Operation Sheba (32 page)

I can’t
, Conrad thought. He turned his back on Stone. “See you at the office,” he called over his shoulder, “
boss
.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Julia stepped out of the shower to find a mug of steaming coffee waiting for her. She smiled, took a sip and got herself dressed.

She was so unbelievably tired—jet lag was hell—and yet so unbelievably happy.

Her heart had frozen solid when it looked like Susan had shot Conrad on the boat dock that day. But he wasn’t shot, just pulling some stupid SEAL maneuver and giving her a heart attack. Michael had recovered from his gun wound and was back at Langley already in his new position as Titus’s right hand man. She, Conrad, Smitty and Ace had been cleared of any wrongdoing. She’d even gone to Ben Raines and made peace with him. She and Titus had set up a deal with the Justice Department to clear Cari’s name in exchange for her testimony against Susan, and Julia had helped her fill out papers to become a legal citizen of the United States. Senator King had temporarily left his post until the conclusion of a special investigation into his dealings with Susan.

Susan.

Julia, with Smitty and Con’s help, had tracked her down and brought her back to face prosecution. It wasn’t as satisfying as Julia had hoped it would be, but she’d done the right thing, no matter what Con said.

And now she was due in forty minutes for a job interview with the FBI. Agent Buchanan had recruited her to work on his East Coast HRT, but his offer was not so different from Abigail’s analyst job. Titus had offered her Susan’s job and she would have jumped at it if it hadn’t meant seeing Michael every day. She couldn’t do that to him. Or herself.

Turning Buchanan down hadn’t been hard, and he had offered to feel out his boss about a different line of work for her. Fieldwork, hunting down felons. She was excited and she didn’t even know exactly what she was getting herself into, but that wasn’t going to stop her.

Grabbing her coffee, she left the bathroom and found Con at her kitchen table, reading the morning news, a plate of bagels on the counter, cut and ready for cream cheese. “Hi, Navy boy.”

He looked at her over the top of the paper, and Julia saw one of his eyes was red and swelled. She knew where he’d been and decided not to ask what had happened. He raised the eyebrow over his normal eye. “We just got in from Germany two hours ago and you’re dressed to go to work. What are you? Super Girl?”

“Wonder Woman. I have an interview with the FBI this morning.”

He whistled under his breath. “The FBI, huh? Sounds important.”

Julia smeared cream cheese on two bagel halves and pressed them together. “I’m ready to try something different.”

“Like what?”

Julia dug a sandwich bag out of her cupboard and stuck the bagel in it. “I’ve got the bug again. I think I want to get back in the field.”

Conrad lowered the paper and waggled both eyebrows at her. “Need a partner?”

“No.” Grabbing her purse off the chair, she pulled out the keys to her Audi and tossed them across the table at him. “But I do need a driver.”

Another killer day over in his still somewhat new position as Deputy Director of Central Intelligence, Michael Stone threw his briefcase on the kitchen counter and drew in a deep breath.

Pongo trotted into the kitchen with a brand new rawhide dog bone the size of a small child’s leg hanging out of his mouth and dropped it at Michael’s feet.

“Where’d you get that, boy?” he said, frowning at the bone. Pongo whimpered and wagged his stubby tail.

Michael continued to frown as he bent over to pet the dog. He had not given Pongo the bone and the only person Pongo had ever accepted treats from, besides him, was Julia.

With a lurch in his heart, Michael stood and, pulling his tie out of the neck of his shirt, took the stairs two at a time to his bedroom.

At the top of the stairs, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and he stopped short.

All was quiet. He could pick up no hint of anything out of place or anyone in his house.

But as he crossed into the bedroom, it hit him full force. Lavender. Not just an innocent trace of it. An unabashedly rich essence that made his knees weak.

Abigail.

Julia.

His gaze darted around the room and he called her name hesitantly. He hurried to the French doors and threw them open to see if she was sitting out on the deck.

Nothing.

She was not there. He started for the adjoining bathroom and that’s when his eyes saw the envelope on the bed, his name written in her tidy, elegant hand. Snatching the envelope up, he ripped it open. A picture fell out, landing on the bed, while he unfolded the note inside.

Dearest Michael,

Abigail Quinn is gone now but she was real. She was real because you reached out and helped her. Gave her reason to believe in fairytales again. Showed her there was a right way to live and there was something worth living for.

I, Julia Torrison, am forever in your debt. Even though I chose to leave your fairytale world, I’ll always carry the perfect love you gave me in my heart.

The picture is to remind you that Abby was real and so was her love for you. Forever, Julia

Michael reached down and grabbed the picture. It was one Liz Scofield had snapped of him and Abigail while they were on the Scofields’ sailboat. The two of them were laughing, Abby’s face turned up to his as sunlight glimmered on the water in the background. And even though he knew her carefree manner had changed seconds after the picture was snapped, the unadulterated love in her eyes at that moment was like a soothing balm on his wounded heart.

Walking out to the balcony, he stood still and let the moon bathe him in light. Propping the picture on the ledge, he closed his eyes and whispered, “
Julia”
, into the night.

Epilogue

Julia watched as Con made his way across the white sand, balancing two tall, gaudily outfitted tropical drinks in his hands. With his dark features and deeply tanned skin, he was beginning to look like one of the natives.

From the moment he’d sallied up to the bar with his signature alpha-male walk, he’d turned heads like light attracting moths. Female eyes appraised him and found him to their liking. Male eyes followed their companions’ stares and a sudden wave of testosterone-driven posturing had begun.

Cozumel was beautiful and warm and a million miles from Langley. They’d needed a vacation and some time alone. They both had big career decisions waiting for them back in Arlington, but for this week, they could bask in the sun, snorkel in the ocean, make love on the beach and forget about their careers.

Still attracting attention, Conrad shot her a grin as he worked his way around a group of sunbathers dotting his path. She smiled back, absently rubbing the new silver band on her left ring finger.

Looking down at the book in her lap, she carefully reread a line of prose Emily Brontë had written more than a century before.

Whatever our souls are made of,

his and mine are the same.

Raising her head, Julia felt a warm ripple of familiarity when her gaze locked with Con’s.

He’s mine
, she thought.
All mine.

Look for these titles by Misty Evans

Twelve years after her sister’s disappearance, Haley Carling spends her days trying to hold what’s left of her family together, running her late father’s shop and caring for her alcoholic mother. Then her sister’s remains are uncovered in the basement of their old home, and fingers start pointing. At the Carlings.

Dean Lawson, long the prime suspect in the Carling girl’s disappearance, is sure he’s got evidence proving who the killer is. He’s determined to clear his name, and he won’t let anything stand in his way. Not even his lingering attraction to Haley.

Haley is just as determined to protect her family from the former town bad boy’s accusations. But now someone is stalking her, and Haley realizes Dean’s the only one she can trust.

With a killer closing in, Dean wonders if he’s made the biggest mistake of his life…a mistake that could cost Haley her life.

Warning: This title contains a mystery to keep you turning the pages late into the night.

As she drove into the lot, she spotted Dean’s car parked in front of one of the rooms and pulled up next to it. What was she doing here, really? Hadn’t she had enough drama for one day? Maybe, but she needed to know why he was back. Why now?

With a sigh she opened the door and stepped out into the cold. The walk running the length of the motel had been shoveled, exposing weathered wood planks. She crossed to his door and knocked loudly before she changed her mind.

After a moment, the door swung back and Dean filled the opening. He didn’t look at all surprised to see her. Al had probably called to warn him after she’d left.

She could understand how she hadn’t recognized him. The boyishness had left his face, making his features sharper, almost predatory and, if at all possible, more attractive. Even his body seemed harder and leaner than she remembered.

Her heart rate quickened, and something fluttered in her stomach. Could he really have killed Michelle?

Killer or not, she would have to say something soon. She couldn’t just stand there staring like a twit all day.

“I didn’t recognize you earlier,” she said. Better than silence, but only marginally.

Dean leaned casually against the frame. “I figured.”

“Erin recognized you.” She should have stuck with silence.

“What do you want, Haley?” His voice was deep and quiet.

“Why are you here?”

He sighed and moved aside. “Do you want to come in?”

She hesitated. If she went inside that room, would anyone ever see her again? Allister was the only person who knew where she was and she didn’t have a whole lot of faith he’d come to her rescue if she needed him to.

“People know where I am,” she said at last.

Dean smirked, but said nothing as she stepped inside, closing the door behind her.

“Nice place you have here, Matthew Clarke,” she said, taking in the faded beige wallpaper and gold shag carpet. An ugly oil painting of a gnarly sea captain hung over the sagging double bed.

“I wanted to keep a low profile.”

“I thought you would have stayed with Al.”

“Have you seen Al’s apartment?” A faint smile touched his lips. “This place is a palace.”

He had a point. She had seen Al’s apartment once and had gone straight home and showered.

“Sit down,” he offered, gesturing to the only chair in the room. As she pulled it away from the desk, she noticed a thick envelope and file folder with bits of paper curling around the edge stacked neatly in the top corner. She would have loved to go through those pages. To see just what Dean studied on alone in a grubby motel room.

“So,” she said. “Why are you here?”

“Maybe I just wanted to pay my respects.” He sat on the corner of the bed, his eyes bright and his mouth still twisted in that slightly mocking smirk.

“By lurking in the parking lot?”

The grin vanished. “I wasn’t in the parking lot the whole time. I watched the service from the door. When I saw you get up and start to leave I decided to go.”

“You came back for the memorial?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged.

“Or maybe you’re worried there’s something to link you to Michelle after all.”

A tiny muscle twitched in his jaw. “Is that what you think?”

I don’t know what to think, and you’re not giving anything away.
“I don’t think you came back here just to watch Michelle’s memorial from an open door. So why not tell me what you’re really doing here?”

“What do you want me to say, Haley? That I did it? That I killed her?”

“Did you?”

“If I did, it wasn’t too smart to come looking for me now, was it?” His voice was quiet, but there was an edge, jagged, like a serrated blade.

A tiny ember ignited within her. A slow fury growing hotter and brighter each time he spoke. “Are you threatening me?”

“No,” he said on a sigh, suddenly sounding very tired. “No, I’m not.”

“Why are you here?” she asked again.

“I’m not ready to tell anyone yet, but when I am, I’ll tell you first.”

“That’s it? That’s the best you can do?”

He nodded.

“Well, sorry, not good enough. Tell me why you’re back. I’m not going anywhere until you talk.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “I was thinking about ordering dinner. Pizza or Chinese?”

“This isn’t a joke, Dean. My sister is dead.”

“I know. And I will tell you why I’ve come back, but not yet. I need to be sure of some things first.”

“Fine. You have until tomorrow. If I don’t get some answers before the end of the day, there isn’t a person in this town who won’t know you’re here.”

Haley stood and strode out the door, suppressing a smile at the sight of his stony stare.

As she marched to the wreck parked next to his car, Dean stood in the open doorway, half shocked, half irritated, shaking his head.

She’d threatened him.

It took her three tries to get her heap started, taking a little something away from her dramatic exit. But not much. As he closed the door, he could hardly believe it. Quiet little Haley, who used to watch him with those amazing eyes so long ago, had threatened him. And he didn’t doubt for a second that she meant what she said. To think, he actually felt sorry for her for a second there.

He would have to get things done tonight. That was probably better anyway. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could get the hell out of this town.