Silent Evidence: Evidence #8

by Rachel Grant

  “It’s not about trust. You know I trust each and every one of them.” Alec grimaced. “Please understand, there’s a good reason that letter was so heavily redacted. If word leaks to anyone—including my colleagues in the Senate—about this threat, there will be serious repercussions. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be telling you if you weren’t living here and a potential target. I need your cooperation on this to keep you and Isabel safe. Promise me you’ll cooperate.”

  All she could do was nod. Alec and Isabel had taken her in, were giving her a place to live and recover. Just as she didn’t hesitate to drive to the reservoir to help Isabel, she couldn’t refuse Alec’s request, especially when he was trying to keep his wife safe.

  “Okay, then.” Alec smiled. “All I want is for you and Isabel to be protected.”

  “I know. I doubt I’m the target, but I’ll do what you ask.”

  “Thank you.” Her cousin put on his strategizing face. She’d seen the expression since they were kids and he planned midnight raids on the kitchen to steal desserts. Alec never wanted the sweets, but he’d loved developing intricate schemes to get past parents and housekeepers, and he’d reveled in the role of commanding his MacLeod cousins. “We need a plan for the fieldwork this week. We need a Raptor operative at the reservoir. Isn’t one of Keith’s recent hires from the Menanichoch tribe? You can tell your crew he’s there as a tribal monitor. I’ll figure out some excuse to tell Keith.”

  “Wait, not even Keith knows about this?” Isabel asked.

  “Not even Keith.”

  Across the table from Hazel, Sean cocked his head. “What did you tell him today when you asked for Chase and me to drive out?”

  “Nothing. I called before I had a game plan.” He drummed his fingers on the table, then looked at Isabel. “We can tell Keith that you told me Sheriff Taylor made you uncomfortable and you wanted Sean there in case he challenged Hazel’s authority to examine the bones. Now you want a security guard who can pose as a tribal monitor just in case the sheriff tries to shut you down again.”

  Isabel’s brow furrowed in thought, then she nodded. “That could work. We could even tell the crew that story. Easier to keep track of the lies that way.”

  Alec nodded. “So that covers fieldwork and gets us through Thursday, which brings us to the wedding this weekend. Hazel, you’ll be safe if you come with us. Half the guests are Raptor employees and former special forces of one type or another. Plus, I’m going to hire a couple of operatives from another company to embed with the hotel staff.”

  Hazel looked at him in confusion. “I can’t go to the wedding. I’m not invited, nor should I be. I barely know Ian or Cressida.”

  Alec frowned, then he got that look he always did when he’d come up with the perfect scheme to get what he wanted. When she was seven and it meant extra dessert, she’d loved that look.

  Right now? Not so much.

  “You can go to the wedding if you’re Sean’s date,” he said with a smug smile.

  Hazel’s stomach dropped. No. No. No. No. No. Fear for Isabel had addled his brain if he thought that was a solution.

  He turned to Sean. “Do you already have a date?”

  Hazel’s heart wanted to collapse inward. Her cousin was not going to force an employee to bring Hazel to a wedding. It was wrong on so many levels.

  “Actually, I do,” Sean said quietly.

  Something twisted in Hazel’s belly at that. Of course Sean had a date. The guy was a fricking Adonis. He was a masterpiece. A work of art. He was what you’d get if Captain America and Black Panther had a love child. All muscle and beauty and eyes that drilled into your soul.

  Yeah. She might’ve been thinking about Sean way too much during her months in Croatia. She wasn’t surprised he had a girlfriend. He’d been single in Grand Cayman, but there was no reason to expect him to keep that status. It wasn’t like he was sitting around thinking about her.

  “Is it something you could break off?” Alec asked.

  “Alec, no!” Hazel and Isabel said together.

  “You’re asking too much,” Isabel added.

  “Depends,” Sean said. “What are you thinking?”

  Alec shrugged. “If you bring Hazel as your date, you can share a room, keep an eye on her twenty-four seven with no one being the wiser. It will get us through the weekend, give us time to come up with a long-term plan.” The scheming look returned to Alec’s eyes, and Hazel knew he was falling in love with this idea. It was locking in place, and no amount of begging would sway him.

  Isabel was Hazel’s only hope. She was the only one who could make him see reason when he was being pigheaded.

  “If you and Hazel pretend to be involved, that could work after the wedding too. If you take unpaid leave from Raptor—maybe claim you need a break after the intense schedule you’ve maintained the last few years—then you could guard Hazel during the day, but it would appear you’re hanging out with your new girlfriend. I’d pay you, and your break wouldn’t burn any sick leave or vacation time.”

  Alec was going to need sick leave if he continued pushing this plan. He wanted to force Sean to pretend to be her boyfriend? No. This was a nightmare.

  She could put a stop to this. Alec might know military tactics and politics, but he didn’t know forensic anthropology. Today, a big project had landed in her lap, and she could use that to argue her way out of this. “But I need to do analysis of the Anderson Lake bones in a lab. Probably at a university, if they’ll grant me the space. Sean can’t hang out pretending to be my boyfriend while I’m working. It would be…weird.”

  “We can set up a lab here, in the office annex. The security here is solid—probably better than the university’s because fewer people have access. What do you need besides a microscope?”

  The truth was, not much beyond a good camera, tables, large rectangular trays to lay out the bones, and some big, heavy-based magnifying glass lamps. She could probably borrow most of what she needed from Talon & Drake.

  Security was vital when it came to dealing with human remains. If her work was questioned in a court of law, she’d need to show an unbroken chain of evidence. But the bones had already been brought here tonight, not to Talon & Drake’s offices in Bethesda. An argument could be made that the estate was even more secure because no one knew the bones were here and Alec and Isabel’s home had a massive metal gate, an electrified stone wall enclosing the property, and an alarm system that went to local police, fire, and Raptor.

  The office annex was just as secure. It had been Alec’s home office for Raptor before he ran for the Senate. It was now mostly unused because he met with constituents at his office in Annapolis or in DC. One of the rooms in the annex would be perfect.

  Dammit.

  “Would the annex work?” Alec asked when she didn’t respond.

  “Yes. But you can’t ask Sean to dump his date for the wedding. That’s just cruel.”

  “Someone might’ve threatened your life, Hazel.” This statement came from Sean.

  She startled and faced him. “Might.” She studied his expression. Closed. Thoughtful. Intent. “You aren’t seriously considering this? Dumping your date to pretend to be my boyfriend?”

  “I’m not going to force this on you, Sean,” Alec said. “You wouldn’t be able to tell your date why, maybe not ever. If you say no, I’ll ask someone else in Raptor, but you are my best, first choice. I trust you, and you’ve known Hazel for years. The idea that you two are involved wouldn’t come out of the blue like it would if one of the other operatives took the job.”

  Sean gave a nod. He stood from the table and said, “Before I give you my answer, I need to make a call.”

  Alec nodded, and Sean left the room.

  Hazel took a big gulp of her heretofore ignored glass of wine. She wanted to chase after Sean and tell him no, but two things stopped her: She’d promised Alec she’d cooperate, and the damn cut on her foot made running—even walking—impossible.

  Sean braced h
imself as he dialed Tricia. He never should have asked her to be his date for the wedding. In truth, he’d regretted it the moment the words slipped from his mouth. Not because he didn’t like her, but because he didn’t like her in the same way she liked him. He might be pouncing on Rav’s plan because it neatly extracted him from a potentially awkward situation, but he wasn’t about to share that detail with Rav or Hazel.

  He’d figured going to the wedding with Tricia would be convenient for them both. She’d dreaded being single at yet another couples-dominated event, and he’d wanted a companion for Friday’s caravan to the inn in West Virginia, because Trina, matron of honor, had warned him she’d planned something that would be more fun with a partner.

  Next thing he knew, he’d asked his coworker to ride with him to West Virginia, but his heart wasn’t in it. Which didn’t make sense. Smart, beautiful, and a tough-as-hell operative, Tricia was one of his favorite people. She was Raptor’s private security branch’s secret weapon, because no one expected the curvy, tall, dark-skinned woman with vivid blue kinky hair to be a former police officer and badass bodyguard.

  The blue hair was key. Unlike male bodyguards, she didn’t try to blend in, and she came across as sexy and wild and fun. Tricia didn’t walk into a room; the moment her foot crossed the threshold, she owned it. No one expected her to be an expert in martial arts and firearms, and he’d personally witnessed her disarming men twice her size without breaking a sweat.

  The last thing in the world he wanted was to hurt her feelings. But he was about to in a big way, and it sucked. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and hit the Call button.

  She answered right away—a relief, because there was no way he could drop this in her voice mail like a coward—and her tone said she was happy to hear from him. “Sean! You sure took off like a shot today. What’s going on with Rav?”

  “Isabel was having trouble in the field. No big deal.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he paced the veranda. It was warm for early October and the crystal-blue water of the large swimming pool looked tempting even though darkness had settled in. “Listen, something has come up about this weekend.”

  “What do you mean?” Tricia’s voice turned guarded. Less warm. With good reason. “You aren’t going to the wedding? But you’re best man.”

  He smiled at that, still a little surprised that Ian had asked him and not one of his former Delta Force buddies, but at the same time, he knew why. Sean was close to both Ian and Cressida, and his friendship with the former spy had begun with Sean telling the fool to get off his ass and tell Cressida how he felt.

  “No. I’m going. It’s just…” Hell. He would rip this bandage off in a way she’d understand. “There’s this woman I’ve been into for a long time. I never thought it would work because of complications, but maybe it’s not so complicated after all.”

  “Ohhh,” she said, as if air was releasing in a slow seep.

  “And…she’s going to be at the wedding this weekend.”

  “And you can’t hit on her if you’re there with me.” Her voice wasn’t cold so much as guarded.

  He wished he could use that excuse, but Hazel couldn’t just show up at the wedding unless she was his date. “Not that exactly. Shit, Tricia, I’m so sorry, but I really like this woman. I have for a long time. And nothing’s happened yet…but I think it will, and I wanted to call you and break our date before I do anything I’d have to explain to you or her later.”

  “What, are you on a date with her right now?” Tricia’s voice was strained, and he couldn’t blame her. This was an odd call between friends and coworkers. He never should have asked her, but part of him had wondered if the weekend might trigger something real. The problem was, he knew she’d thought the same thing. And then today he’d come face-to-face with Hazel and knew he wasn’t attracted to Tricia in the same way he wanted Hazel.

  “I’m sorry, Trish. I’m a total asshole.”

  “Oh my God! You are on a date with her!” She surprised him by laughing. “Listen, I’ll be honest and admit I thought something might happen this weekend and I’m disappointed. But I appreciate that you respected me enough to call me before your magnificent hookup, even though you really didn’t have to. It’s not like we’re in a relationship. Or even dating.”

  “Maybe there’ll be some interesting single guys on Cressida’s side of the aisle?”

  “Have you ever met the historians at NHHC? No, thank you.”

  Sean couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks for understanding, Trish.”

  “You owe me. Big-time. Who is this mystery woman, by the way?”

  It was weird to be having this conversation, which was composed of lies piled on lies, but his attraction to Hazel was the one truth he couldn’t admit to Rav or Hazel, yet he could tell Tricia. “Hazel MacLeod. Rav’s cousin.”

  Tricia squealed. “No shit! What’s the big complication, then?”

  “Uh…that she’s Rav’s cousin?”

  “So?”

  “If this goes south, it could screw with my job.”

  “Then why are you going for it now?”

  Because Rav is paying me? Because she could be in danger? Because the idea of another man even pretending to be her boyfriend makes me wild with jealousy?

  “I guess I decided life is too short to not go after what I want.” He turned to face the windows, and there was Hazel, the warm yellow light of the dining room highlighting those high cheekbones and glinting off her dark auburn hair. He would be spending nearly every minute of the next week, maybe two with her.

  He didn’t know if he should be thrilled or terrified.

  3

  As expected, Hazel didn’t sleep much. It was hard to know if the cause of her insomnia was her abrupt return to work or the impossible situation with Sean. She’d been doing better on the sleep front since moving in with Alec and Isabel, but the previous night had been nearly as bad as her last weeks in Croatia. The appointment with the psychotherapist had been bumped to Wednesday, and she was eager to see the woman again.

  Her session last week had been an introduction. They’d only had time for an overview of Hazel’s issues, but even that had felt good. Like she was doing something.

  One question Dr. Parks had asked Hazel had stuck with her. She wanted Hazel to look for links to the past, reasons why seeing the children’s bones now could have triggered anxiety. She’d found herself up and pacing in the middle of the night, wanting to call Dr. Parks in hopes that talking to her would break the infinite loop her thoughts traveled.

  But it probably wasn’t cool to call the nice doctor at three in the morning when the situation wasn’t life-threatening. She figured she’d wait until after the second appointment before she latched on to the psychotherapist like a burr.

  Taking the doctor’s question seriously, she considered whether or not the mass grave of children she’d excavated reminded her of Chelsea, the childhood friend who’d disappeared at nine and whose bones had been found—and her murderer arrested and convicted—when Hazel was in high school.

  It was no secret that what happened to Chelsea had contributed to Hazel’s passion for her work. So why would the anxiety happen now? Hazel had handled children’s bones before, even children like Chelsea, abducted by a family member and discarded like refuse when they were done committing horrors on the young body.

  Maybe it was the discarded part. The way the bones had been piled up in Croatia, offering zero respect for the destroyed young souls.

  But she’d seen that far too often too.

  Her mind circled the questions, and her heart raced and she paced. At last, the light of dawn came, but then a different kind of apprehension set in, something that a session with Dr. Parks wouldn’t ease. Today, the great fake boyfriend charade would commence.

  If she had to pretend to be involved with someone, did it have to be Sean Logan, a man she’d lusted after for years? The man she’d made an ass of herself with just eight months ago?

  S
he’d been shocked when he returned to the dining room last night and announced he would be taking Hazel to the wedding. She’d also learned that Sean wasn’t just a guest, he was in the wedding party—as in, best man. She’d glared at her cousin for the audacity of asking a man to work while he was supposed to be celebrating his best friend’s marriage, but her death glares rolled off her thickheaded scheming cousin.

  Alec didn’t give a damn about what he was asking of Sean, and he refused to give any further explanation as to why secrecy was so damn important Sean would have to lie to his closest friends and Hazel would lie to their family.

  US nuclear codes had better be at stake, or Alec was overreacting.

  Last night, they’d hashed out a schedule to carry them through the weekend. Sean would call in to work today and say Alec had asked him to help injured Hazel retrieve her car from the reservoir and be on hand in case Sheriff Taylor showed up again. Sean and Hazel could leave once Alec arrived with the Raptor operative who could pass for a tribal monitor. That was the plan, anyway, if the Native American was available and willing to take the assignment.

  Their whirlwind romance would also magically happen this afternoon. Sean would claim last night’s dinner at Alec’s ignited his interest in Hazel, and they’d ended up talking into the wee hours of the night. Then today, after they left the reservoir and Sean was “officially off duty,” the chemistry from the night before would flare again and yadda yadda yadda…by tomorrow morning, he’d be calling the groom and asking if he could bring a different date to the wedding.

  As Alec had said, given that Sean and Hazel had known each other for years—and had even spent a week together in Grand Cayman several months ago—this was a plausible scenario. But they would have to sell it to the group over the weekend, acting like they were in the first flush of a new relationship and serious enough to warrant Hazel’s tagging along to the wedding.

  For the next week, at least, Hazel would be with Sean nearly every waking hour. And starting on Friday when they checked in at the inn—an old Victorian mansion nestled in foothills on the edge of a national forest in West Virginia—they’d be sharing a bed.