He had no right to think about her like this. Not anymore.
“Thank you for saving my life,” the senator said.
“You’re welcome.” Just doing his job. Evan glanced at his shoulder and frowned. If the podium hadn’t been there, he would have taken a severe hit. He slid his gaze to Jody again, this time observing her manner. Cool as a cucumber. On the outside. But her flicking at her middle fingernail gave away her anxiety, and she kept casting small glances to his shoulder. Was she concerned for him? If so, had she forgiven him for his greatest mistake?
Doubtful. If she had, she would have responded to the letter he’d written her, or called him, emailed, texted. But it had been radio silence for three years. Evan had been in a dark place long before that. The pressure of the job and all the pressures of his past he’d never dealt with had sent him spiraling into the same coping mechanism of the one person he promised himself he’d never be.
His father.
Now that he’d become a man of faith, he didn’t need alcohol to help him cope or to give him the strength for another day. God was Evan’s strength, but it didn’t change the truth that deep down the apple didn’t fall from the tree.
He wanted Jody’s forgiveness desperately, but he wouldn’t allow himself to dare ask for a second chance. He’d ruined the one great thing in his life, and he wouldn’t risk hurting her again. History told him he probably would. How many times had Dad said he was sorry for hurting one of them or drinking again or any number of painful things only to turn around after a while and repeat it, ripping Mom up emotionally like a rag toy?
Evan refused to inflict that kind of pain on Jody—for the second time.
“Have you received any threatening letters, Senator?” Jody asked as the SUV drove them to CCM.
“I get them every now and again. Mostly smoke blowing.” The senator pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I need to call my wife. By now this is all over the news.”
Strange his wife wasn’t here today. “Where is she?”
“Our son was in a car accident three days ago. He’s in the hospital. She didn’t want to leave him.” Remorse surfaced in his eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have, either.”
Evan’s place wasn’t to judge or advise, so he remained quiet. They made their way down the long drive fringed with ancient oaks dripping with grayish Spanish moss until the looming historic plantation home came into view. Something straight out of Gone with the Wind. The columned porch made a perfect square around the entire home. Tall French windows lined the front—four on the top and bottom—shuttered in black. In the summer, Evan could imagine swinging them open to let in a summer breeze. Jody would enjoy the smell of lilac. It was her favorite...or it used to be.
Several white rockers decorated the top and bottom porches.
Two more black SUVs parked in the circular drive. Wilder Flynn bounded out and stomped inside.
“That’s never a good sign,” Jody mumbled and climbed out, but hesitated and then turned toward Evan. “You need to see about that wound, Evan.”
Evan.
He’d missed the sound of his name on her tongue. He choked back the emotion, the regret, the loss of a future with her. “I’ll be sure to do that.”
The inside of the plantation home was as impressive as the outside. A magnificent split staircase garnered immediate attention as the focal point while the parlor to the right invited guests to its sleek dining table. Gray couches were placed against each wall, and the fireplace at the end of the room roared and crackled. Perfect for this January weather. Above the mantel hung a painting of a startlingly lovely woman who shared Wilder’s green eyes, black hair and squared chin. The engraved plaque underneath read: In memory of Meghan Flynn. Ah, his sister who’d been murdered several years prior.
Wilder directed everyone inside the dining/conference room but laid a hand on Evan’s uninjured shoulder. “Hey, Cosette will fix you up. Guest bathroom with a first-aid kit is down the hall on the left of the foyer.”
He hadn’t offered Jody’s services to patch his graze. Evan understood Wilder’s need to look after his own—his kin. “Thanks.” He followed the dark-haired woman with ruby-red lips to the bathroom and let her clean his wound regardless of the awkward tension. Who knew what Jody had told her? Probably everything. Cosette finished up and tossed her latex gloves in the trash can.
“All done, Agent Novak.”
“Evan.”
“Agent Novak it is.” Her tone was made of steel and heat. “She’s my best friend.”
Fair enough. He excused himself to the dining/conference room. Coffee had been served and the senator sipped a cup and answered the same questions Evan and Jody had asked in the SUV. Afterward, Cosette discreetly offered Senator Townes and Mr. Wiseman guest rooms, where they could rest and call family while the agents with Evan and the CCM team, except one who was missing, stayed in the parlor.
“I don’t understand,” Wilder said. “That place was surrounded. How did someone get into the convention center with a rifle and not get dinged in Security?”
Beckett took a cup of coffee from a redhead and winked. “Professional. The senator’s website has a calendar of events six months in advance. He probably hid the weapon weeks ago. Walked right in today and bypassed the extra security.”
They continued to speculate and discuss the events over lunch, and then the missing team member—Shepherd Lightman—made his presence known, a scowl on his face. He motioned Wilder out of the room and a few minutes later they returned, both wearing grim expressions. “Could we speak privately with our team and Agent Novak?”
Evan nodded and the other Secret Service agents slipped from the room. Wilder closed the pocket doors. “Go ahead, Shepherd. Tell him.”
“Tell me what?” Evan’s pulse kicked up a notch.
Shepherd folded his arms across his chest. “I did some investigating of my own. Based on the trajectory path of the bullets, the shots fired—three in all—came from a vent in the nosebleed section on the south end. Which means someone had access to the blueprints of the building or access to someone who had them. He managed to get by Security—possibly disguised as a maintenance worker or something—and he made his way into the ductwork and to the vent where he more than likely had stashed his rifle in preparation.”
Evan frowned. “Why can’t my colleagues hear this?”
Shepherd’s jaw ticked. “Because I don’t believe the senator was the target. The first shot fired caused the crowd to panic and struck low as if he missed the senator. But no one this organized and well hidden—and able to exit the scene without being detected or arrested—is going to be a bad shot.”
What did this mean? “You think the first shot was to purposely cause a panic and create chaos?”
Shepherd nodded. “And to throw off law enforcement, which it has.”
“But not you?” Evan asked.
“No.”
Wilder stepped up. “Shepherd happens to be one of the top three snipers in the world. And he has an uncanny ability to observe things most people don’t.”
“I’m not questioning anyone’s ability.” Evan didn’t doubt Wilder’s team. “I just want to understand all the facts.”
“The facts are,” Shepherd continued, “the second shot grazed your shoulder when you dived. A moving target isn’t easy...for some.”
Wait...moving target? “The third shot came when we were bolting from the stage.” His neck turned hot.
“Right. But you were shielded by other agents, so it wasn’t easy and the shooter had to know he was pushing his limits and needed to jet.”
Evan massaged the back of his neck. “Are you saying that I was the target?”
Shepherd glanced at Wilder and back to Evan. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But the shooter wanted it to appear that the target was Senator Townes. The question is why?”
Why, indeed? Evan paced near the fireplace, though his whole body was already inflamed. “Well, it’s not like I don’t have a fair share of enemies.”
A younger man entered the room. Tall. Lanky but not out of shape. Unruly copper hair and black-framed retro glasses. “I got what you asked for.” He handed a stack of papers to Wilder and looked at Evan and grinned. “Nice work.”
What was he talking about? Today? Today was not nice work.
Wilder whistled. “You’ve been a busy man, Agent Novak.” He glanced at the guy in glasses. “Nice job, Wheezer. Wheezer is our computer analyst. Meet Agent Evan Novak...a cyber genius in his own right.”
“Yeah, he is.” Wheezer shook Evan’s hand. “I’ve been reading through some of your cases. You’re infamous underground.”
Yes, Evan was well aware, and this guy going on and on both embarrassed him and sent a surge of pride through him. Evan had always been good with technology and it had come in handy when taking down identity theft and fraud rings online. Over a dozen cracked cases to date. If he was successful with the newest cyber mission he’d been tasked to lead, he was a shoo-in for the promotion to Assistant Director of the Office of Protective Operations. He’d worked tirelessly to climb the ranks. To validate he was an honorable and worthy man. Everything Dad never was.
Guilt stabbed his chest.
Jody had been on her way up, too.
Until he’d shot her down.
She stood silent in the corner of the room, face unreadable.
“I guess we need to decide who might want you dead most,” Wilder said.
“A random criminal with a vendetta would want credit for taking you out,” Jody said. “He wouldn’t hide it. And while the rally was advertised on the senator’s website, nothing advertised that you’d be on the protection detail. So if the hit was directed at you, then someone knew exactly where you’d be today.”
“You think it was someone on the inside? In my office? Why?” Anyone in the Macon field office would know he was at the rally, plus the few agents that were on the online task force he’d been leading. But Evan couldn’t imagine any one of them wanting him dead.
“I don’t know, but we need to figure it out,” Jody said.
The only person he could fathom on the right side of the law who might want to take a shot at him was Jody herself and she had left her post. Why? “Hey, where did you go? When you left the stage?”
Jody’s eyes narrowed. “Why?” The accusatory glare drilled into him. “You think I shot you? If I were going to shoot you, I’d do it at close range so you’d know exactly who it was coming from.”
Evan swallowed hard. Okay, maybe she hadn’t forgiven him if she’d imagined how she’d kill him. “I know you aren’t the shooter. I just want to know why you left your post.”
“You abandoned Mr. Wiseman?” Wilder asked.
“I didn’t abandon anyone.” Jody’s tone was low and cool. “I was following your orders. I thought you wanted to keep the situation with protesters outside contained to CCM. But you weren’t out there. I came back inside when the first shot rang out and hauled it back onstage.”
Wilder frowned. “Jode, I never gave you any orders.”
Jody snatched her phone from her blazer pocket. “Yeah. Ya did.” She tapped her screen and shook her head. Her jaw dropped. “Wilder, you did. I promise...but...it’s not here. All your other texts are, but not the one that told me to get outside to the east entrance.”
“Because I didn’t text you.” He scrolled through his phone and held it up. “Nothing.”
“Can I?” Evan reached for her phone and swiped through her apps. Nothing suspicious or visible to the naked eye. Jody wasn’t a liar. If she said Wilder texted her, then what she saw was a text from Wilder. Or who she thought was Wilder.
He glanced at Wheezer, and the other man nodded and looked at Jody. “Sounds like someone hacked your phone.”
Jody’s face paled. “Why? Why not text Evan to abandon his post and take a shot at him outside? What’s the point of getting me off the stage? Wiseman wasn’t the target.”
Evan wasn’t sure. There wasn’t a good reason other than it was causing turmoil and confusion right now. The insistence in her tone as she’d declared her innocence to Wilder about abandoning her station must have brought up what happened three years ago. Of course, it was never off Evan’s mind. He’d wanted to go to bat for Jody. He’d told her he’d have her back, come clean that it was his fault. In the end, he’d been a coward. His weak justifications—no, excuses—had kept him from revealing the truth. If he’d lost his position with the Secret Service, he’d have nothing left. He’d have ended up like Dad.
Why would someone want to hurt or take an emotional stab at Jody? Why would someone want to kill Evan—someone with intimate knowledge of his whereabouts and maybe even his past with Jody? But no one knew that! She’d taken her dismissal and walked away without looking back. Without throwing Evan under the bus. He’d never known why. But he wanted to. Why protect him when he hadn’t protected her?
He would protect her now. She’d been tossed into this whole fiasco. He’d make sure she got out. As far as knowing why they hadn’t texted him? “I don’t know,” he said.
Wilder huffed. “What are you working on now? Could it be linked to the attack today?”
Evan’s eye twitched. “Actually, I’m leading a relatively new cyber task force, but I trust every agent on the team.” There was no way one of them would betray him and there was no reason any of them should.
Standing, Wilder folded his arms across his chest. “You need to tell us about this new task force, and every agent working on it. We’ll need a list of people who knew you’d be at the convention center today. Colleagues, friends. Family. Because someone knew, Novak. And they tried to kill you.”
TWO
Jody needed breathing room. She stepped out onto the porch, welcoming the wintry wind before she had to hear about Evan’s task force. Her emotions were all over the place. Fear of seeing Evan. Irritation that she’d been attracted all over again. Depressed at how things ended the way they had. Bitterness over how he was propelling into her dreams when he didn’t deserve them. The anger from his questioning her performance earlier had dissipated, leaving her with confusion. She’d never compromise her job.
Except the time she had for him. And it had cost her dearly.
Why would someone hack her phone and involve her? Unless she was a target, too. But no shot had been directed at her, so what was that all about?
“Hey.” Beckett Marsh’s wife, Aurora, walked out onto the porch and handed her a to-go cup of coffee—the good stuff from her new coffee shop in the business district downtown, Sufficient Grounds 2.0, named after her original café that had burned down when she lived in Hope, Tennessee. “Amy and I brought coffee and pastries. Of course, I think Amy just wanted to see Wheezer.”
Even their computer analyst had found love.
“I met Evan.” Aurora had become a good friend and Jody had confided in her about him and their past.
“I’m fine.”
“So that’s why you’re out here alone while everyone else is inside.” Aurora grinned and sipped her coffee. “I know his coming here has unearthed a million feelings, but maybe it’s a chance to put the past behind you and move forward.”
Jody didn’t want a deep discussion about moving forward and happily-ever-afters. She didn’t believe in those anymore—didn’t believe in heroes who loved and died sacrificially. She’d learned that in Afghanistan when her best friend had been assaulted by someone she trusted. Someone who was supposed to be an officer and a gentleman. Turned out they were few and far between. The assault was swept under the rug, and Jody had been blacklisted and demoted when she wouldn’t let it go. But it had really become clear when Evan betrayed her and her happily-ever-after died with her dreams.
Enough of this pity party, though. “Let’s go inside. I have to hear about this new task force Evan’s leading.” Hear about how he’d moved on without a care in the world. As if nothing had happened. As if Jody never meant anything to him. If she kept up this thinking, Cosette would notice and demand an hour to process. To talk. She entered the parlor, avoiding eye contact with Evan.
Wilder crossed one leg over his knee. “Okay, Novak. Tell us about this task force because you say it’s relatively new and with the timing of this shooting, I think it could be a link. Not to mention they all knew you’d be at the convention center today.”
“Again, I don’t think anyone on my task force is behind this. But...” Evan cleared his throat. “The operation is called Gunmetal, comprised of ATF, Homeland Security, FBI and Secret Service. We’ve been monitoring a dark web website called the Arsenal for a few months. It’s a virtual marketplace where anyone can sell illegal guns, and it’s practically impossible for law enforcement—or anyone else—to trace buyers and sellers thanks to the N-cog browser and software.”
“What’s that?” Jody asked.
“I use it sometimes,” Wheezer said. He would know about all things dark and secret that lay way beyond the normal internet. Jody wasn’t techy. At all. She could barely figure out her TV remote.
“It provides browsing and purchasing anonymity as well as anonymous emailing ability. N-cog is short for Incognito. No browsing history and it protects you from outside sources monitoring where you’ve been and what you’ve looked at, unlike when you use Google Chrome or another internet browser, which keeps a record even if you clear your browsing history. Nothing is really gone.”
“Except if you use this N-cog browser. It’s undetectable?” Jody asked.
“Right. And because it’s an open network, anyone can download and use it for free. Voilà, everything you do on the internet is now hidden and untraceable.”
“The US government created it,” Wheezer said.
“With some IT experts about a decade or so ago,” Evan added. “Originally it was meant for military and government so they could protect their investigations, communications and intel. Whistle-blowers use it to protect themselves, and people in Communist countries can get real news without repercussions. It has the potential to be amazing. Even for the average person who might not want to see a Facebook ad pop up with what they just looked at on Amazon thirty seconds before. This browser won’t allow any traffic analysis.”
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