Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence Page 31
“Enemies who might have wanted him dead?”
“Plenty, I’m sure.”
“There’s no one who can help us?”
He shook his head. “I’ve seen too much, Bailey.”
“A lawyer who’s seen too much, huh?” Her voice lilted.
He wanted to pour everything out to her. He wanted to trust her and for her to trust him. But there were certain constraints that he had no control over. He had to change the subject.
“Why aren’t you married yet, Bailey? You seem like the marrying type.” At least, that was how Ed saw her. She was the type of woman a man wanted to come home to—kind, pretty, compassionate and warm. For some reason, she’d ended up here at this isolated island, where her chances were slim to none as far as finding anyone to share her life with.
“That ex-boyfriend I told you about? We were actually engaged.”
“What happened?”
“We had the wedding set and everything.” She shook her head. “I know this is going to sound strange, but he wanted to reschedule the date of our wedding to better accommodate his work schedule.”
“Really?” Ed could only imagine how that had gone over.
She nodded. “Yeah, really. He was an ad executive, and he had big plans for the future. For his future, that is. I’d felt like second place to his job nearly since the beginning of our relationship. But I think that was the final straw. I saw the rest of my life with him, and it wasn’t happy. It wasn’t what I wanted for my future.”
“I understand.”
“I’m really not the jealous type who wants someone to dote over me. But I do want someone who has priorities, who knows how to separate work from his personal life. I want someone who realizes there’s more to life than bringing in a big paycheck. Having time with loved ones is more important than getting ahead at work.”
“I agree. Those are wise words.” His attraction to Bailey continued to grow, as if it were out of his control. “You really do like it here on Smuggler’s Cove, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I do. Maybe I need to get with modern times, but I like feeling like I’ve stepped into another era—an era from the past.”
“You’re different, Bailey. And that’s a good thing.”
She stole a glance at him. “Enough about me. How about you? Have you dated any since that girl broke your heart?”
He glanced up in surprise. He’d forgotten that he had told her about his engagement. “Claire? No, I can’t say I have.”
“And what happened with Claire that made you leery of dating?”
“Claire wasn’t who I thought she was. When she was with me, she pretended to be one person. When we weren’t together, she was someone else entirely. When I realized that, I felt disillusioned and deceived. I didn’t like it. I haven’t dated, nor have I had the desire to date since that.”
“Understood.”
Good. He needed to put that boundary in place. Because he knew his feelings for Bailey were growing, and it was best to squash any potential relationship before it started.
No matter how hard that choice might be.
*
There was something about the thought of Ed being hurt that caused a surge of protectiveness to rise in Bailey.
The fact that he’d opened up about his hurt made Bailey somehow feel more connected to him. He wasn’t just the tough, slick cardboard figure of a man. He had a past; he had a history.
There were still a lot of blanks that needed to be filled in, though.
Every time her doubts started to cloud her judgment, Ed surprised her by opening up and showing a different side of himself. Put all of that together, and she felt like a tangled mess of emotions.
Bailey shoved her hands deeper into her pockets and enjoyed the feeling of the breeze hitting her face. Something about the two of them walking side by side, even without saying a word, felt right. The mere thought went against every part of her instincts.
She didn’t want to trust again; didn’t want to be hurt again. But Ed Carter was intriguing. And, when he let that side of him show through, he was kind.
“Ed, have you looked in the barn yet?”
“Did my dad ever go out there?”
Bailey shrugged. “He liked having moments by himself, just like I did, I guess. I usually went up to the widow’s walk. He really liked the library, but he did come out to the garage and visit Mr. Wilkins some.”
“It’s worth a shot.”
They started together across the yard. Ed unlocked the door leading to the garage, a building that was larger than some people’s homes. The shop area waited on the other side. This was where most of the tools and equipment were kept. Though Mr. Carter wasn’t the handy type himself, the previous owners had been. This had been a nice little workshop for someone at one time. The old equipment was still here, showing evidence of a true artisan. The scent of sawdust and oil saturated the space.
“I wouldn’t mind using some of this one day,” Ed muttered.
Bailey looked up at him in surprise. “Really?”
He leaned down to examine a machine. “Yeah, really. I’ve always enjoyed working with my hands. I liked building bookshelves and footstools when I was in high school.”
“That surprises me. I see you more as the playing-football type.”
“I did that, too. But we moved a lot. My dad was gone a lot. I had these visions of building my own boat one day and sailing across the bay—maybe even the ocean. Anyway, working with my hands always helps me to feel relaxed.”
“It’s important to find something you can do to help you unwind.”
He ran his hand down one of the tools. “Funny, I actually haven’t thought about that in a long time.”
“Well, maybe you can now. This place is yours. It will be the perfect place for you to come on weekends or whenever you need to get away.”
His lips pulled into a tight line. “You never know. Maybe I’ll do that.”
Bailey sighed and glanced around. “I’m not even sure what we’re looking for exactly.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
They searched the cabinets and under things and between old pieces of wood. There was nothing.
“There’s also the barn area,” Bailey reminded him.
“It’s worth a look.”
They stepped through a door and, even though there hadn’t been animals in this space for probably a decade, the smell seemed to be a part of the building. Bailey absorbed the odor of hay and dank earth and the musky scent of fading sunlight.
“This makes me want to grab a good book and a blanket and curl up in the hay with it,” Bailey murmured.
Ed looked over at her and smiled, an unidentifiable emotion in his gaze.
“What? What was that look for?” Bailey asked.
“Nothing.”
“It was most definitely something.” She raised an eyebrow.
“I just like the way you think, Bailey. I can’t see myself curling up with a book, but curling up in the hay sounds nice.”
“Curling up in the hay by yourself sounds nice?” she asked.
He let out a quick laugh. “Let’s just keep looking.”
Bailey didn’t ask any more questions.
They searched each of the stalls, under the hay, between slats in the wood. Nothing.
Ed nodded up toward the ceiling. “Hayloft. Last place, other than the actual garage. I’m not sure my dad could have gotten up there, though.”
“He was rather sprightly up until the last couple of weeks. I mean, sure, he had episodes before that. But he didn’t want to slow down.”
“Sounds like my dad. Maybe I should check it out first, just in case it’s rickety.”
“No way. I’m going, too.”
“Enter at your own risk.”
“You know it.”
Ed climbed the wooden ladder first, but Bailey stayed on his heels. Once Ed reached the top, he stretched his hand out to help her up. Bailey flinched at the electricity that
shot through them as their hands connected.
As soon as she could, she pulled her hand away and wiped her palm on her jeans. That spark had been unexpected, and she didn’t know what to do about the fact that her heart was suddenly pounding out of control.
Ed seemed unaffected and coolly in charge of all of his emotions still. The feeling had been one-sided, and that was fine with Bailey. She wasn’t looking for fireworks. Just to save her sister’s life. And a job would be nice, once all this chaos was over.
Unfortunately the blast of electricity left her feeling unbalanced. She took a step away from the ladder, only to trip on something. Ed caught her arm, but that only diffused her fall. She hit the hay and a whiff of dust ballooned into her face, making her sneeze.
“You okay?” Ed asked, bending down beside her.
She pushed herself up and sneezed. “Yeah, just fine.”
“I told you it might be rickety here.”
She scowled. “Yes, you did.”
“Why don’t you stay here while I check the rest of this place out?”
She flipped over, off her stomach and into sitting position. She hated to admit it, but he was right. “Sure.”
The loft was surprisingly large and, though she’d pictured only hay bales, there were several things that were covered up. She watched as Ed moved the sheet off the first mystery item. There were old bags of fertilizer. He searched between them and then put the sheet back over the stash.
As he was walking toward the next sheet-covered mass, the floor suddenly gave way. Ed went tumbling downward.
FIFTEEN
Bailey screamed as she leaped to her feet and ran across the loft toward Ed. She slowed her steps as she got closer, fearing more of the floor would give out. But before she even reached Ed, he’d pulled himself out and sat against the wall. Hay sprinkled his hair.
“Told you it wasn’t safe,” he muttered.
Something about the way he said the words caused Bailey to chuckle. Her chuckle turned into a full-out laugh, and Ed joined her. They sat there, both covered in hay and sneezing, and for probably no reason.
“I feel like we’re two kids who’ve snuck up here without our parents’ permission,” Bailey said, throwing a piece of straw from her hair to the floor.
“Tell me about it. I can’t imagine my father coming up here, not at his age. We obviously can’t even handle it.”
Bailey let out another long chuckle, the action a nice break from the tension.
Ed pushed himself up. “Let me check out these other two things, and then let’s get down.”
Bailey swiped the ground with her hands and froze at what she saw. “Ed. Look at this.”
He carefully crossed the floor toward her and bent down. There was fresh, new wood underneath the hay. A section of this loft had been replaced.
Ed continued to wipe away the hay, and what almost seemed like a walkway right down the center emerged. “How did we miss this?” he muttered.
“I think it’s right over the rafters. Listen.” Bailey knocked on the wood. The sound was dull and without any echo or reverberation.
Ed smiled. “I believe you’re right. That would be the most secure part of the floor anyway. It makes sense.”
The walkway led to a covered object against the far wall. Bailey followed Ed, making sure to stay on the new section of planks. She held her breath when they reached the end. Ed glanced at her before pulling the sheet down.
What they saw there surprised them both.
*
Ed blinked at what was beneath the sheet. He’d expected more farm equipment. Maybe a filing cabinet, at best. Instead, he saw—
“Lab equipment? What in the world is this?” Bailey asked.
Ed shook his head. “I have no idea why this is here.”
He stared at the worktable. There was a microscope, some camera negatives, cellophane and developing fluid.
“Maybe your dad took up photography and didn’t tell anyone?” Bailey offered.
Ed shook his head. “I wish there was a simple, logical explanation. That’s highly unlikely.”
“If not photography, what was he doing with this?”
“I have no idea.”
Ed lifted things off the table, looking for a picture, a paper, a camera. There was nothing.
Of course his dad had covered his tracks. His dad was the best at what he did, and Ed wouldn’t expect anything less. But that didn’t help Ed find any answers. What exactly had his dad been up to?
“What are we going to do now?” Bailey asked.
“We?” Certainly Ed hadn’t heard the question correctly.
Bailey nodded. “I’m in this with you. If someone hurt your father, then I failed in my job as his nurse. I was supposed to watch out for him.”
His heart slowed to a thud. “No one could have known.”
“Still, I feel responsible. I just don’t understand how someone switched the medication.”
“Whoever did it was good. Whatever that information was that Elmer Martin brought to him, I have a feeling someone wants to get his or her hands on it. It’s either because whatever’s in those files is incriminating or because it contains highly sensitive information that’s capable of bringing down organizations. Countries for that matter.”
Bailey shook her head and stepped closer, glancing over all the equipment. She finally paused. “I don’t know what to say about all of this. I never remember your dad talking about photography. The only hobby I remember your dad talking about—besides fishing and golfing—was listening to his old James Taylor albums.”
Ed glanced at her. “James Taylor? My dad didn’t like James Taylor.”
“He talked about him…”
“What?” Ed asked.
Bailey nodded, unwavering. “He mentioned him before he died. I figured he was talking about the singer/songwriter.” Bailey shook her head. “Is there someone else named James Taylor, Ed? Was that some kind of clue that I didn’t even pick up on?”
“It’s worth looking into. In fact, let’s get back to the house and do that now. In the meantime, I’m going to give some more thought to this equipment and ask Wilkins about this walkway.”
“I doubt he could get up here to build this.”
Ed agreed. “But Todd could have.”
“It looks like maybe we’re getting some leads.”
“Yes, we are.” Bailey grinned.
Somehow, being in this together didn’t feel so bad at the moment. He only hoped Bailey didn’t get hurt in the process. He would do everything within his power to ensure that didn’t happen.
*
The next morning, Bailey pulled her jacket closer as the wind whipped over the boat. When Ed had returned yesterday morning from the mainland, he’d brought his boat with him, which allowed them the freedom to come and go as they pleased.
Today, they were going to meet with Mr. Carter’s lawyer to hear the last will and testament being read. A knot of apprehension had formed in Bailey’s stomach at the thought. She really didn’t want anything to do with Mr. Carter’s estate, but since he’d requested that she be there, she’d honor his wishes.
After they finished with that meeting, they planned to pay a surprise visit to James Taylor. Ed had called someone last night and had volunteered a limited amount of information to Bailey. Apparently, there was a man with that name affiliated with Mr. Carter through the State Department. He was now retired and living in a DC suburb. Nothing about him seemed suspicious.
Maybe—just maybe—he would have some answers for them. They so desperately needed answers right now, and each of their leads so far had seemed to fizzle out.
When they reached the mainland, the rental car Ed had arranged for them was waiting at the pier. Bailey watched carefully as Ed inspected the vehicle as though he was suspicious something might be wrong with it. It didn’t do much to help Bailey relax on the drive. Had he been looking for a car bomb? A bug? She didn’t ask; she figured it was better not to know and
that Ed wouldn’t tell her anyway.
“You know this lawyer?” Bailey asked. “A.J. Andrews?”
Ed shook his head. “Nope. Never met him, never heard of him.”
“Ed, I just want you to know that even if something was left to me by your father, I’m not going to take it. I don’t do this job so people can leave me things after they die. I’m going to the meeting just out of respect for your father.”
“I know you’re not a gold digger, Bailey. If my father wanted you to have something, you should take it. My father never made halfhearted decisions. If he left you something, it was for a reason.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m still not sure I’m comfortable taking anything.” She was just ready to get this meeting over with.
A few minutes later, they pulled to up a regal-looking redbrick building in downtown Richmond. Ed found a parking space on the street before they hurried up the steps and through the heavy wooden doors at the front of the building.
“Ed Carter. We’ve been expecting you.” The receptionist turned to Bailey. “And you must be Bailey. We’re glad you both could make it.”
Bailey and Ed exchanged a glance. Did every client get this greeting?
“Come with me,” the receptionist continued.
They followed the woman across lush carpet, down the hall and to the office at the end. A man sat behind a desk there. He was younger than what Bailey had expected—probably in his midthirties. He had dark hair, appeared tall, and…he had a cleft in his chin.
“You’re the man who stopped by to see me at Mr. Carter’s house,” Bailey mumbled. He fit the description Mr. Wilkins had given her perfectly.
The man didn’t flinch. “That was me.”
“Why’d you go to Smuggler’s Cove?” Bailey refused to move from the doorway, not until the man explained himself.
“Why don’t you sit down and I’d be happy to clarify.” He pointed to the leather chairs in front of him.
Bailey shook her head. “I’d rather you expound first.”
His wide, bright smile dimmed. “I was coming to check you out.” He laced his hands together on the desk. “I counted Mr. Carter as a friend, and I didn’t want to see him make a mistake.”