by Lynne Silver
Blindly, he slapped on a set of protective ear muffs and yanked the target pulley to the proper spot. Three shots in, the pain from his broken ribs numbed out as he entered a zone. His body fired the weapon on autopilot, while his mind flashed to the dusty box. What was in those letters that Rowan thought they might help? It was second nature to lock the gun in the cabinet and return the rest of the equipment then he jogged back to his apartment.
The box was right where he’d left it, and now he carefully pried off the dusty lid and tossed it on the floor. There were letters, around a dozen or so, all in envelopes with a name on the front. He recognized the handwriting. His mom’s. He’d been reading through a similar box of epistles since age fifteen, only all of those had his father’s name on the envelope. These all bore the name Adam.
His hand shook a little as he reached for the top letter, remembering his first night at the Program. He’d sat up all night reading the stack of letters his mom had given to him. Those were for his father. These were for him.
Dear Adam,
You left last night and the house is so quiet I don’t know what to do. I always teased that we never knew if you were home or not, you were so quiet compared to Rowan. Well, you’re not home, and believe me, we know. Rowan’s pretending not to miss you. He’s angry, Adam. Someday we’ll have to explain.
Mom
He shuffled through a few of the letters, scanning them. Until he got to the final one, written, he recognized by the date at the top, a few days before her death.
Dear Adam,
I should’ve swallowed my pride. Love is all you have. Fight for it.
He stumbled to the bed, clutching the precious box in his arms. Tears blurred his vision. Agony at finding a long-lost piece of his mother combined with confusion and emotion at his tenuous relationship with Loren, his match. But only if he agreed.
He read through some more letters, letting the tears fall freely now, and then the words stopped penetrating. Instead, visions like a movie played in his mind. Of Rowan fighting an attacker at Paulson’s clinic, quickly followed by the image of Rowan shooting his target with deadly accuracy. All singlehanded, of course. And then the movie shifted to Loren lying helpless on the bed in Paulson’s clinic and his terror at seeing her there.
Shit, he was an idiot. Make that a stubborn blind idiot. His mother was right. Love was all he had. If he let Loren go out of fear, he’d be losing a part of himself. The most important part.
And Shep was wrong. He and Loren had one hundred percent odds of creating a perfect child, because it would be their child. Hell, he should have kids just to hold a little girl with Loren’s curls and maybe his eyes. A shiver of fear caught him at the thought of a child missing a limb, but for the first time ever Adam concentrated on that image and gauged his reaction.
Nothing. No disgust or hate for the child or self-pity. Instead, love bloomed at the vision of Loren holding their child, basking in his love.
He had to tell her. Now. This minute… He practically burst with his need to see her, hold her and kiss her. He sprinted out of his apartment building and blinked in the summer sunshine. Both the glare of the sun and the screaming pain in his ribs stopped him from sprinting the entire compound in search for Loren. She’d been walking nearly an hour. The campus wasn’t that big, he’d find her sooner or later. Hopefully sooner.
He had to think. Clearly and rationally. She’d eventually make her way back to her house or his apartment, so if he waited by the flagpole at the crest of the hill, he’d see her, whichever direction she chose. He walked at as fast a clip as he could manage, gritting his teeth against the pain each step caused. Hunger and exhaustion gnawed at him also. Shep had pushed to admit him to their doctor’s care, but he’d refused, not wanting to go anywhere near a medical facility.
When he made it to the flagpole, he leaned against the sun-warmed metal and scanned the campus for Loren. There.
She was coming up the path heading toward her own loaner cottage. “Loren,” he called, but she didn’t respond. The light summer breeze carried his voice away from her hearing range. He watched her for a few minutes to ensure she was entering her cottage and not heading elsewhere, and then he started down the path to meet her.
He reached her front door just as it slammed shut behind her. He waited a second to enter so he wouldn’t open the door and slam Loren in the back. She whirled to see who followed her into the house and visibly relaxed when she saw it was him, but then tensed as something in his expression must have given his tumultuous thoughts away.
“Adam,” she said, “you startled me. What’s going on?”
He stepped toward her then stopped, knowing he couldn’t touch her until he’d said his piece. “I’m an idiot.”
She cocked her head and narrowed her eyes.
“I was at the range. With Rowan. We were shooting.” God, he was rambling, like he always seemed to when he had something really emotional to say. Give him a twenty-step operation to detail, and he’d be fine. Ask him to say a few simple words about love, and he started blathering. “I’m trying to say, I was wrong.”
“About what?” Loren asked gently.
“About love, about kids. About having kids with you. Rowan’s not handicapped. I mean, he’s missing his arm, but it doesn’t stop me from loving him or him having a full life.”
A blinding smile spread across Loren’s face and her eyes got shiny with tears.
“Don’t cry.”
She sniffed. “I can’t help it.” Then her smile faded. “How do I know this is real? A few hours ago you were convinced you couldn’t be a husband or father. It was too risky. What changed?”
“Rowan and my mother helped me.”
“Your mother?” Loren looked concerned that he was really losing it, and Adam swallowed a hysterical laugh, because when one’s world shifted on its axis, it did feel as if one were going bonkers.
“I know it seems crazy, but my mom wrote me a bunch of letters. That’s what was in the box Rowan gave me. She wrote how much she loved my father and how I shouldn’t be scared of love. She meant it, Loren. She really meant it. And then I thought about having a child and I tried to imagine her without a limb. And I didn’t care. I still loved her.”
The smile was back on Loren’s gorgeous face. “Her?” she asked.
He nodded. “With blonde curls like yours.”
A sob crossed with laughter burst out of her and she stepped into his arms that he opened to latch on to her, the best thing that had ever happened to him. He murmured love words into her hair as she buried her face against his chest. Then she surprised them both with a huge yawn. It was contagious and his mouth also split in a yawn.
“I’m running on fumes,” she said. “I haven’t slept properly since you left for London.”
“I’m about dead on my feet also,” he admitted.
Arm in arm they walked to the bedroom, toed off their shoes and collapsed under the covers. Within minutes they were both sound asleep, curled tightly against each other.
Three days later
“Mom. We’re here.” Loren pulled the key out of the front door and looked around the familiar home she’d grown up in. “I’m sure she’ll be right out since she’s expecting us.” She smiled at Jonathan Keel who’d practically begged to come with her to see her mom. She’d wanted to bring Adam to introduce her mom to her man, but he’d been forced to work.
The past few days had been beyond blissful, despite the piles of work they were doing to unearth Paulson from the hole he’d crawled into. She’d given notice at her apartment, and in three weeks, she’d officially move onto the Program compound. She’d deal with her job at The Post tomorrow.
It took ten steps to make it from the front door to the airy, open kitchen where she dropped the bags onto the kitchen counter with a thunk. Haagen Dazs mint-chocolate-chip and vanilla yogurt made it into the freezer while she continued talking loudly to her absent mother. “They were out of your favorite sesame noodles,
so I brought cabbage salad. Hope that’s okay.”
She smiled as her mom suddenly entered the kitchen to greet them. She glanced at her mother’s face and was reminded of all the past history. Her mom had to be nervous and a bit rattled at seeing this significant visitor from her past.
“Mr. Keel,” Loren said. “You remember my mother. Mom, I don’t think you need an introduction, do you?”
Keel strolled to the bar-height counter connecting the living room with the kitchen. “I’m thrilled to see you again, Julia.” He brushed her cheek with his lips.
Her mom gave a small smile to Keel then came over to wrap her up in her arms. Despite being taller now, her mom had always seemed larger than life, like a protective wall against all the bad life dealt out.
“This was such a surprise, hearing you wanted to see me again,” Mom said to Keel. “After I married Robert, I worried we’d parted on poor terms.”
Keel said, “I’ll admit I was hurt, but enough years have passed that the wound is gone.”
Mom nodded, but Loren could tell she was rattled.
“I’m glad. Shall we eat?” Mom gestured to the table set with thick earthenware pottery and colorful glass tumblers.
*
“Adam.”
He looked up as Gavin entered the gym with an uncharacteristically sober expression. “I’m here. What’s up?”
“Got a second?”
He practically tossed his hand weight onto the rack and followed Gavin out into the bright sunshine. “Did you get a lock on something?”
Gavin nodded and held out a printout of a column of cities and phone numbers along with usage time.
“Is this what I think it is?” Adam asked, hoping it was a clue about who on the compound was their mole.
“Yeah.” He huddled over the paper and pointed out one call highlighted in neon yellow. “This call was made to a London number. It took a bit of digging to find it but this is our best clue.”
He met Gavin’s direct gaze. “How does one phone call give proof?”
“Anyone with half a brain would get a prepaid phone with no contract and no damn way for me to track it. I’m guessing this one phone call is the result of panic. Look at the date.”
Adam squinted then let out a breath as he saw the date was the same day he’d been tied up in Paulson’s fertility clinic. “Shit.”
“It’s our best lead. And look at this. There are several calls to here. Nice place to retire, huh?”
His stomach took a figurative fist to the gut. “What are you getting at? Who set me up?”
Gavin swallowed before answering. “Keel. These calls are from Keel’s cell.”
The churning in his gut increased to the point of pain. Without a plan, he sprinted out of the building and toward his apartment to grab his car keys. Gavin ran about half a foot behind.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“Keel. Loren. He drove her to have lunch at her mom’s house.”
“Shit.” Gavin summed it up. “Go to Loren’s. I’ll man the operations center. Loren’s fine, Adam. We’ll bring her back safely.”
He didn’t answer, only picked up his speed to his apartment. Within seven minutes, he was on the road heading toward Virginia. Thank God Loren had left the address in case he got off work early and could join them.
The farther out of the city Adam drove, the more verdant his surroundings became, but he barely noticed. All his concentration was on getting to Loren’s. He repeatedly dialed the number of her cell phone they’d finally returned to her, but she didn’t answer. Why the hell hadn’t he insisted she leave her mom’s phone number with him?
Gavin was having no luck tracking Mrs. Stanton’s number down.
“Totally unlisted. Remember, her husband was one of us, living off campus.”
“Shit.” He banged a palm against the steering wheel and pressed harder on the accelerator. A quick glance at his GPS told him he was less than a quarter mile from the house. Assuming she was there, of course. She could be anywhere if their suspicions about Keel were true. He tried to calm himself by pointing out that Keel had no reason to harm Loren. But something about the situation was off. He should’ve suspected when Keel had invited himself along to Loren’s lunch with her mom. Sure, the older man and her mom used to date, but that had been thirty years ago. Why contact her now, unless he had other motivations.
Adam had never been particularly religious, but he found something close to a prayer winding its way around his head. Please let her be there and be safe.
He let the car decelerate as he neared the turn-off for Loren’s mother’s home and glared at the cozy picture the ramshackle, ranch-style house made, a world away from his generic government-issued housing. Hand-painted birdhouses swung merrily from low tree limbs and a lawn that needed a serious mow surrounded a gravel and dirt driveway. He even thought he’d spotted a glimpse of a wooden tree house perched among the branches of a distant tree.
Adam parked and leaped out of the car to the front door. One knock. Then another before a voice acknowledged him from the inside.
“Hello?”
Apparently Mrs. Stanton didn’t receive much in the way of company, and she’d learned a thing or two about caution from her militant husband.
“I’m Adam Blacker, ma’am. Is Loren here?”
The door swung open and an older version of Loren smiled at him from the doorway. “I’m glad you could come for lunch. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but lunch ended a few minutes ago. Loren and Jonathan already left.”
A fear like he’d never known gripped Adam right in his gut. This was almost worse than seeing Loren strapped to Paulson’s gurney. He wanted to enter the home and demand answers, but things would go a lot easier if he gained Mrs. Stanton’s trust first.
He strived for a calm tone when he spoke. “Mrs. Stanton. Do you know where they went? Certain suspicions have come to light regarding Jonathan Keel and I’m scared witless he means to harm her.”
The older woman’s smile sagged into shock and she stepped back to allow the door to swing wide open. He wasted no time and entered the home, scanning the entry for any clues. Worry was plastered on the older woman’s face. “Jonathan was a special friend of mine before I met Robert. Do you really suspect him of harming Loren?”
He had no choice but to nod then reach for Mrs. Stanton when she collapsed, covering her eyes with two hands to catch streaming tears. “Oh God, I should’ve known. Why else would he have contacted me after all this time? I sent my baby into danger.”
Time was of the essence, but he had to spare a moment to calm her and learn everything that had happened since he’d last seen Loren. He crouched down beside her. “Mrs. Stanton…Julia. I need your help. Please stop crying and tell me exactly what happened…everything Keel said.”
Her tear-streaked face, so similar to Loren’s, looked up and her hand grabbed his forearm. “You’re going to find her. Right?”
He nodded. “I love your daughter and will do anything and everything in my power to get her back safely.”
It took all his willpower not to pound his fist into the wall, and he steadied his voice. “I’m going to make some calls to loop in my team. There’s a chance our suspicions are wrong, since we don’t know yet why Keel wants Loren. It’s possible they’re pulling safely into the campus and he came for lunch simply because he missed you.”
“I hope so,” Julia said. “Lunch was pleasant, I wouldn’t have suspected anything.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Gavin.
“Gavin. It’s me. I’m at Julia Stanton’s home.” He paused and listened as Gavin reported that Keel was not answering his cell phone. “Shit. Time is critical. Start tracking his car or cell phone.”
“Already on it,” Gavin replied. “You’re not going to like this.”
He didn’t respond. There was much about the situation he didn’t like.
“Keel’s car is on the Dulles Access Road.” All Program cars ca
me equipped with special equipment similar to LoJack.
His knees actually wobbled a bit. Shit had become more critical. If Keel made it to the airport and out of the country with Loren, then getting her back would be that much harder. “I’m twenty minutes away from Dulles and heading out now.”
“A team is on its way.”
“I want my brother on the team.” He could hear Shep shouting out orders in the background, most of them dealing with getting someone to Keel’s house to search it. He agreed with that decision completely. Something dangerous was going on, and at this point in the game, he had little to no information. It made no sense that Keel would abduct Loren. Unless…unless Keel was in contact with Paulson and they still wanted her.
“Gavin, call me with any updates, and can Shep call in favors? Have him try to stop any outgoing private planes leaving from Dulles.” He hung up and started to leave to get in his car and go after Keel and Loren.
“I’m going with you.” Mrs. Stanton took a step toward the door, arms folded across her chest. Adam reminded himself to never rouse a feisty mother by threatening her cub.
He nodded and warned, “It could be dangerous, and I’m sadly under-armed right now. I want a goddamn arsenal and I only have one gun.”
She disappeared for a quick minute and returned holding an old rifle, maybe her husband’s old one, judging by the age of the weapon. “Take mine.”
He hefted the weapon, checked it and approved. “Let’s go.”
As soon as both he and Mrs. Stanton were buckled into his car, his cell rang.
Gavin again. “Shep put in a call. They’ve agreed to delay private jets and look for a man fitting Keel’s description.” He hung up.
Adam appreciated Gavin’s speed and lack of chitchat. Every second Loren spent with Keel, was a second going further away from safety. A hated sense of helplessness invaded his very pores and he could offer nothing in the way of comfort to poor Julia Stanton who’d lost a husband and now possibly a daughter.
No. He couldn’t think like that. Loren was alive and he’d get her back. Except he hadn’t felt such anxiety, even when he’d been tied, trussed and beaten by Paulson’s goons.
