Devil in Disguise (18 page)

He responded with a deep, rich chuckle that came from deep in his belly.

“I’m serious.” She was mildly hurt.

“I’m sorry. It’s just the way you phrased it. It’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

“What do you think?”

“I think the stress of the past few weeks has finally gotten to you.”

Rachel propped herself up so she could frown down at him. “Stop teasing me. This is a fairly huge revelation for me.”

He studied her for a moment. “You really are serious, aren’t you?”

When he saw the answer in her face, he gave his with a big grin as he scooped her into his arms and peppered her face and neck with kisses. She giggled as his sandpaper jaw tickled her sensitive skin.

There were a thousand things she could be worried about – that she should be worried about. But when Rachel finally drifted into a happy sleep that night, it was with the thought that she and Conrad were going to make very pretty babies together just as soon as they rid the world of this one particular brand of evil.

IF RACHEL HAD BEEN THERE
for any other reason, she would have enjoyed staying in the adorable house on Carroll Street that Rick and Veronica had turned into a temporary headquarters. Some of the streets she’d seen surrounding theirs looked a bit dicey, but the people-watcher in Rachel appreciated the unique flavor of this little neighborhood. It had only been a day, and she’d already fallen in love with the vibrant color of Cabbagetown.

Their street was narrow with a brick sidewalk; it was lined with a hodgepodge of Victorian farmhouses, bungalows, and shotgun-style homes whose architecture dated back one hundred years. It didn’t hurt that a little café with good wine and decadent tapas was within walking distance, either – or so Rachel heard. She hadn’t been able to venture out to see for herself. While not totally sequestered,
the general thought was that the more Rachel showed her face
around town, the greater the danger that someone would recognize her.

Still, the instant her feet had touched concrete, Rachel had felt
more comfortable in her own skin. She envied the fact that Conrad seemed equally at home in either setting, although he seemed much bigger here – maybe it was the crowded street. It was kind of like fitting a Great Dane in a compact car.

For the first day and a half after their arrival, Rachel and Conrad
had holed up in their room, studying the homework Rick had
assigned them upon their arrival. Each had their own flash drive
crammed full of facts, figures, blueprints, maps, names and places – anything they could possibly need to know to pull off their assigned roles.

It drove Rachel nuts that all of the curtains were tightly drawn. The time she’d spent with Conrad in Louisiana had made her a sunshine addict. Rick had done a sweep to verify their safe house wasn’t on the radar of any human traffickers, but they still had to take certain precautions: keeping the windows closed, avoiding the covered porch that beckoned Rachel to come and people-watch, and
jumping through so many hoops to disguise themselves when
coming or going that Rachel hadn’t yet mustered up the will to try. Not that it mattered; Conrad was going to be difficult to disguise anyway.

Veronica was in and out, never home for more than a couple of
hours at a time. Rick rarely pulled his nose out of the computer.
Rachel would set food beside him for breakfast and lunch, but inevitably, a
couple of hours later, she’d swing back by to grab the half-eaten remnants of his meal. The only time she had any real interaction
with either of them was dinner.

Rachel wasn’t offended; she was the same way when she was
elbow-deep in a story. But playing only a minor role in the current situation left her with too much time to miss her sister, her cat, and even her mother. She wondered how they were all getting along. She fretted over where her family would go when it was time to leave the safety of Neena’s home. She made herself crazy trying to solve the puzzle of where she and Conrad would go and what they would do once it was all said and done.

She found herself cooling her heels, waiting for the next step in her own story to unfold with no real assignment yet except to learn all she could about this particular group of traffickers and their operation. About the time Rachel decided she couldn’t shove one more piece of information into her beleaguered brain, Veronica came back from one of her trips with two people in tow.

Rachel had known they were coming and what their roles
were, but she wasn’t entirely ready for how young the beautiful
redhead appeared to be. Even though she knew the girl to be in her mid-
twenties, she had a youthful innocence about her that made Rachel want to protect her. The imposing man at the girl’s side was Rick
and
Veronica’s partner, Vance. He seemed more than capable of
protecting
anyone he damn well pleased. She was tremendously interested in hearing about the recovery he’d just returned from, having only
caught bits and pieces of the story so far, but they both looked exhausted. They excused themselves to take a cat nap while Rick went back to his computer and Veronica called her brother on the secure satellite phone. This left Rachel and Conrad with little else to do besides go back to studying.

“Does all of this seem completely surreal to you?” Rachel asked Conrad when they were once again alone in their room. “I’m
struggling
to wrap my brain around the fact that we’re here with a bunch of
spy-types getting ready to infiltrate a human trafficking ring – especially when it feels more like a dorm during finals week.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Conrad’s mouth. “So now wouldn’t be the time to mention that Veronica wants us all to go out for tapas tonight? She says it’s our last chance to do something fun before we get started tomorrow.”

“It won’t be dangerous, all of us being seen out together?” Hope crept into Rachel’s voice. She dearly wanted to go out.

“Maybe we’ll go incognito. I knew there was a reason I hadn’t bothered to shave yet.”

“Well, that and the scruffy look you’ve been sporting lately is kind of hot.”

“Is it? I thought you were a clean-cut kind of girl.”

“So did I,” she eyed him. “But there is something pretty fantastic about you right now.”

“Wow. You want a baby, and you like my beard. I’m struggling to process all the changes.”

“It’s not a Grizzly Adams beard. It’s scruff; that’s totally
different,”
she protested. His look said he wasn’t buying her argument. “Nevermind. I’m sorry I complimented you.”

With a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest, Conrad wrapped his arms around her when she would have walked away.

“Brat. Stop it. You can’t be a butt to me and then win me over
with…” Rachel’s admonishment died off, her mind unable to
process
what was supposed to come next. It was impossible to think of
anything with his mouth roaming the base of her neck like that.

It was a while before Rachel and Conrad got around to dressing for dinner, and they didn’t get much studying done. She did spend a lot of time relishing what it felt like to hold his beautiful face in her hands, the silk of his hair slipping through her fingertips.

When the time came, she donned a strikingly feminine sundress with rich blues and splashes of yellow in its floral print. With its v-
neck and tailored waist, it had a certain ‘60s flair that appealed to Rachel. She wondered who had stocked her closet and if she got to keep the clothes when this was all over. She immediately felt guilty
for
worrying about something as frivolous as stupidly cute clothes – until she found the heels that went with the outfit. Then she
wondered if she could keep those too.

She swept her golden hair into an up-do. After days in the sun with Conrad, her skin was already several shades darker than usual.
It wasn’t much of a transformation, but it was different enough from her typical style to make Rachel confident that unless someone looked closely, they wouldn’t recognize her as the face on the evening news.

Conrad had dressed in a pair of jeans and a white button-up shirt, the crisp, clean fabric standing in stark contrast to his deep
copper skin. It was a simple outfit, but he still looked like a present waiting to be unwrapped. He wasn’t exactly the kind of man who could go incognito – he had a very memorable presence. Still, between the hair and the facial hair, there was enough of a change in
his appearance that someone would have to be looking for him to recognize him – or so Rachel hoped.

Rick was adamant that no one seemed the wiser that any of them were in Atlanta, and human traffickers certainly weren’t staking out the Carroll Street Café waiting for them to go to dinner.

“Besides,” he promised her, “traffickers think people like you are a joke. If they’re going to go after someone, it’ll be one of us.”

“That’s not comforting in the least.” Still, Rachel decided if Rick thought it was safe, she should stop worrying and simply enjoy the evening.

And it was an enjoyable evening. About halfway through their second round of tapas, Rachel realized this was her and Conrad’s first date in over two years – an amusing thought, given the current status of their relationship. She leaned her head against his arm and let a happy sigh escape.

Across the table, Harmony was offering Vance some of the portobello caprese off the plate in front of her. Rachel knew little of the young couple, except for bits and pieces she’d caught at the
dinner
table. She knew Vance had been in Rome on a rescue mission when Julia’d been taken, but never found out why. Harmony was a mystery altogether. They fascinated her, though – so beautiful and so
in love.

“How did you and Vance meet?” Rachel asked Harmony.

Harmony paused for a beat before responding, making Rachel wonder if she had misread the body language between the young couple. “I was a prostitute, and he was hired muscle for my pimp.”

It was Rachel’s turn to pause before answering as she wracked her brain for a possible response to that statement. It was Conrad who came to her rescue.

“And here I thought our story was the interesting one,” he
replied with an easy grin.

“Sorry if I made you uncomfortable just throwing it out there like that,” Harmony apologized, a blush stealing across her features. “We’re going to work together, though, and I’ve found it’s easier to just get it out in the open early on rather than have my past hanging over me. I hate it when I grow to like someone only to have them flip out when they find out my former life.”

“My uncle used to say that opinions are like belly buttons: everyone has one.” Rachel impulsively reached out to take
Harmony’s hand. “I would venture to say that pasts are too. Anyone who would reject you for yours is most likely in serious denial about their own.”

Vance noticeably relaxed at her words. “I knew I liked you better than that other reporter guy.”

“Brian? I will be sure to tell him you said that,” Rachel laughed. “Actually, he’s a good guy, probably one of my favorite people in the business.”

“You know, he might be able to help us,” Veronica said, her
mind
turning to business. “Time is of the essence; if you brought him on board, he could help chase down the rest of the story while you’re here.”

“I thought about that. And truthfully, having both of us on the story would give it more impact. He’d probably be willing. I can call him once we have something to go on.”

“What if he won’t?” Vance asked.

“Then I’ll go back to New York and run the story myself,”
Rachel
decided, earning nods from around the table. They all knew the
importance of getting the media to break the story and of having a respected household name be the one to bring the tale to American living rooms and water coolers.

Human traffickers might consider those raising awareness a joke, but in truth, they relied heavily on the American public being unaware and unconcerned. The moment parents started registering that it was their own children in danger and doing something about it was the moment the scales would begin to tip in the fight.

The conversation grew light again. The wine flowed freely, and they all ate more tapas than they intended. When they made their
way back to the house, it was to curl up in the chairs and couches scattered around the living room, sipping coffee and having the
conversations they couldn’t have in a public restaurant.

“I have to ask – what happened in Rome?” Rachel saw her chance to get the scoop on where Vance had been during Julia’s rescue.

“That was an amazing rescue.” Harmony beamed proudly at Vance. “I still can’t believe that all came together the way it did.”

“I picked up some Internet chatter that suggested a child was going to be trafficked from our Eastern seaboard to the Mideast,” Rick began the tale. “We knew what state he lived in, his age, and his general appearance, but we had no name and no clue which town.”

“But Rick was able to track the planned route, and we knew the last leg of the flight was out of Rome,” Veronica explained.

“So I contacted a friend at Interpol, and they reached out to the airport in Rome to explain the situation. The airport delayed the
flight with a made-up story about engine trouble,” Vance recounted, taking over the story. “It was a nightmare, staking out the airport
with
no idea which child we were looking for – or if they were even still there. Rick kept saying they were, but we just couldn’t find the child who matched the description. Then a boy who’d been asleep on a
man’s
shoulder woke up, looked at the man, and said, ‘You’re not my
father.’ The guy took off, but Interpol jumped him pretty quick.”