The place was clean and furnished. Boxes were stacked along the back wall of the living room behind the worn floral couch. A row of windows overlooked a body of water. There weren’t any boaters or jet skiers like she’d expect on a warm day in July. She spotted two men in a canoe far off and an old man and a little boy fishing off a dock at the neighbor’s.
There wasn’t much of a back lawn before it gently sloped to the water where a short dock and rowboat attached to it bobbed in the water.
“Where are we?”
“Emerald Pond.” Thorne placed his briefcase on the wooden table in the kitchen and unlocked it, pulling out a laptop and a manila folder.
“I know that. But who lives here?”
Lily turned around and took in the rest of her surroundings. The living room was small, but not cramped. A brick fireplace took up much of the wall across from the couch, and a staircase peeked out from behind it.
“Does anyone else besides Grace Le Blanc know about your true identity?” Thorne sat in one of the wooden chairs, his shoulders stiff, and set back as he typed on his laptop.
“Not yet.”
His typing stopped, and he tilted his head up. “Not yet? I thought you valued your safety. And your privacy.”
Too uptight to sit, she crossed her arms, tucking her hands around her middle and paced the small downstairs. She went through the story again, this time in more detail than she had on the phone, about her conversation with Grace.
“I looked into Miss Le Blanc’s background and her activity for the past six years.”
Even though she didn’t feel right about it, when he told her he’d do some digging, she knew he would investigate Grace. Guilt sloshed in her belly like she was slugging through wet sand digging for clams. Gross and dirty but had to be done.
“There were a few red flags.”
Lily stilled. She was afraid to ask, but had to. “She’s not...” She tried to swallow, the pressure in her throat making it difficult to do so. “She’s not involved, is she?”
Thorne’s eyes didn’t reveal a thing. His face remained void of any emotion as he stared at her across the room. Lily bit her lip in worry.
“Not that I can tell. She’s crossed paths with Damian Gervais and his associates before.”
Lily gasped and dropped into the chair across from Thorne. “No.”
“As far as I can tell, there weren’t any business dealings. She flitted around Europe for a few years, working in establishments Gervais’ employees, girlfriends, and wife would visit. Vineyards, shops, restaurants.”
Girlfriends. She’d always had her suspicions.
“Regularly? Did you see a pattern?”
Thorne shook his head. “It appears coincidental and not regular. Miss Le Blanc worked a lot of jobs never staying long in one spot. That alone is a red flag.”
“From what I’ve learned from her sister, Grace has always been like that. She doesn’t stay in one place for very long and hasn’t figured out what she wants in life.”
“She’s susceptible. Money hungry. Can easily be bought.”
“I don’t think so.” Lily wouldn’t believe it. Even though she wasn’t close to Grace, no one was, the woman was still looking for her career path. The same could be said for Mia. Heck, Mia worked every odd job there was in Crystal Cove. The only difference with Grace was she did it in Europe.
“You can’t be too trusting. Not in your position.” Thorne didn’t scare her, but he did throw off some pretty intimidating vibes. His tall frame filled out his suit with menacing power. Not bulk like Ty. Something different. Confidence. His lack of emotion was a shield that worked as a protection for him and ammunition for the enemy. He was a tough one to read.
“I know. I’m normally not, but the people here in Crystal Cove are different. They’re good, hardworking people.” Lily chewed at the inside of her cheek and tried to calm her churning belly before telling Thorne about her next move. “I’ve, uh, gotten close to them. Especially—”
“Ty Parker.”
Thorne had never interrupted her before. He was the quiet one. The one who waited out his opponent until they dug themselves into a whole or confessed the truth.
“You know about Ty?”
“Yes.” He didn’t say it with cocky smugness. It was a matter of fact. Agent Throne knew about everything. “I’ve run a comprehensive background check on him. He served in the military. Was engaged to a woman named Kristi Longley. She had an affair with Kyle Thomas in Dallas. They have a son together.” He continued with the facts Lily already knew.
Her head spun and her ears rang, drowning out Thorne’s monotone list of Ty’s service and his jobs and family in Crystal Cove. And then hurricane force winds hit the swamp, covering her from head to toe in a shit storm.
Lily’s elbows dug into the table top and she covered her face in her hands, ashamed of the violation of privacy she brought to the people in Crystal Cove.
“Hope Windward Smithfield—”
“Stop!” She lifted her head and glared at the stoic man. “Stop prodding into my friends’ lives. They deserve their privacy. Leave them the hell alone.” She shot out of her chair and stormed out the backdoor until she reached the pond.
The setting was incongruous to what was going on inside the house. Turmoil. Tension. Deceit. Lies. While outside the water was calm, barely a ripple and the sun shone brightly overhead, the occasional cumulous cloud softening the sunshine, making beautiful reflections in the glasslike water.
If she hadn’t heard the squeaky hinges of the door, she never would have known Thorne had joined her. The man seemed to always be in stealth mode. He stood next to her, hands dangling loosely at his sides.
Just once she’d like to see him tense. A wrinkle in his brow. Lips pursed in thought.
“You’re planning on telling Mr. Parker who you are.” He didn’t ask. He knew. It was creepy.
“I love him. I can’t keep secrets from someone I love.”
“Kristi Langley said she’d loved him as well.”
“I’m not going to cheat on him.”
“I wasn’t implying you would.”
“You’re saying he’ll cheat on me?”
“Betrayal is as common as love.”
“That’s sad.” Lily cocked her head to the side and studied him. While his gaze was focused on the pond in front of him, somehow she knew he wasn’t taking in the beauty of their surroundings. He was scoping out the neighbors, the boaters; even the fish jumping out of the water weren’t safe from his speculative glare.
“It’s reality. My job is to keep you safe, Miss Novak. I’ve gone to great lengths to provide you with security. If you breach it willingly, I’ll be forced to note that in the paperwork and pull back my protection.”
“What protection? You’re only here because I called you. I could have handled this on my own.” Not even a cock of his eyebrow. “Wait.” She stepped back, realization setting in. “You’ve been spying on me?” That’s why he’d already done the thorough background check on Ty. Now she felt violated too. “Let me guess. You have telephoto lenses in your trunk or in your briefcase. Do you get off on spying on innocent people?”
Lily turned and fled. She typically wore sneakers or flats while working and today, of course, was the day she wore wedges. She ran down the driveway as far as she could before her arches gave out. Flopping to the ground, she crunched her knees to her chest and buried her face in her hands and cried. It was either that or puke.
The prickly gravel under her butt and the hot sun on her back didn’t bother her as much as the invasion of privacy. Not of her. Hell, her life was an open book. To the FBI. Her friends, though, they didn’t deserve to be treated as possible threats, possible criminals. But that’s how it would be for the rest of her life.
The FBI lurking around the corner, hoping to catch one of Damian’s men who’d slipped away. They were more concerned and focused on finding the next hit man than keeping her safe.
“I know what you’re thi
nking.” The shadow of doom loomed over her.
“You’d have to have feelings and emotions to know that.” Lily wiped her eyes across the back of her hand and focused on the gravelly driveway, ignoring the polished black loafers to her left.
“My job is to keep you safe. Anyone who sparks an interest in you is an immediate threat.”
“Thanks. You know how to make a girl feel special. Can’t someone be interested in me for me?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“It’s what you meant.” Lily didn’t care about being rude or crass to Agent Thorne. He may have only been kind, yet distant to her, but was still an FBI agent. A constant reminder her life would never be normal.
“I want to keep you safe.”
“So you’ve said.” Lily dropped her hands to the ground to push herself up, ignoring Thorne’s outstretched hand. She wiped the gravel off her butt and crossed her arms, a common stance when the agent was around.
“I don’t believe anyone in this town is a threat to your safety. If they were, I wouldn’t have brought you here.”
“Yet you pried into everyone’s private life.” Brushing past him, she marched back to the cabin. She needed to go to the bathroom and then would make him drive her back home. Or, better yet, she’d steal his keys and ditch the guy.
Even on the crunchy gravel his footsteps were silent behind her. The only way she knew he’d followed was when she caught his reflection in the gleam of the black Lexus.
She stepped into the house and let the screen door slam behind her, not caring about the rudeness in her behavior. Lily had been brought up on dignified etiquette—ironic, seeing how her father and ex-husband had been lying, cheating criminals—and was called sweet by the people in Crystal Cove, but the FBI brought out a rough side in her she didn’t know existed.
Circling around the bottom floor and coming up empty, she climbed the stairs in search of a bathroom. With only three doors to choose from, she opened the closest and was relieved to find what she was looking for.
A few minutes later, after splashing cold water on her face, she opened the door. The sound of Thorne’s fast and furious typing came from below. Not ready to face him, she snooped around. The door to the left opened to a small bedroom. A twin bed took up the back wall, simply made in a pale pink quilt. A tall bureau stood next to it. The room was devoid of any other furnishing or decorations. Two boxes were stacked at the foot of the bed, sealed and labeled. Guest room.
Lily crossed to the other room and opened the door. While it wasn’t fully decorated, the nightstand did host a hardcover book and a pair of reading glasses. Another stack of boxes sat at the foot of the double bed. Someone was either moving in or moving out.
A picture frame behind the novel caught her eye. Peeking over her shoulder she craned and still heard his typing, so she crept further into the room. Lily picked up the frame and gasped at the couple smiling at each other.
“Prying, are you?”
Lily jumped and dropped the picture on the carpeted floor. Thorne stooped to pick it up and placed it back on the nightstand.
“Do they know... about... me? You?”
“You? No. Me? Yes.”
Why in the world would Ruth and Herb Bergeron know FBI agent Ryan Thorne? Unless... “Are they in the witness protection plan too? Is that why they’re retiring and moving?”
“Let’s go downstairs.” Thorne stood by the doorway, apparently waiting for Lily to go first.
“First. Tell me the Bergerons are safe. They’re a sweet elderly couple. If my being in town brought them any harm...” She gulped, and that damn swelling throat of hers nearly choked her.
“They’re safe and have nothing to do with this.”
“Why are we here?”
“Downstairs.” He closed the bedroom door behind her when she finally left.
Her feet and legs were like lead, but they finally got her down the stairs. Like a gentleman, Thorne held out a kitchen chair for her and she sat.
What was the connection? “Out of all the hideouts in the world, why did the FBI choose Crystal Cove?”
Thorne closed his laptop and sat across from her. He folded his hands together and rested them on the table as he looked at her with those serious, expressionless eyes.
“The FBI as a whole doesn’t place witnesses. The fewer who know about the whereabouts the better.”
“So who knows I’m here?”
“Me. And two others. Veronica Stewart-Gervais is dead. She’s buried next to her mother and father in St. John Cemetery in Middle Village in New York.”
How fitting that her father had purchased family plots for the family in the same cemetery that housed so many mobsters.
“You still haven’t answered my question.” Was that a tick she saw in his face? Maybe a glimmer of a grin? It was gone before she could register it.
“I have connections to the town.”
“Which was how you found my building at an affordable price.” The FBI had given her the start-up cost for supplies and the first year’s rent. Well, not exactly given. She didn’t take any money or possessions that she’d been entitled to, and as a thank you—sort of—they’d made arrangements for her work and apartment.
The Sea Salt Spa hadn’t required much in renovations. It had been a hair salon before. While Thorne, or whoever, took care of sprucing the place up and slapping a fresh coat of paint on the walls, Lily had taken on her new identity and attended beauty school in South Carolina. She flew through the classes and spent every minute she wasn’t in class on the floor of the beauty school, earning her hours.
Beauty and fashion were her thing growing up. If the profession wasn’t so beneath the Stewart family’s expectation, she probably would have gone into it. She had a good eye for what looked good. All she needed was the training. And she got that.
By the time the Sea Salt Spa was ready, she had her certificate.
“If your cover has been blown, it’s not from anyone who’s been in town for the past few years. Miss Le Blanc did wipe out most of her social media account as you’d told me, but there’s a chance her pictures of you are still circulating out there.”
“You think Grace is a threat?”
Again, his eyes didn’t reveal any of his true thoughts. “Not intentionally.”
“I want to know what your connection is to the Bergerons. Do they know we’re in their house right now? This is a total invasion of their privacy, you know. Or do you have them locked up in the basement?”
“There isn’t a basement.”
Lily scowled. “Is that your poor attempt at a joke?”
“It’s a fact.”
“So you scoured the place before bringing me out here?”
“You could say that.”
“What the hell? You said we’d talk once downstairs. Well, hell, since there isn’t a basement, I’d say we’re downstairs. I deserve to know everything. This is my life you’re trying to ruin!” Lily pounded the table with her fists while her heart beat erratically in her chest.
“I’m not ruining your life. I’m protecting it,” he said calmly.
“Go to hell.” She tugged at her scalp and scratched her nails down her face in frustration.
“Ruth and Herb Bergeron are my grandparents.”
“What?” Lily’s eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t picture the stoic agent with grandparents. Heck, with a family of any sort.
“I spent my summers here growing up.”
“Do they know you’re...”
“An FBI agent? Yes. That’s no secret.”
“Do they know who I am?”
“No.” Thorne shook his head. “The rental agreement was signed by Lily Novak’s lawyer, Chip Franklin.”
Lily snorted. “Total fake name. Couldn’t you come up with something a little more believable than that?”
Again, an almost smirk from Thorne. “That’s his real name. He’s in the agency with me. One of the others who knows about you.”
“No. The less contact, the fewer connections the better.”
“Yet you bring me to your childhood getaway? Not smart, Agent Thorne.”
“Safer than some of our safe houses.”
“Until I blew it. Is that why your grandparents are retiring? Have I brought danger to the town?” Regret boiled in her gut.
“No. They’d planned on retiring three years ago.”
“Why didn’t they?”
“You should still be safe in Crystal Cove. I strongly urge you not to say anything to Mr. Parker about your true identity. I can speak with Miss Le Blanc if you’d like. Make sure she understands how important discretion is. If you don’t feel comfortable, I have another place I can send you. I have a new identity for you in here.” He took out a manila folder and slid it across the table to her. “New name. New state.”
“A new identity?” Tears pooled in Lily’s eyes as she fingered the edge of the folder. She liked who she’d become. Lily Novak from Crystal Cove. Owner of the Sea Salt Spa. Part of a book club. Friend to many. And in love with Ty Parker.
She had it all. She wouldn’t leave. Unless her friends were in danger.
“I can’t leave,” her voice, barely audible, croaked.
“It’s your choice. For now.”
“You’ll tell me if you think anyone’s in danger?”
“Of course.”
“Have there been any leads?”
“Nothing.” Thorne shook his head. “Chances are there aren’t any leaks. Everyone involved in Gervais’ crime circle may already be dead or in custody. We’ll never really know.”
“So no news is good news?” Lily ran her hand across the folder before sliding it back to Thorne. “I’m staying. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me the second you have any suspicions.”
“I’ll need my telephoto lens and spy cameras to keep me informed.”
Was that a joke? Now? There was no inflection in his voice and no lift in his lip to reveal if it was.
“Spy on the bad guy. Leave the rest of us out of it.”
“You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
“I need your word as well.”
“Of course. For what?”
What Makes Us Stronger (A Well Paired Novel Book 3) Page 18