The Traitor's Pawn

by Lisa Harris

  She’d given him nothing. How could she approve of the way he’d walked out on her mother, especially when he was marrying a woman barely ten years older than she was. But what had hurt the most was that he never asked about her mother that day or any other day. He probably didn’t even know when the cancer came back again with a vengeance and the doctors didn’t expect her to live more than a few more months. And why would he? As far as he was concerned, Mary Grayson was a piece of his past, and Rachel was the woman who was going to make him feel young again.

  The memories pressed in around her. She’d seen the fire in her father’s eyes that day. The lilt in his voice as if he’d struck gold. And in the end, Rachel had only been another step toward his ruin.

  She dragged her mind back to the present as she walked beside Jack up the long brick walkway in silence and focused on trying to ignore the ball of nerves in the pit of her stomach. Thoughts of her father were something she was used to dealing with, but she thought she’d buried her feelings about him years ago. No, erased them. But clearly, she was wrong. The last few hours had resurrected emotions she’d rather forget, leaving her feeling small and vulnerable.

  She studied Jack’s profile as he stepped onto the porch. It seemed strange, seeing him after so many years, and now they’d been thrown into working a case together. He’d always been a calming presence in her life, and somehow that hadn’t changed at all. He was still that grounding in the midst of the chaos swirling around her. She drew in a long, slow breath. She could do this. There was a higher purpose at stake, which meant she couldn’t let personal feelings get in the way.

  Jack stopped in front of a pair of massive wooden front doors and rang the doorbell. A man in his late thirties wearing shorts and a T-shirt opened the door with his cell phone in his hand.

  “It’s about time.” His frown deepened as he stared at them. “Except you’re not the plumber.”

  Jack shot Aubrey a side glance. “No . . . I’m FBI Special Agent Jack Shannon, and this is Detective Aubrey Grayson. You’re Corey Porter?”

  She recognized the man from Rachel’s Facebook page as her husband.

  He, on the other hand, clearly didn’t recognize Aubrey or her name, which shouldn’t surprise her. She had a feeling Rachel didn’t share details about her ex-husband’s family.

  “FBI?” He took a closer look at Jack’s badge and frowned. “What’s going on?”

  “We need to speak to your wife, Rachel. Is she at home?” Aubrey asked.

  “Give me a second.” He told whoever he was talking to that he would have to call them back, then turned to Jack. “Listen, I don’t know what this is about, but unless you’ve got some kind of warrant, you’re going to need to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Your wife isn’t in any kind of trouble. We’re looking for some information she might have.”

  He hesitated a few more seconds. “Information?”

  “About someone she used to know. Just a couple of questions, that’s all.”

  “Fine. Rachel . . .” He shouted from the entryway for his wife to come to the door.

  They heard the click of heels against the wood floor and then, “Aubrey . . . wow . . . it’s been a long time.” Rachel glanced at her husband, then back to Bree. “I guess you met my husband, Corey.”

  Aubrey smiled at her. “Yes. We have.”

  Rachel hadn’t aged since the last time she’d seen her, though from the look of her slightly frozen brow, tanned skin, and bleached hair, she’d had some help keeping her face timeless.

  Aubrey felt a sudden wave of discomfort, just like the first time she’d met Rachel. She was only ten years younger than the woman who, for whatever reason, decided to marry her father. The arrangement had always bothered her.

  “You know each other?” Corey asked.

  “We’ve met,” Aubrey said, leaving it at that. “Not in regard to police business, of course, but socially, though it’s been a long time.”

  Corey looked confused but didn’t say anything. Neither did he move away from the door. Clearly Rachel had never told him about the daughter of her ex-husband, which could make this situation even more awkward. “I’m assuming this is police business, judging by the FBI badge?”

  “We are here on official business.” She flashed her own badge. There was clearly an issue between Rachel and her new husband, but there was no reason Aubrey needed to disclose their former relationship. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but we’re looking for a way to contact Charles Ramsey.”

  “Charles?” Rachel’s gaze dropped. “Is he in trouble—”

  “Wait a minute . . .” Corey grabbed the doorframe with one hand. “Your ex-husband?”

  “The FBI needs to talk with him,” Jack said, leaving it at that. “We’re having trouble tracking him down. We thought you might know where he is.”

  Aubrey tried to read Rachel’s expression as she glanced at her husband. Annoyance? Fear? She wasn’t sure.

  Rachel sucked in a sharp breath. “You have to understand that when I walked out of his life, I walked out for good. I haven’t talked to him since the divorce was finalized, and I don’t want to. He was a mistake I’d like to forget.”

  “So you have no way at all to contact him?” Aubrey asked.

  Her gaze shifted again. “I just said I haven’t talked to him since I signed the divorce papers, and I’m married again, so . . . there was never a reason to keep in touch with him. And honestly, I’d like to leave the past in the past.”

  “I understand. I’m sorry to bother you.” Jack handed her his business card. “If you do happen to hear from him, please give me a call. It is very important that we get ahold of him.”

  “Of course, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.”

  She was simply another victim in the wake of her father’s destruction.

  Aubrey started back down the driveway with Jack, feeling his irritation. “There was something about the way she answered that made it seem like she knows something she’s not telling us,” she said.

  “I agree, but why?”

  “The number one reason would be her husband. He could be the jealous type. We have no idea how much she’s told him about her ex, and if she’s seen him . . .”

  “Is there anything else you can think of about her that might help?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know her well. I never did. She eloped with my father. He brought her to meet me a few days before they got married. He wanted my approval, but I tried to act like I didn’t care. The bottom line is that there was never a relationship between the two of us. To be honest, I never wanted any kind of relationship with her, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t either. The few times I was around her felt awkward, especially to a kid who just wanted to spend time with her father. Not with his new wife.”

  “So you think she’s seen your father?”

  “I’m not sure why she would, but it’s possible. Something seemed off with her answers.”

  Jack started to open his car door, then stopped. “You up for a walk and a bit of fresh air to clear your mind?”

  “Where to?”

  He shot her a grin, then started walking. “It’s not far.”

  “Okay.”

  She hurried to catch up with him, wondering what he had in mind. But maybe it didn’t matter. The weather was perfect, views of the winter beach were stunning, and the company wasn’t bad either.

  “You know, a few years ago, you wouldn’t have questioned my suggestion or missed a chance to go to the beach,” he said. “It was your favorite place. There’s a food truck set up nearby, so I was thinking some mini tacos and a bit of sunshine might be on the menu before the sun sets.”

  Ten minutes later she was sitting at one of the picnic tables that overlooked the beach where a family was playing in the sand. It wasn’t the first time they’d sat in this very same spot. Back then they would have grabbed takeaway and headed out on the beach with some of their friends in time to catch the sunset. She held on
to the memory as he made his way to the table and set down a couple packets of tacos in front of her.

  “I didn’t think I was hungry, but I was wrong,” she said, taking the drink and food he offered her. For the moment, anyway, she was content to just enjoy his company. “It doesn’t get much better than this. Seventy-two-degree weather, a couple mini tacos—”

  “And don’t forget the company.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t get much better than this, can you? I confess, I’ve spent far too much time working and not near enough enjoying what’s around me.”

  “Hazards of the trade, and on top of that you were supposed to be on your vacation right now.”

  “Some vacation.” She added some fresh pico de gallo to her taco, then took a bite. “I’ll have to ask for a few more days to make up for this one.”

  But as much as she enjoyed his company, she couldn’t get her father off her mind—how he could be a traitor to the country she loved and served.

  “Bree.” Jack met her gaze. “You need to know that many people who are recruited don’t start out planning to betray their country.”

  He could still read her thoughts. “Meaning my father didn’t wake up one day and just decide to become a traitor?”

  “It usually happens gradually,” Jack said.

  But how he got there wasn’t the point. She knew it was greed that had kept him on the path.

  Jack’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Now this is interesting.”

  “Who is it?”

  “A text message from Rachel.”

  Aubrey frowned. “Really?”

  “She says she wants to meet up with us in town in thirty minutes.”

  “Does she say why?”

  “No, but it seems pretty clear that she’s wanting to talk to us without her husband standing there.”

  “So we were right.” She caught Jack’s gaze and frowned. “She was hiding something.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, she and Jack slipped into a coffee bar on the south side of town with colorful tables and chairs and an eclectic mixture of pictures on the walls, including coffee quotes, local sports team paraphernalia, and a few signed celebrity photographs. Even in mid-November, Christmas music was already playing, and the owners had a lopsided Charlie Brown Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with coffee-themed ornaments. Not really the kind of place she could imagine her father’s ex-wife hanging out, but maybe that was the point. If she was hiding something—and Aubrey was certain she was—this was a perfect meeting place.

  Aubrey studied the busy room, where most of the tables were already filled and half a dozen customers sat on comfortable chairs, glued to their laptops. But there was no sign of Rachel.

  “Do you want something to drink while we wait?” Jack asked.

  She glanced up at the long list of specialty coffees. “I could use some caffeine.”

  “So could I. You still prefer your latte with extra milk and two sugars?”

  She smiled. “You remembered.”

  His hand brushed hers as he started for the counter. “It’s not been that long.”

  “The place is filling up, so I’ll get us a seat.”

  A strange stir slipped through her at his unassuming touch. Familiarity? Wistfulness? She couldn’t put a name to it, nor was she sure what just passed between them. It brought up memories of carefree Saturdays at the beach she’d always thought would last forever. But nothing ever really lasted forever. She’d come to accept the reality that there were new stages of life, things changed, and that was okay. What she didn’t expect was for her feelings to be so strong at seeing him again.

  She slipped into one of the last booths in the back of the room that gave her a clear view of the front door. If she were honest with herself, she’d thought about Jack often over the past few years, wondering why they’d let their friendship drift apart. She really couldn’t blame either of them completely. After he moved, they called and exchanged text messages frequently at first until one day she couldn’t remember the last time they talked. It happened so gradually, and life was so busy, she realized she hadn’t even noticed. Which made her sad.

  It felt strange to watch him ordering coffee while she sat waiting for him. She almost expected him to return to the table and start talking about classes and what they were going to do over the weekend. Their relationship had always been strictly friendship. He was her best friend since sixth grade, which was all she wanted. And she’d made an effort to keep it that way. The handful of times she’d felt something more try to trickle in between them, she’d managed to force those feelings to disappear, because she’d been terrified that if they stepped into the water of a relationship, everything they had would change between them. And if they broke up, they might have lost it all.

  Like what had happened between her mother and father.

  The comparison wasn’t new to her. She knew that was where her fear of a relationship with Jack had originated. Her parents’ relationship had made her gun-shy, but she couldn’t compare her relationship with Jack to her parents’. Her mother and father had been good friends during college, then, two months before graduation, they both realized that they wanted more out of the relationship. Her mother confessed once that she wondered what would have happened if she had taken the scholarship for a master’s degree in musical performance at Guildhall in the UK, but her father had somehow talked her into staying and teaching at a small school on the Gulf Coast, eventually settling in Corpus.

  Was that really the only reason she’d always made sure nothing romantic developed between her and Jack? It wasn’t the first time she’d asked herself that question. What if she’d been wrong? But then when Adam asked her out, for some reason she said yes. She always enjoyed Adam’s sense of humor and his love for the great outdoors, but Adam had never been Jack. Not long into their new relationship, she realized Adam wasn’t what she wanted. He wasn’t Jack.

  But by that time, telling Jack—or Adam for that matter—seemed too late. And besides, by then Jack was already gone. Telling him how she felt would have made things even more awkward than they already were.

  She glanced up and saw him maneuver his way through the busy café with the two drinks in his hands and a small paper bag, making her suddenly wish they weren’t working on a case but were simply here to catch up on the past few years.

  He set her drink on the table, then slid into the booth across from her.

  “Thank you.”

  “The tacos were great, but I couldn’t resist the macaroons.”

  She laughed. “You never could. You’ve always had an incurable sweet tooth. Don’t think I ever saw you turn down any dessert.”

  “You know me too well.”

  “Dipped in chocolate?”

  “Of course.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, then reached into the bag, pulled out one, and handed it to her before grabbing another one for himself.

  “I still have a love for the water and street tacos, and you still love macaroons,” she said. “Maybe time hasn’t changed us as much as it feels like sometimes when I look in the mirror.”

  Jack laughed. “Trust me. You haven’t aged a day since I saw you last.”

  “And you are just as charming.”

  “What about the bucket list you were always going to finish by the time you turned thirty?”

  She took a sip of her coffee, then sat back, wanting for a moment to forget the reason they were really there. “For starters, I finally did the sixty-mile Tour de Houston this year and took my first cruise in the Caribbean with the McKenna family. What about you?”

  “I went skydiving on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

  “Not bad. I’ve still got that on my bucket list.”

  “What about traveling?” he asked. “Besides the cruise. I know you always wanted to go to Italy and Australia.”

  “Went to Italy and France two years ago. Still hop
ing for Australia, though it might not be before I’m forty.”

  He smiled at her with that broad, familiar grin. Coming from a dysfunctional homelife that had done a number on her self-esteem, she loved the way he’d always made her feel safe and cared for. Somehow, with him involved in this case, she felt just as safe.

  The bells on the front door chimed, dragging her attention back to the reason they were here, and it had nothing to do with macaroons or future trips to Australia. Rachel walked through the door. She’d changed into workout clothes and a light jacket. She slid into the booth next to Aubrey, clearly uncomfortable with her surroundings. Or maybe she was just uncomfortable meeting with the FBI.

  “I told my husband I was going to the gym, but then again, I didn’t exactly tell you the truth either.”

  Aubrey wrapped her fingers around her drink. “Maybe you should explain.”

  “I . . . I saw your father a couple days ago.”

  “Here in Corpus?”

  She nodded. “He called me up out of the blue and asked me to meet him for lunch at the Omni Hotel.”

  “What did he want?” Jack asked.

  Rachel hesitated before answering. “He needed to borrow some money.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten grand.”

  Jack’s brow rose. “And did you give it to him?”

  “No. I’m well off, thanks to my husband, but even he’d notice that kind of money disappearing out of our account. I told him he was going to have to go find someone else. He tried to assure me it was just for a couple weeks and that he could pay it back with interest, but I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him.”

  “Did he say what he wanted the money for?” Aubrey asked.

  “He said he needed to leave the country and had run short on funds he could access quickly, though he promised me he had a big payout just around the corner. Then again, he was always talking about the next big deal that would change everything. I just figured he had to be pretty desperate to come to me. I also know that he could talk most people into anything, but I already learned my lesson.”