Cold Truth: (Cold Harbor Book 2)

by Susan Sleeman

  He signaled for Jackson to stay up top on overwatch, and Coop headed down the stairs. One foot in front of the other, he swung his rifle over the area with each step. He reached the bottom. Took another long look. No wallpaper, but a door in the back.

  Another room?

  The urge to move toward it was nearly overpowering, but he went from desk to desk and looked underneath to clear them. He wasn’t about to take a slug to the back. He checked the last one, then signaled for Jackson to join him. Coop focused his rifle up on the landing, having Jackson’s back as he descended.

  Together they made their way to the door. Coop motioned for Jackson to open it. It swung open. Coop rushed in and ran his scope over the room. Empty, save empty water bottles, food wrappers, and discarded zip ties.

  His gut tightening, Coop lifted his scope to the wall. The wallpaper became clear in his scope.

  Diamonds.

  Coop’s heart dropped into his stomach. They were too late. Kevin was gone, and Coop would have to tell Kiera that he’d failed her.

  Two hours had passed, and Kiera sat on the sofa, her phone in her hand, willing it to ring. She was desperate to hear from Coop. Desperate to hear he was safe and that he’d freed Kevin.

  Coop said it wouldn’t take long. That he’d call. But he hadn’t called, and Kiera was about to lose it. Really lose it. Sure, she’d been on the verge before, otherwise how could she explain her behavior at Henry’s house, but now? Now she couldn’t deal. No matter how many times Hannah had assured all would be well. No matter how many times Kiera prayed.

  Nothing—nothing—could ease the ache in her gut. The terror in her mind.

  “God, please,” she prayed. “Please don’t let this delay mean something bad has happened. I’m sorry. I don’t deserve your help. Not at all, but Kevin does. Coop does. The team does.”

  She heard a car pull up outside.

  Kevin. He was here!

  She ran to the door. Flung it open. Saw the team in the vehicle and Coop step out. His gaze went to hers. The pain in his eyes reflected the anguish in her own heart.

  “No.” She ran forward. “No. Where’s Kevin?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, we don’t have him.”

  “Dead?” She screamed. “Is he dead?”

  “No, no. He wasn’t there.”

  Her legs could no longer hold her, and she dropped to the gravel, the sharp stones a welcome pain instead of the pain in her heart. She lifted her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, rocked, and let the tears she’d been fighting flow. They rolled down her face, the burning tears cooled by the crisp night air.

  She heard footsteps receding and didn’t care enough to look up to see what was going on. She felt so alone. Her twin. The person she’d counted on every day of her life was still missing. Maybe dead.

  How can you allow that Father? How?

  Someone lowered their body to the ground in front of her. She sensed it was Coop, and when his big hands came over hers to remove them from her legs and lifted her onto his lap, she knew it was him. She felt his presence. Felt his matching anguish. He cradled her in his arms and took over the rocking.

  “I’m so sorry, honey,” he whispered against her hair. “I wanted him to be there as badly as you did. But we were too late.”

  Late. Too late. “Wait, Kevin had been there?”

  “Yes. We found cut zip ties and the wallpaper.”

  She pulled back, hope blossoming in her heart. “But we were right. Sort of. It was just another dead end. But we were right and the building address could be the information we’re supposed to enter in the website to get another lead.”

  “Maybe,” Coop said, but she could tell he didn’t buy into her theory.

  “It makes sense. Kevin’s abductor gave us the lead but moved him before we could get to him.”

  “That’s possible.”

  “It can’t hurt to check out the site. To enter the address in the box, right? We have nothing else to enter.” She pushed free of his arms and tried to stand, but her leg muscles were still weak.

  Coop got up and supported her. “There’s no point in entering it now. Not when we have six hours left.”

  “Right. But we’ve run out of leads. What can we possibly do now?”

  “The first thing is to get some rest and let us work on it. You didn’t sleep at all last night and you’re exhausted.”

  “You didn’t sleep either.”

  “We’re often up all night on the job, and I’m used to it. You’re not.” He circled an arm around her shoulders and led her to the car. It was with a heavy heart that she settled inside.

  “I hate to do this, but I need to store my equipment before heading to the cabin.”

  “No problem. I’ll help. It’ll give me something else to think about.”

  At the training facility, they got out. He hung his rifle over his shoulder and a long rope with big hooks over the other before picking up a tote bag. “If you can grab that other one, we can do this in one trip.”

  She picked up the smaller bag and followed him inside. He flipped on the light and they wound down aisles of chairs to a door in the back. He punched in a code on a lock. She should probably have averted her eyes, but she saw him hit 07198 and the lock snapped open.

  “I’m sorry about this stop,” he said. “But we don’t like to leave any weapons unsecured for even a minute. That’s how accidents happen.”

  She nodded. “My dad keeps a handgun at the house. He made all of us take a basic safety course and learn to fire it.”

  “If you’re gonna own guns, it’s good for everyone to be familiar with them and know the safety rules.”

  “You keep your handgun with you, right?”

  He nodded. “I live alone, or I would have a gun safe.”

  He stowed his rifle on a wall rack holding numerous weapons, and she couldn’t imagine the team would need them all at one time. This world was totally foreign to her, but she appreciated that there were men and women who dedicated themselves to fight for others.

  He hung up his vest, unpacked the tote bags, and placed various equipment pieces that she couldn’t identify in cabinets.

  “Gage is a stickler for keeping everything in order.” He smiled. “Not that it’s a hardship for the rest of us. Most of us know the drill from our time in the military. And even if we didn’t, we respect the outlay of money he put into the gear and will do our part to take care of it.”

  She stood back and enjoyed watching him work, but he soon finished and they drove back to the cabin.

  “You should go straight to bed.” He closed the door behind them.

  “I’m going to sit for a minute and have a glass of water.”

  “You sit.” He took her jacket and hung it up. “I’ll get the water.”

  His kindness was nearly her undoing. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying and took a seat on the couch. He soon came over with the water, sat next to her, and held the drink out. She settled her hand on the cool glass, and he wrapped his long fingers around hers.

  “Please know that I haven’t given up on locating Kevin. I will find him for you, honey. You can count on that.”

  Honey. He’d used that endearment a few times now, but did it mean anything? Anything significant? Not likely. She pulled her hand free. After a long drink, she set the glass on the table. Suddenly too weary to get up and go to bed, she leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes.

  A few minutes later, she felt warm hands tugging on her elbow, and she lifted her heavy lids. Coop had settled against the sofa back and was drawing her into the crook of his arm. She tried to fight it, but gave in and let him pull her close. Just for a moment. That’s all. She needed only a moment of comfort.

  He shifted until her cheek rested against his chest, and she could hear the solid thump of his heart. She should get up. Go to bed. But she couldn’t move.

  “Let go, honey,” he whispered against her hair. “Go to sleep. I’ve got you, an
d I promise to wake you if anything develops.”

  She closed her eyes, and in the secure curve of his arm, she could believe—despite the odds facing them—that everything would be all right.

  16

  From the living area the next morning, Coop watched Kiera sitting in the easy chair, legs crossed. Today, she wore dark jeans, a tan shirt, and athletic shoes. She’d been clutching her phone in a death grip, her focus fixed on it since the moment she’d gone to the website and entered the building address in the box about thirty minutes ago. She looked tired, exhausted actually, despite falling asleep in his arms last night. He’d watched her every breath for hours, trying to figure out what he was going to do about his feelings for her.

  She was so wrong for him. She understood what it felt like to have love and to love in return. She had a wonderful family. A wealthy family. And what did he have? A sister he’d failed to protect. A father he never spoke to. A heart that hadn’t known love since his mother had cozied up to her first gin bottle. His only long-term relationship was with Waverly, and it was clear that he hadn’t loved her and their time together had been a colossal failure.

  So what made him believe he could possibly even date Kiera, much less form a relationship with her? Just because he would do anything to erase the pain in her eyes? Was that a basis for a relationship?

  He sure didn’t think so.

  Still, he wanted to help her, but not by holding her again. That would only mislead her. Maybe breakfast would help.

  “You should eat something,” he said. “I’ll scramble some eggs for you.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She didn’t look up at him. “I doubt I can eat anything.”

  “It would still be good for you to try.” He headed for the kitchen. He was surprised when he heard her footsteps behind him.

  “Let me help,” she said.

  “Sure.” He took eggs from the refrigerator and set them on the counter, then grabbed a loaf of bread. “Some toast would be good with the eggs.”

  He held out the bread. She looked at her phone. At the loaf. Stood without moving.

  He set down the package and pried the phone from her hand. “We can put this right here by the toaster. You can hear it ring from there as well as from your hand.”

  A skeptical looked crossed her face, but she nodded and picked up the loaf of bread. He stepped back to crack the eggs, but continued to check on her. She inserted bread into the toaster, her gaze darting back to her phone. He totally understood her fixation with the device. If he were in her shoes, he’d be doing the same thing.

  The warm smell of bread toasting filled the air, and he set to work cooking the eggs until they were fluffy. He plated them and handed one to Kiera.

  “These look perfect.” She added a piece of buttered toast and snatched up her phone. “I guess I can add cooking to your many abilities.”

  “Not really.” He grabbed a slice of toast. “This is the extent of my cooking skills. Unless you count microwaving frozen meals as cooking. If so, I’m a master.”

  He smiled at her. She sat, and a wan smile crossed her face. The best he could hope for in this situation, and he considered his effort a success. He took his plate to the small table and returned for silverware. He thought he might need to pry her phone from her hand again, but she set it down and picked up the toast. She took a bite, a nibble really, but at least she was trying.

  “Why doesn’t he call back?” The anguish in her tone cut Coop to the quick. “Was I wrong about the clue? Or doesn’t he want to play the game anymore? What is he up to?”

  “Seems to me that he’s trying to torment you. He wins if you let it get to you. Try to relax.”

  “Easy for you to say. You have no idea how this feels.”

  “You’re right. I don’t know. But I do understand how it feels to have a sibling in jeopardy.”

  She forked a bite of eggs. “You never mentioned having a brother or sister.”

  “I don’t.” He hadn’t talked about Jennie with anyone since she died. Unless, of course, yelling at his mother was considered talking about Jennie. If it was, he’d talked hard. But really discuss how he felt about it after rushing off to join the army and taking his anguish out in boot camp and in various conflicts across the globe? That he hadn’t done. And he wasn’t sure he could do it now.

  “So how can you understand?” She dropped her fork and peered at her phone.

  He didn’t want to talk about Jennie, but maybe if he did, he could help Kiera. “I had a sister. Jennie. She died when I was eighteen.”

  “Oh, Coop, I’m sorry.” Kiera covered his hand with hers.

  Her sympathy felt like a salve on an open wound, and he had to swallow hard to erase the emotion from his tone. “I told you about my mom’s problem with drinking. One night when I was on a date, she was drunk but ran out of booze and decided to go to the store for more. Jennie was fourteen—asleep in her bed. Mom left a cigarette burning in an ashtray sitting on the sofa. The sofa caught fire. Spread to the drapes. The walls. The neighbors called it in, but by the time the firefighters got there, Jennie had succumbed to smoke inhalation.”

  He curled his fingers around the fork and wanted to stab it into anything and everything he could reach. “I came home to find the house a mass of charred embers, and my mom sitting on the curb, a gin bottle in her hand as usual. She told me about Jennie. Just matter-of-factly like she’d lost an intimate object. No tears. No grieving. No pain.”

  “Oh, Coop, how awful.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

  “Yeah, it was.” He took a long breath. “Two days later, I buried my sister in the morning, and in the afternoon I enlisted in the Army. I never saw or spoke to my mother again.”

  “You really do understand how the thought of losing Kevin is tearing me apart.”

  “Yeah, I mean I don’t understand the twin part. That’s got to make it even harder on you.”

  She nodded. “I can’t explain what it’s like to be a twin. If you’re not one, you don’t understand. We don’t have that whole thing where you can physically feel each other’s pain, but we often do get a feeling when the other one is in emotional pain. I still can’t believe I didn’t feel anything when Kevin had been abducted.” As if realizing she was still touching Coop, she pulled her hand free.

  She glanced at the phone. “Do you regret not having spoken to your mother after your sister died?”

  “Regret? Maybe…I don’t know. I rarely think about it. ”

  “You’ve buried it.”

  “Yeah, and it’s stayed buried.” He ran a hand over his face. “Until I met you.”

  Her eyes softened. “I’m sorry that this thing with Kevin has brought it all back up for you.”

  “It might be a good thing. Who knows. Maybe it’s something I need to deal with,” he added, surprising himself.

  He’d never wanted to think about his mother, much less speak of her. But somehow it felt right telling Kiera. “I know alcoholism is a disease, and my mom was sick. But back then, I didn’t understand how she could choose that bottle over Jennie and me.”

  “I can’t even imagine the pain.”

  “I’m glad of that. No kid deserves it. If I ever had my own kids, I’d make sure they knew how much I loved them.”

  “Do you want to have kids?”

  “Kids…Me? Yeah, I do, I guess, but being married to make that happen? Nah, that’s not in the cards for me. I’m not good at the long-term relationship thing.” He suddenly wished that wasn’t true. “You seem like the kind of person who wants a family.”

  “Someday. Sure. But right now I’m too busy building my own life to get involved with someone.”

  He felt the same way, but had to admit it hurt to hear her say it when he believed she was interested in him. “In what way?”

  “I know this will be hard for you to understand, but there’s such a thing as too much attention from a parent.”

  News to him. “How so?”

  �
�When I was a kid, I had severe asthma. My parents coddled me, especially my mother. Kept me from doing things I wanted to do.” She sighed. “Actually, smothered me is a great way to describe it. Ironic, right? Since I couldn’t breathe from the asthma. And there was the whole twin thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love Kevin and love having a twin, but forming your own identity is hard. Teachers…other kids... kind of see you as one entity. Where one goes, the other should follow sort of thing.”

  “That would be hard.”

  “Yeah, it was. Nothing like what you experienced, but difficult. When we finished our doctoral degrees, I decided we needed space to see who we were alone.”

  “How’d Kevin feel about that?”

  “He’s the kind of person who doesn’t need much from others. From me either. He was into his work and was good with the change.”

  “And how are you doing on your own?”

  “Fine, I mean good actually. My life is everything I want right now. Until this.” She frowned. “If I hadn’t been so selfish about finding myself, I would’ve been working in the same lab. Maybe if I’d been there for him, I could have foreseen this and stopped it.”

  “Hey, come on, now.” He leaned closer and made strong eye contact. “It’s not your fault at all. You have every right to be an independent person.”

  “I know that up here.” She tapped her forehead. “But in my heart? That’s where I feel like I’ve let Kevin down.”

  Coop sat back. “I get that. I feel the same way about Jennie. I still wish I could go back and fix it.” His heart creased with pain he hadn’t felt in years. The same raw pain as the night of her death.

  “Like you just said. You’re not to blame. I can’t erase your guilt, but I understand.” Kiera slid closer and took both of his hands in hers. “If you need me, I’m here for you.”

  He looked into her eyes. Deep into the depths of compassion. Her caring. Not for anyone. For him and him alone.

  He tugged her closer, released her hands, and scooped her onto his lap. Her eyes widened, the surprise and shock of emotions rolling through her changing expression.