COLE (Dragon Security Book 1) (6 page)

Megan

I touched my finger to my own last name on the placard outside Amber’s hospital room.

Cole shrugged. “They made assumptions when we came in, and I was a little too occupied to correct them.”

I just nodded, my eyes moving to my parents. They were sitting beside Amber’s bed, speaking to her in low voices that we couldn’t hear. But I knew what they were saying. They wanted to offer her any help that she might need. And, from the sound of things, she was going to need a lot of help.

“Holes in the floor, huh?”

“You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw it.”

“What was Peter doing with this girl?”

Cole shook his head, his eyes not leaving Amber. He’d been standing there staring at her since we left the room. And, before that, he’d been sitting close to her bed, playing with the fringe of blanket hanging off her mattress.

He was messed up. I could see it. The delivery had gotten into his head, done things that wouldn’t be easy to change. It probably would have gotten to me, too, delivering some girl’s baby in the middle of nowhere, especially if the baby belonged to my dead brother. It did belong to my dead brother. And that just confused everything and made it so much harder to figure out what the hell was going on here.

“She’s a quiet little thing, isn’t she?” Daddy said, as he came out of the room, Momma by his side.

I could see that Cole had something to say to that, but he bit his lip, his eyes flashing back to Amber before he turned to join our family discussion.

“We told her that she was more than welcome to stay at our house with us,” Momma said, her eyes moving over Cole, “but she said you already invited her to stay with you.”

Cole inclined his head. “I thought it would be best.”

“How’s that?” Daddy asked.

I wrapped my arms over my chest. I hadn’t wanted to get into all of this with them before, but now it seemed like I couldn’t put it off any longer.

“Do you remember when I asked you what Peter might have been doing in Ada, Daddy?”

“I do. But I still have no idea.”

“We think he was investigating something.”

“Something to do with the illegal use of software,” Cole helpfully added.

Daddy frowned. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Amber’s from Ada, and that’s where she met Peter. And there was a man following her who is connected to whatever Peter was investigating out there.”

“That’s why she came to us last week,” I said. “She was frightened by this guy, and she didn’t know that Peter had died.”

“How could she not have known?” Daddy wanted to know. “The news went national after his accident.”

“She claims she doesn’t read the paper,” Cole said. “And she probably doesn’t own a computer or a cell phone. She’s just a struggling waitress.”

Daddy shrugged, clearly accepting Cole’s explanation. But Momma looked sharply at him, concern written all over her face. She heard the same thing in his voice that I did. Cole didn’t believe what he was saying, but he was so attached to Amber now that he’d delivered her baby and realized that she was telling the truth about Peter being the father, that he wanted to believe everything she’d told him.

That was dangerous. I was beginning to think I’d made a big mistake sending Cole after Amber. I should have sent one of my other assets. But it never crossed my mind that Amber was in any real danger, or that Cole would fall for her so easily.

“Are you sure you can handle taking care of a woman and her new baby, Cole?” Momma asked.

“It’s fine.”

“Can we at least buy some furniture and things for the baby? I can’t imagine you’re too prepared for that sort of thing.”

“I’d appreciate it. She doesn’t have anything.”

Momma glanced at Daddy. “We can do that. It’s the least we could do for Peter’s son.”

Her face crumpled. Daddy slipped his arm around her and pulled her close.

“Keep us updated,” he said, as he led her away.

Cole was already halfway through the door to Amber’s hospital room by the time I turned back to him.

“Hey!”

He turned, leaning against the doorframe.

“Be careful. Don’t get in over your head.”

He inclined his head, but he didn’t say anything. He simply turned and went back into the room. He paused at the baby’s basinet, reaching down to touch his cheek. Then he returned to his perch on the chair beside Amber’s bed, leaning close to speak quietly to her. She smiled softly, weakly. Then she looked at me, her eyes haunted.

I stood there for a long minute, but I knew I had to go. There was something bothering me about Cole’s confrontation with the bald guy. I needed to check it out.

Things were quiet at the office when I walked through the front door. Sam watched me come toward her, concern in her expressive brown eyes. She waited until we were behind closed doors, and then she tugged at my arm and pulled me into her arms.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

I shook my head “no.” I hated to admit it to anyone, even my dear friend Sam, but it was killing my soul to see that baby and know that he was a part of Peter. I’d just begun to put my grief to bed, but this ripped it back to the surface like tearing a Band-Aid off of a raw, festering wound.

“He looks like him. I know he’s just a few hours old, but he looks like Peter.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I miss him. The whole time I’m sitting in that room, holding that baby in my arms, I’m thinking that Peter’s going to walk in at any second, laughing because he managed to miss the birth of his child. It kills me to know he’s not going to do that. Ever.”

“I know.”

I stumbled back and leaned on the front of my desk, staring down at my hands.

“Why did this happen? Why did my brother die?”

“It was an accident.”

“But was it? I’m beginning to wonder.”

“Why?”

I shook my head. “Why would he go all the way to Ada to ask some guy about the way his company was using some software? And why would that guy think that Amber Zavalas, some waitress my brother had one night with, would know anything about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I. But I don’t believe in coincidences, you know?”

“What do you want me to do?”

I chewed on my bottom lip for a long second. “Call Bobby. Have him track the bald guy down and find out exactly who the hell he is and whom he works for. Then have him go to Ada and see what he can find out about Peter’s visits. Have him talk to some of the other people who work at the diner, talk to people around town. But tell him to keep it on the down low.”

“Of course.”

“Then…Peter’s personal effects. I have them at my house. Would you help me look through them later this week?”

“You know I will. I offered before.”

“I know. I wasn’t ready. But I think I have to do it now.”

“What about his house? His office?”

“Daddy had the house packed up and most of the stuff moved to storage. And his office…Cole told me Daddy doesn’t allow anyone in there, so it’s probably still untouched.”  I chewed my lip again. “If I know Peter, though, he had with him whatever he was working on, especially if it was as important as I think it was. Otherwise, it would be in his office.”

Sam came over and touched my shoulder. I reached up and patted her hand. She was the only thing that had gotten me through Peter’s death. She was always there for the darkest moments of my life. When my mom made me get this awful perm in high school. When I fought with my boyfriend. When I was injured in Afghanistan and had to choose between leaving the military and taking a clerical position. When the love of my life left me standing at the altar…she was the only one who knew all my darkness and still loved me.

I squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be just fine. I’m the one who would fall apart.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I let her believe it just the same.

Sam started for the door and opened it at the same moment Hayden, one of our assets, had his hand raised to knock.

“Hey, grandma,” he said, his eyes moving slowly over the length of Sam.

She glared at him even as she tugged at the bottom edge of her pink cardigan.

“Go to hell, Hayden,” she said as she brushed past him.

“I’m sure I will. Someday.”

He watched her go, naked interest in his eyes as he did. The two of them got along like oil and vinegar. They were either going to sleep together or kill each other. I was rooting for the former rather than the latter.

“What can I do for you, Hayden?”

“Has she always dressed like that?”

“She thinks she’s quite fashionable.”

The truth was, Sam did tend toward the conservative in her style of dress, but it came from the fact that her mother was one of those nearly crazed, ultraconservative Christians. It was hard to break out from under that sort of control, even for someone as strong and together as Sam was.

Hayden shook his head.

“So I was in the office last week when that pregnant woman came in to speak to you?” He studied my face, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement. I gestured for him to continue. “I thought I recognized her. And, this morning, I realized why.”

He pulled a photograph out of an envelope he had in his hand and slid it into my hands. My heart stuttered when I realized what it was.

“You took photos at Peter’s funeral?”

“I was a SEAL. This sort of thing is kind of second nature to me.” He moved up beside me and touched a portion of the photograph that showed a couple of people standing behind the chairs that had been set out for family. “Isn’t that her?”

I held the photograph up a little higher so that the light would shine on it just right. Sure enough, Amber Zavalas, a thin veil over her face, was standing at the back of the crowd, off to one side, almost as if she didn’t want anyone to notice her. But she was there.

“She told Cole and me that she didn’t know Peter was dead.”

“Looks like she was lying.”

I stared at the picture a moment longer, noticing something else.

“Do you have more of these?”

“Yeah. A dozen or so.”

“Can I have them?”

“Of course.”

Amber’s face wasn’t the only odd one in the crowd. There was another face I recognized, one that shouldn’t have been anywhere near that funeral.

Kurt Sanchez.

He bullied Peter in high school and then went to work for a rival telecommunications company. They’d gotten into it a couple of years ago at some sort of conference. He absolutely hated Peter. Why would he be at his funeral?

It bothered me all the rest of the day. When I finally got home that night, all I could think about was a hot bath and bottle of wine. I lay there under the suds, my mind going round and round. But, as it often did, my thoughts began to drift toward Luke. He was my first love. My only love. We met as children and began dating my sophomore year of high school. All through high school, the military, everything, we stayed together. And, finally, he was ready to settle down.

“It’s all over, babe.”

That’s what he said. Like me, he’d gone into the military right out of high school. But after a year in the SEALs, he was recruited into the CIA. He couldn’t talk to me about what he did there, but we managed to sneak out time together between his missions and my work in the military. And when I left the military and started my company, there was even more time. And those weekends…it couldn’t possibly be that perfect with anyone else.

We had dreams. We’d talk about them on those weekends. And then he finally gave me a ring, told me no one else would ever be to him what I was. We went through the process of the engagement photos, the parties my mom threw. Laughed over the invitations with the tissue paper that my mom insisted on, discussed cakes and flowers and wine. Even bought a tuxedo that had to be custom made to fit his broad shoulders. We were going to do it.

The night before, we went to the rehearsal dinner together. He was relaxed, laughing with Peter and Cole, promising to never hurt me, pretending to be afraid of their threats to hurt him if he broke my heart. But then he got a phone call. He kissed me, told me he’d be right back, and disappeared.

To this day, I couldn’t make myself believe he walked away from me because he was afraid of commitment. I knew him. I knew him like I knew the back of my hand, the curve of my jaw. I knew he would never do that to me no matter what the note he left said.

Luke wouldn’t leave me unless he felt like he had no other option.

I called the CIA. They had no information they would share. I called his mother, but she was suffering early onset Alzheimer’s. She didn’t know any information. I called his friends, spoke to his landlord, interviewed everyone I could think of who might know something. But Luke was a CIA agent, and he knew how to drop out of someone’s life without leaving any loose ends.