Desired in Darkness
Page 18
A flight attendant appeared from the cockpit. “Sir, we’ll be landing in Lexington in just under two hours. Can I get you, Miss Fairfax, or Mr. Tobias anything before we take off?”
Declan looked at me.
“A water?” I said.
Dimitri held up a finger, also requesting a water.
“Three waters, Tracy. Thank you.”
“Very good, sir.”
I eyed Declan. “Will I ever get used to people addressing me so formally and waiting on me hand and foot?”
Declan took my hand and lifted it to his mouth. “You will.”
Tracy returned with the waters, then returned to her jump seat near the cockpit for takeoff.
As we flew, I began to consider ways in which I could draw Romeo out of hiding to face me. I still didn’t understand why Romeo came after me when it was his “friends” who had betrayed him. But perhaps it was for the best. He had picked me to mess with, and now, I would be the one to stop him.
Chapter 31
Brooke
Since the night of the engagement party—since the moment Mike was killed—I’d known that if anyone was going to stop Romeo, it would be me. I was sure that if I got rid of Dimitri, Declan, and anyone else who could watch my back, Romeo would come for me. I had no idea what he would do to me then, but I was sure he’d find a way to possess me if he could.
“What are you thinking?” Declan asked.
“Exactly what I’ve been thinking since the night of our engagement party: it’s up to me to stop Romeo.” I leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. That wasn’t exactly what I was thinking; I hadn’t completely formulated my plan yet. And I didn’t think Declan wanted to hear my speculation that Romeo wished to possess me.
A calm had come over me the minute the airplane took off. I knew we would fix whatever this was with Claire and the TSA, and she would be sent back to Ireland. That’s what people like me did—we fixed things.
But what if Claire had meant to take a gun through security? Declan hadn’t described Claire as having violent tendencies, but she had physically assaulted me at Julep Hill.
No. The more I sat there with my eyes closed, I knew that this was Romeo. He wanted me to come fix this.
“Brooke, look at me.”
I opened my eyes and turned my head.
“You’ve gotten quiet. It’s never a good sign when you start internalizing your thoughts about a case.”
I didn’t bother to point out that this wasn’t an actual case of mine, but rather my life’s mission. “He’s behind everything,” I said. “He’s committed so many crimes, we’ve lost count. And, until one of Dad’s own was killed—until Special Agent Mike Donaldson was gunned down—my father barely paid attention. Why do you think that is?”
Declan blinked a few times.
“Because they’re covering it up,” Dimitri said. He was seated across from Declan and me. I pointed a finger. “Exactly. Mike and I knew the CIA had covered up what had happened to Teddy. Dad told us that. My father has been extending some sort of professional courtesy, trying not to make enemies with someone inside the CIA.”
“A cover-up at its worst,” Dimitri said, shaking his head. I got the feeling that this kind of expediency was exactly why he rebelled against most government entities. This was why he’d become a rogue intelligence agent.
“But now,” Declan said, “we know that Teddy’s shooter is Romeo.”
“Yeah.” I leaned my head against the seat again. “Romeo killed my husband, and I think he’s responsible for at least a half dozen other deaths.” My lips tugged downward. “And he murdered my unborn child. Just like Christopher and Mark and Madeline murdered his unborn child—in his eyes anyway.” Woodford Clay Harrison had flipped, and now he was playing judge, jury, and executioner—punishing everyone responsible for betraying him.
“So how are we going to stop him?” Declan asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered, then closed my eyes again.
When we landed in Lexington, David was waiting in Declan’s SUV to drive us to the Louisville airport. I situated myself in the back seat and turned my phone on to check my messages. A single text came through:
I’m waiting for you.
A chill moved down my spine the way blood oozes from a gunshot wound—slowly at first, but then in overwhelming quantities. And with the chill came a realization: I wasn’t meant to survive whatever Romeo had planned for me.
Chapter 32
Brooke
The airport was crawling with police, FBI, and Homeland Security, though most seemed to be gathered outside, packing up their gear and leaving the premises. By this time, the KSP bomb squad had determined the threat was a hoax. Flights had been cleared to resume, but the terminal was crazy with people who missed their earlier flights. David dropped Declan and me off out front, and he and Dimitri drove the vehicle to a lot for people waiting on arrivals.
Declan’s attorney and PR expert were both waiting for us inside the main terminal; Declan had called them before we’d left DC. They followed Declan and me to the main airport offices, where I knew TSA would have taken Claire. I showed the receptionist—an armed TSA agent—my credentials and explained who everyone was.
That was when I spotted FBI Special Agent in Charge Erica Marshall speaking with a man in a dark suit. She lifted her chin in my direction and walked over to us.
“Mr. O’Roark,” she said in an official tone. “If you’ll come with me, my agents need to ask you some questions.”
Declan touched my arm. We had known this would happen. Claire had to have told the police and FBI that she was in the States visiting Declan.
Erica ushered Declan down a hall and into a room. His attorney and “fixer,” as he liked to call Maggie, followed him. Erica closed the door, then returned to me. “My agents can ask him the few questions we have.” She had a strange look on her face.
“Okay,” I said.
“I have some questions for you.”
“For me?”
“Yes.” Erica led me to another room. When the door was closed, and we were alone, she turned. “I’m sure you know by now the reason I was asking you about scopolamine.”
“I believe I do,” I said cautiously.
“Deborah Farrell had high amounts of a similar drug in her system.”
“Borracheromine.”
“That’s right. You’re not surprised by this, which means you already knew.”
“I suspected when you started asking questions, so I spoke with Ms. Farrell.” She started to protest, but I held up a hand. “Save your breath, Erica. I had every right to question the woman who shot up my office and shot one of my employees. Especially when you started asking questions about a very rare drug. It’s not like you were all that discreet about your line of questioning.”
“Your dad will have my badge.”
“What? Why do you say that?”
“The files from that case have been removed from the database.” Erica wrapped her arms around her chest as if she were cold. She looked toward the closed door, then back at me. “What if I told you I’ve read the files and spoken with someone who knows why they were hidden?”
I angled my head. “I would say that I’m surprised you would risk your career telling me this, but that I’m also curious as to what you know.”
“I am risking my career. And I truly love my job.” She paused. “If I were you, I would want to know what happened that night.” She swallowed hard. “And I would want a good agent to put truth and justice above bureaucracy.”
“Erica… What have you learned?”
“Woodford Clay Harrison pulled the trigger on your husband.”
“He did what?” I asked, feigning shock to mask the fact I already knew this. I couldn’t let Marshall know my father had risked his own career to tell me this.
“Mike met with the CIA a week before the sting operation went down. He knew that the CIA would be there that night. And… he knew what was going to ha
ppen.”
My pulse picked up speed. “Maybe he just figured out that we were investigating the same drugs and terrorist groups as the CIA,” I offered. “Maybe that’s why he met with them.” I wanted to give Mike the benefit of the doubt. I refused to believe, without further evidence, that he had anything to do with my husband’s death.
She shook her head. “The CIA was trying to get the drug back.”
“Get it back?” She was losing me.
“The borracheromine was produced by the CIA, but someone got hold of the initial batch and sold it to a terrorist organization.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. The terrorists used the drug to carry out several international and domestic attacks. The CIA knew that if the drug was ever traced back to them, the political repercussions would be huge. It could even lead to the CIA being dismantled altogether.”
“So that’s why the CIA is fighting to cover this up.” I turned away from Erica, then faced her again just as quickly. “Who’s your contact?”
“Who else has had access to the old case files—before they were removed, of course? Who would continue to dig into the facts and circumstances surrounding that old case?”
Mike. But he was dead. And he’d had only one partner after Teddy was killed. So besides me, only one other person probably cared as much as I did about this old case. “Carlos.”
Erica nodded.
“Why would he tell you all this? Why didn’t he tell me? Or the director, for that matter?” I stared at Erica, but quickly held up a hand. “He thinks my father is part of the cover-up. And by extension, he had to suspect that I might have been as well.”
She didn’t confirm my theory. She didn’t have to. “He says the director has a photograph of Mike speaking with the CIA. He knows it looks bad, but he also knows that Mike didn’t set Teddy up that night. He says Harrison is behind it all—making Mike look like a mole, murdering Teddy, your miscarriage.”
I turned away from her again and paced. I looked up. “Look, Erica. You’ve gone way out on a limb to share this with me, so I’ll be honest with you. Yesterday, the director told me that Romeo was working with the CIA. But he doesn’t know about the CIA making the drug.” I was so sure of my words that I didn’t give her time to protest. “But… Mike knew,” I repeated in disbelief. “That’s what Romeo was trying to tell me by sending video of his confrontation with Mike before killing him. Mike knew that the operation that we were supposed to stop was actually a transaction between the CIA and the terrorists. The CIA was trying to get the drugs back—to cover up their mistake. Mike knew, and he let Teddy walk into a trap.”
“Or that’s what Harrison wanted you to believe.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “We’ll never be able to prove the CIA’s guilt in all this. They’ll claim that Harrison went rogue, got access to the borracheromine, and that they’ve been trying to stop him.” Of course, I planned to stop him first.
“I don’t disagree,” Erica said.
I studied her. “So why did you risk your job to tell me all this?”
“As much as I love being an agent, I believe in justice. And even though you and I have had our differences, I know that you’re a good person. A good agent and investigator. You deserve to know what happened to your husband. And you deserve to know who you can trust.”
I thought about that for several seconds, then asked, “What is your analysis of the information?” Since I’d gotten the courage to return to a career of law enforcement, I’d learned to face hard truths head on. “Do you think my father knows more about this operation than he’s been telling me?”
“No. Every instinct in me says that your father was kept in the dark. But I can’t be sure. I think your father is a good director, but I also believe he would bury information if he thought he could protect you.”
I couldn’t argue with that. Long before he ever told me, he had known that Romeo had shot my husband and that Mike had probably put it together before he died.
I also didn’t doubt Erica’s information. She was a good agent, even if I hadn’t always given her enough credit. “What’s going to happen to Claire?” I asked, changing the subject.
“We have video of someone slipping an object into her bag shortly after she checked in at the ticket counter.”
“What? Then why are you interrogating Declan?”
“I needed to speak to you without Declan and his entourage present.”
I could respect that. “What happens now?”
“We’re going to put Claire and Darren on a plane to Ireland. It’s at the gate now, and is being held for takeoff.”
I lifted both brows. “I appreciate that.”
“I thought you might.” She smiled. “She’s a piece of work, and she’s clearly got a thing for your fiancé. Also, although the video is not one hundred percent definitive, we believe the man who slipped the gun into her bag is Harrison.”
I nodded. “Of course.” That was how he’d gotten me to return to Kentucky this time. “He’s becoming more and more brazen.” And that was how I would catch him.
“It would appear so.” She hesitated. “Claire claims that someone told her to get a flight to the States.”
I angled my head. “I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t understand either at first, but I found it extremely strange. Claire said an American showed up in their small Irish town, claiming to know Declan. This man told Claire that Declan was about to make a huge mistake by giving some American girl his family ring.”
“Romeo,” I said softly.
“I think so. I think he’s manipulating everything around you.”
Romeo’s words—the text—came to me again. I’m waiting for you. How was I supposed to stop him?
“Thank you for sharing this information with me,” I said to Erica.
“My pleasure. Harrison must be stopped. I’d like for you to let my office take over the investigation on the Kentucky side. Let us put some agents on you.”
“I would appreciate the help,” I said. “But I don’t want agents following me around. It’ll just spook Harrison.”
“You want him to come out in the open.”
“Yes. And he won’t do that if he sees a bunch of agents around me.” Or he’ll just start killing them. “But I appreciate the help otherwise. And it’s nice to know I have a friend in law enforcement I can call.”
She nodded.
It suddenly dawned on me that I hadn’t seen Ty since we’d arrived. “Where is Deputy Director Jamison?” I asked.
“No idea. I haven’t seen him all night.”
That made no sense. I pulled out my phone to see if I had missed a call or text from Ty. There was nothing. “If there’s nothing else, I’m going to give him a call.” I needed him to help me analyze everything I’d just learned.
“You can use this room,” Erica said. “I’ll tell Declan where to find you.”
Ty’s phone rang several times before he answered.
“Brooke, hi. Where are you?” It was definitely Ty’s voice, but he sounded… off.
I furrowed my brow while staring at some piece of generic wall art—a black and white photograph of a large airplane. “I’m at the Louisville airport TSA office… where you’re supposed to be. Where are you?”
“I’m almost there. I got delayed.”
I held the phone out and stared at it. “Delayed? How?”
“It doesn’t matter.” There was a pause, followed by muffled voices. “Hey, can you come out? I’m outside the TSA office, but they won’t let me enter.”
“What? Why not? Never mind.” I sighed. “I’m on my way.”
I exited the offices and spotted Ty standing alone about ten feet away. I saw no TSA officers or anyone else who would have kept him from entering the security offices. “Hi,” I said. “What’s going on? Where the hell have you been?”
“I don’t know,” Ty said. “I need you to come with me, though.” He grabbed my elbow and
began leading me away from the security offices.
“What? No.” I pulled my arm from his grasp. “We need to get back inside and do a debrief about Claire and the bomb threat.”
Ty grabbed me again, harder this time. “Listen to me, Brooke. You will come with me now.” He slurred his words.
“Have you been drinking?” But as I asked the question, I knew. Borracheromine. Somehow Romeo had gotten to him. Drugged him. “Ty, stop,” I said, grabbing his arm. I tried to pull him back in the direction of the offices, to get him out of the public space, but he was stronger.
Ty looked me in the eye and smiled. “Woody said to tell you that if you put up a fight, if you draw attention to us in any way, or draw your weapon, he’ll be forced to shoot up this terminal full of people. Don’t think for a moment he’s not smart enough to sneak assault weapons into an airport lobby.”
I scanned the terminal for Romeo. I didn’t see him, but the place was packed. Hundreds of potential victims. Plenty of places to hide.
I turned back to Ty and studied his dilated pupils. “Ty, snap out of it. It’s me. It’s Brooke.” You can fight this.
“I know who you are, silly. Now come on.” Ty stumbled slightly, laughing as he did. He forced me along.
I scanned the area again. This time I spotted a man in a baseball cap and a long wool coat standing next to the exit. He was carrying a large shopping bag in one hand, and his other hand was inside his coat pocket. I couldn’t be sure he wasn’t pointing a gun at us. His hair was either cut very short or shaved completely. But I could see his face—a face I had memorized in recent weeks. Romeo.
Ty was pulling me straight toward him.
I stopped. Considered going for my weapon. Ty stopped with me. “He’ll kill me if you don’t keep walking,” Ty said with a smile. He had no idea what he was saying, but he was telling me the truth—the truth that Romeo wanted me to know.
I reached up and cupped Ty’s cheek. “I need you to do something for me.”