by Debra Webb
“We should go back to L.A.,” he said, still chuckling under his breath. “This really isn’t fun anymore, Olivia. We could stop, talk this out, get some sleep and head back later this morning. Not that getting away isn’t a good idea, but clearly there are issues here that need to be resolved.”
Looked like the truth wouldn’t wait.
“There are some papers in my bag. Two pages. Folded. Would you take a look at those, please?”
He heaved another of those long-suffering sighs. “If it makes you happy.” He clicked on the overhead interior light on his side of the compartment and dug around in her bag.
“Olivia.”
She cringed. Damn. She’d forgotten about the Beretta.
“There’s a gun in your purse.” His head came up; his gaze bored right through her. It wasn’t necessary to look at him. She could feel it. “Why is there a gun in your purse?”
“It’s for protection, Jeffrey. Lots of people have guns.” That sounded lame even to her.
“Why do you suddenly need protection? We live in the Hollywood Hills! If our zip code didn’t make you worry before, what’s changed? Was there a drive-by shooting I don’t know about? Was one of the neighbors burglarized? What’s going on, Olivia? We’ve never owned a gun before. I don’t understand this.”
“No drive-bys as far as I know,” she answered calmly, though she doubted her calmness would prevent his hysteria from escalating. “No burglaries or anything else out of the ordinary. This isn’t about where we live. Ignore the gun. What you need to see are the papers.”
Another of those long awkward moments of silence. Finally paper crinkled. She caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye as he unfolded the two pages Ned Soderbaum had given her at the pier what felt like an eternity ago.
Jeffrey made a sound of disbelief as he considered the grainy picture someone had taken of him leaving the lab facility where he worked.
“This is…” The second page derailed whatever he’d planned to say next.
The second page listed his name, address, occupation and a full physical description.
“What the hell is this, Olivia?”
She checked to ensure the doors were locked and pressed more firmly on the accelerator. She doubted he would attempt to escape the vehicle with her going eighty miles per hour, but she didn’t want to risk it. People reacted differently to extreme stress or fear. A perfectly intelligent man might turn irrational.
“Someone has ordered a hit on you, Jeffrey. Maybe someone from a competing facility.” She suggested the latter to lend more credibility to the statement. She remained doubtful that this was about him…more likely it was about who she used to be. But for now, both scenarios were still on the table.
Either way, this had something to do with her past. The only question in her mind was the motive. Why would anyone want to wake the dead now? After three years? It wasn’t as if she’d walked away with any secrets or intelligence that would benefit anyone in the spy business these days.
Still, her Sheara cover had not been reactivated for no reason. The idea that Ned Soderbaum didn’t exist and that he’d used an old enemy as his source indicated that the impetus ran deep, all the way back to the Agency.
And the Phantom.
The muscles of her face and neck instantly tightened. Even if he’d known she was still alive, why would he blow her new identity? It made no sense. She had nothing he wanted. He’d made that clear when he walked away leaving her with no one to back up her story. Leaving her to face a possible murder charge.
Deputy Director Hamilton was the only reason she had escaped that fate. Her former boss was the reason she had to get to Virginia ASAP.
“Olivia, this is no longer the slightest bit amusing or intriguing.” Jeffrey’s voice intruded into her disturbing thoughts. “Either you’re playing one hell of a bad joke on me or you’re empathizing with one or more of your patients a little too well. I’m really worried here.”
She tightened her fingers on the steering wheel and took the only option she had at the moment. “I’m sorry you’re worried. But you have to trust me on this, Jeffrey. We have to do this my way.”
He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “I’m certain you believe every word you’ve told me, but you’re not thinking rationally. Clearly you’re not yourself. We need assistance.”
Oh, hell. She’d run out of options. Olivia seized the weapon from her bag and pointed the business end in his general direction. She really hated to do this, but…“Put the phone in my bag, Jeffrey. Don’t ask any more questions. We’ll be in Memphis soon and then we’ll discuss the situation.” He didn’t have to know there wasn’t even a round in the chamber.
“Have you lost your mind? Put that thing away!”
So much for pulling off her former persona. If she couldn’t put the fear of God in Jeffrey, she was pretty much screwed.
She shoved the gun back into her bag. She wasn’t worried about Jeffrey attempting to grab it. He knew absolutely nothing about weapons.
“Let’s just not argue, okay?” She looked at him for as long as she dared with her speed hanging around eighty. “I have to do this. Can’t that be enough for now?”
The hesitation before he nodded had her holding her breath. “All right. We’ll figure this out when we get to Memphis.”
“Thank you.” His agreement most likely had more to do with his fear that she’d lost her mind completely than anything else, but she’d take it any way it came. She inhaled deeply and let the breath go, her mind and body weary. Four, maybe five more hours. She could hold out that long. It had been years since she’d pushed her body to perform without sleep. If she was lucky that was another old habit that would be easy to fall back into.
Contacting Hamilton was her only chance at getting to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on. If he couldn’t help her, then she was on her own.
Pulling off the interstate at a chain hotel just west of Memphis, Olivia finally let her body sag with relief. It was past 6:00 a.m. She’d been driving for twenty-four hours straight, only stopping for gas and bathroom breaks. She’d eaten a sandwich behind the wheel and she felt starved now, but that would have to wait. She needed sleep far more than food.
Jeffrey stretched as best he could in the seat as she parked in front of the hotel’s office. “I can take care of the room if you like.”
Under normal circumstances she would know that he was being considerate, but these circumstances were anything but normal. She couldn’t risk that he wanted an opportunity to call for help. He had unquestionably decided that she’d flipped out. If she were him, she’d likely think the same thing.
“That’s all right. I’ll get it.”
Still trusting of her despite her recent behavior, he didn’t have time to fathom her intent before it was too late, when she took his left hand.
She snapped the cuff into place, then fastened the matching one to the steering wheel.
“I’ll be right back.”
He jerked at the restraint. “Olivia! This is unconscionable! How could—”
“I’ll be right back,” she reiterated before grabbing her handbag and sliding out of the SUV. She was too damn tired to try to make him understand.
She didn’t bother looking back as she entered the lobby. She had his cell and, thankfully, Explorers weren’t equipped with anything like OnStar, so he wasn’t going to be making any calls. They hadn’t been followed, so she wasn’t worried about his safety.
“Good morning, ma’am.” The clerk offered her a smile, no matter that his shift was likely nearly at an end and he probably wanted to sleep as badly as she did.
“Morning. I’d like a room. Nonsmoking, two double beds, on the ground floor, please.”
He pecked a few keys on the computer keyboard. “Nothing like a lady who knows what she wants.” His smile widened to a grin. “That’s why I like my job. It’s always interesting.”
He had no idea. “And a wa
ke-up call,” she added as she placed her credit card on the counter.
“Gotcha.” He swiped her card. Handed it back to her along with a key card for the room. “What time you wanna get up, ma’am?”
“Ten.”
His eyebrows shot up. “A.m.?”
“Yes, please.”
“Lady, it’s six-thirty now. You wanna get up in three and a half hours?”
The young man had his mathematics down pat—too bad he couldn’t keep a handle on his professionalism. “Yes, that’s correct.”
His shoulders rose and fell. “Whatever floats your boat.” A few more key clicks. “You’re set.”
“Thank you.”
She could feel the man watching her as she exited the lobby, but she didn’t worry about that. Working a hotel on the interstate ensured that he saw more than his fair share of weary travelers. Long-distance travelers were usually in a hurry to get to their destinations: he wouldn’t be that surprised at her request. His reaction had more to do with flirting than anything else.
Olivia shook off the psychologist persona and zeroed in on her hostage, of sorts. He glared at her. It was plenty light enough for her to see that from quite a distance.
“Sorry about this, Jeffrey,” she offered as she released him.
He jerked his hand away once it was free of its metal bracelet. “I cannot believe you just did that.” His profile was set in stone, so unlike the man she knew so well. “I’ve been very forgiving so far, but I’m not so sure I’ll be able to forgive this brutal act.”
He so did not know the meaning of the word brutal.
“I understand.”
Why argue? It wouldn’t accomplish anything and she was too damn tired to really care what he thought at the moment. Unfortunately for him it was only going to get worse from here.
She drove around to the rear of the hotel, spotting their unit number near the middle of the building. She backed into the parking spot directly in front of the door, grabbed her handbag and got out.
Her passenger climbed out on the opposite side and, to his credit, he didn’t make a run for it. Rather, he took their two overnight bags from the cargo area and transported them into the room. She appreciated his gentlemanly act, which left her the Neiman Marcus bag to grab.
“Two beds?” He stared at her, confusion joining the mixture of other emotions currently cluttering his face when they’d entered the room.
“I wasn’t sure you’d feel comfortable sleeping with me under the circumstances.”
He dropped the bags near the chair and table on the east side of the room. “You have a point.” He kicked off his shoes and sat down on the end of the bed closest to the door. He studied her with mounting concern. “Make me understand what’s going on, Olivia. I’m worried about you.”
Olivia placed the shopping bag, as well as her purse, on the floor next to her bed, then sat down. She untied her hiking boots and toed them off.
For several minutes they both sat there, physically depleted and mentally distressed. There were so many aspects of this situation that she didn’t understand. None of it really made sense. She could imagine that it was even more confusing and shocking to Jeffrey. How did she make him understand what was happening when she wasn’t even sure?
“Olivia, please tell me what’s happened. You must know that I’ll try my best to understand and that I’ll help any way possible.” A small humorless laugh choked out of him. “Despite the fact that you pointed a gun at me. Handcuffed me, for Christ’s sake. But I care about you. Otherwise I’d be out of here instead of hanging around asking for more. Let me help you,” he urged.
Every word he said was true. No matter how shocking her actions, he wouldn’t dare leave her alone. He might try to call for help—for her—but he’d never abandon her, especially in a time of obvious distress. Unlike the last man with whom she’d shared a relationship.
She wanted to reassure Jeffrey by saying that everything was fine, but she wasn’t sure it ever would be again. She didn’t like doing this to him any more than he liked her doing it. Not that she was really in love with him…she wasn’t. She wasn’t sure she could love anyone. Not after…well, she wasn’t going there.
But she did care about Jeffrey. He was comfortable. Reliable. Familiar. Like a favorite old bathrobe. She knew exactly what to expect out of him. He was safe. She liked safe. Her current life was all about careful and…to be honest…boring. Boring was better than dangerous. She’d faced enough danger to last a dozen lifetimes.
“Jeffrey, everything I told you is the truth. There are things about my past that I can’t disclose, but you have to believe that I wouldn’t lie to you about anything like this.”
He scooted back on his bed and lay against the pillows, whether to put some distance between them or just to relax she couldn’t be sure. “I don’t think you’re lying. I hesitate to go so far as to call what I’ve witnessed in the past twenty-four hours delusional, but you must admit that it feels exactly like that…as if you’ve crossed some boundary. Are you certain there isn’t some stressor your mind is attempting to escape?”
There were stressors her mind wanted to escape rightly enough, but he was wrong on all other counts. How did she make a civilian understand how things worked in the world that had once been her life?
She didn’t. It was as simple as that. There were reasons that security measures were doled out on a need-to-know basis. In this instance, Jeffrey didn’t need to know any more than absolutely necessary to ensure his continued cooperation.
“You’re right, Jeffrey.” Might as well play along. Anything to get him to remain calm. “I’ve suffered a traumatic event. The man I’m going to see in Virginia is involved. I need to see this through.”
“Virginia?” A new kind of shock claimed his expression. “We’re going to Virginia?”
“We don’t have a choice.” Olivia curled up against her own pillows and met his gaze. “I need you to understand that my continued well-being hinges upon doing this. I need to be able to count on you.”
His gaze narrowed slightly. “Then what about the picture of me and the personal information? Are you saying you made that part up?”
She shook her head. “I believe that someone wants to hurt me and they’re trying to use you to get to me. It’s complicated. And dangerous.”
“I see.” He searched her eyes as if looking for any glimmer of deceit. His own reflected his worry, his need to take care of her. “You don’t think calling the authorities would be the best way to take care of this situation?”
“I have to do this myself. It’s very important.”
She hated this. Hated using his loyalty to what they’d shared these past nine months. Lies, lies, lies. She’d thought she was through with that way of life. The reality that she wasn’t churned in her stomach.
“We should try to sleep.” He yawned, gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll be able to think more clearly when we’ve rested. Whatever this is about, we’ll work it out.”
When his breathing had slowed to a deep, steady rhythm, she finally let herself relax fully. She wasn’t worried about him trying to run out on her. Like he said, he cared. He wouldn’t leave her.
How the hell had this happened? Now, after all this time?
She flopped onto her back and tried to reason out some part—any part—of this situation. There was no rhyme or reason to it.
For the first time since the insanity began she let herself think about him…the Phantom. Holt Landry. She closed her eyes and permitted the memories she’d kept tightly compartmentalized to rush over her.
They’d met on an assignment just over five years ago. A joint CIA/Interpol operation. She’d been charmed. He’d been relentless. They’d become lovers almost immediately. For two years they’d had an intense physical relationship. Like a fool, she’d fallen in love with him. She hadn’t planned it; it simply happened.
She and Landry hadn’t lived together as she and Jeffrey did, but their relation
ship had been far more powerful. On fire. She’d felt disconnected when separated from him, which was quite frequently.
Somehow he’d always made it worth her while when they were together again. No one had ever made love to her the way Landry had.
Damn him.
Those damn muscles in her face hardened again, clenching her teeth in a way that threatened to damage the enamel.
He’d stolen her heart and then he’d walked away when she needed him most.
Those last days after her final assignment came pouring into the thoughts already disturbing her sanity. She’d killed an innocent man. But he’d been her target! She’d had orders. Orders Landry could have confirmed when the Agency denied the operation.
Instead, Landry had disappeared, leaving her to face the consequences alone. She hadn’t done anything wrong. Followed orders, that was all. CIA-sanctioned orders. But she couldn’t prove it. She’d been the scapegoat for whoever had decided the target needed to die. End of story.
If it hadn’t been for her faithful friend and deputy director, she would have gone to prison, or worse. Rogue agents disappeared quite frequently. Quietly terminated to ensure the world never learned their secrets.
But Hamilton had taken care of her. He’d faked her death and convinced all involved that she was indeed dead. No one had ever come looking for her…until now.
To her knowledge, Hamilton was the only person on Earth who knew that she was alive.
Had he betrayed her? For what reason? And why use Jeffrey to lure her out of hiding? If he knew where she was, why set up such an unnecessary ruse?
Even Hamilton hadn’t known her new identity or her location. He’d wanted it that way. She’d set up her new life. No one she’d ever associated with or ever known had been in on it. She’d walked away from everything and everyone.
Hamilton was her only connection to the past. Had he sold her out to Landry?
That theory didn’t seem reasonable. There was nothing to gain. Even the CIA’s top brass wouldn’t likely care if they learned she was alive at this point. The political repercussions of her actions three years ago had gone out with the former White House administration. No one in the new administration would give a damn, as far as she could see.
