“There you are, love. Sorry I’m late.” Devon ignored Antonio as he wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a lingering kiss on the lips.
Iris happily melted into him, wrapping both of her arms securely around his firm waist and holding on like he was her lifeline. “No worries. I was just talking to my friend Antonio.”
“Oh?” Devon glanced over at Antonio as if seeing him for the first time. He kept one arm around Iris but extended the other hand. “Nice to meet you. Chris Wilson. Iris’s boyfriend.”
Iris loved that he’d added that. Did he sense that she was uncomfortable with Antonio, or were her suspicions correct and Antonio was the bad guy? She watched Devon closely for any clues, but he seemed relaxed and his face and eyes gave nothing away.
Antonio shook his hand, smiling as if he hadn’t just hit on Iris and was thrilled to meet her boyfriend. “Antonio Jasper. The pleasure is mine, mio amico.”
They released hands. “Which part of Italy are you from?” Devon asked.
“Tuscany.”
“Beautiful country. I’d love to take Iris there sometime.” He squeezed her waist.
The comment struck Iris like a toilet brush flicked in her face. She was certain that Devon was trying to make conversation with Antonio, but she’d told him her story last night. He had to understand that she could never leave this valley, right? She could dream of spots like Tuscany and watch videos online. That was enough for her. Safe, easy, no risk of a panic attack. Yet as she held on to Devon, she felt safe and treasured. Maybe she could explore if her safe anchor was holding her close.
“You would both be welcome any time, but for tonight, I’ll leave you two lovers alone.” Antonio lifted a hand, gave her one more lingering look, and then strode toward the building. One of the sliding glass doors opened, and he disappeared inside.
Devon watched him go with a slight frown on his face, but he quickly smoothed his brow and glanced down at her. “Sorry I was late. I got caught with work stuff, and when I saw you out here talking to that guy … I kind of flipped out. It made me crazy possessive of you.”
She smiled up at him. “Maybe I like you crazy possessive.”
“Really?” He pumped his eyebrows, then bent and kissed her. The kiss was possessive, and she did like it. He pulled back much too quickly and said, “I’d better walk you home. I have to deal with more … work.”
“Oh, okay,” she said. He took her hand, and they walked together off the low patio and across the lit-up pool area. There were some teenagers laughing and talking in one of the hot tubs, but the area was deserted otherwise. “Is everything okay with work?” She wanted to ask him if Antonio was the guy he was after, but he sure wasn’t acting like it.
“I think so. I’m hoping to finally have some movement and close out this case.”
“That’s good.” She thought differently, though. If he closed this case, would he leave her? Would he come back? He’d called her “love” around Antonio and said he was her boyfriend. Was that just because he’d been “crazy possessive,” or did he feel as deeply for her as she did for him? If she couldn’t go to Tuscany, or even Missoula, Montana, would this classy, well-traveled man leave her in the dust?
Only their footfalls and some insects and chattering creatures accompanied them past the adventure course area and onto the trail that led to her house. Devon seemed lost in thought. Iris hated to interrupt him, as he was probably stressed about work, but she had to know. She worked up her courage, and they’d turned onto the gravel road and were almost within the circle of light of Grams’s patio when she got brave enough to ask, “When you’re done with this job …” She swallowed and spit it out: “Will I see you again?”
Devon turned quickly to her and wrapped his arms securely around her. The look he gave her made her stomach fill with warmth. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“I sure hope not.” Iris bit her lip and grinned at him. “I really, really like you, Devon.”
He kissed her tenderly and said, “I more than like you.”
More than like? Now what did that mean? “You’ve traveled the world and probably dated women from all over. Are you sure you want to be with someone who … doesn’t want to leave Happy Valley?” She tried to joke, but she was feeling insecure about how impressive and accomplished he was and how little experience she had.
Devon nodded seriously. “I’ve traveled the world and dated plenty of impressive women.” She winced, and he must have noticed, as he gave her an understanding smile. His voice lowered. “And I have never, ever felt the way I feel with you. I’ve been searching the world for you, Iris Chadwick, and now that I’ve found you, I promise I’m not going to let you go.”
Iris tingled all over. His words were exactly what she’d needed to hear.
He kissed her, and she savored every second of the interaction. He drew back and let out a heavy breath. “I hate it, but I do have to go.”
“Okay.” She nodded as if she were the understanding, supportive girlfriend.
He gave her a peck on the lips, then backed up. “I’ll wait until you get inside. Tell Grams hello from me.”
“I will.” She turned and walked across the gravel and up the steps to the patio. Glancing down, she lifted a hand to him. He smiled at her, tilted his chin up, and then made a heart symbol with his hands just like she’d done to the security cameras today, hoping he was watching.
Biting at her lip, she knew she was falling in love with him. He said he wasn’t going to let her go, and she wouldn’t get rid of him easily. At the same time, she knew he had a job to do. She’d have to trust him. It was exciting, and scary.
Chapter Thirteen
Devon ran back to his room. When Antonio had left earlier, he’d followed him for a while, frustrated because he knew that Iris would probably be waiting for him to walk her home. When the man had confronted her, Devon had waited as long as he could stand before interrupting. He didn’t think Antonio was on to him, but the man was either one of the most impressive criminals Devon had ever been assigned to, or they were all waiting in this remote valley for something that wasn’t coming. His contact at the CIA had admitted that all of Antonio’s businesses seemed squeaky clean, the files on his computers had revealed nothing, and even with all of Devon’s surveillance, he hadn’t heard one word drop about drugs or trafficking. Had Interpol and the CIA been wrong about this guy? It was a possibility, but Devon felt like the guy was dirty and an expert at hiding it.
Devon would never regret the time spent with Iris, but he had been so caught up in her that he hadn’t felt the buzz of a notification that Antonio had entered his room again until the last kiss with Iris. His beautiful girlfriend—he’d loved claiming her as such with Antonio—had so distracted him that he hadn’t even thought about Antonio not being in the room. He hadn’t tapped their cell phones, as none of them was away from their devices, ever. Even when they showered, they kept their phones in the bathrooms, playing music or shows. It was pathetic.
He got to his room and started looking back through footage. Earlier, they’d all been excited, and he thought something was going to happen. There were some conversations he overheard, but the only thing solid he got was some unidentified man saying that this wasn’t right, the one way in and out of the valley was too risky, the airport was too small and exposed, and they needed to move on. Then they kept repeating “get what you can” and “five-forty-five.”
By the time Devon had watched through all the back footage, keeping one eye on the men in the present, they’d all settled in and were watching shows in their own bedrooms. He mulled over the scant information as he waited for something more. They were leaving; he was pretty certain of that. He texted his contact the information, and the man predictably said that Devon should follow.
Usually, that wouldn’t bother him at all. What was a new location to him? Right now, he wanted to stay at this resort until he died. No, he wanted to buy a little cabin around the lake,
marry Iris, and move in promptly. He passed a hand over his face. Even if he did give up his career and his dreams of fifty million for Iris, he had to finish this job. He would never be able to live with himself if he didn’t put scum like Antonio away. The man was filthy. Despite the fact that Devon had nothing on him, he trusted Interpol and the CIA, and he knew Antonio was a dealer and trafficker. He just knew it.
What did it mean for them to “get what they could” and five-forty-five? He hoped they were just planning on stealing the silverware from room service, but he highly doubted that was what they were after. Was there a stash of drugs somewhere in the valley or the mountains, or was it trafficking? Had they marked women or children in this innocent, unsuspecting valley or at the resort? His blood ran cold. He’d have to watch Iris, Catalina, and anyone else Antonio might have come in contact with the past week.
Five-forty-five. He cast a disgusted look at the men. At least he knew it wouldn’t be five-forty-five in the morning. If that number was even referring to a meeting time. It could be referring to a location or a plane number or who knew?
Certain that the men were going nowhere, Devon brushed his teeth, washed his face, and said his prayers, asking for help to protect everyone and get the information he needed and finish this case soon. All he wanted was to be with Iris.
Devon’s alarm went off at four-twenty a.m. He got up and checked his cameras. The men were all down for the count. Just as he’d thought, there was no world where they’d be getting up early in the morning, if that five-forty-five had even meant a time. Maybe five-forty-five tonight, though. If that was the case, Devon could catch them red-handed and get them arrested easily. He would love to put this all behind him and focus on Iris.
He dressed quickly and decided to just go on a run, then come back to the gym to lift, in case something crazy happened and the men did actually know there were two five-forty-fives in a day. It was dark outside as he headed out on the trails, and his mind ran with concerns about Antonio and his plans that bumped up against much happier thoughts of Iris in his arms.
His breath came in faster pants, and his legs burned. With no light from the sun yet and the moon gone, the only indicator that he was heading straight up a narrow path was the pull of gravity. He paused and looked at his watch. Five-ten. He’d better get back.
He turned to head back down the trail, but it was still dark in the predawn and the trees were so dense and thick around him that it appeared even darker. The trail split, and he took the one that went downhill, but then it split again and he wasn’t certain which way to go. He stopped and glanced around. Was he lost? He rarely got lost, but he didn’t remember the trail going off in different directions, hadn’t seen it in the dark. The slight tinge of light on the mountains in front of him had to mean that east was that way. He’d initially run north and west of the resort, so he just needed to head toward the little bit of light. He’d get back if he headed east and south. He’d be fine.
The fork he was at broke to the south or north. He chose the south one. He’d get back eventually, but he felt uneasy that he wasn’t back when he wanted to be. Not that Antonio and his men would stir before noon, but if there was something significant about five-forty-five, he wanted to be around at that time.
He pushed the concern away, but as he upped his pace, the trail angled back west. Shoot. Should he double back or hope it would turn again? The trees and foliage were so thick that creating his own trail would slow him down possibly worse than running the wrong direction for a bit. If only the sun would come up or he’d find another trail heading the direction he wanted.
A buzz on his hip sent a wave of cold fear washing over him. He pulled out his phone, praying it wasn’t what he feared, but the message confirmed that the door to Antonio’s room had opened. It was five-fourteen. Someone really was awake this early in the morning.
He stopped and clicked on his cameras. His hands were clammy and his gut churned as he watched all three men calmly exiting the room, suitcases in hand. He quickly texted his contact: Suspect is on the move.
Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he sprinted along the trail, fruitlessly looking for an option to head back south and east. He had trackers on their suitcases and their vehicle, so he wouldn’t lose them, but it was only five-fifteen. Did five-forty-five mean a meeting time, then? And what were they supposed to “get” and take with them?
Frustration and concern coursed through him. How had he allowed himself to get lost on this morning, of all mornings? Yet how could he have seen this coming? The men had never gotten up before noon. He pushed on faster, finally finding a thin trail that headed east. As he ran, he prayed, Please don’t let me lose them. More importantly, Please don’t let them touch Iris, or anyone else.
Chapter Fourteen
Iris woke early, smiling at the thought of Devon and excited for the possibility of another day with him. He’d said that he’d searched the world for her and he wasn’t going to let her go. She grinned as she remembered those words and his sweet and passionate kisses. She slid into a tank top, shorts, socks, and running shoes. Tiptoeing through the house so she wouldn’t wake Grams, she drained a glass of water, then slipped out the back door. It was still murky dark at five-twenty in the morning, but she had a busy day and wanted an early start. She wanted to head up the trails, but she decided to do the six-mile loop around the lake. It was relatively flat terrain and easier to navigate in the dark.
She approached Uncle Jay and Cat’s cabin and suddenly came upon a large camping van right in the middle of the road. She pulled up short and eased around it. The stupid van was taking up the entire road, as it was turned on an angle to block both lanes.
She heard a shriek of surprise and then the sounds of water splashing and scuffling. What in the world? Was that Cat? Hurrying down the gravel path that led to their cabin, she wondered if she could even help if someone was hurting Cat. Inspiration struck, and she yanked out her phone, clicking on her text app and her latest text stream with Devon.
A door slammed on the van and she whirled around, not wanting someone to come at her from behind. A man approached, and she backed up. Should she make a break for the front porch of the cabin, or continue to the back and hope Uncle Jay was up fishing already, or try to get to Cat?
Movement came behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. Peering through the murky predawn light, she could see a burly man with a body slung over his shoulder. A trim, female body in only a swimsuit. A body that wasn’t moving or resisting.
“Cat!” she screamed, pushing the concern of the man coming from the van away as she rushed toward her cousin.
Footsteps from behind pounded through her like a death knoll, and she knew the guy was coming after her again. She felt surrounded and outnumbered and horrified. Who were these men, and why did they have Cat? Was she dead? Could Iris help her, or would she get knocked out or killed herself? She fumbled with the phone, trying to push on the icon with Devon’s name so she could get to a call button.
A large body slammed into her from behind, and she sprawled face-first into the dirt. The man’s weight knocked into her from above, and her phone flew from her grasp. All the oxygen was robbed from her body.
“No!” she managed to gasp, but it wasn’t loud enough for Uncle Jay to hear her. The man’s fingers dug into her neck and she flailed and fought for air, but darkness crept in faster than she could’ve imagined.
Devon hated this feeling of panic. His quarry was gone, he thought. The vehicle they’d driven into the valley hadn’t moved, but the trackers he’d hidden on suitcases and in shoe linings showed that they were headed out of the valley. And where was he? Still sprinting down trails, but thankfully, he was almost back to the lodge. One of his dad’s sayings drifted through his mind: Almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.
He’d called his contact, and they were sending a couple of operatives from Missoula, but even if they found the men, they couldn’t stop them for no reason. T
hey couldn’t afford to miss the opportunity to catch them doing something illegal. For all Devon knew, they could be simply going on a drive—at close to five-forty-five in the morning, the elusive number from last night. He knew they were up to something, but he had absolutely no clue what. If only he had time to look back through his surveillance video. He raced into the lodge and up the stairs to his room. He looked at his monitors, which showed an empty room, and cursed just for the sake of the frustration. He wished he had time to call Iris and check on her, but she was either still in bed or maybe out on a run.
He rinsed off in record time, dressed, and grabbed his keys, wallet, and gun from the dresser. The pressure of the gun at his back waistband proved comforting reassurance. He gripped a small carry-on that was full of weapons. Hurrying back out of his room, he took the stairs two at a time and was in his vehicle with his phone in hand, tracking the men as he pulled out of the still-quiet and semi-dark resort. It wasn’t yet six a.m., and the peaceful look of the resort and the valley reassured him.
As he drove, he kept one eye on the tracker, thankful that the roads were quiet this early in the morning and required little effort to stay on track. The men were halfway through the mountain pass that led out of the valley when the dot appeared to turn off the main road and head east. Devon put the sport utility on cruise and hit the button so the vehicle would stay in its lane. He studied that dot as the vehicle basically drove itself. He was certain that they were headed east, deeper into the mountain. They either assumed that no one was following them and they were probably headed for a rendezvous spot, or they could be changing their base location to a cabin in the mountains instead of the lodge. Either way, they weren’t fleeing the valley with women or children they’d kidnapped, which had been his worst and first fear when he’d seen them on the move this morning.
Only Her Undercover Spy Page 9
