Hidden Agenda

by Kara Lennox

She would have to unlock the keyboard first, she realized. She needed to see the screen to unlock it. Oh, God, she was never getting out of here.

  Then the ringtone sounded again.

  Halleluiah, she could answer without unlocking. She pushed the appropriate button. “Daniel? Daniel is that you? I’m locked in a deep f-f-freezer…” Where was she? “I’m really c-c-cold, could you just get me out, please? If you’re talking I can’t hear you.” Her tongue felt thick, her words sounded like mush.

  “Oh, yeah, in case I die before you find me, Hamilton Payne did this and my sunglasses have it all on video. And tell Conner he’s a jerk. And I slashed his tires the night he graduated. And…and…and I love him and he missed out on a really good deal…” The phone slipped out of her hand. Her chest hurt.

  Damn it, she should have eaten breakfast this morning. She was starving. What did a few calories matter?

  One of the ice cream bars had rolled near her shoulder. She could see by the dim light of her phone that it was a frozen Snickers bar. Mmm, her favorite. By shrugging repeatedly, she got it close enough to her mouth that she could grab the wrapper with her teeth. It seemed vitally important that she eat the Snickers. Free calories, after all. They’d never show up on the bathroom scale; she’d be dead.

  She shook the bar like a terrier until it tore, and then she took a bite. At least she would die with a smile on her face.

  * * *

  “JILLIAN? JILLIAN!” CONNER screamed into the phone even as he ran toward the drying shed, where the walk-in refrigerator and that old chest freezer were located. Thank God he’d been here the other day or he would not know where to find her.

  “Jillian!” he shouted again at the phone. She’d sounded really strange, lethargic, not quite herself. But she was alive. When that bastard Hamilton Payne had fled the scene, Jillian was still alive, and that was a very good sign.

  But he’d done something to her. If Conner didn’t get to her in time, if he couldn’t save her life or if she suffered any harm because of Payne, he’d murder the man with his bare hands and gladly take his place on death row.

  When he reached the drying shed he flung open the door and sprinted across the concrete floor like a madman, still shouting Jillian’s name.

  “Hold on. Please just hold on, I’m almost there!”

  Lucas, who’d been showing some people the drying kiln, noted Conner’s crazed entrance. “Mr. Blake, is everything okay?”

  “Call the police. Call for an ambulance. Jillian’s injured.”

  Conner arrived at the door of the walk-in refrigerator. It was locked.

  “Lucas, the key, where’s the key?”

  “Hold on.” Lucas met him at the door, a phone in one hand, a wad of keys in the other. He rifled through the keys, trying to find the correct one. “Jillian said to keep it locked because she didn’t want any children wandering in since it’s not exactly childproof—”

  “Hurry up. Jillian’s locked inside.”

  “Dear God.” Finally Lucas found the right key.

  Conner opened the door and dashed inside. The freezer. It was locked, too. “How do I get it open without a key? Do you have an ax?”

  “I have a spare.” Lucas moved aside a jar of pickles and revealed a key hanging on a nail.

  Conner grabbed it and opened the freezer. The sight that greeted him nearly made him pass out. Jillian, looking like an ice princess, with…a half-eaten Snickers bar sticking out of her mouth.

  “Help me get her out.”

  Conner grabbed her shoulders and Lucas got her feet; between them they pulled her out of the freezer. Conner scooped her into his arms.

  “Is she alive?” Lucas asked fearfully.

  “I think so, but we have to get her warm.” He carried her out of the refrigerator. “Did you call the police?”

  “Right, right, getting to that. Take her over near the kiln, it’s the warmest place in the building.”

  She was so light, it was no strain at all to carry her. “Jillian, wake up. Please.”

  This was all his fault. Why hadn’t he believed her? If he’d just listened to her instead of assuming he knew best…

  It was warmer near the kiln, which Lucas had recently opened. Conner laid Jillian gently on the ground, ready to perform CPR. But that turned out not to be necessary; her eyes fluttered open as she suddenly gasped for air.

  Conner chafed her arms until someone located an old horse blanket and laid it over her. “You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart.” Please, God, let her be okay.

  Why had he been so stupid as to ask Ham about those invoices? He should have at least done some checking first before he alerted a murderer that they were on to him. He might as well have put a gun in the old man’s hands and told him it was open season on cute, blonde administrative assistants. If anything happened to Jillian—

  “Conner?”

  “Oh, thank God. You’re okay. Just breathe for a few minutes and try to get warm.”

  “Conner, Hamilton Payne tried to kill me. You have to believe me—”

  “I do believe you. I know it was him. I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you at first.”

  “He had a gun. He’s going to flee the country. We have to stop him!” She actually tried to sit up, as if she was going to go after Payne herself. She probably would, too, if no one stopped her. She was that brave and that determined.

  She was magnificent.

  “The police will catch him,” Conner said soothingly, hoping that was true. Payne had a head start, but Daniel had pull. He could alert Homeland Security and they would stop Hamilton and Beatrice at the airport.

  Jillian blinked up at him. “You believe me?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want to. I’ve known Hamilton since I was in college, counted him among my friends. But I should have trusted you. You wouldn’t accuse someone without a good reason. How did you find blood in his car?”

  “Shh. I don’t want to get Celeste in trouble.”

  “Whatever you say. You’re the investigator. You call the shots. Can you sit up?” She looked uncomfortable, lying on the hard concrete.

  “I think so.” He helped her to a seated position, then sat behind her and let her lean against him. He put his arms around her, sharing his body heat.

  She licked her lips. “Why do I have chocolate in my mouth?”

  “You were eating a frozen Snickers bar when you passed out. There must be an easier way to sneak a snack.”

  “I don’t even remember doing that. I remember trying to answer the phone… Oh, all the ice cream is melting! We should pass it around before it’s all a liquid mess…”

  “That ice cream just became evidence.”

  “Conner, did anyone else see Payne going into the refrigerator? Or leaving? What if no one believes me?”

  “Everyone will believe you. Daniel believes you. He called me to tell me Payne is a murderer. Those files you sent him—apparently he checked them over and saw the same thing you did.”

  “Okay. Okay. If Daniel knows, he’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “You really do think a lot of him.” Conner couldn’t help it. He was jealous of the billionaire, happily married or not. “And why wouldn’t you? He put his reputation on the line for you. He’s got your back.”

  “I admire Daniel. I know him very well. And I once thought I was in love with him. But I was in love with an idea, not with a real man. A real man isn’t perfect.”

  “Clearly I’m not. Jillian, I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

  Her eyes filled with a heartbreaking sadness. “You really hurt my feelings. So did Daniel, come to think of it. He had to see the proof with his own eyes.”

  “We were both wrong. I can’t speak for Daniel, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

  “The rest of your life? That’s pretty extreme.”

  “You could have died! And it would have been my fault.”

  * * *

  JILLIAN WAS REALLY, REALLY tired all the
sudden; almost dying could do that to a girl. The police arrived, but Conner took charge of the situation like an army general. He forbade the officers from talking to Jillian until the paramedics had checked her over.

  From what Jillian knew of the police—mostly what she heard from Celeste and her other Project Justice colleagues—officers didn’t take too kindly to being ordered around by civilians. But Conner was so fierce in his protection of her, the cops didn’t seem inclined to cross him.

  She knew she should be the one taking charge. She was the one who knew what was going on—that Hamilton Payne was a murderer, that he’d killed two men and why, that he’d almost killed her. But her brain wasn’t running on all cylinders. Maybe her thinking was sluggish from the cold, or maybe the lack of oxygen had damaged her brain.

  But she was content to sit in the back of the ambulance with a blanket around her, answering the paramedics’ questions and letting them check her over for injuries.

  If she got off with only a few scrapes and bruises from toppling into the freezer, she would be thankful.

  The paramedics left her in peace for a while. She could see Conner a few feet away, talking with the police, the phone to his ear simultaneously talking to Daniel.

  Her heart swelled. No matter how deeply Conner had wounded her, she couldn’t help herself from loving him. He was certainly showing concern for her now. Over-the-top concern.

  A guilty conscience?

  She let herself dwell on his adamant declaration that he would make it up to her for the rest of his life. It was a nice thought, but of course he didn’t mean it. It was the sort of thing people said when they felt really, really bad about being really, really wrong.

  Conner would have to do more than go all “white knight” on her before she could forgive him for his lack of faith.

  The detective, Hudson Vale, arrived, and Jillian watched almost impassively as he talked first to the patrol officers, then Conner. He and Conner seemed to be having heated words. They were both posturing, puffing their chests out.

  Jillian smiled. It seemed odd that she could smile when she’d been so recently almost dead, but she did.

  Finally it seemed as if Conner backed down. Detective Vale turned and headed for the ambulance; the paramedics joined him, no doubt filling him in on her condition.

  “We meet again,” he said. “I’m just glad it’s not going to be a one-sided conversation.”

  “Hello, Detective Vale.”

  “You feel like talking? Your boyfriend warned me I better not overtax you.”

  “My boyfriend?”

  “Conner. He’s guarding you like he’s a Rottweiler and you’re a particularly juicy bone.”

  She laughed at that description. “Not my boyfriend.”

  “Huh.” Vale took out his notebook. “So what happened here?”

  Jillian started out telling him calmly about her encounter with Payne in the refrigerator. But the further she got into the story, the more agitated she became. It felt as though her brain was coming back to life.

  “Wait, here, it’s all here.” She reached atop her head for her sunglasses, but they weren’t there. “What happened to my sunglasses?”

  “Is that important?”

  “There’s a video camera in them. I got everything on video.”

  Vale nodded. “Oookay.”

  “Please believe me. I’m not crazy. You can’t let Payne leave the country. He’s a murderer and an international ecological…bad person.”

  Vale suppressed a smile. “Is that the technical term?”

  “Well, I don’t know what you call it. He stole trees, he raped some forestland and he sold the lumber on the black market. That makes him a pretty bad dude.”

  “That’s a little outside my jurisdiction,” Vale said, all serious. “But I can get him for the attempted murder for starters. The rest will come out. He’ll pay.”

  “You believe me?”

  He seemed to be holding something back. Finally he let loose with a shit-eating grin. “Hamilton Payne was stopped for speeding about ten miles from here. He would have simply gotten a ticket and been on his way, but the highway patrol officer who pulled him over thought he was acting very strangely—agitated, nervous. His wife started crying. Then the officer spotted a gun sitting in plain sight on the backseat.

  “That was reason enough to search the car. They found a suitcase full of cash in several foreign currencies and a printout from Expedia describing plane reservations for two to the Cayman Islands.”

  Jillian sagged with relief. “Then you have him.”

  Conner had come up behind Vale. “I just talked to Daniel. He confirms Ham is in the custody of the Texas Rangers, and he’s personally making sure they understand the magnitude of his crimes. I don’t think you have to worry about him coming after you.”

  She hadn’t even considered that.

  Conner handed her a large cup of steaming coffee. “With half-and-half, no sugar, just the way you like it.”

  “This is quite a switch.” She accepted his gift, surprised that he even knew how she took her coffee.

  “I have a feeling you won’t be bringing me coffee anymore. And I’ll be looking for a new assistant.”

  That thought made her a little sad. She’d enjoyed some parts of working for Conner. But her heart was with Project Justice now. She’d had a taste of what it felt like to solve a mystery, and she wanted to do more of it.

  If Daniel would have her. Yeah, Stan would go free and the bad guy would pay, but she’d made more than a few disastrous decisions along the way.

  One of them was standing right in front of her.

  Vale took a step back. “You sure he’s not your boyfriend?”

  “I’m not sure of anything except this coffee tastes really good.”

  “When you have a brush with death,” Vale said, “for a while your senses might be more acute. Colors brighter, sounds louder, food tastes great.”

  “Maybe, but I never want to see another frozen Snickers as long as I live.”

  The paramedics were packing up. “We’ll take you to the hospital if you want to go,” one of them said. “But you’re gonna be fine. You might want to follow up with your regular doctor.”

  “No hospitals.” She gave a delicate shiver.

  “I’ll take care of her,” Conner said, helping her out of the ambulance.

  “Listen to you, all Sir Galahad all the sudden.”

  “You think I’m kidding?”

  Vale told them they were free to go. That was when Jillian remembered that there was a company picnic going on. “The picnic—”

  “The picnic will run itself without you. Everyone’s having a blast. How often do people get to attend a party where there’s an attempted murder?”

  She raised her hand. “This is my second. The first was Daniel’s Christmas party last year.”

  “So maybe you should stay away from parties.”

  “My purse, my phone—”

  “Part of the crime scene,” Vale cut in. “Take Mr. Blake’s advice. Go home. Rest. Job well-done.”

  “Was it?”

  “Jillian. Honey.” Conner put his arm around her, and she let him. “You figured it out before anyone else. Yes, job well-done.”

  She gave in. She let Conner drive her home. He walked her to the front entrance, where the doorman called the on-site manager to let her into her apartment, since her keys were in her purse. He rode up in the elevator, saw her to the front door, and invited himself in.

  “You can go home now, Conner,” she argued. “I’m fine.”

  “I know you’re fine. You’re more than fine. You’re exceptional. I don’t want to leave. I just want to bask in your exceptionalness.”

  “Conner!” She giggled nervously.

  “You think I was kidding when I said I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  “Uh, you didn’t say it quite like that…I mean, it was the heat of the moment. People are prone to hyperbole i
n times of high stress.”

  “I meant every word. You. Me. Eternity.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I know I screwed up. I misjudged you, I underestimated you and I hurt your feelings. But don’t kick me out of your life. Give me a chance to prove myself. I’m not the same self-centered jerk you knew in high school, any more than you’re the same naive, infatuated girl.”

  “And fat, with a big nose, don’t leave that out.”

  “I didn’t say that. I would never say that.”

  “What are you trying to say here, Conner? My frozen brain can’t figure it out.”

  “I’m trying to say I want to get past all the stupid stuff and go forward.”

  “Forward to…”

  “I love you. That simple enough for you?”

  Jillian was so stunned, she couldn’t speak. In fact, she staggered to the living room and fell into the first chair she saw.

  “Jillian?”

  She always imagined that if Conner ever said those words to her, she would shriek for joy. But she never truly believed it would happen. Now that it had, she was terrified to respond. What if she messed it up?

  “Jillian. Say something.”

  “When you said ‘eternity,’ did you mean, like—”

  “Marriage. A house. Kids, dogs. Or cats, maybe you like cats better.”

  “Two cats in the yard?”

  “Or inside. Would you prefer fish? Less care. But I’m not compromising on the kid. We have to have at least one.”

  Jillian moved to the sofa and crooked her finger at Conner. He sat down obediently and looked at her expectantly.

  “Conner Blake, this better not be a joke. Because if it is, I’ll kill you. Don’t think I can’t do it. Celeste has shown me seven ways to kill with my bare hands.”

  “It’s no joke. I love you. Please say you’ll give me another chance.”

  She sighed. “I love a man who begs.” She put her arms around his neck. “What about your job?”

  “What about it? I’ll survive at the office without you, though it won’t be pretty.”

  “No, I mean, you’re planning to go back to being a timber buyer, right?”

  “I was, but…how did you know that?”

  “I know about your reservations to Jakarta. I was totally snooping all over your computer, you understand. How do you plan to make things up to me if you’re jetting all over the world doing your responsible harvesting thing? I totally support you wanting to do that, you love your trees and I’m sure they love you. It’s just—”