Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Page 27

  Everything about the man seemed secretive and mysterious, as if he was hiding matters of national security behind those blue eyes. Those incredibly mesmerizing blue eyes. Blue eyes she could lose herself in forever.

  She shook her head. She couldn’t think like that. Not only did Ed Carter suspect she might be responsible for killing his father, but he was also everything she didn’t want in a man. She’d come here to get away from his type. She needed someone who didn’t have aspirations of corporate ladders and a fast-paced lifestyle. She needed someone who wasn’t always looking for greener pastures and who appreciated the small things in life. She didn’t see that a lot in career-oriented guys.

  Ed had proven that was his mind-set in his halfhearted answer to Wilkins about whether or not he would move here.

  If Bailey were smart, she’d get off the island and run, not look back. But then she thought about her sister, and her sister’s kids, and her sister’s husband, Jason, who was out to sea with the navy right now. They were the picture of what Bailey wanted.

  Lauren had stopped working so she could homeschool her children. The family did without expensive cable and fancy vacations, instead choosing to go hiking or do service projects together so they could afford to live on one income. Instead of taking dance class or playing sports through pricey studios or clubs, they utilized classes offered at local community centers. They were some of the kindest, sweetest, most loving people Bailey knew—and she wasn’t just saying that because they were family.

  The greater fact remained that she couldn’t put the people she loved in danger.

  With Henry and Ed out of earshot, she pulled out her phone and called her sister.

  Relief filled Bailey when she heard Lauren’s sweet, soft voice.

  “You doing okay?” Bailey asked in a rush. She continued to scan everything around her, looking for a sign of trouble or an intruder or anything else that might signal danger. All she saw was some leftover smoke lingering in the air.

  Her sister laughed. “Of course I’m doing okay. Why do you sound so worried? I should be the one asking you that after that storm just hit that dinky island where you’ve been living.”

  “I’m fine. The storm could have been worse, in all honesty. I didn’t hear from you for a few days, so I was concerned.”

  “We’ve just been running around. Between all the kids’ activities, I’ve hardly had a moment to think.”

  Bailey’s heart slowed. “Okay. Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  “Everything okay? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  “I’m good,” Bailey insisted. Now that she knew Lauren was okay, she needed to get off the phone before too many questions were asked. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll call soon, though. Tell the kids Aunt Bailey said hello!”

  *

  Four hours later, the fire marshal finally cleared the house. He advised everyone to stay out of the west wing until repairs were made, but he saw no immediate danger.

  As soon as he left, Ed turned to Bailey. “I don’t think I’ve said thank-you yet. What you did when you found me in that room was brave.”

  “Nothing you wouldn’t do.”

  He wanted to ask about the tea, about the picture he’d found on her bed, about her suspicious behavior. But how could he really accuse someone who’d just saved him?

  He needed to handle this carefully. “Bailey, I—”

  Just then, Ed’s cell phone rang, and he recognized his friend’s number. “I’ve got to take this.”

  He excused himself and walked down the east wing for some privacy. They’d have to finish that conversation later. “What’s going on, Archie?”

  Archie was one of the best tech ops that Ed had known. They’d worked together on several missions, and Ed knew he could trust him. He’d kept the details of his time here quiet to everyone else—even his boss—until he knew who was on his side. If anyone could help Ed find the answers, it was him.

  “Any updates?” Archie asked. “I haven’t heard from you in a few days and wanted to make sure you didn’t have two feet in the grave.”

  “You should know me better than that, Archie. I make every effort to only have one foot in the grave at a time.”

  His friend laughed. “Of course.”

  “No real updates here.” Ed glanced behind him, making sure Bailey wasn’t listening. “Something was definitely going on with my father. His death wasn’t from natural causes.”

  “When are you going to send me his medication?” Archie asked.

  “I have someone stopping by on Thursday to pick it up. They’ll take it right to you so you can test it.”

  “If you’re right and someone did mess with his prescriptions, do you have any idea who might have switched the pills?” Archie asked.

  “The most likely suspect would be his nurse.”

  “Do you think she’s capable of that? That she’s working for the other side?”

  Ed locked his jaw in place for a moment as he remembered Bailey’s kind eyes. “I don’t know yet. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  “There’s one more thing I wanted to tell you.” Archie paused. “Sanderson has disappeared.”

  Ed’s muscles tightened. “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  “He somehow managed to slip away from our surveillance. No one knows where he is. I just wanted you to know.”

  Sanderson was only one of the most dangerous terrorists of this century. Part of Ed’s deep-cover assignment had been to tail the man. Sanderson was a former British intelligence operative. Now he didn’t work for any side; he simply worked for himself, doing whatever he could to ensure he had more power and more wealth.

  The man was dangerous. He had an army of followers and together they’d planned terror attacks in several different countries. The most recent one had taken place in Libya, where six Americans with diplomatic ties were killed. Most of the public didn’t realize the true implications of the acts; they wouldn’t sleep knowing what the true stakes were.

  Classified information had been stolen before the bomb engaged, which was what claimed so many lives—twenty altogether. That information was held as leverage over the Libyian government as well as the government of the Ukraine. Both countries had eased sanctions, knowing if the intel was released into the public that outrage would ensue—outrage that could topple a government.

  “I’ll keep you updated on what I find out,” Archie said. “I just thought you should know. In theory, this man should have no idea what your real identity is. In reality…well, you know what that’s like.”

  Archie was right. Sanderson shouldn’t have any idea who Ed really was. He’d posed as an equities trader while trying to gather information on the man. The assignment had been his life for the past several months. As part of his job, he’d worked with one of Sanderson’s right-hand men. He’d recorded how they came and went. He observed who they spent time with. He reported when they took trips out of the country.

  He’d pulled out of the assignment when he’d finally learned of his father’s death. He’d been under what was called deep cover, which meant essentially that his entire life was erased. His job became his new life, and his new identity became his only reality.

  The only reason he’d been notified of his father’s death was because the government suspected something was amiss. Of course Ed was the most logical person to figure out what that was. But he was here now unofficially. He’d told the CIA that he needed to take some time to sort through everything, to grieve. He’d been telling the truth. He wouldn’t rest until his father had justice.

  Until he knew who was clear, he had a handful of people he trusted and truly considered friends at the CIA right now. They were the only ones he’d ask to help him.

  When he returned to the living room, Bailey was kneeling in front of the fire, seemingly mesmerized by the flames.

  The image made him pause. She looked so serene, yet pensive. He had the strange desire to rub her back, to
tell her everything would be okay. He didn’t know her story, but at the moment she seemed so alone.

  She glanced up, startled almost, as he got closer. A sad smile briefly played on her lips. “Hey.”

  He pulled a chair up and sat beside her. “You doing okay?”

  Surprise fluttered through her gaze until she finally nodded. “I’m hanging in. It was a crazy day. A crazy week, for that matter. I had no idea when I accepted this assignment that it would turn into this.”

  Her words caused him to bristle. Assignment? What exactly was she saying?

  She continued, “I wasn’t sure if home health care was for me, but I treasured being able to be there for someone during their final moments.”

  He nearly laughed at himself. Her assignment here with his father. Of course. He had to stop thinking like a spy.

  “Why’d you really come here, Bailey? Why the career change?”

  Her gaze remained fixed on the fire. “A lot of reasons. A lot of signals telling me it was time for a change. I’d worked in the ER for a long time. The pace was hectic, frantic. It worked for me for a while, but I was getting tired. I guess what sealed the deal for me was Bobby.”

  “Who was Bobby?”

  “A rising executive with a local advertising firm down in Raleigh. I realized that his career was his first love and that I’d always be second place. Then I looked around and realized that most of the people I knew had different priorities than I did. Life was about money and success. I count my success in my relationships, in the moments. I mean, most of the people I knew never said that exactly, but their actions spoke loudly. I knew I wanted more. I wanted a slower pace.”

  “Slower paces are nice, and you don’t get much slower than around here.”

  She nodded. “In the middle of all of that, my own father became ill. He was diagnosed with heart disease and died two months later. I stayed with him, taking care of him during his final days. My mom passed away when I was sixteen, so my sister and I were all he had. I realized how important those final moments in life can be. That’s why I chose hospice.”

  Some of the pieces began clicking into place. That was why she was judging him as she did. She’d sacrificed her career in order to put her family first, and she thought that Ed couldn’t even give up enough time for a funeral.

  He had the strange desire to tell her the truth—the whole truth. He wanted to spill everything about how he hadn’t found out about his father’s death until two days after the fact.

  He wanted to tell her how much he mourned his father, how much he’d do anything to go back and spend more time with him, how he already missed his father’s wisdom and example.

  Certainly, in Bailey’s mind, Ed was just like her ex-boyfriend: someone whose career was the most important thing in life. That was how he’d operated for so long now. But for a while his gut had been telling him that he needed to make some changes. Maybe being here on Smuggler’s Cove would help things to become clear.

  “Being with someone in his or her dying moment is a noble calling, Bailey,” he finally said. And he meant it. He’d been with enough people as they’d taken their final breaths. It was gut-wrenching.

  “It’s hard, but I really felt like it was a ministry.”

  “You’re a believer?” Surprise, maybe even a touch of delight, washed through him.

  She nodded. “I wouldn’t get through my job without faith. I try to pass that on to my clients. Usually, when people are faced with death, their eyes are opened to things beyond the temporary. They really want to believe that life extends beyond this earth.”

  His throat went dry. “How about my father?”

  “He had a lot of questions at the end. He started going to church. The pastor came by to visit him some. He really turned his life around, Ed. He started reading his Bible.”

  Joy spread through his soul. Those were the conversations he regretted not having. “That’s great.”

  Bailey looked over at him and smiled. “I know. I didn’t realize faith was important to you.”

  If she knew some of the things he’d seen, she’d know why faith was the only thing that kept him going.

  He finally settled on saying, “Your faith is admirable.”

  “My faith in God is stronger than ever. My faith in people…well, it leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “Not everyone is like your ex-boyfriend,” he said. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew he couldn’t put himself in that category. He’d been married to his work. Once he figured out who killed his father, he’d return to the job, to another assignment, to a new group of people.

  He was practically a nomad. There was no way to really put down roots in his line of work. For so long, he’d been fine with that. When had something inside him started to change?

  Maybe it was after he’d read Romans 12:2 on a card he’d found in his wallet. Because of protocol, he shouldn’t have had it there. But someone in the train station had handed it to him. He’d shoved it in his pocket, and somehow it got wedged into his wallet.

  Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.

  It was the word transformed that caught his attention. He’d read that verse probably a million times before. But something about reading it then, something about the thought of being transformed—not into someone the CIA wanted him to be, but into someone God wanted him to be—started to nudge at his conscience.

  The memories slipped away as Bailey stood and rubbed her hands on her jeans.

  “I think I’m going to turn in for the evening. I left a sandwich on the table for you.”

  “Thank you,” he told her.

  She slipped off to bed.

  He stood, stretching. Maybe he should get his mind off everything by doing some reading. Sometimes just clearing his head for an hour helped him to see things more clearly.

  He walked over to the bookshelf and examined some of the titles there. There were plenty of international thrillers and several classics.

  What will it be? Grisham or Dickens? he asked himself.

  He picked up a title when something caught his eye.

  He plucked up a small piece of plastic.

  Only it just wasn’t a piece of plastic.

  It was a hidden camera. Had someone been watching their every move all along?

  ELEVEN

  Bailey woke the next morning and sat up in bed. She had hardly slept a wink last night. She’d had too much on her mind. Plus, despite the electricity being on, the house was freezing.

  Aside from her normal worries, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her conversation with Ed. He’d showed a surprisingly human side to himself and broken some of the stereotypes she’d placed on him.

  What if he did have a good reason for missing his dad’s funeral? She couldn’t imagine what it might be, but Ed had looked truly mournful that he hadn’t been here for his father.

  She also wondered what his story was. DC lawyer? There was more to him than that. Maybe he was former military or doing such high-profile work that he’d been threatened. Would that explain why he carried a gun? Why he seemed to know so much about self-defense and bombs?

  He still hadn’t explained why he thought his father had been murdered, though. Mr. Carter had said some strange things, but at the time Bailey thought he’d just been talking crazy. What if he hadn’t been?

  But why would someone want to murder someone like Mr. Carter? He was retired, trying to enjoy life. He’d been a number cruncher and, even though she’d joked with Ed about it, why would someone feel the need to kill a number cruncher? It didn’t make sense.

  Finally, she threw her legs out of bed, got dressed and padded downstairs. As she started toward the kitchen, she noticed Ed sitting in front of the fire. He stared at something in his hands, something small, the size of a coin.

  She paused and finally de
cided to approach him. He didn’t even look up as she walked his way, which only increased her curiosity.

  “Good morning,” she finally said.

  He continued to stare at the gadget in his hands. “Good morning.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Finally, he glanced at her, a new hardness in his eyes. “You ever seen this before?”

  She squinted at the object, leaning closer. “I don’t even know what this is.”

  “It’s a camera. It was hidden on the shelf.”

  Her hand instinctively went to the bruises at her neck. She could still feel the man’s hands there, squeezing, as he threatened her. “Why would there be a camera on the shelf?”

  She knew the answer: someone was monitoring her. Who knew where else there were recording devices? They could have planted some on Bailey, for all she knew. With technology as advanced as it was in today’s society, a listening device could be a small as a pin tip, she guessed.

  “You tell me.”

  She took a step back. “What sense would it make for me to record myself while I was here?”

  He straightened, his aloofness returning at full force. “If not you, then who? Who came to visit my father in his final days? Anyone?”

  She shook her head. “The usual, I suppose. Mary Lou. Henry Wilkins. The pastor from the church down the road. Samantha stopped by with some freshly baked bread. A cousin came by. I’m not sure he ever said his name.”

  Ed’s eyes widened. “Did my father invite his cousin here or did he show up unexpected?”

  “I don’t think your father invited him. He seemed surprised and asked me to give him some privacy, though.”

  “And you did?”

  “Of course I did. Did you think I’d eavesdrop?”

  When he didn’t immediately respond, Bailey knew what his answer was. She seethed inwardly. Just last night she’d begun to think he was halfway human. She’d been wrong.

  She stared at him, irritation rising in her. “You really think that I not only listened in on your dad’s conversations, but that I put cameras around the house? Why would I do that?”