Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection Detail\Hidden Agenda\Broken Silence (36 page)

TWENTY-TWO

E
d paused at the staircase as voices drifted downward.

“This is the only thing I could find.” Bailey. That was Bailey's voice, he realized.

“I don't see how this helps,” someone else said. Another woman.

“I don't see how, either, but I've looked everywhere,” Bailey said.

What? Bailey was secretly looking for the information on her own? Why would she do that...unless she was working for someone? Someone who wasn't on his side.

The pain of betrayal sliced through him again. When would he learn he couldn't trust people? Especially women.

The betrayal turned into a surge of anger.

He had to put an end to whatever secret meeting was going on up there.

“We were counting on you. You've disappointed me,” a female voice sounded.

He froze in the stairway, just out of sight. Why did that voice sound familiar? Realization dawned on him. He knew that voice. He knew that voice well.

So well that the sound of that person made his blood turn cold.

Claire.

His ex-fiancée.

The one who was working for a terrorist organization.

She'd been in on all of this the whole time? But why? Unless she wanted the information Reginald had obtained. In the wrong hands, the wrong people could use it to bend diplomatic decisions. They could hold it as leverage over decision makers here in America.

“I'll take those papers,” Claire said.

“Why?” Bailey said. “There's nothing there. You heard what's here. It's nothing.”

“I'll be the judge of that.”

“I just need more time,” Bailey pleaded.

“We've given you plenty of time. We gave you one simple task and you failed.”

“Please, there's got to be another way.” Bailey's voice almost sounded laced with panic.

Had she sold out to the other side, and now she wanted to get back in their good graces? Maybe her working here wasn't a coincidence after all. Maybe she was a manipulator, just like nearly everyone else in his life had been.

He took a step back and contemplated his next move. He'd have to plan carefully, with no room for mistakes.

* * *

Bailey stared at the two people in front of her, still wondering how in the world she was going to get herself out of this situation.

“Take her down,” Sanderson muttered, nodding toward Bailey.

“No!” Bailey yelled as the woman raised her gun.

Suddenly, someone flew into the room. Sanderson crashed onto the floor, but not before a bullet flew through the air. Glass shattered.

Ed. That was Ed.

Before Bailey could think twice, she ran toward the woman. She aimed low and her shoulder hit the woman's midsection. The two tumbled onto the ground.

It may have been her dumbest move ever, because in one swift motion the woman had flipped over and had Bailey pinned against the floor. For a small woman, she was surprisingly strong and agile. She kept her elbow at Bailey's throat and sneered. “Not smart.”

Bailey tried to suck in a breath but couldn't. The woman blocked her airway. Panic began to pool in her.

“Put down the gun, Ed, or I'll kill her,” the woman growled. “You know I will.”

Beyond the woman, Ed's face came into view. He held a gun, aimed at the woman. Slowly, he lowered the weapon to the floor. “Don't hurt her, Claire.”

Claire...wasn't Claire the name of the woman who'd broken Ed's heart? Bailey felt fairly certain that was the case. So, Claire was a spy?

“Smart man,” Claire murmured.

“Not as smart as I should have been.” Ed turned toward Sanderson and scowled. “You're involved in this, too? I should have recognized you, Sanderson. I should have figured that when you went off the grid, you were planning something big.”

“It's amazing what plastic surgery and a wig can do.” Sanderson smirked. “I've wanted to kill you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I couldn't, though. Not until I got what I needed.”

“You two were the couple at the bed-and-breakfast,” Ed said.

Sanderson shrugged. “We figured it was only a matter of time until you figured it out.”

“Why'd you kill the dockworker?” Ed continued, trying to buy time.

“He was actually CIA,” Claire added. “He was keeping an eye on you, but he was onto us. He had to go.”

“This information must be pretty important for you guys to go through all of this trouble.” Ed stared back and forth from Sanderson to Claire to Bailey.

“You could say that,” Sanderson grumbled.

“I think it's going to be a little too easy to have some fun with your little girlfriend here,” Claire muttered, her voice taking on an all-too-delighted tone.

“You were in cahoots with them the whole time, Bailey?” Ed said, unable to forget her involvement in all of this. “Until they betrayed you. Never trust a spy.”

Bailey sucked in a deep breath, realizing for the first time how this might look. “It's not like that.”

“I heard your conversation earlier. You were trying to help them.”

“It's a long story, Ed. It's not what you think. Please, you've got to believe me.” Her voice quivered with desperation.

“It's okay, Bailey. I'm used to being stabbed in the back.”

“Country always comes first, Ed,” Claire crooned. “I'm sorry you had to learn that the hard way.”

“You know, in the year since we broke up, I haven't regretted what happened. No, I've just felt sorry for you. That's no way to live.”

She sneered and tightened her hold around Bailey's neck.

“Why'd you have my father killed?” Ed asked.

“He knew information he didn't need to know. It was only after he died we discovered that he had made copies of some very sensitive documents and had hidden them somewhere. And we needed to find it. There are names there. Specific names.”

“Bailey doesn't have them,” Ed said.

“Ed, they threatened my sister,” Bailey tried to explain. If they didn't work together, they were both going to die. She had to get through to him—fast. “I had no choice. Please, Ed. Keeping that from you was killing me.”

His gaze flickered toward her. She saw the questions in his eyes. But she also saw that desire for trust. He had to believe her.

“Killing someone isn't going to accomplish anything right now,” Bailey continued. “The CIA will be all over it if we die.”

“Not if the right person at the CIA has a say in this,” Sanderson said. “Have you ever heard of the term
cover-up
? Some people will do anything to protect their own hides.”

Lightning flashed outside and the first smattering of rain hit the glass surrounding them.

“Only unethical people like yourself,” Ed muttered.

“Ethics will get you nowhere. You need manipulation, leverage, a little bit of backstabbing. That's how you get places.” Claire gave up on choking Bailey and pushed her to the side. “Now, we'll take those letters.”

“Don't give them to her, Bailey,” Ed warned.

“There's nothing there, Ed,” Bailey explained. “They're just kind notes your father wrote to us before he passed.”

“My dad didn't write letters like that, Bailey. Claire knows that.”

“You mean, we were looking for these letters the whole time? But there was nothing there. I promise.” Bailey tried to put the pieces together.

“Sometimes there's more than the eye can see,” Ed said.

“That's enough.” Sanderson's voice sliced through the air. “Kill her. Kill them both.”

Sanderson raised his gun toward Bailey. Before he could shoot, Ed tackled him.

Glass shattered again. Ed and Sanderson flew out the windows and onto the steep roof.

They rolled toward the edge.

Bailey gasped as she glimpsed the men struggling.

But she didn't have too much time to watch.

Because Claire lunged toward her, propelling her into the bench. It crashed behind her, and pain shot through her body.

* * *

Ed grabbed the molding near the roof before going over the edge. All of his weight pulled downward, trying to bring all of him with it. As his gun slid down, he reached to grab it but missed. It plummeted to the ground below.

He made the mistake of looking down.

Falling from here could very well mean his death.

He looked up, saw Sanderson pull himself back onto the roof. He stalked over to Ed, glaring down at him with menace in his eyes. He'd retrieved his gun and pointed it at Ed now.

Sanderson's foot crept closer to Ed's fingers. He had to think fast or he'd end up dead, the information would end up in the wrong hands and who knew what would happen with Bailey.

Was she telling the truth? Had they blackmailed her into all of this?

Maybe he hadn't been wrong about her. Maybe she was just as much a victim in all of this as his father had been.

Sanderson's feet crushed his fingers. Ed let out a moan.

“Don't do this, Sanderson!” Ed yelled. The wind tried to carry his voice off.

Another storm was coming, though not as big as the previous one. But if Sanderson didn't kill him out here on the roof, the storm just might. Lightning flashed around him, just looking for the highest point of impact. Ed hoped that wouldn't be this roof.

His fingers began to slip under the strain of Sanderson's weight.

All of a sudden, Sanderson fell onto the roof.

Ed looked up and saw Bailey standing there, part of the bench in her hands. Her hair whipped around her in the wind as she looked down at Ed for a moment.

Ed held his breath. This was the moment. The moment when it would be confirmed what side Bailey was on. In his heart, he thought he knew the answer. But he'd been fooled before...

Suddenly, Bailey was kneeling before him, reaching for his hand. “Let me help you!”

“You're not going to be able to pull me up, Bailey.” If anything, he'd end up pulling her down and to her death, as well. He couldn't risk that.

Claire appeared behind Bailey, ready to strike.

“Bailey, watch out!” Ed yelled.

Bailey ducked as the woman swung at her.

Instead, Claire dived toward Bailey and both of them toppled back inside the widow's walk. Moving quickly, Ed pulled himself up. He started toward Bailey when Sanderson suddenly rose. The vengeance in his eyes grew as he lunged toward Ed.

Ed braced himself, knowing that one wrong move could immobilize him. He needed his gun, but that was no longer an option. That left him to defend himself with only the weapons God had given him.

His strength, his training, but mostly his mind.

He heard Bailey cry out inside and jerked his head in her direction. Sanderson took that opportunity to sock him in the jaw.

Ed caught himself before falling to the ground. Sanderson already had the advantage, though. The man was ready to pounce.

Ed's feet began slipping downward as rain pelted the already steep roof.

He eyed Sanderson. Before the man could make a move, Ed dived for the widow's walk. He had to protect Bailey, had to make sure she was okay.

He stood just in time to block Claire's fist before it impacted with Bailey. Claire swung around, catching Ed in a kick.

“Stop right there!” Sanderson said.

Everyone froze and looked up. Sanderson stood there with a gun.

“It's time to finish this,” Sanderson said, stepping closer.

His gun was aimed right at Ed.

Ed's pulse spiked. He had to think of a way to get out of this.

He pushed Bailey behind him, knowing that at any minute Sanderson could pull the trigger.

Just then, a gunshot rang out.

Ed froze, waiting to feel pain. Waiting to see blood. Waiting for the fallout.

* * *

Bailey watched in horror as Sanderson sank to the ground.

Another gunshot rang out, and Claire moaned before falling against the wall, an unreadable look in her eyes.

A figure stood behind them.

“Henry Wilkins? What are you doing here?” Ed muttered.

Henry lowered the gun in his hands, suddenly not looking as frail as he usually did. “I was taking a walk after my wife went to sleep, you know, just to clear my head. As I was coming past the property, I heard glass shatter and saw the fight up here on the roof. I was coming to help, when I saw Ed's gun fall. So I grabbed it and rushed up. You two okay?”

Bailey nodded, still in shock. “I think...I think so.”

Ed grabbed Sanderson's gun and kept it raised toward Claire. Then he turned to Henry. “What...?”

“I was your dad's right-hand man. Certainly you didn't think he kept me on staff because of my brute strength and eye for landscaping?”

Bailey cracked the first hint of a smile she'd had all night. “You're CIA?”

He nodded. “Carter and I went way back. I was only in the agency a few years, but your father asked me to come work for him and be a second set of eyes. I've tried to keep an eye on the two of you since you've been here, as well. Tonight, that was a good thing.”

“Why didn't my dad tell me this?” Ed asked.

“He didn't want you to worry. But he needed someone to watch his back down here. He knew I'd moved here, and then he found this house. It just seemed like a natural fit.”

Steps sounded on the stairs. A moment later, Sheriff Davis stepped into the widow's walk. His gaze went to the two people on the floor. Both were injured, but Bailey guessed they'd survived. Henry had shot them in the shoulder.

“What's going on up here?” the sheriff demanded.

“It's a long story,” Ed said. “But you're going to want to make some phone calls—after you cuff these guys.”

TWENTY-THREE

S
everal hours later, just as dawn was breaking, the police, FBI, CIA and who knew how many other agencies Bailey couldn't identify cleared the house. Sanderson and Claire were both taken into custody and escorted to the hospital. They were expected to survive their injuries, which was a good thing because there was a lot of information the government needed to get from them.

Henry had been taken in for questioning since he was the one who'd pulled the trigger. He was also the one who'd called the sheriff to come out. Meanwhile, Doc Jennings was in town and had agreed to stay with Henry's wife until he returned.

Finally, everything was quiet at the house. Bailey turned toward Ed as they stood in the living room, a fire roaring and coffee in hand.

“I still don't understand what was in those letters that was so important,” Bailey began, needing to resolve this case before she thought about anything else. “And all the chemicals, the equipment, the photography lab. None of that makes sense.”

Micah had shown up, and he'd taken the letters with him. He wasn't the one who'd visited her sister. It must have been one of Sanderson's men.

“The letters contained microdots,” Ed told her, rubbing her arms.

“Microdots?”

Ed nodded. “They're so small they look like a period at the end of a sentence. Yet, when they're examined with the right equipment, there's actually a lot of valuable information located in that small little dot.”

“That sounds like something from a spy movie.”

“Well, my dad was in the spy business. Some things you see in Hollywood are actually true.”

“So your dad was making the microdots using the equipment up in the hayloft?”

Ed nodded. “You've got it. Those microdots had information on Reginald Peterson, the hostage. The proper people at the CIA will be investigated, as well. But the good news is that Sanderson and Claire will be going away and won't be able to hurt anyone else. If they'd gotten their hands on that information, they would have been able to hold it as leverage over high-ranking members of the CIA. It would have been trouble. Big trouble.”

“What do you think will happen with Reginald?”

“I think with this information we'll be able to negotiate his release. There are enough agencies involved right now that there's a lot of accountability. No one will be able to get away with anything.”

Bailey shifted to face him better. “Ed, I need to explain something to you.”

He shook his head. “You don't have to explain.”

“I want to. Please. A man—Sanderson, I now know—dragged me into a room that first night you were here. He told me if I didn't find the information that he would kill my sister and her family. I didn't want to risk her life.”

“You did the right thing.” He hooked a hair behind her ear and put down his coffee mug. “I think you were really brave.”

He took her mug from her hands and set it beside his. Then he turned back to her and cupped her face with his hands.

“I didn't feel brave. I was just trying to survive. And I felt awful the whole time. It's not my personality to hide things like this from people, especially from people I care about.”

“You care about me?” Ed asked.

She let out a soft laugh. “You can't tell?”

“That's good. Because I care about you, too.” He leaned closer.

Bailey's heart sped and her skin tingled.

His lips just brushed hers when the doorbell rang. They pulled back from each other and let out a nervous laugh.

“Who now?” Ed asked.

“I'm not sure I want to know.”

He sighed and, as he let go of her, he almost seemed reluctant to step away. Bailey stayed where she was, part of her conditioned to expect the worst.

No, everyone was behind bars now, she reminded herself. The danger was over and she could relax.

A familiar voice rang through the house and, a moment later, Doc Jennings stepped inside. He tipped his head toward her. “Bailey. Good to see you.”

“You, too, Doc. Is everything okay?”

The doctor nodded. “Henry's back and he's with his Florence now. I wanted to stop by and offer you a proposition.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Bailey, I'm sure you've heard this already, but I've been thinking about retiring for a while now. I want to move to Texas and be with my grandkids, but I can't leave the island here with no medical personnel. I wondered if you might be willing to fill my shoes.”

“I'm no doctor. I couldn't replace you,” Bailey insisted.

“No, but you're a nurse. You're a good nurse. You could oversee some of the ailments people around here deal with. Maybe you could even go back and become a physician's assistant or nurse practitioner. I think you'd do a wonderful job here on the island. It's obvious you love the residents, and they love you.”

Bailey glanced at Ed. “I'm flattered. I really am. But I'm going to need to think about it. There are other considerations, after all. Places to live, making enough money to live on.”

The doctor nodded. “Of course. Think about it. I'm sure we could work something out.”

He nodded toward Ed again and then stepped back. “I'm going to be going now. Let me know what you decide.”

When Ed closed the door, he stepped back over to Bailey, picking up right where they'd left off. “What do you think about that?” Ed asked.

“It's something to consider. But there are so many details to think about.”

“You could stay here,” Ed said, his eyes twinkling.

“At your father's house? Your house now, I suppose.”

“Maybe not right away. Maybe you stay at one of your friend Samantha's cabins for a while.”

“A while?”

He shrugged. “I've been thinking about a career change for a while now. Maybe I can make Smuggler's Cove my permanent residence.”

“And do what?”

“I'm not sure yet. But I'll figure it out.”

She crossed her arms. “Practice law?”

He shifted. “About that...”

“Yes?”

“I did go to law school, but I was recruited by the CIA to work for them. I just used the attorney job title as a cover.”

“Great. I'm starting to fall in love with a spy.”

Ed pulled her closer. “What was that?”

She bit her lip, wishing the words hadn't popped out. There was no taking them back now, though. “I'm falling in love. It's true.”

“I'm glad to hear that, Bailey, because, as crazy as this sounds, I'm falling in love with you, too. I can't imagine my future without you. I really, really want to see where this goes. You and me.”

A smile cracked her face. “I like that idea, too.”

Ed pulled her close, and his lips covered hers.