Holiday Illusion (4 page)

Mark gave a shrug. “Just thought we could get together for lunch or something, you know, catch up with each other.” He gave Lucas a playful punch in the arm. “Hey, man, I've missed you.”

And Lucas had missed his best friend. Much more than he'd realized. “Lunch it is. Just name the place and the time.”

“Well, it might end up being hospital fare, but at least the company will be interesting.”

Offering Mark a grin, he agreed. Then he looked up to see Anna coming his way, beautiful as always…and pale, shaken, like something was wrong. He frowned, reaching for her hand as she approached him. The smile she pushed to her lips for Mark was forced and Lucas squeezed her fingers. She looked up at him. “Are you ready?”

“Ready when you are.” He got the message. Questions could wait until later. He nodded to Mark. “Give me a call.”

“You got it.”

 

Since their meal at the hospital had been interrupted, Anna and Lucas drove through the nearest Starbucks for bagels and a coffee.

She had called Justin from the hospital to tell him she was running late but on her way. Then she'd told Lucas what happened in the restroom, and he wanted to call the cops. But she convinced him it wouldn't do any good; she wanted to talk to Justin first. Lucas didn't like it, but decided to go along with it—for now. Justin was waiting for her as they walked in the door. He was a tall man, around Lucas's height with a military crew cut and a firm no-nonsense jaw that had felt more than one fist. The large bump in the middle of his nose said it had been broken once upon a time. Green eyes took in Anna's appearance in one sweep, then flared with recognition. “Anna Freeman? You don't look like the Anna I knew four years ago.”

“It's me.”

“The voice is the same, but…wow. You've changed.” He turned to Lucas, sizing him up and seeming to approve of whatever it was he saw. “Is he coming with you? We can talk in front of him?” At Anna's nod, he gestured them into his office, saying, “I would've picked you up at the hospital, you know. In fact, if you hadn't said you were leaving that very minute, I would've insisted.”

Lucas clenched his jaw at the man's tone, but he kept quiet. Better to watch and observe first, and act later.

Anna shook her head. “No need.” She'd tell him about the restroom incident later.

“So, who's this guy?”

“This is Lucas Bennett. Lucas, meet Justin Michaels.”

The men nodded at each other. Lucas and Anna took seats on the ugly green sofa from the nineteen sixties, and Justin sat in the faux-leather chair behind his desk. He looked pointedly at Anna. “You've been gone a long time.”

“I've been hiding.” In more ways than one. Not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“And you've done it well.”

Ignoring every unasked question behind those words, she decided to cut to the chase and said, “I think he knows I'm back.” She explained the restroom incident.

Justin frowned. “Not good, my dear. Not good at all. How would he know?”

“I don't know, Justin. You tell me. Did you have a trace on my passport?”

Her former boss flushed, and she said, “That's what I thought. Well, who's to say he doesn't have the same capabilities and has been waiting for me to come back? He knew I came from Brazil. He mentioned it specifically.”

Blowing out a breath, Justin shook his head. “It's unlikely, but not impossible.”

Anna fisted her hands on her thighs and looked Justin in the eye. “He's going to get away with it, isn't he?”

Justin rubbed his jaw, leaned back and crossed his legs. “Yeah, unfortunately, it looks like he will.”

“I want to find the evidence you need to nail this guy. I
saw
him standing over the body holding the knife. The man was bleeding on the floor begging for his life. Then he quit talking. Then they started moving the body, and I hid.”

“We searched for it, Anna. The office, the desk, everything. Nada. No secret drawer, no hidden BlackBerry, nothing in the umbrella stand…and no dead body.”

“I don't get it. I know I shoved it in there.”

“Well, our guys didn't find it. We even confiscated his computer based on the tax stuff and altered books you gave us. Our specialists still came up with nothing.”

Anna stood. “No, he wouldn't put anything on his computers. Not even e-mails. I told you that.” She sighed. “Then I guess it's over. If you can't find that memory card, I have no way of proving anything. You can't even figure out who the body might have been.” She closed her eyes, rubbed her forehead with thumb and forefinger. “Maybe I dreamed it all.”

Justin spread his hand in a beseeching manner. “I'm not saying I don't believe you—in fact, just the opposite. The fact that the security camera in that room had been turned off tells me something happened there and de Chastelain planned ahead of time to make sure it wouldn't be caught on tape. The attempt on your life made it obvious someone was out to get you. The deaths of two good agents mean that I believe you saw what you say you saw. I'm saying I just can't prove it. Somehow, I need to get new evidence on this guy and I need it soon.”

Anna couldn't pin down the main emotion raging through her right now. She felt fear, anger and disbelief that de Chastelain might actually go free. And part of that was her fault. She should have planted microphones all over the house, not just the office. Clenching her fists, shoving aside the terror at what she was about to say, she stared at Justin and let the words tumble from her lips. “What do I need to do to get back in the game?”

L
ucas protested, “No way, this is just too dangerous.” He looked at Justin. “How could you even think of putting her life in danger again? You couldn't protect her last time and even lost two agents, what makes you think this time would be different?”

Before Justin could respond, Anna placed a calming hand on Lucas's forearm, appreciating his defense of her but aggravated at the same time. “Stay out of this, Lucas. I appreciate that you care, but I didn't ask you to come.”

Hurt flickered in his expressive eyes right before a shutter closed off his feelings from her view. “Fine. I'll wait outside while you figure out how to get yourself killed.” He left the room without a backward glance.

Blowing out a breath, her heart told her to go after him. Common sense said the sooner he left, the safer he would be. She was trained for this, he wasn't. Mentally, she made another check mark by the category “apologies owed to Lucas” then focused back in on what Justin was saying. “…might need to get you back under our protection.”

No way. Not that. “Can you search his house again?” she asked.

“We could if we had probable cause. Unfortunately, I don't have that.”

“Then it'll have to be me.” Nausea churned at the thought. “I'll have to go back in there and find it.”

A surprised snort slipped from his nose. “I don't care how different you look. You'd be recognized in a heartbeat. No way.”

“Come on, Justin, even you almost didn't recognize me earlier. And you'll just have to come up with a valid reason to search the man's house again. You and I know his criminal activities didn't stop because he was in jail. As much as I don't want to do this and, honestly, wouldn't have considered it before this morning, I'm determined now, Justin.” She leaned back against the plastic sofa, crossing her arms over her stomach. “So we need to come up with a plan.”

“Still thinking crazy, aren't you?”

Anna swung around. Lucas stood in the door, one shoulder casually posed against the doorjamb. Her emotions lurched. But fear for him overshadowed anything else. She arched a brow. “I thought you left.”

“I'm back now.”

Justin broke in, back to business. “Forget it, Anna. It would be suicide. I can't even consider it. You know that. In fact, I should be tossing you into protective custody after that restroom incident.”

She bit her lip, thinking hard, examining her emotions. Was there any way in the world she could pull this off without the memories destroying her? She'd gotten herself to the place where she could hold a gun again, but what would happen if she found herself on the wrong end of one? Would she be able to handle it? She insisted, “I'm not going into protective custody. And I want to do this. I
have
to do this.”

“No!”

Anna cringed at Lucas's outburst.

Justin shot a look at Lucas, slapped his hands on his desk and rose to his feet. “I'm afraid I agree with your boyfriend here. You've been out of the field a long time. And your cover was blown. I can't even consider sending you back in there.” He shook his head. “No, we'll figure something out. Just give me a little time.”

How much more time did the man need?
She rubbed her left side, moving her hand across her abdomen. It was tempting to give in and assume someone else would take care of everything, but she couldn't take that chance. “So, what now?”

“Lay low. Hide out. We're actually working on something, coming from things at a new angle. If this works, the only thing we'll need you for is when all this comes to trial. So keep your head low and keep in touch, okay? And if anything else happens, you're going into protective custody whether you want to or not.”

Not likely, but she ignored that point. “A new angle? What new angle?”

“The wife.”

“Oh brother, you'll never get anything out of her. She's as jealous as the day is long, but she's fiercely loyal to the man.”

“Well, we've also come back to looking for de Chastelain's brother. It's crazy. There's practically no information on Brandon de Chastelain. As you know, both boys were in the foster care system forty years ago. But we can't find his records anywhere. Back then everything was done on paper. Things got misfiled, lost, whatever. Shawn is all over the place. But Brandon…” He shook his head. “Nothing. All we know is that the two boys were raised in foster care from the time Shawn was six years old. We haven't even managed to find a birthdate for Brandon.”

“What
do
you have?”

“I'm getting to that. There's a Brandon de Chastelain somewhere in Canada. We're going on the assumption that's the brother we're looking for. He's a street preacher, of all things. No known address, no credit cards, no bank accounts, you name it. There's nothing even on the Internet about him. He lives on the streets with the people he ministers to. We've been trying to find him for over a year now. We're thinking he moved on to another area, but we're at a loss as to just where to start looking.”

Justin was shaking his head, rolling his eyes. “But the brother was a dead end four years ago, so I'm not holding out much hope now. Nevertheless…do I need to put you up in a safe house somewhere or can you stay beneath the radar until we get this wrapped up?”

“You think it's going to happen soon or will I be ‘flying beneath the radar' while another four years go by?”

Justin flushed red, the vein in his temple starting to pound.

Anna held up a conciliatory hand, “Sorry, I'm sorry. That was uncalled-for. Although if that guy had wanted to kill me, he would have pulled the trigger. But he didn't, which is a bit strange. Regardless, I will keep out of sight as much as possible. But that doesn't mean I won't be working on digging for more information.”

“I'll watch out for her,” Lucas promised.

“And you're trained in…what?” Justin asked derisively.

“Well, I'm pretty good with a scalpel, and I'll be staying in a house with better security than Fort Knox.”

 

“You can stay with me,” Lucas announced as they left the FBI office, both of them shivering once again in the nippy air. The smell of hot dogs coming from the sidewalk vendor's cart tantalized her nose. Then his statement smacked her brain.

Anna nearly tripped on her way down the steps, his comment registering through the rush of memories that had just assaulted her. She was now standing on the very step where she'd been shot four years ago.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I don't mean with me alone, I mean with me…at my father's house, with the rest of my strange extended family and our loyal staff.”

Her mind played the mental video she couldn't shake. She could still see the bullet come from the crowded sidewalk, feel the burn as it slammed into her. She swallowed hard and stated absently, “I thought you and your father didn't exactly get along.”

“The understatement of the year, but nevertheless, that's where I'm going to stay. Trust me, there's room.”

She didn't respond, her mind caught in the vividness of the past. It had been a cold day, with snow dusting the streets. But the weather hadn't stopped the crowd from showing up and protesting the FBI's arrest of one of the city's most prominent businessmen and benefactors. She remembered the precise sound the gun had made as the shot rang out, the exact feel of the bullet as it hit her. Her breathing accelerated as she pictured the person with the gun, ski mask covering features she'd strained to see. The figure melting back into the screaming, scrambling crowd. Then she was falling, falling, everything happening in slow motion as sounds rushed by, voices called her name, then the pain faded and darkness settled over her like a warm blanket on a cold night.

“Anna!”

Blinking, she focused back in on Lucas. The concern in his eyes wrapped itself around her heart. His hands rested on her upper arms, and he'd obviously been calling her name for some time. He gave her another shake. “Are you all right?”

“I…no. I mean, yes. I was just…remembering something.”

“Not something pleasant, that's clear. Want to share?”

How did one share the kind of grief that was ripping through her very being, tearing her heart from the depths of her body? What could she say?
God, please help me.

“No,” she said. “I can't stay with you. I mean…I can get a hotel room. It's not a big deal.”

His expression said he didn't buy her evasion but was going to let her get away with it. Then he shrugged. “Maybe I want you there for the moral support.”

“Oh.” He needed moral support? To deal with his family? Obviously there was way more to his past than he'd told her during their talks in Brazil. She eyed him. “I don't think that's a good idea. I can't take the chance that I might put you or your family in danger. Somehow de Chastelain will find out I'm back—if he hasn't already. And when he knows, he'll be after me, mowing down anyone in his path.”

Lucas gripped her arm, pulling her to a halt. “Look, Anna, we've been friends for a long time. When you agreed to bring Paulo to America, I can't tell you how relieved I was. I wanted the time with you…was hoping maybe here, we could…” He looked away, seeming to search for the words.

Longing mixed with shock curled through her. He'd come for her. To be with her because he felt the same thing she did. He also knew why neither of them could explore the possibility of a relationship other than friendship. Yet. But his action said he still held out hope…

“I…I don't know what to say. I mean if the circumstances were different…” But they weren't. “Don't you understand? If something happened to you because of me…” Her throat clogged. “I can't take that chance.”

“It's not up to you. I'm a big boy. Sure, I'm here for Paulo, but you can count on the fact that I didn't come all the way back to America just to wave goodbye to you and send you on your way to face death all by yourself. I'm in this with you…all the way.”

“Lucas…”

Placing a finger over her lips, he shushed her. She gulped as he trailed the finger past her mouth, under her chin, then curved his hand around her neck. He continued. “And I know what you're thinking.” Narrowing his eyes, he promised, “If you decide to disappear, I'll hunt you down. I'll haunt the FBI office until someone tells me what I want to know.”

“Don't you realize the danger you could be putting yourself in?” Anguish curled in her stomach at the thought of what could happen to him.

He quirked a crooked smile. “Then you'd better keep me with you so you can keep an eye on me.”

She stared up at him, her mouth working, but nothing came out. He tapped her chin and her lips came together.

He sighed. “Look, my father suffered a stroke about a year ago. I almost hopped a plane when it happened, but Godfrey, my cousin, told me that it was very mild, nothing the man couldn't bounce back from, so…”

“You stayed in Brazil.”

Lucas closed his eyes, raised thumb and forefinger to rub them as though he could erase what lay behind them. “Yeah. I took the coward's way out and let Godfrey handle everything. I kept in touch with him and Father's been fine, recovering nicely. But when I started lining things up for Paulo…it got me to thinking that it was time to see if anything had changed around here.” He slid a narrow look in her direction. “And when you agreed to come…”

She ignored the fact that her entire being tingled at his last words. “So, has anything changed?” He was holding something back from her.

“I called Father from the airport and nearly shocked him into another stroke. Godfrey and Dahlia, his wife, have been living there, looking after things for the past nine months or so, ever since he came home from rehab. They're having the staff get our rooms ready.”

“You told them I was coming?”

“I told them there was the…possibility…I might be bringing a guest.”

“I see.” She eyed him, wondering if he'd really put his life on the line just to keep up with her. Yes, he would. But it was the fact that he'd so easily read her mind while she'd been thinking about slipping off and disappearing that really got her. Keeping him with her might be the only way to ensure his safety. She'd give it a trial run and see but knew she'd be looking over both sets of shoulders…his and hers. Throwing her hands up in surrender, she asked, “Okay, do you want to go straight to the house or back to the hospital to check on Paulo?”

“I'll give the hospital a call while we head toward my father's house. If Paulo needs us, they have my cell number.”

While Lucas drove and talked with the hospital, Anna made a mental list of what she needed to do. “Flying beneath the radar” wouldn't be possible if she was going to figure out what happened to that evidence she'd found and apparently hid too well. The only plan she could come up with was devising a disguise of some sort to throw them off her trail. She'd think on what kind later. But that would gain her access to the house, then somehow, she'd have to create a diversion, slip into the office and have a look around. She sighed. Who was she kidding? Four years had gone by. Shawn's wife had probably remodeled that house fifty times over by now. The umbrella stand had most likely gone the way of some tax deductible path.