Holiday Illusion (3 page)

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Authors: Lynette Eason

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Suspense

BOOK: Holiday Illusion
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Only one way to find out.

“Where are you going?”

Lucas's voice startled her. She turned, gulped at the effect he had on her blood pressure, ignored it for the umpteenth time, and said, “I'm going to call a cab. I need to go see my former supervisor, Justin Michaels, and figure out if we can pull together a plan to put de Chastelain away for good—before he gets released.”

“I'll go with you. I've got the rental, remember?”

“I can take a cab, and besides, I'd rather you not go.”

“Well, too bad. I'm going. Paulo's stable and being carefully monitored. I've got my cell, and the hospital will call if I'm needed. I've got no reason not to go.”

“Lucas, that's crazy. I don't even know…I mean…”

“Exactly what are you trying to say, Anna?”

“It could be dangerous and I don't want you involved if I'm putting myself back into the line of fire.”

THREE

H
e stilled, keys swinging from his fingers. “‘Back in the line of fire'?”

Anna snapped her mouth shut.
Oh, Lord, he's been my best friend for close to three years. Don't let him do something stupid like think he has to try to help…or stop me from doing what I need to do.
She was well aware the only reason their relationship hadn't gone beyond friendship was because of his attitude toward God…and the fact that she hadn't quite put her past to rest. But she also knew the “more than friendship” feelings were right there waiting to burst forth and make themselves known.

Tucking the keys back in his pocket, he placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Brown eyes stared down at her. She swallowed hard as he demanded, “Anna, what do you mean, ‘back in the line of fire'?”

Tears welled, and she blinked them back. “Four years ago, I was…under special protection.” In the hospital recovering from a bullet wound and an emergency hysterectomy while the person who'd shot her got away clean, but she left out those details. “The two FBI agents assigned to guard me…died. They died protecting me, okay? I can't let anyone else get in the way, put themselves in the path of this killer. Especially not you.”

His eyes glinted at that last part, but he didn't address it. Instead he asked, “What else is there, Anna? What else were you going to tell me down in the cafeteria before we were interrupted?”

Glancing at her watch, she grimaced. How much should she say? Justin would be waiting for her, but she couldn't just walk out on Lucas. Spying two chairs down the hall, she nodded toward them, talking as they sat. “I knew de Chastelain was into much more than just tax evasion. I couldn't leave it alone. So, I decided to give it one more shot. My ‘employer' was still
supposedly
in India. His wife was at a party and the kids were in bed. I went down to his office to do one last search, but I heard a noise in the living room. Thinking one of the children might be up, I went to check it out, but as I got closer, I realized it was voices belonging to several men. No one was supposed to be in that house but me, the kids and the live-in housekeeper who slept on the third floor. Now here were these strange men in the living room and I had two kids to protect. Just as I was about to call 911, I heard some grunts, a yell, harsh breathing. Then I heard, ‘Get rid of him.'”

“Oh, Anna…”

“I peeked around the corner to see my employer, obviously not in India, bending over the body holding a knife. He must have flown home that day without letting anyone know. I decided to get out of there. There was no way I could take on all of them and live to tell about it. Backup would take too long. I fled, but must have made some noise because I heard someone coming. The closest room was his office. I slipped in and hid under the desk.”

Lucas shut his eyes as though he couldn't bear the picture she was painting. “When I scrambled under the desk, I heard something. A buzzing noise. It was coming from a little hidden drawer up under the far corner of the desk. I pulled it open and found a BlackBerry. I just knew that this was the evidence we'd been looking for. There was an e-mail waiting to be read—the buzzing sound I'd heard—so I clicked on it. It was asking if the ‘deed had been done.' I assumed the ‘deed' was the dead body I'd just seen. Anyway, I read enough to know that this could put the man away for a good long time, palmed the memory card, shoved the device back into the drawer and caught my breath. Then the door opened.”

Now Lucas looked a little mad. “I can't believe you haven't told me this during the three years we've known each other. What happened?”

Dropping her head to her hands, she muttered through her fingers, “I tried to forget it, Lucas.” Looking up, she added, “And it's not like I didn't want to tell you. I just didn't want to relive it. I haven't talked about it in four years. The only person I've had contact with is Justin. And it's not like you've told me every last detail of your life, either.” He looked away and she knew she'd scored a direct hit. Hmm…he was hiding his own secrets. She refused to feel bad for not baring her soul. “Anyway, when the door opened, I knew I had to get rid of that card. If he caught me and decided to have me searched, I was dead.”

“Anna, that's…”

“I know.” She waved him off. She couldn't deal with the pain, the sympathy, the fear for her that he had written in his eyes. Reciting the details of that night wasn't so difficult as long as she kept an emotional distance from it, as if she were talking about a past case that held nothing personal for her. But if he started showing concern, she'd lose what little control she had over her fear and her emotions. “I've been checking up on him, keeping tabs on the results of our sting, waiting to see if they ever found enough evidence to try him for murder, but just recently Justin said he's on his way out. He told me they never found any other evidence on him and certainly nothing to indicate a murder ever happened.”

“So what happened when he opened the door to the office?”

“I had to get rid of the card. There was an umbrella stand right there by the desk, so I dropped it in there.”

“Did de Chastelain see you there at the house? Does he know you saw him holding the knife?”

She shook her head. “No way. I realized I'd be next if they knew what I'd seen. I was in shock at the way things had gone down, but thinking clearly. Someone opened the door only seconds after I replaced the BlackBerry into its hiding place. I pretended to be searching for something for one of the children, making a lot of noise, muttering to myself, acting like I was completely unaware of anything else but my search. If questioned, I would explain that I had just tucked the kids in. Andrew couldn't sleep without his pacifier. The reality was I had one in my pocket. So, I pulled it out and tossed it into the corner near the desk.

“Anyway,” she continued as Lucas listened intently, “I knew my time to run was short. There were security cameras all over the house. What if one of them caught me standing outside that office door? I didn't have to get the card. I could only hope the books would be enough for a search warrant, which would result in finding the card.”

“So, what did you do?”

“I grabbed the books, walked out the front door and took off. I went straight to my supervisor and told them what I saw, that my cover was blown. Because just as soon as de Chastelain checked his BlackBerry and discovered the missing card, I was toast. We threw together a team and got a search warrant, but by the time they raided the house, they found nothing. The card was gone, but de Chastelain was furious with me for turning over his books. I was under FBI protection when someone tried to kill me. Two agents assigned to protect me were killed, I escaped through a fluke, flew off to Brazil. End of story.” She didn't bother telling him that she'd been shot coming out of the FBI headquarters and had gotten the rest of the story after she'd awakened from surgery. The words just wouldn't come yet.

“I don't think so.”

“Well, it's all you're going to get for now. I need to get going.”

“All right, let's go.”

Everything about him shouted he was going with her whether she liked it or not. She didn't, but could see she'd have no choice in the matter. Fine, he could come to the meeting…then she'd find a way to ditch him. For his own good.

 

Anna told Lucas she'd meet him at the car, but had to visit the ladies' room first. Entering the restroom, she walked to the sink to stare at the mirror above it. The room was empty, echoing every sound she made. Her breathing sounded harsh in her ears while her blood thrummed through her veins and her heart beat in rhythm to the pounding in her head.

Dumping those memories in Lucas's lap had felt…freeing somehow. And yet, at the same time, it brought even more clearly into focus her fears, and the turmoil she'd lived with for the past four years rumbled back to the surface, making her into a boiling pot of emotions. She'd needed a moment to get herself together before going to see Justin, because coming face-to-face with her former supervisor was going to bring back even more unpleasant memories. Memories she'd rather leave buried. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. Hearing the door whoosh open behind her, she scooted into a stall, not wanting to paste on a false smile or look anyone in the eye. Locking the door behind her, she leaned against it, still lost in fighting her reaction to the memories, the fear that wanted to surface and take over.

Footsteps sounded, stopping first in front of the row of sinks, then moving toward the stalls. Her senses tuned in and she stilled, zeroing in on the sound. The steps moved heavily, sounded clunky. Steps like a man might make. She froze, then turned sideways to peer through the crack. Broad shoulders, muscles, definitely a man. She caught a brief glimpse of dark pants, a white shirt. Hiking boots? Then the person entered the stall next to her. Wrong restroom or something more?

Anna shivered, swallowed hard as she acknowledged her only protection right now was a thin metal door. She hadn't wished for a gun in four years. Today, she did. Why was she so nervous? No one knew she was here.

Adrenaline flowed freely as she pondered what to do. Should she call out? Speak? Call Lucas on her cell phone? Justin? Shifting her backpack, she set it on the back of the commode, keeping her eye on the crack in the stall.

Fingers fumbled for the phone.

Hard metal touched the back of her head. She froze. Dropped her purse. Heart pounding, fear exploding, she remembered the feel of a bullet piercing her stomach. The bullet hitting her was memory. The feel of the gun on her skull wasn't. Gritting her teeth, she couldn't do anything about the shaking as she forced the words from her mouth. “What do you want?”

“Go back to Brazil before you get hurt, little girl,” a voice rasped in a low whisper from up above. He'd be standing on the toilet, hanging over the wall separating the stalls. “Don't bother calling the police. They won't find me. This is your only warning.” With the nose of the gun, he shoved hard, knocking her off balance. Her leg hit the toilet bowl. She missed catching herself and landed on the floor—hard. The door beside her opened, then swung shut. Retreating footsteps, the main door whooshing, then silence—broken only by the sound of her harsh, hiccupping breathing.

Her mind screamed at her to get up and chase him. Don't let him get away with this! But fear had her paralyzed. Nausea swirled. Fortunately she didn't have to go far to lose what little she'd eaten that day.

Then she got mad. Mad at herself for caving in to the fear. Furious at her weakness but still shaking, she opened the stall door and stepped out. Whispering a prayer, she gathered every ounce of courage, strode to the main door and yanked it open. She looked up one hall, then down the other.

Nothing.

At least, no one wearing the clothing she had glimpsed.

Okay, she was back to square one. The whole reason she'd entered the bathroom in the first place. She needed to pull herself together so she could go meet with Justin. And she needed to rinse her mouth.
Lord, I'm going crazy here. How did he know I was here? There's no way anyone can know. Justin is the only one.

By the time she stepped out of the hospital, after another deep breath, she had herself relatively collected. And she had a few questions for Justin.

 

Lucas headed to the car to wait for Anna to join him. Shoving his hands in his pockets to protect them against the cold, he made a mental note to purchase a pair of gloves as soon as possible.

Paper crinkled in his palm and he pulled it out to stare at the tract the teen from the airport had given him. The title caught his eye.
God has a plan for your life.
Hmm. Well, so far the plan wasn't exactly working out, in his opinion.

Maybe that's because you haven't given God a chance to direct it.

Whoa. Where had that thought come from? But then he realized it was true. He'd been pushing God away for so long, was it any wonder his life was upside down? Oh, it wasn't terrible. Brazil had been a definite improvement over what he'd left behind, he just felt…incomplete, like something was missing.

Like a relationship with Anna?

Or, more likely, a relationship with God?

“Hey Lucas!”

The shout brought his head around to see Mark coming toward him and he felt a huge sense of relief at the distraction from his thoughts. The smile on the man's face eased his instant worry that something had gone wrong with Paulo again. Mark reached him, saying, “I thought that was you.”

“I'm waiting on Anna. What's up?”

“Do you think you'll have any free time in the next couple days?”

Lucas thought. His main purpose for coming home was to be there for Paulo. And to reconcile with his father. No matter how hard he tried to deny it, no matter how much he tried to forget the reason he'd taken off for Brazil three years ago, the past still hurt and he wanted to somehow make it right. He'd be here a while. “Sure, I probably can arrange it, why?”

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