Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (32 page)

Bailey's anticipation deepened. Would this man have any answers? Was that asking too much?

After several minutes passed, it became apparent that no one was coming to greet them.

“Should we head back?” Bailey asked.

Ed's eyes narrowed with the thought. “Not yet.”

He started down the steps and began to skirt around the house. He peered into the garage window. “His car is here.”

“Maybe he has more than one,” Bailey suggested.

Ed shook his head in that way that made her think he knew something she didn't. “I think someone's home.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I can still smell the bacon they cooked for breakfast.”

Bailey's chills intensified. What was going on? Were they too late getting here? Had something happened to James Taylor?

Before she could ask any more questions, a bullet whizzed past. Ed threw her on the ground just as another one buzzed by her ear.

Someone was shooting at them.

Which meant they were onto something.

She only hoped they lived long enough to pursue their new lead.

* * *

“Who's trying to kill us?” Bailey yelled.

Ed pushed her head back down, sheltering her from the incoming bullets. “I don't know. Stay down, though.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun. He should have never brought Bailey with him. Of course, who would have known this would happen?

“We need to get you back to the car.”

“What about you?” Bailey asked, panic lacing her voice.

“I'll worry about me.”

“Is there just one shooter?” She pressed her face into the house, almost as if she was trying to become one with the wall there.

He lifted his head, trying to get a glimpse of something—anything. It was no use. “As far as I can tell, the bullet came from the garage.”

Just then, more ammunition hit the ground.

“Stay where you are,” Ed ordered.

He raised his gun and peered around the corner. He couldn't see anything. He had to get closer.

He crept toward the garage, staying low. Cautious. On guard.

He counted to three and dived toward a gazebo between the garage and the house. More bullets flew, barely missing him.

When things went still, Ed peered up. Someone peeked around the window. He'd only seen part of the face, but the man looked familiar.

Was that...? Could it be...?

“James? James Taylor?” Ed spoke loudly, trying to make sure his voice carried. “It's me. Ed Carter. Bill's son. We just want to talk.”

Silence stretched, tight and thick. Finally, a man stepped out, still holding his gun, his face scrunched with distrust.

James stared at him a moment before lowering his gun and nodding. “You have the same eyes.”

“That's what people always say.”

James scanned behind them. “You may not be safe here. We should get inside.”

“What's going on?” Ed didn't like the implications of what he was saying.

“I'll tell you once you're inside. But I can't promise my house will be safe for much longer.” He waved him toward the house.

Ed reached for Bailey and kept her close as James ushered them inside. He quickly closed the door, turned three locks into place and pulled a safety latch shut. He wasn't taking any chances.

“Let's go in the den,” James ordered. “There are no windows there.”

They stepped into a dark room, located off the main entry. Deer heads, ducks, hunting caps and guns decorated the walls.

Every part of Ed was on alert, waiting for what would happen next. He knew the gut-wrenching feeling of when danger lurked close by and that was what he felt now.

James stood by the entryway, the pistol still in his hands. His gaze was tense, constantly scanning the rest of the house, as if he suspected someone might come bursting inside at any minute.

“What's going on, James?” Ed asked, standing on the other side of the doorway.

He nodded warily at Bailey. “Who's that?”

“I'm Bailey. I was Bill Carter's nurse.”

“Can you trust her?” James looked at Ed.

Ed nodded. “Yeah, we can trust her.”

James peered around the corner again. “Someone's after me. I'm sure of it.”

“Why are you so sure?” Ed asked.

“Elmer Martin stopped by about two weeks ago. He had some papers.”

Finally! Maybe they'd get some answers.

“Papers worth killing over?” Ed asked.

James scanned the front of his house again. “Absolutely worth killing for. I told him he needed to turn the information over to the authorities. He told me he couldn't.”

“Why?”

“He thought some of the higher-ups were working for the other side. He didn't know whom he could trust. Then I heard he ended up dead. Not long after that, I started getting that feeling like someone was watching me. I knew your father's death wasn't from natural causes. I also know my turn is coming up soon.”

“How'd you know my dad?” Ed asking, trying to gauge the man's level of truth.

“We worked together at the State Department. I retired a few years before he did.”

“What did this information pertain to?” Ed asked.

“It's twofold. It implicates people at the CIA, but it also reveals intel about the hostage—”

Just then, glass at the front of the house shattered.

SIXTEEN

“I
t's a grenade!” Ed shouted. “Get down!”

Ed covered Bailey with his body just as an explosion rocked the house. Debris rained down on them. When the flames ceased, smoke lingered in the air.

Bailey waited to hear the sounds of men invading the house. Of gunfire. Of more grenades.

Instead, she heard the sizzle of fire and the crackling flames in the aftermath of the explosion.

Ed pushed himself off Bailey and glanced back. James lay on the floor, a section of the wall on top of him. Ed scrambled toward the man and put a finger at his neck.

“He's dead,” he muttered. “The blast got him.”

“What are we going to do?” Panic threatened to overtake her, but she held the emotion at bay. She'd never survive this if she succumbed to her fears. Despite her attempted bravado, trembles shook her muscles.

“We've got to get out of here. Stay where you are while I find a way out.”

She grabbed Ed's arm, the thought of being alone—or something happening to Ed—enough to shake her to the core. “Let me go with you.”

He leaned closer, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline. He squeezed her arm, locking his eyes with hers. “It's safer here.”

“I don't care. Please don't leave me alone.”

He finally nodded and motioned for her to stay close. Bailey kept one hand gripping his arm as they crept toward the entryway. Ed stayed against the wall, moving slowly, stealthily. He reached the window and peered around.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing,” he whispered, his muscles taut beneath her hand. “Absolutely nothing.”

Bailey wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

“I don't know what they're planning,” Ed muttered. “We need to get out of here, though.”

“Just how do you plan on doing that?”

He hurried back toward James, reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “I have an idea.”

Bailey stayed behind him as he rushed through the house. Ed slowly opened a door near the kitchen. Darkness stared at them from the other side. Carefully, Ed took his first step inside the room.

The garage, Bailey realized. This was the garage.

Ed reached for her hand and pulled her inside the room. The silence was almost scarier than the bullets had been.

Bailey waited for someone to jump out, for someone to attack. Nothing happened. The only sound was that of their feet on the cement beneath them.

Quietly, Ed unlocked the passenger door of the massive black SUV parked there. He ushered her inside and gently closed the door with barely a click.

Bailey's skin crawled as she anticipated what might happen next. Would they be ambushed? Were these bad guys just waiting for Ed's next move, just waiting for another attack? She didn't know, and not knowing had caused her blood pressure to spike uncontrollably.

Ed silently climbed inside.

“Put your seat belt on,” he whispered.

With trembling fingers, she fastened it in place. She had no choice at the moment but to trust Ed completely.

Quickly, he slipped the keys into the ignition. Then he cranked the engine, put the car in Drive and jammed his foot on the gas. The vehicle burst through the garage door.

Bailey screamed. Her fingers dug into the leather upholstery of the seat as the momentum of the car jolted her.

They sped past Ed's rental car as bullets began flying through the air. Their assailants must have been hiding in the woods because no one was visible. But the danger was all too real.

Ed drove full speed until they reached the busy metro area. “I don't think anyone followed us.”

Bailey said nothing, only stared at the street, partly terrified, partly in shock.

“You okay?” he asked, squeezing her knee.

She nodded, trying to pry her fingers from the seat and willing her breathing to return to normal. “Yeah, I'm fine. I think.”

“It appears we lost them.”

“Who are they?” Bailey asked, hardly hearing anything above the pounding in her ears.

“Someone who wants that information.”

“If they wanted it so badly, wouldn't they have kept James alive so they could find it?” Bailey's voice sounded squeaky and high, even to her own ears.

“My guess is that once these guys realize James knew what those files said, his name went on a hit list.”

Bailey's throat went dry enough that she rubbed the tight muscles at her neck, willing herself to gulp in deep breaths. “So, you think anyone who knows what's in those files will ultimately die?”

Ed stared at the road ahead, dodging in and out of traffic. “That's my guess. Someone doesn't want anyone to know what's in those files. They're trying to stop the information from being spread.”

“What's so important?”

“Matters of national security. Guilty parties. Ruined reputations of countries. Uncovering the names of spies. It could be any number of things.”

“None of that is comforting.” Once she found the information, these guys were going to kill her, she realized. There was no happy ending in all of this for her, no matter what she did. “James said something about a hostage. What was he talking about?”

“I have no idea. Not yet.” Ed glanced over at her. “Why do you look like you're going to pass out?”

She fanned her face for a moment. “I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed.”

He reached across the seat and grabbed her hand. “I'll watch out for you, Bailey.”

His touch was surprisingly comforting and brought her a measure of peace she hadn't expected. She squeezed his hand in appreciation. “Thank you. I'm not sure that's going to be possible, though.”

“What's going on, Bailey? Is there anything you need to tell me?”

She wanted to spill everything. After all, what were the chances that man would overhear any of the conversation here?

But she'd seen what those men could do. They would kill her sister without thinking twice about it. The man's threat hadn't been empty.

So, as much as she'd like to pour everything out to Ed right here, she couldn't. She had to figure a way out of this mess on her own.

“I'm just trying to sort everything out,” she whispered.

Ed retracted his hand, and she instantly missed the warmth. Instead, he put both hands on the steering wheel as he maneuvered the vehicle through traffic.

“I'm trained to tell when a person's lying, Bailey,” he muttered.

His words caused the blood to drain from her face. “I'm not trained, but I can also tell when someone's not telling the truth. Maybe you should point that finger back at yourself.” She hated to sound harsh, but she wasn't the only one hiding things. He was no DC lawyer. Or, if he was, there was more to the story.

Silence stretched between them for the rest of the ride.

Bailey tried to tell herself that she didn't care, but she knew that deep down inside, she did. Against all the odds, she was beginning to care about Ed Carter, the last person she wanted to have feelings for.

* * *

“This isn't the way back to the boat ramp,” Bailey muttered.

She was as observant as always. Of course, he already knew the woman was smart. She was putting things together a little too easily. “There's one more person I'd like to talk to, Bailey. Plus, it's getting late. I don't want to be on the water at night.”

“Don't I get a say in this? What does that mean for tonight?”

“We'll find a hotel. I think it would be for the best, especially after what happened earlier.”

He could tell by the tight line of her lips that she was uncomfortable, suspicious and scared.

He wanted to grab her hand again, but knew it was a bad idea on more than one level. “Bailey, you're just going to have to trust me. I know it's not easy. But, believe me, I wouldn't do anything to hurt you.”

She looked toward him, her cheeks flushing. “I hope you're right.”

Something about being around her caused a surge of protectiveness to rise in him. He knew he'd do whatever it took to keep her safe. He also knew he was entering dangerous territory. It had been a long time since he'd felt anything for a woman. Physical danger, plus having his heart involved, was never a good mix.

He reminded himself to keep his distance.

“Who's this other person we're going to talk to?” Bailey asked. Her voice sounded strained.

“An old friend. He's very wise. Should have some good insight for us.”

“Can you trust him?”

“I think so.”

“You don't sound so sure.” She scrutinized him.

“Nothing's ever sure in my world, Bailey. Except God.”

“God's a great place to start. The only place really.”

Ed nodded. “That's the truth.”

It was so refreshing to be with someone who understood and shared his beliefs. He was finding it less common, and he was more often an outsider when it came to his spiritual beliefs. It felt good to be around someone who was like-minded.

The rest of the ride was silent. He couldn't help but wonder about what James had said. He'd mentioned a hostage. Could he have been talking about the Reginald Peterson ordeal? Reginald was an American contractor who'd been taken hostage by the Kurdistan government. People had suspicions that Sanderson was involved. There was obviously more to this story.

Finally, they pulled up to an apartment complex in Alexandria. The area was clean, neat and expensive.

Skipping the elevator, they took the stairs to the third floor. Ed knocked on the door, his gaze constantly searching the surrounding area. A man with spiked light brown hair and a thin, lean build answered. He didn't smile, didn't reach out for a warm handshake, didn't offer any formalities.

“This is my old friend Micah Stephens,” Ed said, turning toward Bailey.

Micah briefly nodded before scanning behind them. “Were you followed?”

Ed shook his head. “No, we weren't.”

“Come on inside. I wondered when you'd show up. I just got in from out of town. Your timing is good.”

Ed put his hand on Bailey's back and ushered her inside first. He didn't like where all of this was going. Not for a moment.

Now Bailey was in the crosshairs, as well.

Once the door was securely locked, Ed turned toward Bailey. “Would you mind if I talked to Micah alone?”

Fire lit in her eyes. “As a matter of fact, I would. I'm just as much in danger as anyone else. I think I deserve to know what's going on.”

Micah and Ed exchanged a glance. Finally, Ed nodded, praying that his gut was right. “You can trust her.”

“Clearance?”

Ed shook his head. “But she's got a lot at stake in this.”

Micah nodded. “Okay, then. Sit down. We've got a lot to talk about.”

* * *

Bailey felt anticipation building inside her. Whatever was going on, it was big. She prayed she was prepared to comprehend what she was about to hear.

“I've been doing some digging, just like you asked me to. I think this all goes back to the Reginald Peterson case.”

“The contractor who was taken hostage a few months ago?” Bailey asked. It had been all over the news. Anyone who turned on the TV would have heard about the man.

He'd been hired by the government to do some work in the Middle East. But terrorists had grabbed him and demanded a hefty ransom. The man still hadn't been returned last she'd heard, but at least he was alive. She'd seen a video taken of him where he possessed a swollen eye, a bloody lip and an invisible yet unbearable weight on his shoulders.

“Yes, that Reginald Peterson,” Micah responded. “But he wasn't just a government contractor. He was CIA.”

“The CIA never owned up to it that he was one of their own, though,” Ed filled in.

“Why would they do that?” Bailey asked.

Ed and Micah exchanged another glance.

“There was a rumor that Reginald had uncovered some evidence that incriminated the CIA,” Ed answered. “He discovered something and sent it to his handler. He was abducted a few days later and that's when the CIA claimed they didn't know him.

“You have to understand that it's not surprising. I mean, if the interests of a nation are at stake, the CIA is going to do whatever they have to do to cover themselves. We believe that the information Reginald uncovered was one of the reasons he was abducted. The terrorists wanted that intelligence.”

“Did he risk his life for the US, only to have the US turn their back on him?” Bailey asked.

“We don't know yet, nor do we know exactly what that information is he obtained,” Ed said. “We believe that information was brushed under the rug by the CIA, but that Reginald's handler passed the information on to Elmer Martin. He then gave it to my father. Now they're all dead.”

“So, if we get the information...?” Bailey could fill in the blanks a little too easily. She didn't like the answers she formulated. They all went back to the same conclusion: death.

“Whatever the communication is, it's raised the stakes for some high-level people within the CIA,” Micah finished.

“You don't know what this intelligence is?” Bailey asked.

“We suspect it has to do with some kind of scandal or cover-up, possibly within the CIA,” Micah said. “We also suspect that Carl Sanderson might be involved.”

“Isn't he a terrorist?” Bailey tried to recall what she'd heard about him. Apparently, he had a whole army of followers. He was British, but had lived in Africa and the Middle East. The only other thing Bailey could remember was that he hated America. Apparently, he blamed the country for the death of his brother, who'd been a British double agent.

“Not only would it look bad for certain members of the CIA, but if the wrong people got their hands on that information, they could use it to put agents into compromising positions,” Ed explained. “They could use it as leverage to get other information.”