Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (33 page)

BOOK: Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence
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“That would be...not good.” Bailey knew how lame her words sounded.

“You have to understand that given the scope of what the CIA does, something like this could mean the safety of our country,” Micah added. “It's more than about people's reputations or smearing the image of the CIA. This is about keeping our country out of harm's way.”

“And now we're involved somehow,” Bailey said, her head still spinning.

“Someone's after this information. Could even be the CIA,” Ed said.

“If the CIA sent people after us, that means someone had to own up to what happened, right?” Bailey tried to put it all together.

“Not necessarily,” Ed said. “They could have concocted a story painting us as the bad guys. There are a lot of ways to spin the mission of an operation. They could have claimed that we stole information. That we're the threats to national security.”

“Why would you kill your own father, though?” Bailey asked. “That's essentially what they'd have to claim in order to put the blame on us.”

“There are holes we haven't filled in yet,” Micah said. “I don't have all the answers.”

“Do you know if there have been any threats made? Has anyone owned up to having the information? Any terrorist groups?” Ed asked.

“All indications are that this is an inside job.”

Bailey ran a hand through her hair. “This is great. We have CIA assassins chasing us. I guess they were the ones at the house earlier? The ones who didn't kill us when they had the chance?”

“The bottom line is that someone wants this information. They want to stop the information flow. If we're dead, they still won't know where the information is, but they'll just try other means to find it.”

Bailey remembered her sister, the threat on her family's lives. Yes, whoever was behind this was ruthless and heartless. They would do whatever it took to get their hands on the information.

* * *

They left an hour later. Micah had offered to let them stay at his place, but Ed knew it would put his friend at too much risk. They needed to put distance between themselves and everyone else—at least, for the moment. Micah was smart; he knew how to defend himself. He'd been an army ranger at one time—one of the best. Then he'd joined the CIA.

Ed found a hotel—one with outside doors. He booked two rooms side by side and paid with cash. He wasn't on the run; he wouldn't stay in hiding forever. But he had to take every precaution possible.

“Nice place,” Bailey muttered, looking up at the outdated sign as Ed unlocked the door.

“They didn't ask for credit-card information, so it should work for the time being.”

He ushered Bailey inside her room and locked the doors behind them. “Stay here,” he ordered.

He checked every available spot in the room, just to make sure everything was safe. Finally, he let himself relax a moment. The hotel wasn't the fanciest, but it was the best option. “Everything looks clear. I'm just taking every precaution possible to make sure you're safe.”

Bailey still stood against the wall, nearly pressed against it. “I'm scared, Ed.”

He stepped closer to her and hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I know. You should be. Fear is healthy. It keeps you sharp and alert. That said, it's not fun, and I'm sorry about that.”

“Why do you seem so calm?” Her wide eyes implored him, made him want to pour out everything.

“Experience.”

“As a lawyer.” She smiled slightly.

“Yeah, as a lawyer.” Ed had no doubt that Bailey had put the facts together and knew there was quite a bit more to his job than that, especially given all the talk about the CIA.

She rubbed her arms and looked around. He had to admit that the room was cold; the heat needed to be kicked up another notch. He strode across the room to adjust the settings.

“Do you think they'll find us here?” she asked.

He cranked the heat up. “We're going to be ready for them if they do.”

Against his better instinct, he pulled her toward him. Instantly, the smell of daisies and rain showers filled his senses. He liked the way she seemed to fold into him, a sweet-smelling bundle of warmth.

At once, he had visions of the future, hopes of forever. Forever was a prospect he hadn't considered in a long time—long enough that the thought shook him to the core.

He stepped back, a little too quickly. The action rocked Bailey, and she struggled to find her balance. As he grabbed her, trying to help her right herself, another surge of electricity shot through him.

This wasn't good. It wasn't good at all.

He needed to do some reconnaissance on behalf of his heart.

He squeezed her arms before backing up and pointing to the door behind him. “I should be going. If you need anything, let me know.”

Bailey nodded and rubbed her neck. “I'll do that.”

“And lock these doors behind me.”

He took a deep breath and stepped outside. There had been a lot of things he hadn't expected, starting with his father's death. But he definitely hadn't been prepared for his heart to feel this invested.

* * *

Bailey hardly slept all night. It'd been a common theme for her the past few nights. There was the fact that a crazy gunman was after them. And as if that wasn't enough, there was also the possibility of a CIA assassin, double agents, international hostages and plots to take over the world.

Add to that the fact that Ed's touch had ignited something in her that she hadn't felt in a long time. She was so used to being on her own, of taking care of herself, of as if someone else had her back. She hadn't realized how much her heart yearned for that protection.

She lay in bed for most of the night with her covers pulled up to her neck, listening for signs of anything suspicious. She heard nothing, except maybe a pizza delivery guy a few doors down.

When she'd finally pulled herself out of bed in the morning, she'd frowned when she looked in the mirror and saw the dark circles under her eyes. This whole situation was beginning to wear on her. She took a shower and used the complimentary toothbrush and toothpaste to freshen up.

The fact that nothing had happened both put her at ease and more on edge. She'd fully expected some kind of attack. What did this mean?

She knocked on the door between her room and Ed's, crossing her arms as she waited for him to answer. Her heart skipped a beat when he pulled the door open. Based on the way his pupils widened, he was feeling the same thing she was.

They were both in trouble, in more ways than one.

“You okay?” he asked. His gaze soaked her in.

She nodded, noting how his hair glistened as if he'd just gotten out of the shower. “Yeah, I'm fine.”

He grabbed his keys and motioned toward the outside door. “We should probably hit the road, then.”

He put a hand on her back and led her through the room and to the door. He stepped outside first, glanced around and then led her to the car. They climbed inside. Bailey held her breath as he cranked the engine.

When the car purred to life, she nearly laughed out loud. What had she expected? An explosion? Maybe she'd watched too many movies.

With that worry over, the same raw feeling returned to her throat. She knew what had caused the achiness—her closeness to Ed. She wished her reaction to the man wasn't this strong. She wished it made more sense. She wished circumstances were different; that she was different.

She had to stay focused. She had to find that information.

And then what?

Turn it over to potential terrorists? Or people who were putting the security of the United States on the line?

Great. She could save her own family, but fail the entire country if she did.

She had some decisions to make. Some really, really hard decisions.

She rubbed her temples, wishing she could rewind time.

“What are you thinking about?”

Ed's voice pulled her from her burdensome thoughts. If only she could share what she was thinking about. “Just about how crazy all of this is.”

“You've been a real trouper, you know. The smartest choice for you right now would be to pack your things and get out of here.”

“You don't think they'd follow me? That they might suspect I somehow know something?”

He grimaced. “They might.”

“I'm in this too deep, Ed. Whether I want to be in it or not, I'm involved. It sounds like the people behind this are desperate. It's like something from a movie.”

“I know how they think, Bailey. I'll look out for you.”

They reached the docks, finally. Ed's boat floated right where they'd left it, and there wasn't a sign of anyone else there at the moment.

The day was a little warmer than the past several had been. But the breeze still felt cool, and as they raced across the water, it would feel even colder.

They climbed onto the boat and, a few minutes later, were cruising toward Smuggler's Cove. Bailey stood beside Ed by the boat's console. The guard blocked the wind and the sun warmed her cheeks. Maybe this would be a decent ride. Maybe, just for a minute, she could forget her troubles.

Just then, an explosion rocked the entire boat.

Before Bailey realized what was happening, water surrounded her.

SEVENTEEN

E
d's head jetted from the water and he gulped in a deep breath. Debris from the boat floated around him and the smell of gas remained heavy on the water.

Where was Bailey?

He twisted around, searching for a sign of her. “Bailey!”

Nothing.

He swam closer to the wreckage, desperately looking for proof of life. Finally, he saw something pink. Her shirt?

He propelled himself across the water. The mop of long hair confirmed it was Bailey.

Moving quickly, he flipped her over. Her motionless, pale face caused panic to jostle through him. “Bailey, Bailey! You've got to stay with me.”

She remained unmoving.

He patted her cheek, desperation surging through him. “Bailey!”

She still wasn't responding. Ed grabbed the largest piece of debris he could find—part of the bottom of the boat—and dragged Bailey on top of it. He didn't have much time. He had to move quickly.

Dear God, please help her!

He turned her on her side and pounded her back, praying the water would leave her lungs, that breath would fill her.

Nothing.

He kept trying.

Finally, she sputtered. Coughed. Tried to sit up.

He grabbed her arm to prevent her from rolling back into the water. She was okay. Praise God, she was okay!

The cut on her forehead would heal, but there were no other visible wounds. He prayed that was the extent of her injuries.

As she slid from the wreckage, his arm went around her waist, trying to hold her up. “You okay?”

“I...” She glanced around. “I thought I was dead.”

He had, too. For a moment, at least. “You're going to be fine.”

Now that she was awake and breathing, a new challenge rushed to his mind. How were they going to get out of the water? Out of the bay? The frigid water would give them hypothermia if they stayed here too long.

Bailey's teeth chattered. The cold was already getting to her, and their options weren't many. Swim for shore or stay here and wait for help. The problem was that no one would be looking for them. His only hope was in the realization that the route they'd traveled was a popular boat path for people going to and from Smuggler's Cove.

“Ed?” Bailey whispered, her skin too pallid for his comfort.

“Yes?”

“I...I want to say thank-you.” Her teeth chattered.

“Oh, no. You're not giving me a goodbye speech. We're going to make it out of here.” He continued to tread water, his muscles straining from the constant motion.

“I can't feel my hands anymore, Ed.”

His worry grew.

Lord, please help.

He grabbed another piece of the boat and instructed Bailey to hang on to it. Keeping one arm around her so she wouldn't slide off, he began swimming toward the island. Making it there was a long shot. They were probably ten miles away, at least. But he had to try. He had to do something.

There had to have been a detonator on that boat. Someone must have planted it last night. They'd waited until Ed and Bailey came back to the boat and, when they were sure the watercraft was in the middle of the bay, they'd set it off.

At first, it seemed as if the people behind these acts wanted to keep them alive. But maybe now they were getting desperate. Whoever these guys were, they were realizing that Ed and Bailey were putting the pieces together.

He had to keep moving. If Bailey died, he would be to blame. He'd never forgive himself.

He glanced over at her. Her lips were turning blue. Her face was still pale.

The water was too cold. She was losing blood through the cut on her forehead. The exertion was too much.

He paused as a noise caught his ear.

He swerved his head around, looking for the source of the hum.

“It's a boat!” he said.

“Good guys or bad guys?” Bailey asked lethargically.

Ed kept his gaze on the watercraft. Finally, a symbol on the side registered with him. “Good guys. It's the coast guard.”

* * *

Instead of going to Smuggler's Cove, the coast guard had taken them to the mainland, to a hospital outside of Richmond. Bailey kept insisting she was fine, but no one seemed to believe her.

The doctor decided to keep her and Ed overnight for observation. She had a cut on her forehead, which had caused her to lose blood. That, mixed with the hypothermia, were their reasons for concern.

Against her will, she'd drifted to sleep. But during her waking hours, all she could think about was the men who were after them. What if they found her here at the hospital? What if they tried to finish what they started?

She couldn't fight the effects of the pain medicine and remain lucid enough to put up a fight.

Three hours after they were admitted, someone rapped at the door. She looked over and saw Ed standing there. His hair looked messy, he needed to shave, and his gaze looked tired. But was she ever glad to see him. Especially the lazy smile that stretched across his face when he spotted her.

“Hey, there,” she called, her voice strained and weak.

He stepped up to her bed. “I was afraid you'd be sleeping.”

“I keep drifting off, but then I wake up with nightmares.”

His smile slipped. “How are you feeling?”

“My head throbs and my whole body feels like it's been wrung out by a tornado. But besides that, I'm just happy to be alive.”

“I know the feeling.”

Her throat got that all-too-familiar aching feeling. “Thank you, by the way,” she whispered. “For saving my life.”

“It was nothing.”

“It was everything to me.”

He looked down, something tortured in his gaze for a minute. “I just wish you weren't wrapped up in all of this. What happened out there on the water made this all too real, in more ways than one.”

“Whether we like it or not, at this point, we're in this together. I'm just glad that was the case when that bomb went off in the boat. If you hadn't been there, I wouldn't be here right now.”

Using his palm, he wiped her hair back from her forehead. “You gave me a good scare.”

His touch sent ripples ricocheting through her. Her blood surged, warming her skin, making her long for more of his touch.

She cleared her throat, trying to get control of her reactions. She needed safe territory, somewhere where the look in Ed's eyes wouldn't make her heart betray her. Since that wasn't an option, she changed the subject. “So, do the police have any clue what happened? Are they investigating?”

“I told them what happened. I just didn't share any of the background. It doesn't matter, though. Not really. They're not going to catch these guys. They're too good.”

“If they're not going to catch them, then how are we supposed to get out of this alive?”

He squeezed her hand. “Never give up. We've got to keep pressing ahead. God often steps in at our lowest moments and shows us another way. For example, if that coast guard boat hadn't come by when it did, neither of us may have made it.”

Her first real smile came easily and quickly. “You're right.”

“Mr. Carter,” a nurse said, sticking her head into the room. “I thought I told you that you needed to stay in your room with your IV.”

“I feel fine.” He straightened, rubbing his arm where it seemed his IV had been.

“You really need to rest.” The gray-haired nurse put her hands on her ample hips.

He pointed to the chair beside Bailey. “I'll rest in here.”

“But—”

He raised a hand as if to say
Hold on
. “I promise. I'll be fine.”

The nurse looked at Bailey, agitation clearly written across her face. “Do you want me to get rid of him for you?”

She smiled, despite her cracked lips and depleted energy. “No, he can stay. But thank you.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow and cast one more glance at Ed before finally nodding and stepping out of the room.

Ed turned back to Bailey and patted her hand. “I'm here. You can rest now. I'll keep an eye out.”

Surprisingly, Bailey found waves of assurance in those words.

* * *

The next morning, John met them at the hospital with some clean clothes and two prepaid cell phones that Ed had requested he pick up. Since they'd missed church, Ed and Bailey had read some Scripture together and lifted up a prayer. It felt good to have someone willing to worship with him, Ed mused.

After they'd changed and were discharged, John drove them from the hospital to his boat. Ed was thankful that the man had been willing and available. He felt better knowing that he was former coast guard.

Before climbing into the boat, Ed checked out every inch of it. He didn't see anything suspicious. As they took off across the water, Bailey clutched Ed's arm. Based on her tight grip, she was reliving yesterday. He put his arm around her waist and squeezed, wishing he could somehow ease her thoughts.

He appreciated the fact that John didn't ask too many questions. The former Coastie seemed to sense that the situation was tense, and he respected the unspoken boundaries—at least for the time being.

The day was warm, which helped melt some of his tension. These few stolen moments when Ed was able to forget the danger they were in seemed to refresh him.

He breathed easier when they glided up to the pier in Smuggler's Cove and anchored there. Ed helped Bailey out, hating the bruises on her face and the thick bandage across her forehead. But it could have been worse. Much worse.

Samantha came running down the pier and gave Bailey a hug. “Are you okay? I was so worried.”

Bailey nodded, holding on to her friend's arm as they started toward the beach. “I'm fine.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

He saw Bailey about to shake her head, and he stepped forward. “There is something. Could Bailey stay here, in one of the cabins?”

“Ed—” Bailey protested.

“I'm not sure how safe the house is,” Ed whispered.

“But—” she began.

He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I'd feel better if you were away from the place for a while.”

Bailey narrowed her eyes, obviously feeling a little better if some of her fire was returning. “Can I speak with you a moment?”

With a hand at her elbow, he walked with her across the sand. He could only imagine what this conversation would hold.

They stopped, and she crossed her arms. “You really think I'm going to be any safer here?”

“Yes, I do.” He had no doubt.

“What makes you think these guys aren't going to find me here? And you won't be around to bail me out next time.”

“I just don't want to see you hurt again.” He had to make her understand that.

“Staying here won't insure that.”

He stared at her, trying to make the best decision, trying to give her the respect she deserved. “You're a big girl. It's your choice.”

Her face seemed to relax before she jutted her chin out with stubborn determination. “Then I choose to stay at the house.”

He hesitated but then nodded. “Okay. If that's what you want.”

They walked back toward John and Samantha, what almost felt like a physical weight pressing down on Ed.

Bailey spoke first. “I can't put you guys in the line of fire.”

“You know we're there for you if you need us,” John said. “We've been in tough spots before. We know what it's like.”

“You can say that again,” Samantha added.

“I appreciate it, but I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to any of you.”

Ed's hand went to her back. He was doing that a lot lately. Something about being able to touch her made him feel connected, as if he was close enough to protect her. “She's right. It's better if we keep our distance.”

“Do you want to tell us what's going on?” John asked, squinting against the midmorning sun.

“It's better if you don't know. Believe me, I'd tell you if I could.” Ed knew they couldn't get anyone else involved. The less people who knew, the better it would be for everyone.

“You know where to find us,” Samantha insisted.

His back muscles tightened as he nodded his thanks and waved goodbye. He was ready to head home. Though the way things were, he wasn't sure what else—or who else—to expect when he arrived.

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