She’d missed him so much.
Chuckling, he lifted her up and had her on his bed before she’d caught her breath. She’d never seen him so happy. She laid her hand over his cheek, savoring his warm skin against her cool palm. She didn’t want to leave Morgan. Ever.
He kissed her slowly, and tenderly, then his lips dragged away. “I adore you Phoebe Clay,” he said, “and I want to spend the rest of my life doing nothing but making you glad you came over to my place.”
Phoebe’s breath caught. Was he admitting he loved her?
A frown line appeared on his forehead and his smile faded. “What’s the matter?” His hand brushed her hair off her face. “Tell me. We can solve anything together. Is your aunt still upset about her missing cat?”
She took a deep breath and then another. Her mother was right. If she was serious about this relationship, and she couldn’t imagine life without Morgan anymore, it was time to tell him the truth about what she did for a living – used to do – and what mattered most. “My work partner’s in trouble.”
His hand froze in the act of brushing her eyebrow. “In a shoe factory?”
“Morgan, I’m a government spy.”
“What?” His eyes widened, and then understanding slipped in. “You are a thief, but for the government. So, you don’t source out shoes?”
She shook her head, and flashed a wry smile. “It’s my cover. I do know where all the best shoe makers work in various countries. Recently, Matt and I were on a case in Sri Lanka. It hit a snag and we were in a lull, searching for new clues when Aunt Helen sent me her text about a family crisis.”
“And you rushed home,” Morgan finished, chuckling. “You have a loving heart, Phoebe.”
“It was a mistake,” she said in a grave tone. “Matt’s missing now. I should have stayed there until he received backup before leaving. Conroy’s coming to get me now.”
He leaned back, looking stunned. “You plan to put yourself in harm’s way to save this man?”
“Morgan, we were a team. His safety was my responsibility.”
“You’ve been here for a while. Conroy’s had time to find him backup.” Hands under his head, he glanced up at the ceiling. “He chose not to. He still hopes you’ll return to work. I saw his intent last night. I didn’t understand it at the time, now I do.” He slanted a concerned look her way. “Is that what you want? To stay working as a spy?”
Her mother had asked a similar question. Conroy came to her home town because he didn’t believe she was ready to quit. Now Morgan questioned her commitment to leave her old work? This combined doubt meant she should seriously consider the matter before responding. Did she wish to stay a spy? Is that why she was in a rush to return to Sri Lanka? The answer was a resounding, No!
She sat up cross-legged to face him. “I do enjoy visiting foreign places and learning different languages. However, the idea that Matt is currently in trouble is tearing me apart. So, No, I no longer wish to be a spy.”
“Ah, then you said no to Conroy.” He sighed and took her hand. “You had me there, for a second, Phoebe. I thought you were gearing up to tell me you were leaving. That you were planning to put our future in jeopardy.” He trailed a gentle finger along her chin. “Thank heavens that’s not what you want.”
Her pulse jerked at his caress.
“I don’t think I could have taken that,” he murmured. “I need to know you’re safe, that people aren’t trying to kill you. I couldn’t live like that, Phoebe. I’ve had to give up too many friends and loved ones. I won’t give you up, too.”
“You don’t have to, but Morgan, I am leaving. I have to help Matt.”
“What are you saying? Make me understand.”
“I once let a friend down and he died. I can’t repeat that mistake.”
“You’re talking about Johnny. They’re two different events. Conroy will send someone else. Matt will be fine.”
She rolled off the bed. “You don’t understand. I’m the one who can help him.”
He lay still, staring at her. The ball dropped. “You are leaving.”
“Not for long. I’ll go find him and bring him home. I know the right places to search.”
“You can’t leave Harrington Bay.” He jumped off the bed. “Court order.”
“Conroy will have taken care of that.”
“Let someone else save him,” Morgan said, sounding desperate.
She shook her head and hurried to the door.
“Phoebe, think this through. What are the odds that you would get called in, even after you’d handed in your resignation? If you feel you must jump in and risk your life every time...” he began, trailing after her.
She paused, hand on doorknob. She would let him finish. She chose to leave and she must face the consequences.
“...then I’m not the man you want, and you’re not the woman I need.” He finished with inconsolable sadness.
“Lenny’s upset, too,” she whispered, turning around. A mistake. The broken look in Morgan’s face etched itself into her soul. She had done what she told her mother she had no intention of doing, hurt Morgan. “Will you speak to him?”
“To tell him what?” he asked. “That I think you’ll return soon? I don’t believe that. Who knows what’s waiting for you over there? You could be captured or killed.”
She was running out of time. If Morgan wouldn’t help Lenny, she had to talk to her mother. Her cousin had sounded shattered on the phone, more so than Morgan was right now.
“I’m sorry,” she said and, checking the time on her cell, she ran out the door and down the stairs hoping his footsteps would follow. He couldn’t mean what he’d said. Her tears spilled. The house was silent as she let herself out.
She couldn’t be in two places at once and Matt’s need was imperative. In her absence, her mother would have to take care of Lenny and Morgan.
Attempting to be as silent as possible so she wouldn’t wake her father, she opened the bedroom door and tiptoed to her mother’s bedside. Brenda’s gaze tracked her as Phoebe knelt beside the bed. The old training must never wear off. Explained why her mother always caught her or her brothers whenever they were up to no good. A smile tugged at her lips at the memory of finding her mother at the back door every time she and her younger brother Michael were about to sneak out of the house after they’d been grounded.
Phoebe indicated the door and left.
Her mother followed her out and shut the door behind her. “You’re leaving.” There was a sad certainty in her voice.
“Matt’s in trouble,” Phoebe said.
Her mother nodded.
“Aren’t you going to talk me out of it?” she asked. “Tell me you knew all along I wasn’t serious about staying? That the first chance I got I’d be out of here?”
“Is that what Morgan said?” her mother asked.
“He probably thought all those things. All he asked was to help him understand.” Phoebe’s voice broke. “I tried, it didn’t work.”
Her mother hugged her. “Be careful,” she whispered, “and come home when you’re done, if only for me.”
“I promise,” she said. “Mom, will you talk to Lenny?”
“Lenny?” Her mother stepped back. “What about?’
“He sounded angry when I said I had to leave and I’m worried he might do something foolish. Tell him I’ll be back.”
Brenda avoided her gaze.
“You don’t believe me, either, do you?” Phoebe asked.
There was worry on her mother’s face. “It’s an addictive life. The only way I broke free was to do it cleanly and never look back.”
Phoebe stroked her mother's hand. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe Dad never stopped worrying you’d leave?”
“What do you mean?” Brenda asked.
“As you’ve said, it is an addictive life. The thrills balance out the hazards. Plus, you loved it.”
Her mother shook her head.
"Mom, a large part of my job
was boring, but there were moments of utter terror and a sense of supreme satisfaction when I accomplished what I set out to do. I don’t plan to give up on all that entirely. Just bring some of the excitement into HB. You gave it all up. Have you really been happy?”
Brenda folded her arms. “I’ve loved fussing over my husband and children. I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
Phoebe put her arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Are you sure the reason for our animosity isn’t in part that I’ve been living the life you’d denied yourself?”
“Right now,” her mother said, “I’m not sure of anything except that you’re my daughter and I love you. I know why you have to go.”
The whirling blades of a helicopter sounded overhead. Phoebe glanced out a back window in surprise. Conroy must consider this urgent if he came by air instead of a car. The large machine was set to land on their large, secluded back lawn. “That’s my ride to the airport.” She turned to her mother. “I have to help Matt. He’s my partner. It’s an integrity and honor thing, Mom.”
“Or you’ve never forgiven yourself for Johnny’s death,” her mother said.
Phoebe kissed her cheek and headed for the door. She grabbed her bag from the hallway and headed to the backyard.
A shout came from behind her.
Aunt Helen waved to her from the back porch, but the whining whirl of the blades chased away her words. Phoebe gestured she couldn’t hear and carried on.
Aunt Helen ran after her. “Phoebe!”
“I have to go,” Phoebe said. “Mom will explain.”
“Lenny just called,” her aunt said. “He asked you to wait. He wants to come with you.”
Fresh tears gathered again in Phoebe’s eyes. She hugged her aunt. “Tell him I’m sorry.”
As she entered the helicopter, Conroy handed her a heavy packet. From experience, she knew that since Matt might be compromised, it would contain a passport with a new name and a dossier with pertinent facts she’d have to memorize before she got on the plane. They rose into the air and she glanced out the window.
Neighbors were coming out to look at the spectacle. This would be a seven-day wonder, but they’d all forget it soon enough when they didn’t get any real answers from the Clays.
At her home, her parents stood by the open back door beside Aunt Helen and Grandfather Walter. By the hedge separating their two properties, Morgan watched her departure, too, arms folded and feet set apart. His grandfather came up beside him and put his arm around Morgan’s shoulders.
Down the Clay driveway, a car screeched to a halt. Lenny jumped out and ran toward the lawn waving. He gestured wildly for her to come back.
Conroy took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “You’ve made the right decision, Phoebe.” Through the headphones, he sounded distant.
She shook off his hold, her chest tight and ears buzzing with more than the sound of the motor. If this was the right decision, why did it feel so wrong?
MORGAN SLOUCHED ON the leather sofa and rested his head back. The day after Phoebe left, his grandfather had taken Helen to his cottage, ostensibly to help him redecorate.
Since then, this house had felt as empty as Morgan’s days. He preferred to keep the curtains closed and the lights dimmed. He’d lost interest in work and cancelled his Portland appointment. The television also held little appeal and his favorite music bothered his eardrums. All he’d wanted to hear was the helicopter returning to bring Phoebe home. To him.
For days, he’d walked like a zombie from room to room. He’d ignored phone calls and knocks at his door. He’d avoided work and friends. His greatest fear of losing someone he loved had crashed around him and he hadn’t a clue how to stitch his life back together.
As a child, whenever his grandfather moved him to a different city or country, he deliberately set out to make new friends. He hadn't let go of the old, either, and ran up the phone bill keeping in touch. As an adult, faced with the same sense of loss, he didn’t want to talk to anyone. He wanted to be alone.
Today was Thursday. The fourth day since she left. He had to believe she was safe. Soon, she’d stroll back into his life. Did he want her to? What if she were called to duty again? Could he handle not knowing if she were alive or dead?
Who was he fooling? No, he couldn’t.
One fact remained clear. Phoebe chose Matt over him. The minute her partner needed her, off she’d flown.
She said she’d be back in a few days. Yet, there had been no word from her. Was she hurt? Killed? Who knew.
A key turned in the door and he snapped to attention.
“Who is it?” he called out.
“It’s me, Mr. Harrington,” his grandfather’s cleaner said. “Your fiancé asked me to let her in. She’s been worried about you.”
Phoebe? He raced to the front door, wondering why she hadn't just broken in. He halted at the sight of Janet strolling in carrying a grocery bag. His disappointment was profound.
Janet nodded to the older woman and ushered her out. She shut the door and approached. “You look terrible,” she said running a finger over his stubble.
It had been days since he’d shaved. “I want you to leave.” He was in no mood for her antics.
She headed for the kitchen, turning on lights.
He slumped against the wall, too heart-sore to object.
“Would you like steak or chicken for lunch?” Janet called.
Morgan pushed away and followed her to the kitchen. “I’d like you to leave.”
She gave him a side-glance but her quick movements as she unpacked the groceries didn’t falter.
“I’m not in a mood to deal with you right now,” he said.
She paused, hip resting against the island and arms folded across her chest. “Too bad,” she said. “I’m in the mood to deal with you, Morgan Harrington. When you broke up with me, you had your say. Now it’s my turn.”
His head was fuzzy from lack of sleep and his temper shorter than an inchworm. “Fine,” he said. “Have your say and haul away my truck again, if you want.”
She reached for the potatoes and he held up a hand. “No food. Just talk. You’re right, I owe you that.”
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I understand what you said about not being in love with me.” She gave him a tender glance. “I don’t agree that you will not come to love me one day.”
At his deep sigh, she came closer and stroked his arm. “Morgan, hear me out. Phoebe leaving should show you that you don’t want a future with someone like her. She’s unreliable. You need someone who will be there for you, who’ll put your needs before hers.” She brushed his hair behind his ears. “You need someone who wants to take care of you, who’ll make you her priority. I’m that woman. I promise to never leave you.”
She listed the very same characteristics for a life partner that he’d once made. Now that list sounded selfish and self-centered. Had he really expected Phoebe to give up her life for him? That she shouldn’t feel a friend in trouble was more important than his feelings? Yes, he had. The answer shook him to his core. Then came a question his grandfather often asked. What are you going to do about it?
He took Janet’s hand and hurried her toward the entryway. All the way there, his and Phoebe’s last conversation played in his head. He’d sent her off into a crisis without first telling her that he loved her. That alone might have made her fight to come back to him safe. He was such a fool.
“Morgan, did you hear what I said?” Janet asked.
He swung her around and gave her a rough hug. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Morgan, what are you saying?” she asked.
“Janet, when you find a man who doesn’t expect you to always put his needs above yours,” he said as gently as he could, “you’ll know you’ve found the right guy.”
He ushered her out the door and shut it. He had to find a way to get in touch with Phoebe and tell her that he loved her.
Chapter 13
; With Helen out of town, Brenda and David Clay were his best bet to help him get in touch with Phoebe. Also, he had a gut feeling that Brenda would know how he could locate where her daughter had been sent. Time to test that intuition. Morgan raced up the stairs to shower and shave and make himself presentable before he went over to talk to his future in-laws.
After three pushes, he gave up on the doorbell next door. Morgan raised his fist to rap when Brenda answered the door.
“Morgan,” she said. “Thank goodness you’re all right. I was worried when you wouldn’t answer my calls.”
“I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.”
“Did Phoebe call you?” she asked.
David came up behind her and pulled the door open wider. “Did you say my daughter called?”
Morgan shook his head and asked again to come inside. They ushered him to the living room where he chose to pace rather than take the chair they offered.
Brenda sat beside her husband on the couch. “What’s got you so upset?”
He paused in front of her, then sat on the coffee table and took her hands. “I love Phoebe.”
Brenda smiled. “I know. I’m sure she knows, too.”
“That’s just it,” he said. “She doesn’t. I told her not to bother coming back if she left. I pushed away the woman I love because she acted in exactly the way that makes me love her. Why couldn’t I see it? She was worried about Matt because of her experience with Johnny. She had to try to save him because she hadn’t been there for Johnny.”
“My daughter has Survivor’s Guilt Syndrome,” David said, in a disgruntled tone. “She didn’t stay home long enough for us to help her deal with that after Johnny died. I hoped that over time she would recover. It appears, she hasn’t yet.”
“Conroy knew exactly how she’d react if her partner was in trouble and played on her fears.” Brenda’s voice was grim.
“I’m glad you both see it that way,” Morgan said, “because I need your help.”
“To do what?” David asked.
Morgan faced him. “I want to find her and explain how I feel.”
David shook his head. “I don’t see how you plan to do that, son. Not until she returns home.”
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