Exposed in Darkness

by Heather Sunseri

  I lifted my eyes. “You never told me. Why did you change your schedule last night? You arrived early.”

  “It was just a last-minute schedule change. Nothing more. Why?”

  I shook my head again. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’ve just got so many little details running around in my head.” I tried to laugh it off. “I could use some sleep.”

  I no longer doubted my gut. There were too many coincidences, and they all pointed to Truman. He’d had the motive, the means, and the opportunity—not only to kill Melissa Centers, but, with the Garrison’s help, to pull off a mass killing at two separate events.

  My instinct to take Truman in for formal questioning was strong, and Truman must have sensed it, because he turned back toward the windows overlooking the track.

  “Truman,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “Whatever you’re involved in… I can help.”

  Instead of answering me, he crossed an arm and cupped his chin while he stared out onto the track. “You did such a good job catching those three idiots that poisoned Melissa. And you stopped another mass attack from happening last night.” He spun around and faced me, and as he did, he pulled a handgun—a Sig P238—from inside his jacket. “But you just couldn’t stop analyzing, could you?”

  I took a step back, lifting my arms to the sides. “Truman, don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I don’t know how you figured it out—the fog machines. It was a brilliant idea.” He shook his head. “Such a shame.”

  I let my arms drift back toward my body; my fingers lingered close to my own weapon. Truman was backed into a corner, and he knew it. All I could do now was keep him talking until someone found us. Or until I figured out a way out of this.

  “Why did you steal Declan’s tacin?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer. He just stared at me with a look so cold I nearly shivered.

  “You wanted to pin the murders on him,” I said. “His poison. His bourbon. You successfully placed him on the FBI’s radar. You wanted to destroy him. Why?”

  “Because he destroyed my state!” I flinched when he waved the gun around. “He and his damned money. The party was never going to let me be the leader I was supposed to be. It always comes back to corporate greed.”

  “So you made sure Declan’s name made it into Teddy’s files?”

  “You give me way too much credit. That part was just dumb luck. Teddy was talking to me about some deadly chemicals criminals were selling on the black market, and I told him he needed to talk with Declan. As far as I know, Teddy was killed before he got a chance.”

  “So when the FBI started looking at Declan after Centers was killed?”

  “I may have planted the idea of selling Declan’s tacin in Sasha’s head. Declan had told me she was desperate for money so she could continue to live in New York. I thought: Why not? Let his own sister make him look even more guilty—and greedy.” He let out a frustrated laugh. “Of course, those stupid siblings of Declan’s couldn’t get anything right. I set up the perfect transaction, but they got scared. Then when the deal was put back in place, you happened.”

  “Why, though? Why murder?” Instead of staring at the gun, which was now shaking slightly in Truman’s hand, I looked at the crazed look in his eyes, and I no longer recognized the person there. No longer did he resemble his brother, the extraordinary man I had loved.

  “Isn’t that how our country operates?” he said. “We don’t like how things are going, so we send a strong message. Play to people’s fears. I now have the legislature listening to me regarding the Economic Development Act. Many have reconsidered their positions and will support my veto. They’re also ready to give me back my Office of Homeland Security. I have them listening, Brooke. Listening to how I want to run the state of Kentucky.”

  I wanted to tell him that no, that’s not how our country works. That we—that I—operate on justice. But instead I asked more questions. “Where’s the missing tacin?” Had it already been placed somewhere here at the Derby? Were people dying right now, and I didn’t even know it?

  His brows angled inward. “What are you talking about? The FBI confiscated it all from those three idiots.”

  “No, some of it was missing.”

  “Well, I have no idea. My money would be on Danny. I never asked that asshole to kill José and Marti. He was careless and stupid.”

  For some reason, I believed him on that account. José and Marti must have gotten too close to the truth.

  “So what now?” I asked, nodding toward his Sig. I continued to finger the edge of my Glock. “You want to shoot me?”

  “I wanted you to join my team. Run my Office of Homeland Security. It didn’t have to turn out this way.” He seemed to relax the hold on his gun slightly. “But I see this going a couple of different ways. I shoot you, leave you here. There’s enough noise out there that no one will hear it. Then I can go on to shoot Declan and whoever else I decide to take down before law enforcement takes me out.”

  “I’m not going to let that happen,” I said calmly. “What other ideas do you have?”

  “We go out there, I’ll award the trophies, and you let me walk out of here.”

  “You know I’m not going to let you walk.”

  “Yes, but you’re going to give me a head start. That’s all I need. Or I start killing. Your choice.”

  “Fine.”

  His brows shot up in surprise. “Now, hand me your phone. I can’t have you alerting anyone.”

  I pulled my phone from my pocket and handed it over. As I did, I noticed there were ten missed calls from Declan, and it was buzzing again.

  “He knows something is wrong,” I said. “You don’t think he’ll start putting things together?”

  “Answer it. Tell him we got delayed. That we’re on our way.”

  I took the phone. “Hi. I’m with Truman. We’re on our way.”

  “Everything okay?”

  I looked at Truman, down at the gun. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. Be there in five. Can’t start without the governor, after all.” I tried to let a smile seep into my voice.

  I hung up and handed the phone to Truman.

  “Very good. Now let’s go.” He waved with his gun for me to lead, then holstered it before I opened the door. “Just remember,” he said softly as my hand reached for the door, “you make one wrong move, I start shooting.”

  The governor’s state police detail was waiting. They created a path for us that led straight to the balcony where the trophy and check presentation would take place. A small group had already gathered there, including Declan, Aidan, his date, and the jockey. Declan had even invited my dad down for the ceremony.

  Truman moved through the group to take his place beside the trophies. I joined Declan.

  He put his arm around me. “What happened to you two? You okay?”

  Truman stared at me, a warning in his gaze. His gun bulged against his jacket.

  I smiled up at Declan. “I’m fine.”

  Declan’s brows knitted together.

  Carlos and Mike stepped out onto the balcony and looked to me. Mike gave me a little shrug and shake of the head, letting me know they’d gotten nothing out of Jenna, Ben, or Danny. I remained stoic, trying to smile, pretending that everything was normal.

  Truman began to speak. He awarded the trophies and the checks to the big winners. When the ceremony was complete, he stepped away from the podium and joined Declan and me just as a server walked out carrying celebratory drinks—summer juleps for all.

  Truman and I were the last two to receive drinks. A server handed me one first, and then Truman.

  “Thank you, young man,” Truman said as he took the drink. He was carrying on, business as usual. It was a celebration. But every time he aimed his eyes in my direction, there was promise in them. A promise to hurt everyone on this balcony.

  The server gave a small bow. “My pleasure, Governor Spencer.”

  The server’s voice sent a chill down my spine, but I didn’t h
ave time to react before Truman lifted his glass. “To the winners of the 147th running of the Bluegrass Derby.”

  “To On Liam’s Watch,” Aidan announced.

  Everyone lifted their glasses.

  “Cheers,” Truman said, clinking glasses with Declan.

  “Cheers,” Declan repeated. He clicked glasses with Truman, then me.

  I clicked glasses with Truman, then watched him as we each turned up our glasses.

  I took only a small swallow; I was already feeling nauseated at the thought of how I was going to keep the people here safe—and how I was going to prove that Truman Spencer was the cold-blooded killer that I now knew he was.

  A motion to my left caught my eye. It was the server. He was holding his empty tray under his arm, and a visor covered his forehead, shielding his eyes and face. I didn’t recognize him, but he was staring at me in a familiar way, and when he lifted his hand and saluted me, I saw the tattoo on his wrist.

  Crossing sabers.

  The tattoo went in and out of focus. I tried to memorize the man’s face, but it, too, went fuzzy.

  I swayed slightly.

  “Brooke,” Declan said, and wrapped an arm around my waist.

  Before I could even think to respond, people all around us began screaming. The governor had fallen to the ground, where he was now convulsing. His police detail rushed to his side and began performing CPR.

  “Brooke!” Declan yelled.

  I continue to sway on my feet; my eyes rolled back into my head briefly. I saw my dad across the way, making his way toward me. Mike and Carlos were beside me in seconds. Declan’s arm tightened around me just as my legs gave out.

  He lowered me to the ground, screaming for someone to get an ambulance.

  I reached up and pulled Mike to me. “It was the governor. He killed those people.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” He glanced back at the governor, but I knew Truman was dead.

  I grabbed Mike’s jacket again. “Romeo. He’s here. He knew.”

  “Brooke,” Declan said with urgency in his voice. “Help is coming. Stay with me.”

  My eyes fluttered. I tried to focus on him. “I’m sorry,” I managed before I slipped away.

  Chapter 41

  I woke in a dark room. I moved my head and saw white walls. A machine beeped to my right. A figure was slumped in a chair to my left. “What happened?” I managed, but my voice was hoarse. My throat ached.

  Declan stirred. “Hey. Welcome back.” He stood and immediately scooped up my hand. “You’re in the hospital.”

  That much I had figured out. “Truman?” I asked.

  Declan gave his head a shake. “He didn’t make it. And apparently as soon as Jenna heard about it, she spilled all the details about how Truman fed them information for their little group.”

  “With Truman dead, he could no longer get her out of trouble, I suppose.” I stared up at the ceiling, resting my braced arm across my forehead. “Did they find Romeo?”

  “No. Mike suspects Romeo drugged you just so he could slip away. Nothing lethal.”

  “Why does my throat ache?”

  “They had to pump your stomach.”

  “And you let them?” I clawed at my throat. “Dammit.”

  “Since doctors couldn’t be sure what you’d ingested, they didn’t take any chances.” He pulled a chair over and sat. He leaned his forehead against my hand. “I was so scared. All I could think was that this incredible woman had just entered my life, and just like that, she’d been taken away from me.”

  I wiggled my hand from his grasp and touched his face. “I’m sorry.”

  He lifted his head. “What are you sorry for?”

  Tears threatened to blur my vision, but I blinked them away. “I don’t know. My life is a mess.”

  “I’m okay with messes. We can clean it up together.”

  I smiled. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

  He stood, leaned down, and placed a kiss on my lips. Backing away only inches, he whispered, “I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. We’re going to see this through.”

  “See it through,” I repeated, trying it on for size. “When can I go ho—” I stopped myself, realizing my home was in Virginia. “When can I leave here?”

  “I’ll get the doctors.” He placed a kiss on my forehead and exited the room.

  Seconds later, the door opened, and in walked Dad, followed by Mike.

  “You were never one for dramatics,” Dad said. “But that was quite the ending to my first ever live viewing of the Bluegrass Derby.”

  I tried to smile. “Truman told me he passed Declan’s name to Teddy. Simply as a resource to talk about the different chemicals we had been investigating.”

  Mike sat in the chair that Declan had vacated. “That makes sense.”

  “I asked Declan and the doctors to give us a minute,” Dad said. He pulled over a chair from the corner. “What I’m about to tell the two of you is sensitive information that very few know.”

  I glanced at Mike, then back to Dad.

  “As you both know, the night Teddy was killed, he was on a stakeout. He’d been tracking an international ring of terrorists attempting to stockpile some of the worst chemical weapons known to man.”

  “I remember. Romeo had fed me the information about the location. I was supposed to back up Teddy.”

  Mike bowed his head and stared at his intertwined fingers.

  “That’s right.” Dad clasped his hands in front of him. “But there’s something neither you nor Teddy knew at the time, although I think Romeo discovered it at the last minute: this terrorist ring was also the target of an ongoing investigation by the CIA’s Weapons of Mass Destruction Task Force. They had several undercover agents working inside the ring, in an effort to take it down.”

  I threw my head back against the pillows. “I should have been there.” I squeezed my eyes tight.

  Mike got up and placed a hand on my shoulder. “What happened?” he asked Dad.

  “Teddy was spotted. There are conflicting reports from the night, but one thing is made clear: Teddy was killed by CIA. Executed. Two gunshot wounds at close range, one to the head and one to the heart.”

  I tried to suck in a breath and couldn’t. I fisted my left hand over my heart.

  “Brooke!” Dad sounded like he was talking through a tunnel. “Breathe, dammit.” He framed my face and stared into my eyes. “You can handle this,” he insisted.

  Finally, I sucked in a breath and pressed my head into the pillow. Tears streamed from my eyes, down my temples, and into my hair.

  “What happened to this agent?” Mike asked. “Was he charged?”

  Dad didn’t answer—leaving Mike and me to form our own opinions, and verifying that the CIA wasn’t talking. They were protecting their own.

  “The reason I’m sharing this information with you now is because I’ve watched you both on this case. You work well together. But you’re both angry about an incident neither of you could have stopped.”

  “I should have been there,” I said again. My voice cracked.

  “And you, too, would have been killed,” Dad said plainly. “Besides, there’s another part to this story.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “Can you handle this now?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I’m fine.” I was anything but.

  “What I’m about to say is for your ears only, unless—”

  A confused look passed over Mike’s features. He looked from the director to me.

  “It’s fine,” I told my dad. “He deserves to know.”

  “What?” Mike asked.

  I took a deep breath. “The night Teddy was killed,” I said, “I was supposed to meet him at the stakeout spot, as you know. I was on my way when my life took a different turn.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mike demanded.

  I looked down at my hands. “I was pregnant.”

 
Mike straightened, but said nothing.

  “I lost the baby that night.”

  Dad got up from his chair and sat on the edge of my hospital bed. “Brooke… you were drugged.”

  “What?” I angled my head at him.

  “I received an alert that you’d been admitted to the hospital that night, and that you had suffered a miscarriage. I asked the doctors to check your blood for anything out of the ordinary. Tests revealed that you had ingested a drug called misoprostol.”

  I stared at him. “Who would have done that?” But I knew. “Romeo.”

  “He knew you would be killed right alongside Teddy,” Mike said. “He saved your life.”

  I stared at Mike. “He saved my life? He murdered my baby!” I couldn’t—wouldn’t—suppress the harsh tone in my voice.

  Romeo had murdered my child. He had kept me from being with my husband when Teddy needed me the most.

  And he would answer for that crime.

  I would make sure of it.

  That night, Declan set a bowl of soup in front of me on a table by his swimming pool.

  I squinted up at him. “You like to feed me.” I attempted to smile, but it fell flat. I was unbelievably nervous.

  “I like to take care of you, when you let me.” He sat in the chair beside me and stared beyond his swimming pool to the fields beyond. “God, I love it here.”

  I followed his gaze. Though it was dark, I could just see the outline of the plank fencing. “It is beautiful here. I could get used to Kentucky.”

  He was silent beside me for several beats. “What are you saying?”

  I turned back to him. “I’m saying I might give Kentucky a try. The director—”

  “You mean your father.”

  “Yes. Dad has agreed to transfer me to the Lexington field office on a trial basis. We both decided I needed a change of scenery.”

  When Declan didn’t say anything, I suddenly realized what he must’ve been thinking. “Wait. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not expecting anything from you. I just—” I swallowed. “Whatever this is between us is new, and I’m agreeing to see it through. I’m just letting you know that I’m going to be around, just in case—”