by Lisa Harris
He paused to flip the pancakes.
“I apologize for the theatrics,” he continued, “but I needed to talk with you. I’ve got two foreign governments plus my own after me.”
“The FBI is planning to charge you with treason.”
“But none of it’s true, Aubrey. And once I realized the feds were there at the hotel, I panicked. I figured the only way to talk to you was to get you out of there without getting arrested myself.”
“You took another woman hostage, then kidnapped me.”
“I never would have hurt either of you.” He dropped the spatula onto the counter. “Just like I didn’t kill Christiansen. I just went to talk with him. He was alive when I left.”
“Why go talk with him?”
“He had something I needed.”
“So you tried to blackmail him.”
Her father looked away. “You still don’t get it. I was out of options, but I am sorry. None of this was my original plan.”
She frowned at his excuses. “Sorry doesn’t go very far when over the past week I’ve been shot at and kidnapped all because of your actions. Even if you didn’t pull the trigger, you tried to force Christiansen to give you classified information—”
“No. This is why I wanted to talk to you and prove to you that I’m innocent, and the feds are wrong. I’m trying to figure out a way to stop this. I know I wasn’t the best husband and father, but I’m not a traitor to my country. Surely you wouldn’t think that of me, Aubrey.”
The knots in her stomach tightened. Aubrey frowned at the familiar technique. First the excuses, then the guilt . . . He’d always been a smooth talker. Trying to fix everything he’d broken with snake oil and empty promises. But she wasn’t ten anymore, and his lies weren’t going to work.
“So you weren’t planning to use me to get what you want?” she asked.
“You were okay with using me to get what you want.”
She pushed a bite around with her fork. He had a comeback for everything.
“I served my country for thirty-five years.” He flipped over the bubbly pancakes. “Do you think I’d suddenly become a traitor? I’m not plotting against this country. I’m working to take down the very same people the FBI is.”
Aubrey shoved her plate away, trying to swallow the nausea. He couldn’t be serious. How in the world was he able to rationalize that selling secrets to China and Russia made him a hero? On the other hand, she couldn’t miss the sincerity in his expression. Surely he didn’t really believe what he was doing was the right thing. Or maybe he’d lived with the lies for so long he’d started to believe them.
What she did know was that she wasn’t ready to believe him.
“The FBI has evidence that you’re involved in selling secrets,” she said. “Secrets that compromise national security. If you’re innocent, then why not simply go to them and tell them the truth?”
“Because secrets were sold.” He pressed his lips together, hesitating. “I just wasn’t the one who sold them.”
She looked up and caught his gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“Rachel and I had been married about two years when I first realized that someone had hacked into my computer. I spoke with Rachel about it, but she denied it. Of course I wanted to believe her, but she was the only one that had access to it. That’s when I started digging into her past.” He turned off the burner and rested his hands on the counter. “I found out that she was born in Russia and eventually, I found out that she was put here in the US to help identify potential targets that could be used as assets for her government. That she was a Russian spy. And she was stealing classified information from me.”
The news took Aubrey by surprise. Not that she’d ever liked or trusted Rachel, but she’d always seemed more like the victim. If what her father was saying was true, she’d managed to play them all.
“From the look on your face, it’s clear that’s not what she told you.” He stared out the window at the ocean. “By the time I figured out what was going on, she told me that there was plenty of evidence stacked up against me, that the feds would arrest me if I tried to turn her in. I decided at that point I didn’t want to just take down Rachel, but the entire ring.”
“You can see how it looks to the feds.”
“Yes, but I had to have solid evidence before I turned her and her cohorts in.”
“And the Chinese?”
He leaned forward. “I figured I could take them down at the same time. Don’t you see?”
“If you didn’t feel that you could go to the FBI, why didn’t you go to one of your bosses and tell them what was going on?”
“Because I didn’t have enough evidence to prove my innocence. And I knew that the Russians and the Chinese were watching me. I had to gain their trust. Going to someone in the CIA would have destroyed everything. Don’t you understand? If anything, I’m a hero, Aubrey. All I need is a little more time. I’ve sold them a few bits of intel, nothing that really compromises anything, and in the end, I’ll have enough to bring them down. What they’re accusing me of is exactly what I’m trying to stop. And why I can’t take a chance that the FBI and your Agent Shannon will ever believe me.”
“His name is Jack,” Aubrey said.
“Whose?”
“Agent Shannon.” She looked up at him. “His name is Jack. He was my best friend growing up.”
“I thought he looked familiar.” Her father grabbed a fork and sat down across from her with his plate of pancakes. “I remember going to one of his basketball games, then out for pizza. You guys seemed inseparable.”
“Jack would listen to you. And if what you are saying proves to be true, he’ll help you.”
“I don’t know if I can take a chance, especially now that Christiansen is dead. I’m sure they’re looking for a way to pin his death on me as well.” He pushed a bite around with his fork. “You might not believe this, but despite everything that’s happened, I only have one regret. And that’s you and your mother.”
She waited for him to continue.
“I honestly never meant for things to end this way between us. Or between your mother and me. I loved her, you know. In fact, she was the first woman I ever loved, and probably the last as well.”
She heard his words, trying to read his face. Could she really believe he regretted what happened? Regretted leaving his family and trying to find happiness somewhere else? She still wasn’t sure.
She glanced at the packed bags sitting on the floor. “Why did you really bring me here? Why did you need to talk to me?”
“Because I need your help, Aubrey.” He looked up and met her gaze. “I need you to help me put an end to all of this.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
JACK PACED INSIDE THE FBI OFFICE at One Shoreline Plaza, located less than a hundred yards from the Corpus Christi Bay, trying to stop himself from going into a full-blown panic. He was starting to question his decisions. Taking risks was one thing, but everything they’d done so far had seemed to backfire.
And now, because of last night’s decision, Bree was missing.
Ramsey’s black SUV had been found ditched in a parking lot early this morning. If her father had fled—taking Bree with him as a hostage—they could already be hundreds of miles in any direction. North through San Antonio and Dallas, northeast through Houston, west through El Paso and Tucson, or even south across the border into Mexico. And those routes didn’t even include a water getaway.
Further questioning of Ramsey’s ex-wife, Rachel, had convinced him she didn’t know where he’d gone. He also wanted to know who had leaked Ramsey’s possible involvement in Sean Christiansen’s death to the media, something that might have sparked the man’s erratic reaction. But so far, he had no idea what had motivated last night’s behavior.
Jack stared out of the large window at the bay, trying to come up with a next move. They’d canvassed the hotel, interviewing staff and guests, scoured security footage across the city, and sent i
n forensic technicians to process the SUV, but every lead had simply led to yet another dead end.
“You doing okay? I’m sure you didn’t sleep at all last night.”
Jack turned around at the sound of his brother’s voice.
“I didn’t, but I’ll be fine.” He pointed to a large cup of coffee on the desk where he’d been sitting. “My third cup this morning and it’s not even nine.”
Adam had arrived at the local offices early this morning in order to help the roomful of agents sift through data as they searched for answers. But they’d lost Ramsey’s trail. They had no license plate number, no make and model of a car . . . nothing. Which meant Bree could be anywhere.
“What does he need her for, Adam?” Jack asked. “Some kind of leverage? What’s his motivation?”
Adam shook his head. “From everything I’ve read about the case, I think his priority right now is to get the money he needs so he can disappear. As for Aubrey’s involvement . . . I’m still not sure why he needs her.”
“He’s using her for something.”
Adam put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “We’re going to find her, but in the meantime, why don’t you go back to the senator’s house? Take a shower and sleep for a couple hours—”
“I can’t.”
“He’s right, Jack.” Agent Brewster walked up to him with a file folder. “Though you might want to hear what the coroner’s office just sent us first.”
“Does he have a cause of death yet?”
Brewster nodded. “Sean Christiansen committed suicide.”
“So, Ramsey didn’t kill him,” Adam said.
“We know he didn’t pull the trigger,” Jack said. “He still might have been the motivating factor. Brewster, I want you to keep trying to track down the reporter that leaked the story last night and get them up here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack jumped as his phone rang. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket, praying it was Bree. Caller ID said Unknown Caller.
“Jack?”
“Bree.” He felt a flood of relief at the sound of her voice. He put the call on speaker. “Where are you?”
“I’m safe. He had someone drop me off at the Bar & Grill next to the pier where we used to go.”
“Okay . . . Where’s your father?”
“He’s not with me, but we need to talk.”
“Okay, but are you sure you’re safe?”
“I’m fine. I promise. I’m in a public place. I decided I’d rather have you come get me than call 911 and end up with half the city’s law enforcement picking me up.”
“Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you now.”
“Brewster and I will come with you,” Adam said after Jack hung up. “We can’t take any chances at this point.”
A minute later, Jack was heading toward the pier, praying she really was fine. She’d sounded okay, but until he saw her—until he knew what her father’s endgame was—he wasn’t going to assume anything.
He stopped at a red light, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, regretting—not for the first time—ever letting her get involved. He knew she was completely capable of running an investigation, but this situation had become far too personal.
He started praying as he waited for the light to change. Praying for wisdom and discernment, and peace for Bree as she lived with the consequences of her father’s actions. He wanted to pull her from the case, but knew she’d never walk away from this. And he knew he’d never make her. He sighed as the light turned green and he sped through the intersection. It had been a long time since he’d worried this much about someone.
A long time since he’d loved someone as deeply as he loved her. But it was true.
He’d loved her for as long as he could remember, and somehow, he let her get away. Then after last night, he was so afraid he’d never see her again. Terrified that just when he finally got her back into his life, he’d lose her because of someone else’s greed.
How was he supposed to tell her that he’d always loved her but never told her? That he could do his job and risk his life to save others, but when it came to his heart, he was a fumbling mess. He should have told her years ago how he felt, but instead, he’d been a fool and walked away instead of facing the truth.
The ocean spread out to his right as he sped down the road. Bree stole his heart from the first time he met her years ago, and he was just now admitting to himself that nothing had changed about that.
“Jack.”
He nodded at his brother riding shotgun. “I’m fine.”
She was fine.
She had to be.
Five minutes later, he pulled in front of the restaurant and parked in the sand. “Let me go alone.”
“We’re right here if you need us,” Adam said.
She was standing on the pier on the other side of the restaurant, leaning against the wooden railing and looking out over the water as a storm brewed in the distance. The wind tugged against her hair where wisps had come out of her ponytail. She was beautiful. He’d always known that, but it had been more than her appearance that had drawn him to her. Even before he’d known he loved her.
For whatever reason, they’d always clicked. She was the person he could laugh with, and still tell her anything. She loved fingernail polish and lipstick, but also baseball, soccer, and video games. He told himself he hung out with her because he wanted to protect her from a couple of the boys in her neighborhood who bullied her. It never mattered to him that she came from a single-parent home with no money.
And as crazy as it sounded, he wanted to fill that place in her life again.
“Bree?”
“Jack.” She started running toward him as soon as she saw him.
“I’m so . . . so sorry.” He gathered her into his arms and pulled her tight against him. She buried her head in his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” She nodded. “He didn’t hurt me. I promise.”
“Did he say what he wanted?”
“Yes . . .” She took a step back. “He has a rendezvous scheduled with his handlers—both the Chinese and the Russian. He wants the FBI there.”
Jack shook his head, not understanding what she was saying. “What does that have to do with you?”
“I know this sounds crazy, but he told me Rachel was the one stealing intel. He said he’s been working to gather evidence that would take down both the Russian and Chinese spy rings.”
“Bree, you of all people know your father’s a charlatan.”
“But we also know Rachel’s not innocent in all of this. She’s Russian and connected to a known Russian operative.”
“Don’t tell me you believe him?”
Her gaze dropped. “Honestly, I don’t know . . . but at this point, he’s offering to hand both Cheng and his Russian handler to you on a silver platter. I don’t think we can just ignore it.”
“And what does he want in return?”
“I didn’t make him any promises.”
“Good, because I wouldn’t give him any. As far as the FBI is concerned, he’s guilty, Bree.”
“I know. He wants to be able to disappear without having to always watch his back.”
“Sounds rather convenient, if you ask me. Especially asking the FBI to do it for him.”
“What if he’s telling the truth?”
“You can’t be serious, Bree. I don’t know what he said to you, but last night he took a woman hostage and kidnapped you. He’s lying. There’s just too much evidence against him.”
“I know. But what if Rachel framed him, Jack? He was working for the government and had access to classified information. She was his wife. How hard would it be for her to steal that information? She was a Russian operative. We know that.” Bree looked up at him. “He gave me evidence.”
“What kind of evidence?”
She pulled a flash drive out of her pocket. “He told me to give this to you. According to him, it contains e
vidence that exonerates him. It also has details about the deal he wants to make with the FBI.”
“I’m supposed to make a deal with your father?”
He took her hand and laced their fingers together as they started back to the car. Surely, she didn’t believe him. There was no way in his mind that Charles Ramsey was innocent.
“I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay. If anything happened to you . . .”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Getting sentimental in your old age?”
“Very funny.”
“I’m kidding. What I should be saying is thank you. For coming to get me. For helping me through this. I know you don’t believe he could be innocent. Maybe I just want him to be.”
“Bree . . .”
“I didn’t think it would hurt this bad.” She stopped and looked up at him, her eyelashes wet. “I shouldn’t care what he says or does. I should be able to keep my emotions out of this, but I can’t help it. Maybe in some warped way I really do want to believe him. No matter how many times I tell myself I never should trust him, the fact remains that he is my father. And no matter how much I harden my heart against him . . . I’m always that little girl again, begging for his approval.”
“Everything you’re feeling is normal, Bree. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
She started walking again. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“What?”
“That you want me to walk away from all of this.”
“Would you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No. I can’t.”
“I know. Even though it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, I think I still know you pretty well. You’d never just walk away. No matter how personal it is.”
She shot him a smile. “I thought we’d end up in a big fight over this.”
“I just want you safe. To keep you safe.”
They approached his car, and he resisted the intense urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. To tell her that he hadn’t been able to shake the feelings he thought were long buried.
But there would be a time for that conversation later.