Lie by Night: An Out of Darkness novel (Entangled Ignite) (13 page)

Chapter Seventeen

“Cole!” Emma switched the back light on and stepped out of the kitchen to glance about the yard. “Oh, there you are. Dessert is ready.”

She held the door open as Cole stepped out of the shadows and into the glow from the porch. As he drew closer, she saw the shadows in his eyes. She scanned the yard behind him, realization dawning.

When he reached the door, she lifted her hand to place it on his chest. Searching his eyes, she lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’ll explain after dinner.”

If possible, the line of his jaw grew even more rigid. With a curt nod, he brushed past her and walked back into the dining room.

Thanksgiving dinner had been replaced with many desserts. Pumpkin pie, apple pie, blueberry cobbler, cream cheese filled crescent bars, and pumpkin bread. Emma toyed with her dessert, making a valiant effort to eat.

Cole dug in with gusto, despite his tension.

“Uncle Cole?” Sam drew his attention.

“What is it, niece Sam?” Cole’s response elicited another giggle from the perpetually happy girl.

“I helped with the pumpkin pie.”

“You did? Well, it’s delicious.”

Grant reached for the pumpkin pie, only to find it swiped from his grasp by Uncle Cole.

“Oops, sorry about that.” Cole added a large piece of pie to his plate, clearly not the least apologetic. He offered the dessert to Zach next, making Grant wait until Zach and then Lizzie took a piece.

“Look, Mom. Everybody likes my pie.” Sam clapped her hands in satisfaction.

Her joy was lost on Emma who watched from the corner of her eye as Cole devoured the pie. When his eyes weren’t on his plate, they flicked to her or to Grant.

He had definitely seen her with Jack.

Grant.

The sooner they talked, the better.

After dessert, Grant announced he and Sam needed to head for his home. Sam ran upstairs to grab her overnight bag, and everyone migrated to the entryway to say goodbye. Zach and Cole lagged back, talking in hushed tones, before joining the group. When Sam reappeared, she hugged and kissed her mom and dad, then Uncle Cole. She stopped in front of Emma and regarded her with her mother’s eyes. She smiled with her father’s mouth.

“I like you,” she said.

“I like you.” Emma knelt on one knee, bringing her level with the little girl. “Thanks for sharing your pumpkin pie with me.”

“Will you be here tomorrow when I get back?”

Emma looked up at Cole.
I hope so
.

He said nothing.

“I’m not sure.” She forced a smile.

“Then I’ll hug you now just in case.” She launched herself into Emma’s arms, her little girl sweetness filling a hole in Emma’s heart that reopened as soon as she pulled away.

“Thanks for dinner.” Grant shook hands with Zach.

He, too, stopped at Emma. “It was nice to meet you.” He nodded infinitesimally and looked back at Zach and Lizzie. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Emma frowned at Grant’s back as he and Sam walked hand in hand out the front door. He knew she was going to tell, and he’d as good as given her the thumbs up to do so.

She looked at the rest of Cole’s family. They seemed to circle Cole, excluding her when before they’d embraced her.

Zach leaned to whisper in Lizzie’s ear. He placed a kiss on Daniel’s head.

Lizzie looked uncertainly at Emma. “Well, it’s time for this little guy to go to bed. I’m glad you could join us, Emma.” She headed up the stairs.

The minute she left the room, Zach’s gaze hardened. “Let’s talk in the family room.”

Emma followed him, with Cole bringing up the rear. It annoyed her that Cole had ratted her out to Zach without giving her a chance to explain.

The family room was as welcoming as the rest of the home. A fire burned cheerily in the fireplace, surrounded by a chocolate brown leather couch and love seat. A gorgeous stone fireplace rose from floor to ceiling, bordered on either side by picture windows that invited visitors to sit and enjoy the view.

Emma sat on the sofa, Zach on the love seat. Cole remained standing.

Getting right to the point, Zach opened the conversation. “You know Grant? From before?”

She nodded. “We dated during my senior year of college. I knew him as Jack Freeman.”

Zach leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Cole’s fingers began that familiar beat of frustration against his thigh.

Her lips turned down. “You’d just introduced him as Sam’s father. I wasn’t going to accuse him in front of his daughter.”

Cole wasn’t satisfied. “Would you have said anything if I hadn’t seen the two of you under the birch?”

Emma ignored his accusatory tone. “Yes, I was going to tell you. And Grant knew I was going to tell you once we were alone.” She looked from one man to the other. “I don’t appreciate being grilled. I’m not the bad guy.” Her gaze stopped at Cole. “I don’t think Grant is the bad guy, either.”

Cole said something under his breath that she didn’t catch. Ignoring him, she forged ahead. “Grant explained he’d been living under a false name because he was trying to escape Forrester.” Cole’s gaze burned through her. “He apologized and asked me not to say anything in front of Sam. I didn’t.”

“Thank you.” Zach looked from Emma to Cole. “Sam’s had enough trauma in her life; she didn’t need that. You did the right thing.”

Frowning, Cole turned to him. “It’s awfully coincidental, don’t you think? Grant and Emma, Jacob and Alistair?”

Before Zach could answer, Emma interjected. “Too coincidental.” She swallowed as guilt crept in. “He said when Alistair found him, he was happy about our relationship…that he noticed Jacob because of me.” She reluctantly shared this further evidence of the connection between Forrester and Jacob. Grant would tell them, anyway, when they questioned him. She glared at the men. “This doesn’t mean Jacob is in league with Forrester.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Zach agreed. “Unfortunately, it reinforces the magnitude of Alistair’s manipulations and that we’re still discovering everyone who’s been or who’s still being used by him.” With a worried frown, he stood. “I’m going to say goodnight to Daniel. Then, Cole, maybe we could talk for a few minutes before you leave.”

Cole nodded, watching Zach exit. He remained standing on the other side of the table. Emma rose, feeling disadvantaged by his height. He turned to her, his features a stone mask.

“How does Grant’s father figure into what’s happening?” The more she knew, the better prepared she would be for whatever happened next.

“His father is dead, killed a year ago in South America. We’re certain it was Forrester’s doing.”

Her heart skipped at this further evidence of Forrester’s brutality. She walked to the picture window, her gaze glued to the place where she and Grant had talked.

“You need to remember that Grant can’t be trusted. That when Zach and Daniel disappeared, Grant knew Forrester was behind it and said nothing.”

Emma raised one hand to touch the cool glass pane. The intensity of Grant’s statement fresh in her mind. “He had to protect his daughter.”
The way I have to protect Jacob
.

“That doesn’t excuse his silence. We could have kept Sam safe if we’d known.” He was furious. She didn’t need to look at him to know it.

“Really? Because, looking at it as an outsider, I’d say Grant had grounds for concern when Zach, Daniel, and Lizzie disappeared—Weston Security couldn’t keep them safe.”

“That’s because, at the time, no one knew about Alistair. Zach thought the man was dead.”

Emma considered this and nodded. “I’m not condoning his choice, but I understand it.” She turned from the window. “He had to protect his daughter.” She repeated the words, knowing he didn’t agree. They’d reached an impasse.

Uncertainty descended on the room, a dark cloud suffocating them both. It lingered until Zach and Lizzie returned. Lizzie glanced from Emma to Zach. “Well, the kids are in bed.” A note of indecision crept into her voice when her guests remained silent. “Emma, would you join me for a cup of coffee?”

Emma nodded, both relieved to step away from the tension between her and Cole and also frustrated they’d been interrupted before anything could be resolved.

But, then, some things couldn’t be resolved.

With a sideways glance at Cole, Emma followed Lizzie into the kitchen, where the other woman took two mugs out of the cabinet and poured. The coffee smelled wonderful.

“Black or with cream? Or a dash of Irish whiskey?”

“Irish whiskey.”

Lizzie poured a generous portion into both mugs, handed one to Emma, then sat and propped her feet up. She leaned back in her chair. “Make yourself at home.”

Unable to bring herself to put her feet on that beautifully upholstered seat, Emma rested her elbows on the table instead.

“So, you and Grant, huh?” Lizzie sipped her coffee.

Emma spewed a small amount of liquid back into her cup.

Lizzie grinned. “Sorry about that. I tend to say what’s on my mind.” She didn’t look at all contrite. “Hey,” Lizzie raised her glass in a silent toast, “We women who survived Grant have to stick together.”

Emma considered the completely inappropriate toast for a moment. What the hell. She raised her mug. “Cheers.”

Lizzie took another sip and then sat her mug on the table. “I’m not mad at Grant for keeping his suspicions about Alistair to himself. He had to protect Sam. When Zach and I were kidnapped, and Zach didn’t remember me because of the drugs Alistair gave him, I battled that every day. How to protect Sam. How to protect Daniel. How to protect Zach. It hurts me to admit Zach came last, but the kids couldn’t protect themselves. They had to come first.

“Zach’s not quite so forgiving, but then he lost more than I did—almost all of our memories together before the kidnapping. Gone in an instant.” A wistful look crossed her face. “But we’ve moved on. And Zach tries with Grant. We have to put Sam first. And she loves her father. Both of them.”

Unsure how to respond, Emma sipped her coffee and waited.

Finally, Lizzie continued, “Forgiveness is even harder for Cole than Zach. We’re all he has. He doesn’t like Grant, but tries to hide it for Sam’s sake.” Her mouth curved in a tentative smile. “He likes you, though, I can tell. He’s never brought anyone here before. Don’t hurt him, okay?”

“I don’t want t—” Emma started, but a sharp cry from the monitor interrupted her.

Lizzie rose instantly. “I know the supposed experts say to let him cry, but, well, I have to check. Something like the kidnapping, it never leaves you.” She headed for the hallway, and called, “I’ve got him!” In the doorway, she turned back to Emma. “I hope we see more of you.”

Alone, Emma sat at the kitchen table until her coffee grew cold. She’d learned a lot today. Maybe too much. Both intellectually and emotionally, she now understood why Cole was determined to protect this—his—family. He should understand her desire to protect Jacob. Rising determinedly, she went in search of Cole and Zach.

She stepped into the hallway and stopped, listening in an effort to get her bearings. Hushed, male voices drifted from the hall to her left. She followed them, stopping short at the mention of Jacob’s name.

“I think it’s obvious he’s connected to Forrester. And it’s possible he’s not part of the inner circle.” Cole’s voice. “And it’s possible he not.”

“We have to be careful.” Zach responded. “We can update the agents working on the project tomorrow, and I’ll talk with Grant to see if he knows anything else. We’ve got to protect Daniel. He’s the one Alistair really wants.” There was no humor in his harsh chuckle. “The old man’s obsession with an heir won’t end until he’s dead.”

“About Jacob…” Cole’s voice trailed off.

“It’s a mess, I know,” Zach told him. “I want to protect anyone caught in Alistair’s web, but if it we find out Jacob knew what he was doing, it’ll be hard for Emma to accept.”

“No, it’ll be impossible.” Cole sounded weary, his earlier anger abated. “We better get going.”

Hearing them rise, Emma tiptoed back down the hall and slipped into the family room to sit in front of the fire. Seconds later, the men appeared in the doorway.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Zach’s apology did nothing to ease the pain in her heart. “It was great to have you join us for Thanksgiving.”

She rose, extending her hand. “Thanks for having me.”

“I hope we see you again soon.” Zach stepped forward and gathered her in a bear hug instead. “Anyone my daughter likes is always welcome in our home.” He walked them to the front entry and retrieved their coats, helping Emma into hers while Cole donned his. “I almost forgot.” A smile split his face. Reaching back into the closet, he pulled out Emma’s suitcase.

Her treasured gift from Jacob! “What? How?”

“Cole asked me to try and track down your luggage. It arrived this morning.”

The full implication of Zach’s reach and influence settled heavily on her. He was a good man to have on your side. And an even more formidable enemy. She forced the thought aside and smiled. “I don’t know what to say.” She took the case from him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“We should both be at the office tomorrow,” Cole said as he and Zach shook hands.

Emma and Cole left in the black Escalade, driving in silence. Cole said nothing about his conversation with Zach and how strongly they suspected Jacob was part of the
inner circle
.

Cole was keeping things from her.

She wanted to be angry, but unfortunately, she understood.

Because she was keeping something from him, too.

Chapter Eighteen

The thirty minute ride to Cole’s home in Tarrytown passed in uncomfortable silence.

Cole started to speak several times, but felt his temper rise with each attempt. It wasn’t Emma’s fault that she’d known Grant before. That he’d used an assumed name. That she and
Jack
had been lovers.

That she seemed inclined to trust the man.

Wasn’t it enough that his suspicions about Jacob stood between them?

Hell, he didn’t know how Zach was able to open his home to the untrustworthy ass who’d once been his wife’s lover. And now Cole discovered this man whom he despised shared a history with his…

His what?

His woman. Maybe Emma hadn’t been too far off when she’d called him a Neanderthal.

It occurred to him that he’d just assumed Emma would want to go back to his house. After today, he wondered if maybe he was assuming too much.

He cleared his throat. “We’re going back to my place.” He hesitated, giving her time to respond. When she remained silent, he tried again. “Is that okay?”

“I think the better question is whether or not it’s okay with you.” She slid a biting glance his way. “I’m not some obligation you’re stuck with. If you prefer, dropping me off at a hotel is just fine.”

The tic in his jaw returned in force.

“As a matter of fact,” her pique gained steam, “If you can’t show a bit of…”

Cole smacked his hands against the steering wheel. “Damn it, Emma.”

That was it. He couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Damn it, Emma.
Way to extend the olive branch.

Getting a firm grip on his temper, he glanced at Emma. Stubborn, vulnerable.

Alone.

He tried again. “I would like for you to stay with me tonight.”

She stared at the road.

“You can have your own room.”

She continued her intense perusal of the scenery.

“If that’s what you want.” Cole forced his tone to remain mild. It sure as hell wasn’t what he wanted.

They pulled into his driveway. His sprawling brick ranch nestled on three acres of land in a subdivision where everyone boasted acreage. With an old fruit orchard that gave way to a dense, wooded area bordered on one side by a large creek, he considered this his own little piece of God’s country. Despite the rift between them, it felt good to bring Emma here.

The silence continued as they entered the house. Cole dropped the luggage in the small entryway and faced her. “I’m concerned about your history with Grant. I’m concerned by the fact that you seem to trust him, even though I find his actions self-serving at best and dangerously irresponsible at worst.”

Nice, he told himself wryly. Way to take a conciliatory approach. He shut and locked the front door, then paused before he turned to face her.

She waited with arms crossed over her chest, her back resting against the wall, her demeanor more relaxed. “I understand your concern, but you need to understand mine as well. This situation…it’s complicated and full of coincidences you don’t like. Yes, I had a relationship with Grant. But I had no way of knowing you even existed then or that I’d meet you one day and think
this guy’s pretty great
.” A tiny smile threatened the corner of her mouth as she made an obvious effort to lighten the mood—and divert him from the real issue.

Cole stalked toward her, caught her face between his hands, and lowered his mouth to hers.

On a sigh, Emma’s hands crept up his shirt front to play with his top button, setting it free even as he nipped her lower lip and breeched her mouth with his tongue.

She responded by molding herself against him. He groaned and raised his head. Searching her eyes, he struggled to make her understand. “This isn’t about me being jealous, although it does give me one more reason not to like Grant.”

“I know it’s not about you being jealous.” She went to work on the second button and sighed. “Like I said, it’s much more complicated.”

His lips brushed her hair. “I know you’ll do what you think you must in order to protect Jacob. I’m just asking you to be careful who you trust.”

“I don’t have to trust someone to appreciate their help.”

He frowned, uncertain if she referred to him or Zach or Grant—or all three of them.

Tilting her head, she searched his face. “I trust you,” she whispered.

His hands tangled in her hair as he weighed her words. She trusted him, but refused to follow his directions for her safety. He admired her independence even as it drove him crazy.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip.

To hell with it, they’d argue tomorrow. He nuzzled her ear. “Uh, just a minute ago, did I hear you call me a really great guy?”

She responded with a tantalizingly slow ascent of her head.

His voice lowered to a husky whisper, “Would you say that you like me more than just a little, that maybe, just maybe, you like me a lot?”

“Yes,” Her answer exhaled on a whisper, barely escaping before he captured her mouth again.

“Well,” he spoke between kisses, “That’s good because you, Emma Bailey, are my kind of girl.”

Humor and passion bloomed in her expressive eyes. “So, I’m your type?”

He slipped his fingers deep into her silky hair. “Yes, you are.” He lifted her off her feet, and headed for his bedroom.

There was no more talk of Grant or Alistair or Jacob. For a few blessed hours, there was only Cole and Emma.

…

The morning sun peeked through the bedroom blinds before reality intruded again.

“I want you to stay away from Grant.” The minute the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake.

“Look, Cole, it’s sweet that you’re jealous, but really you have nothing to worry about.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not jealous.” Then, because he did want to have honesty between them when possible, he amended, “Well, I might have been a little jealous.”

Surprise flitted across Emma’s face. Interesting. She’d launched the jealous comment to distract him again, but distract him from what?

“Uh huh. You didn’t really think I was jealous.” He watched her closely.

She shrugged, a faint flush suffused her face. Guilt or embarrassment?

Cole rested his forehead against hers. “Stop trying to distract me. Let’s try this again. Please stay away from Grant. I don’t trust him.”

“But Zach and Lizzie trust him.” She frowned and tilted her head up to look into his eyes, forcing him to pull back a few inches.

“They trust him to protect Sam. But they don’t trust him with Daniel, for example. They don’t trust him to tell us where Forrester is. And I sure as hell don’t trust him to look out for you.”

Emma sighed. “Okay. If it makes you feel better, I won’t seek out Grant. I mean, I hadn’t seen him for years before yesterday, and I don’t have any plans to partner with him and search for Jacob.” Her brow knit. “But finding my brother is my priority.”

“I know.” This was as close to a promise as he was going to get. “Okay. Now, where were we?” He leaned in for a kiss, cupping her face as his fingers slipped into her silky hair, and his thumbs traced the line of her delicate jaw.

His phone rang. With a glance at caller ID, he sighed and rolled upright, his free hand lingered, drifting down to gently massage Emma’s neck.

“Stevens.”

Forty-five minutes later, showered and dressed, they were out the door.

…

Emma zipped her jacket and stepped out into the Westons’ backyard, still annoyed with Cole for thinking he could dump her whenever he wanted so he and Zach could pursue leads without her.

“We have an urgent team meeting you can’t be part of,” they’d explained, as though she needed a reminder that the scope of their confidential search was broader than Jacob. “It’ll only take a couple of hours.” They promised to engage her in the search when they returned.

But two hours had come and gone, and despite Lizzie’s hospitality, Emma was going crazy. Even though she had no idea what to do next, she should be searching for Jacob right now. She took a deep breath of the crisp, fall air and surveyed her surroundings. The Westons’ home was beautiful, but it was the park-like yard that drew her. Large oaks and pines dotted the perimeter leading into the surrounding woods. She meandered down a gracefully twining path, stopping occasionally to examine one of the many native plants that filled the yard.

The microchip Jacob had secreted in her birthday Mace haunted her. What if, instead of just holding incriminating evidence about a traitor, it also held answers to Jacob’s whereabouts? She’d almost told Cole about it this morning, but her exclusion from the team meeting drove reality home—she didn’t know everyone with whom Cole would share the information. Cole wanted her to be careful whom she trusted? Well, this was her being careful.

He was so concerned she might trust Grant. Why couldn’t he see that the person they should fear was more likely one of their own—someone in Weston or Homeland Security or the government, someone considered trustworthy.
Trust no one
. Brushing hair from her face, she sighed. Good grief, she didn’t trust Grant any more than she trusted Cole when it came to Jacob’s safety, but Grant was a direct link to Alistair, and if he came across information that might help her, she wouldn’t refuse it.

A little tree toward the back of the yard caught her eye. It seemed out of place, an ornamental tree amidst an array of indigenous plants. She followed the path as it wound through long grasses and wildflowers that must be gorgeous in the summer.

When she reached the small tree, she crouched down for a closer look.

“Emma!” The sound of flying feet accompanied Sam’s shout. Emma looked over her shoulder to see the little girl hurtling toward her while Zach and Lizzie followed at a more sedate pace, Zach’s arm looped over Lizzie’s shoulders. “Daddy and Cole picked me up early. I’m glad you’re here.” Cole was nowhere in sight.

A pang of longing pierced Emma’s composure. The Westons had something very special, a connection that had survived daunting adversity. The kind of connection and commitment that might be possible with Cole if their relationship survived suspicions and partial truths—and, she admitted to herself, if Jacob came home safe. “Hey, Sam.” Emma opened her arms to receive the girl’s exuberant hug and felt her own spirits lift. “I was just looking at this little tree.”

Sam practically bobbled with excitement. “That’s my tree. Daddy and I planted it after a storm. The lightning came out of the sky,” she reached up and brought her arms swinging down in her best lightning bolt impression “and it split the old tree right down the middle.”

Emma grinned. Sam’s words mimicked something an adult had said.

“So me and Daddy,” Sam looked up at Zach and wrinkled her nose, “Daddy and I went to the nurs’ry and I picked out the tree. It’s a…” Sam tapped her forefinger against her nose. “Remember, Daddy? What is it?”

Emma looked at Zach. Pain flitted across his face, so quickly there and gone that she’d have missed it if she hadn’t looked at exactly the right moment. Nestled beneath his shoulder, Lizzie reached up and gave his hand a squeeze.

“It’s a dwarf fruit tree. Most people grow them when they don’t have a lot of space.” Lizzie smiled.

“That’s right.” Sam grinned and reached for Zach’s free hand. “But we grow it because it’s cute!” She snickered at Emma. “Dwarf, like Snow White! Come on, Mom and Daddy, let’s go to the lake.”

“You go without me,” Lizzie waved toward the path. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

Zach turned to kiss Lizzie on the cheek and allowed Sam to pull him down the path. “If you chat for too long, don’t worry, we’ll be back in a bit.”

Father and daughter headed toward the pathway to the lake. As they approached the tree line, Zach swung Sam high above his head and settled her on his shoulders. Her squeals of laughter floated back long after they disappeared into the forest.

Emma turned to Lizzie, surprised to see the sheen of tears in her eyes. “Lizzie?” She spoke hesitantly, afraid of intruding.

Lizzie startled, clearly lost in her own world.

“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just, well, you know about Zach’s memory, how Alistair injected him with a drug that blocked his memories.” Lizzie looked at her. “At least we hope it’s just blocking them, and they’re not gone forever.” She paused. “You’d think we’d be used to it. Usually, we are, but there are times it sneaks up on us. Only Sam has the memory of them planting that tree. Zach has only the things we tell him.” Her gaze wandered back to the path her family had taken.

“You said yesterday that he remembers some things?”

“A few things for sure, but most things—it’s hard to know what he remembers and what has become part of his life again because it’s our routine. Or we’ve told him stories or he’s looked at the photo albums. He never complains, but I know it hurts.”

She turned her gaze back to Emma. “We can’t even live in this beautiful place in peace. We have guards everywhere. They’re discreet, and they’re our friends, but still. What I wouldn’t give for the days when we could leave the house and walk to the lake, make love under the trees and have privacy.

“They’re discreet,” she repeated, “But they’re always watching.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Too much information.” A faint blush rose in her cheeks. “We have a wonderful life, and it’s incredible that we found our way back to each other. And even if Zach never remembers our first courtship or our wedding or either of the kids’ births, we make new memories every day.” She grabbed Emma’s hands, suddenly very intense. “You and Cole be careful. Alistair’s evil, and he’s smart. I’d run a knife right through his heart if I had the chance.”

She released Emma’s hands. “Cole’s in the family room. He had to take a phone call just as he was heading out to find you.” She smiled sadly. “We try to keep the conversations about Alistair away from Sam’s ears. Most of the time, she’s a happy, normal little girl. But she still has occasional nightmares of the time when Zach, Daniel, and I disappeared.” With a last squeeze, Lizzie dropped Emma’s hands and strode off in pursuit of her family.

Wanting time to absorb Lizzie’s words, Emma continued her walk.