. I couldn’t do it and fired a shot into the ground.

  I had agreed to help him steal the diamonds. It seemed like a way to get Dallas away from Williamsburg. He never said he was going to kill anyone, but I should have known. Maybe I didn’t want to.

  We would have enough money, he said, to change our faces and live anywhere in the world. He knew I needed money. Dallas had told me she wouldn’t marry another company man and, hell, I didn’t know anything but explosives. The kind that kill people. I thought if I had enough money, I could buy a ranch.

  After he shot the others, I knew it was only a matter of hours before he killed me as well. He wanted no witnesses. He included me in the beginning because he knew I was a pilot. The only weak thing about Adams was a fear of flying he kept hidden from the Company. He could never bring himself to learn to fly. For a time, he needed me more than I needed him, but I realized that would last only until we got to our destination. I grabbed Chet’s pack with the million dollars and another half million in diamonds and ran for my life.

  I got to the plane before he did and took off. He’s been looking for me ever since, and I knew he would kill me if he ever located me.

  Now I have a bad heart. Probably not long to live. Cowardly to wait until now? Yeah. But there it is. There are tapes and journals in the box as well as five hundred thousand in diamonds and Chet’s money belt. I hope it will clear your name.

  Del Cox

  Jake silently passed the letter and diamonds to Ben Taylor, who skimmed over it, then handed it to Kirke, who read it.

  “Will that be enough?” Jake asked.

  “With the stuff he says is in the box, I would think so,” Taylor said. “In the meantime, though, I have to take you in.”

  Kirke put her hand on Jake’s back. He was finally vindicated after all these years. She could only imagine what he must be feeling.

  She started to turn and say something to Robin, but a sudden glint caught her eye, and she saw a figure outside.

  Adams!

  His hand held an automatic. He lifted it and pointed it directly at Jake. She couldn’t think. She could only react, and she stepped in front of Jake as the pistol fired.

  Robin and Ben accompanied Kirke when she visited Jake in the hospital. He was in the detention area, his wrist handcuffed to the hospital bed. Ben Taylor had assured her, though, that it was a temporary thing.

  The agent had shot Adams almost at the same moment the rogue agent had fired. Adams—his real name, she and Jake had learned, was Ames Williamson—died on the way to the hospital. It solved any number of problems for both the government and Ben. No long trial for Williamson. No embarrassment for the government, unless Jake made the affair public. That put him in a great bargaining position.

  Jake looked pale. He’d been shot in the chest when he’d pushed her out of the way and fell on her. She remembered the weight of him, the blood that flowed.

  A lung was hit. She was able to pack the wound and help him breathe until they got to the hospital, then waited for hours during surgery.

  He gave her a faint smile. “I hear I’m lucky that I had a paramedic with me.”

  She grinned at him. “Good thing to have around,” she said.

  His smile turned into a frown. “I thought … I might lose you when you did still another damn fool thing. You need a keeper, lady.”

  Her hand reached for his. “Any offers?”

  He looked to Ben.

  “I’ve talked to JAG,” the FBI agent said. “They’ve already reopened your case. Williamson is dead. Now that we know who the hit-and-run victim is, we can compare his DNA with the contents of the storage area. It’s only a matter of time before you’re cleared.”

  “My thanks to both of you,” Jake said to the Taylors.

  “Thank Robin,” Ben Taylor replied, glancing fondly at his wife. “She’s like a bull terrier with a bone. She wouldn’t let it go.” He put an arm around his wife.

  After they left, Kirke sat next to Jake and took his hand. Her fingers played with it, wanting to reassure herself they were, indeed, warm. He was alive. And soon he would have his life back.

  His fingers caught hers, and he brought them to his lips.

  “I always thought I didn’t need anyone,” he said. “My father taught me that. You take care of your own problems. You keep your troubles to yourself.” He shifted in the bed. “Thank you for not letting me do that. I’ve been thinking of all the people who helped me along the way, sometimes because of you, sometimes because they thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “And sometimes because of you,” she said.

  He looked pleased at the observation.

  “What are you going to do when you’re cleare
d? Go back to the military?”

  “No,” he said flatly. “I should have a hell of a lot back pay due. I’m going to talk to Mac and Cole about going into business with them. Some kind of investigative agency.”

  “That sounds good,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. So that was that. He hadn’t meant anything when he’d teased her about needing a keeper.

  “I think we’ll need a manager,” he said. “Someone who can think of university libraries and solve puzzles and sew up people if they ever get in trouble.”

  Her hand trembled in his.

  “There will be another duty, if she’s interested,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Taking on a cynical old warrior.”

  Her heart started to beat hard.

  “That a requirement?” she asked.

  The light left his eyes. “No.”

  “I accept,” she said. “But only with the last duty guaranteed.”

  “I can’t kiss you,” he said, his hand tightening around hers.

  “I can,” she replied. She leaned over. “I love you.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and smiled. Really, really smiled.

  “Ditto,” said the man of few words. But when her lips touched his, his expression could have filled a dictionary.

  EPILOGUE

  ATLANTA

  Kirke straightened Jake’s collar.

  He pushed back a curl, leaning down to kiss her neck as he did.

  “Mrs. Kelly,” he said, “you look beautiful.”

  “Beautiful,” agreed Merlin from the corner.

  “You look … delectable,” she replied.

  “Help!” squawked Merlin.

  “The only one who is going to need help is a parrot,” Jake said in mock threat.

  Merlin cackled.

  Kirke looked at his watch. She didn’t like watches when she wasn’t on duty, and she wouldn’t be, after tonight. Watches shouldn’t control one’s life, she believed.

  But now they really should go.

  She gave him one more look.

  He was wearing navy blue slacks, a light blue shirt, and a navy sports coat. No tie. She didn’t argue about that. She liked the way his shirt opened at the neck.

  She wore blue, as well. A simple dress with a flared skirt. She and Robin had shopped together, and both fell in love with it immediately.

  “Time to go,” she said.

  “I would rather do something else.”

  When his eyes looked at her like they were at this moment, she would, too. Their time would come, though. In just a few hours. Heat flooded her at the thought.

  But this was their wedding reception, and guests were waiting.

  The wedding had been held in a small chapel in Richmond. Their only attendants were Robin and Ben, but now they wanted to share their happiness and appreciation with everyone.

  Sam had returned to Atlanta, and he’d arranged to use the nightclub where he once again was playing the saxophone. It was the night when the club was usually closed, so they had it all to themselves. His band had volunteered to provide music.

  Cole and Mac had flown in, as well as Cole’s father, who’d helped so much when Jake had been released. Dallas, her husband, and her brother had agreed to come as well. Jake was paying their expenses.

  There were others: fellow paramedics, including Hal and young Ben Wright, who had fully recuperated; some old friends from the newspaper. The invitation list kept growing.

  Kirke couldn’t take her eyes off Jake. His hair was longer now, and he looked tan and fit, and he was, indeed, utterly delectable. He smiled more now. Not as much as she would like but certainly a vast improvement. He was more open as well. It had even been his idea to have the party. She’d been stunned. And delighted. In the past months he’d learned that everyone needed someone. Many someones. Friends were to be valued.

  Tonight was to be a celebration of many things: Jake’s exoneration, the subsequent wedding in Virginia, the coming together of friends who’d made it possible.

  The investigation that had followed Cox’s confession and the death of Ames Williamson had lasted four months. Jake had been in custody two of those months, and Kirke had taken a leave of absence to be at his side.

  Williamson’s cell phone had led authorities to the CIA official who had been assisting him for eight years, first in helping set up the mission, then in protecting him. He’d been the one who’d helped intercept phone calls between Robin and her husband. Williamson was easily able to get inside the storage facility; the security system posed few problems for someone trained in burglary techniques.

  The government had finally learned, too, that it had been Williamson who’d been leaking CIA secrets during the past six years, a leak now effectively plugged.

  And, as Ben had indicated, Jake had been in a great bargaining position. In an agreement with the government, his rank had been restored, and he was given an honorable discharge. He’d also been given all his back pay as well as an additional settlement. No official apology, but then Jake had never expected one.

  They were moving to Denver next week. Jake and Cole and Mac were pooling their resources and talents to start a personal protection agency. They would provide protection for businessmen and public figures throughout the world. A fitting business for men like these. But she’d decided not to join the business. There was a demand for paramedics, and she realized in the past weeks how much she’d missed it, how much satisfaction it gave her.

  She looked around the duplex. She would be leaving it forever this weekend. She’d sold it to Sam. He would rent out her side and use the income to repay her. He’d already found a tenant: the singer with the throaty voice. She wondered whether Sam and the singer would soon join the two sides. Part of her would miss it. It had been her refuge for many years.

  But now she had another one.

  As if he knew what she was thinking, he put his arms around her. “We’ll come back often.”

  A knock on the door. They parted, and she went to the door.

  Robin stood there with a smug look on her face. “Cut it out, you two. You have tonight and the rest of your lives. And believe me, it only gets better.”

  “I’m not sure how it could get better,” Jake said with a leer.

  “Ummmm,” Robin said. “You two are dangerous.”

  Jake put an arm around Kirke’s shoulder. “Come on, laggard, we have friends waiting.”

  She looked at him. For a loner, it was a miraculous statement.

  He winked at her.

  It was annoying how he read her mind. Beautifully annoying.

  Merlin saw her pick up her purse. “Bye-bye Merlin?”

  “Oh no,” she said. “Merlin’s going, too. Everyone wants to meet such a wonderful guard bird.”

  Jake chuckled. It was a very fine sound.

  He took her hand and brought it to his mouth and nuzzled it. “If anyone had told me a year ago I would be taking a parrot to my wedding reception, I would say they were nuts. Or something worse.”

  “But you make such a good stepfather,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss him. His dry humor was showing now, and she loved it. In fact, she was filled with such joy that she wanted to dance around the room. She would have to wait a few more moments for that.

  “Stepfather to a parrot,” he muttered.

  And, she hoped, soon to be a father. But that had to wait, too. He still had scars that had to heal.

  He lifted Merlin’s cage with one hand and took her hand with the other. “Let’s go celebrate our miracle,” he said.

  “Or two or three of them.”

  “You always have to get the last word.”

  “Oh yes,” she agreed, her hand tightening around his.

  Forever.

  About the Author

  Patricia Potter is a USA Today–bestselling author of more than fifty romantic novels. A seven-time RITA Award finalist and three-time Maggie Award winner, she was named Storyt
eller of the Year by Romantic Times and received the magazine’s Career Achievement Award for Western Romance. Potter is a past board member and president of Romance Writers of America. Prior to becoming a fiction author, she was a reporter for the Atlanta Journal and the president of a public relations firm in Atlanta. She lives in Memphis, Tennessee.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2008 by Patricia Potter

  Cover design by Mimi Bark

  ISBN: 978-1-5040-0407-7

  This edition published in 2015 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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