by Dawn Atkins
Turning back to Jed, Zoë saw the kind of hard expression that she’d often imagined on Lucifer’s face, and she could feel his tension as if it was her own.
Ryder was the only person in the room who was smiling. He held up a hand as he approached the kitchen. “Relax. Sometimes Muhammad doesn’t have to go to the mountain. The mountain comes to him. Plus, Ms. Montgomery comes bearing gifts.”
“So did the Greeks,” Jed said in a cold voice, never taking his gaze off Bailey.
Zoë stared at Jed, becoming more and more aware of the change in him. This wasn’t the laid-back man with the lazy sense of humor that she’d known as Jed Calhoun.
“This time the gift is those files we were going to break into her office to get,” Ryder said. “She’s got those and more.”
Jed said nothing.
“I suppose you’d like an apology.” Bailey walked forward until she was standing only a few feet away from Jed. The tall man remained at her side.
“For shooting me and leaving me in that alley? When would you like that?”
Tension snapped between the two of them, and Zoë drew in a quick breath as the tall stranger stepped in between Bailey and Jed. Another realization joined the little tornado whirling in her head. Bailey Montgomery was the assassin Jed had told her about. She couldn’t help picturing it again in her mind, and the image made her stomach roll.
But he hadn’t been killed. He was here and safe. And he was Lucifer, the man she’d had a crush on for months. How many times had she pored over the details surrounding Frank Medici’s death—Lucifer’s meeting with him in that bar, the suspicious timing of the explosion? The evidence had all pointed to Lucifer being the assassin. But it hadn’t made any sense, not once you looked at the man’s history. She’d told Hadley Richards that Lucifer couldn’t possibly have killed Frank Medici.
She was still trying to get her mind around the knowledge that Lucifer and Jed were the same man, and the spinning in her head was making her dizzy. She had to work to focus on the conversation.
“If she’d wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here,” the tall man was saying. “I should have trusted my instincts on that. I trained her.”
“Are you saying she bungled it on purpose?” Jed asked.
“I’m saying more than that. She not only didn’t kill you, she arranged for you to be taken to that hospital, and she also arranged for the papers to get you out of the country,” the man said.
“So she says,” Jed commented.
“I’m not proud of what I did,” Bailey said. “My only defense was that if I’d refused the job, Hadley Richards would have sent someone else.”
“Hadley Richards authorized you to kill me?” Jed asked.
“The director authorized it and Hadley gave me the assignment. To take you out was the phrase he used,” Bailey said. “You’d killed a valued agent and betrayed your country for money.”
“I believe her,” the man said.
“I’m inclined to believe her, also,” Ryder said. “You should at least listen to her side of the story. Why don’t we sit down, pool our information and see if we can make some sense out of this?” He moved farther into the kitchen. “I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee.”
“Not quite yet,” Bailey said. “I’m not sharing any more information until someone tells me what she’s doing here.” When Bailey turned toward Zoë, so did everyone else in the room.
“Me?” The spinning in Zoë’s head had centered right behind her eyes.
“She’s a friend of mine,” Jed said.
Bailey turned to him. “Did you know that she’s the one who wrote the reports that fingered you as Frank Medici’s assassin and show how the money that the Vidal drug ring paid for the hit can be traced to a bank in the Caymans in your name?”
“No.” The one word was all Zoë could manage.
Bailey patted her bag. “I’ve got the reports with me. They’ve both got your signature, and they’re what Hadley Richards used to get the director to sanction my taking Jed out.”
Zoë pressed fingers to her temple. “Mr. Richards asked me to run a probability check on Lucifer as Frank Medici’s assassin, but my analysis didn’t support that theory.” She glanced at Jed. “I didn’t know you were Lucifer. And I never heard the name Jed Calhoun until we met here in this apartment two weeks ago.”
“What about the report on the money? That has your name on it, too,” Bailey said.
Zoë frowned. “I didn’t write it.”
“Liar,” Bailey said.
“She’s not a liar.” Jed moved then, cutting in front of Bailey to take Zoë’s arm.
“When she resigned, there were rumors that she was sleeping with Richards,” Bailey said. “She could be covering for him now.”
Zoë felt Jed’s hand tighten on her arm, but she couldn’t meet his eyes. The hammering in her head had begun to roar in her ears.
“Ryder, she needs aspirin,” Jed said as he led her to the sofa in the living area. Then he turned back to Bailey. “I’d trust Zoë McNamara with my life.”
For a moment there was a tense silence in the room. Zoë simply stared at Jed. She couldn’t even begin to identify the flood of feelings pouring through her.
It was Ryder who finally spoke. “Well, it’s clear we’ll have to work through some trust issues here.”
“I’ll vouch for Bailey,” the tall man said.
“I’ll vouch for Zoë,” Jed said.
“That’s good enough for me,” Ryder said. “Can we agree for the time being to take the two ladies at their words?”
Zoë met Bailey’s eyes and said, “Yes.”
“Okay,” Bailey agreed.
“Why don’t all of you sit down,” Ryder suggested. “Everyone can tell his or her side of the story, and maybe together we can figure out what the hell is going on.”
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, they were all gathered on or near the sofas flanking the large coffee table in the living area of Ryder’s apartment. Zoë felt a sense of déjà vu; she’d sat on the same place on the same sofa when she’d first met Jed.
But everything was different now. Jed wasn’t sitting directly across from her. Instead, he was pacing back and forth behind one of the sofas. And he wasn’t Jed. At least he wasn’t the easygoing man with the mocking manner that she’d seen him as that night.
He was Lucifer. And she was having trouble reconciling the two.
She would have to think about that later. Right now, she had to concentrate on the fact that Jed Calhoun was in trouble. He’d been framed for a murder. In spite of her report, Lucifer had been blamed for Frank Medici’s death.
Zoë made an effort to focus her attention on the discussion that was going on around her. The tall man sitting at the end of the couch with one leg extended was Gage Sinclair. This had been the man, she’d learned, who’d had the envelope delivered to her at the Blue Pepper so that she could pass it on to Jed.
Ryder had brought a whiteboard into the room and was busily writing down notes as each of them talked. Bailey Montgomery was perched on the arm of the sofa next to Gage, and she was frowning at Ryder’s notes.
Jed had told his story first, recapping how he’d been contacted by Agent Montgomery at the CIA and asked to deliver a message to Frank Medici. There was a chance that Frank’s cover had been penetrated so urgency was key.
Ryder took him over the same details that she’d spent so much time analyzing—how he’d met Frank at the designated bar and delivered the message. Then seconds after he’d left the bar, the bomb had gone off.
Bailey went next, taking the files out of her bag and placing them on the coffee table. When she’d summarized the contents and Ryder had added pertinent details to the whiteboard, Zoë opened the file with her name on it and studied her signatures.
“They certainly look like mine,” she said. “But I never wrote those reports. I ran all the data on Lucifer, and then I added my own analysis. That part’s been expunged. I wrote that Lucifer was just not th
e type of agent to suddenly take drug money and arrange to kill an old colleague. I told Mr. Richards that twice when I handed in the reports.”
“How did he react?” Ryder asked.
Zoë clasped her hands tightly together. “After I handed in the first one, he asked me to run the analysis again and told me it was urgent. I was to deliver the results to him at the Four Seasons because he would be spending the night in D.C. After the second run-through, my analysis didn’t change.”
“What about the report that showed the money in an account Jed had taken out in the Caymans?” Bailey asked.
“I didn’t write that one. Mr. Richards and I…had a problem. He asked for my resignation a few days after I submitted my second analysis on Lucifer.”
“What kind of problem?” Jed asked.
Zoë lifted her chin. She knew what he was asking, and heat flooded her cheeks. He wanted to know about Bailey’s accusation. “The problem isn’t relevant. The important thing is that someone forged my name to those reports.”
“Something that would probably never have come to light after you’d resigned.” Bailey studied Zoë thoughtfully for a minute. “That wasn’t the first time that Hadley had asked you to work late and take reports to him at the Four Seasons, was it, Zoë?”
“No. He’d given me several assignments to do for him because he said that he liked my work. He asked me on three occasions to join him for lunch at the Four Seasons and make my reports, but that was the first time that he invited me to come in the evening. We had a drink in the bar, and someone stopped by the table. Mr. Richards seemed upset. When I asked him why, he explained that the woman was a particular friend of his wife and he was sure she would misinterpret our relationship. The next day at work, I heard the rumors that Mr. Richards and I were having an affair.”
“I heard them, too,” Bailey said.
“And you believed them,” Zoë said. “Everyone did.”
“Hadley does have a reputation with women,” Bailey said. “But you didn’t have an affair with him, did you, Zoë?”
Zoë laced her fingers together and stared down at her hands. “No. But two days later, Mr. Richards called me into his office and asked me to resign before the rumors grew. He claimed that his wife would be devastated, and that if there was any hint of scandal, it would be bound to reflect poorly on the administration because of his father-in-law’s position as the president’s security advisor.”
Bailey’s brows shot up. “So he played the do-it-for-your-country card?”
“I…didn’t think of it that way. I just figured that I shouldn’t have been so naive. Looking back, I can see that meeting him that way outside of the office in a public place, it could appear that we were having an affair,” Zoë said.
“He was your boss. You met with him at his request,” Jed pointed out.
Zoë glanced at him, but she couldn’t read what he was thinking.
“Yes, but I could have refused. I should have. And when he asked me to resign, he apologized, claiming that it was all his fault. He’d so admired my work that he’d allowed himself to forget how much appearances counted in D.C.”
Ryder added notes to the whiteboard. “So Zoë’s a newbie at the agency. She writes the analysis on Lucifer and she leaves at Hadley Richards’s request.”
“So if there are questions later about the reports, she’s not around to contradict what they say,” Jed added.
“Neat,” Gage murmured. “Very neat.”
“I agree,” Ryder said, “Zoë is out of the way and the reports are in, damning Lucifer for the murder of Frank Medici. There’s an order from the director to take out Lucifer.” He tapped the board with the marker thoughtfully. “The man with his finger in every pie seems to be Hadley Richards.”
“The question is why?” Bailey said.
For a few minutes, there was silence in the room as everyone stared at the whiteboard.
Bailey looked at Jed and spoke again. “I was hoping that if and when you resurfaced, you might have an idea of why you were framed. Do you have some sort of history with Hadley Richards that would threaten him?”
Jed shook his head. “I’ve never even met him.”
“He’s out to get the director’s job, and it could open up this year,” Bailey continued. “Do you have any aspirations in that direction?”
Jed’s laugh was dry. “No way.”
Zoë cleared her throat. “Lucifer isn’t politically correct enough for that kind of a job.”
Everyone turned to stare at her.
“It was part of my analysis.” She shot a quick look at Jed before she continued. “He wouldn’t play political games. He’s too much of an idealist. Plus, he’s known for sometimes making risky decisions and skating pretty close to the edge of the law. That’s what makes him such a great field agent. I mean, think about 007. Can you ever see James Bond taking over M’s job?”
“Good point,” Ryder said with a grin. “Bond always needs M to rein him in.”
“She’s right.” Bailey rose and moved to study the whiteboard. “So that means Frank Medici was definitely the prime target.” She fisted her hands on her hips. “Why take out the only man who’s successfully penetrated the Vidal organization? And why use Lucifer to set it up? Why frame him?”
There was another stretch of silence.
Then suddenly Zoë said, “I think I can answer the second question. Lucifer is the perfect choice. Frank trusted him because they have a history together.” She paused to glance at Gage and Ryder. “Both of you would have trusted him, right?”
Ryder and Gage made sounds of agreement.
“And who would be the person most likely to start poking into the circumstances surrounding Frank’s death?” Zoë asked.
“Lucifer,” Bailey said. “And the bomb didn’t take care of that problem.”
“No. I was close to finding out who’d made that bomb when you asked me to meet with you in that alley,” Jed added. “So if we’re right, that’s why I had to be eliminated.”
“If Richards is behind all this, he came up with a brilliant master plan,” Gage said. “First he has Bailey contact Lucifer to contact Frank. Then once Frank is dead and Lucifer is properly framed, he assigns her the job of taking Lucifer out. Not only does he eliminate Lucifer, but he ensures Bailey’s loyalty. She’s not likely to start poking around in it because she’s involved right up to her pretty little neck.”
Jed picked up the thread. “He takes Zoë under his wing, assigns her the reports, and when she sticks by her analysis, he orchestrates her resignation so that he can doctor her reports.”
“In a matter of days, the frame’s in place, both Lucifer and Frank Medici are dead, and the cases are closed,” Ryder summarized. “I have to agree with Gage. It’s a brilliant master plan.”
Bailey shot Zoë a grim smile. “It might even have worked if old Had hadn’t underestimated the women he chose as his pawns.”
“Very true,” Gage said with a smile for both women.
“But we still don’t know why Richards wanted Frank Medici dead,” Jed pointed out.
“Frank didn’t even work under Hadley,” Bailey said. “And I could never find any kind of a link between them.”
“Wait a minute.” Zoë reached for the reports that Bailey had placed on the coffee table earlier and began scanning the one about the money trail. After skimming it, she glanced up. “The money in Lucifer’s account in the Caymans—there’s no doubt that it can be traced to the Vidal organization?”
“None,” Bailey said.
“Then that’s the link,” Zoë said. “If Richards is behind all this, he’s got a connection to the Vidal drug cartel.”
“She’s right.” Jed rose from the sofa, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up for a smacking kiss. “You’re brilliant, and Hadley Richards was a fool to let you resign.”
Ryder tapped on the whiteboard again this time to get their attention. “Before we start to celebrate, we have some work ahead of
us. Knowing that there is a connection is a far cry from discovering what it is. But since we have some of the CIA’s best gathered in this room, we ought to be able to dig up something. Here’s the plan.”
15
ZOË STUDIED her computer screen. Ryder had assigned each of them tasks and rooms to work in. He’d taken Gage and Bailey to his business offices on the floor below, and she and Jed were using the equipment he kept in his apartment. Jed had chosen a wireless laptop, leaving her with the desktop computer. Then, without a word to her, he’d moved into the living room.
The action only confirmed what she’d already sensed. He was withdrawing from her just as she’d expected. Once they cleared his name, he’d go back to being Lucifer, and she’d never see him again.
She couldn’t think about that now. She couldn’t allow the feelings swamping her to distract her. Her job was to investigate the corporate holdings of McManus Pharmaceuticals, which was the company that Hadley Richards’s wife’s family owned. Priscilla McManus Richards was the current CEO. Zoë had volunteered to look at McManus because there’d been something nibbling at the back of her mind, the kind of hunch that she sometimes got when she was pursuing a new line of research.
The hunch might pay off if she could just keep focused. It had taken her over an hour, but she’d managed to access a list of the company’s holdings. At first glance, nothing had rung a bell. But she wasn’t giving the list her full attention.
No matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop her mind from circling back to Jed Calhoun and Lucifer.
Why hadn’t she had even a clue that Jed was Lucifer? Shouldn’t she have sensed some connection between the agent she’d been so obsessed with and the man she’d felt such an instant and strong attraction to?
Turning, she glanced through the open doorway of Ryder’s office. She could see Jed sitting at the kitchen island, his fingers flying over the keys of the laptop. In profile, his face had the warrior look that she’d always imagined when she’d fantasized about Lucifer.
