by Vicki Hinze
“Go right in,” Gladys said, not a single brown hair out of place or an unnecessary crease in her brown suit. “He’s waiting for you.”
She checked her watch, and even though less than thirty minutes had elapsed, Laura had the distinct feeling Gladys’s smirk was a visual reprimand for their slow response to a STAT order to report.
Jake opened the door, then ducked his head in through the crack. “General?”
“Come in, Jake, Laura.” Connor stood up to greet them. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”
He’d summoned them STAT, for God’s sake. Had he really expected them to meander in at their leisure? Laura chided herself for that ungracious thought. It seemed ridiculous to condemn the man for being courteous. Especially when he was calling her Laura.
“I’m sorry about Bill Green,” he said to Laura. “I understand you considered him a friend.”
Laura nodded. The smell of lemon overwhelmed her, and her head felt light. She swayed on her feet.
Jake’s arm closed around her, and he guided her to the first of two visitors’ chairs in front of Connor’s desk. “She’s exhausted, General, and in shock.”
Laura looked up at Jake, ready to blister his ears for making excuses for her, but the worry in his eyes stopped her cold and took the sting out of his comment. He was being solicitous and caring, not condemning. “It’s the lemon,” she corrected him. “I hate it, and it smells so strong.”
“So do I,” Connor said. “Stinks like hell. Jake, open the window, will you? And let Gladys know.” He swiveled his gaze to Laura, then to the coffeepot. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
She decided then she liked Connor. Opening the window was a security risk, and Gladys would have to notify the security staff to keep them out of here. And few generals would bother taking care of such a trivial task as getting Laura a cup of coffee themselves. They’d fob the courtesy off on their version of Gladys or an assistant. That Connor didn’t spoke well of him, and favorably of his views toward his staff and the value of their time. “Please,” Laura answered him. “Black.”
When he passed her the cup, she looked up into his eyes and saw empathy there. Empathy and regret. It scared her in a way him being suspicious of her hadn’t. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
He went around his desk, then sat down. “It’s been a rough couple days for all of us, hasn’t it?”
“We’ve had better.” Jake sat down beside her, then reached for the coffee Connor had placed on the edge of his desk.
Looking through the steam rising from her cup at Connor, Laura thought he looked weary, and she expected he was weary. Having one of his staff suspected of heading ROFF had to have him up nights gnashing his teeth.
“Are the autopsies in?” Jake sipped from his cup.
Connor nodded. “Strong anthrax.”
Laura knew as well as they did that this was the best possible of the bad news.
Connor rocked back, then glanced up at the portrait of General Patton. Now why would that have Jake grimacing?
“We’re ninety percent sure,” Connor looked at her, “that your consultant status has been compromised, Laura.”
Her heart began a slow, hard beat. Yet today, unlike yesterday, he called her by her Christian name, not Mrs. Logan and not Captain. He had to believe her innocent of treason. He’d authorized disclosures to her as well. Of course he believed her innocent. She didn’t know whether to thank him or to yell at him for doubting her, and decided it wisest to resist temptation and do neither.
“Why?” This from a worried-looking Jake.
“Our team found a listening device planted in Laura’s Mustang. We’re seventy-five percent sure Bill Green put it there some time ago.”
“Bill? No,” Laura objected. “He wouldn’t bug my car.”
“A mechanic from his shop claims he did. We’re checking into the backgrounds of both men to see if either of them had formal skills, and we’re trying to confirm or disprove the statement.”
Bill couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. Laura felt sick inside and damn close to tears. Bury it. Bury it, Logan. Duty first. Nothing stays hidden.
Jake reached over and clasped her hand. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She squeezed his fingers in a death grip. If he let go of her, she was going to fall apart. Pure and simple. He would just have to forgive her for it.
He spoke to Connor. “That’s why you retrieved Green’s body from the scene and brought it to the base.”
Surprise darted up Laura’s backbone. “You retrieved his body?” When Connor nodded, she went on. “But we live in a private residential area off base. You don’t have the jurisdiction to retrieve a man’s body.”
“Normally, no, I don’t. But in this case, I do. Green’s body and your car are evidence in an ongoing military investigation.”
An ongoing investigation against her. “Are you still thinking I might have breached security or committed treason, General?”
“No, Laura. I’m not.”
Thank God. “Then this ongoing investigation is against Bill?”
Connor nodded.
“You think he’s connected to ROFF?” Seeing that’s exactly what he believed, she let out a laugh lacking humor. “That’s absurd.”
“Laura,” Jake whispered, softly warning her she was going too far.
“No. I’m sorry, but it is absurd. I don’t believe it, and I’ll say so until I’m proven wrong.” She let out a little grunt. “Are you forgetting who Bill is? He’s the man who’s hassled me as much as you have to replace the heap they think he’s bugged. The man patient enough to show Timmy how to replace an air filter on a car, how to check the oil and the tire pressure. It just doesn’t fit that he’d plant a listening device in my car, or do anything to hurt us. He was a good man, and I won’t believe otherwise until I see it in black and white.”
She swung her gaze to the general. “I’m sure you have strong evidence or you’d never have said this about Bill, but I’m telling you, General, it’s just not possible. He’s owned that shop for twenty years. His wife still works the front desk for him. Everyone in town knows he’s the only honest mechanic around. He just wouldn’t do this.”
“I appreciate your insight, Laura, and I’ll note it. If you feel this strongly about the man, I’m sure there’s merit.” He jotted down some notes on a yellow legal pad. “What can you tell me about the mechanic who works with him?”
“There isn’t one. At least there wasn’t when I picked up the Mustang a month or so ago.” A memory flitted through her mind, and she gasped. “Wait. Mrs. Green did say Bill was looking for help in the shop. They wanted to take a trip up to Oregon to see their son and his family.”
“For what it’s worth, I agree with Laura,” Jake said. “This wouldn’t fit in with what I know of Bill Green’s character or his habit patterns.”
“I’ll note that, too.” Connor’s pen scratched across the width of the pad. “On the flip side of this, in the last twenty-four hours, our problem with ROFF has grown more complicated.” He put the pen down and looked first at Jake, then at Laura. “The folks upstairs estimate a ninety-nine-point-nine percent probability that both of you have been exposed as Special Ops known entities to ROFF. And they’re predicting that after this bomb attempt Timmy will be targeted next.”
“No!” Feeling as if she’d been kicked in the stomach, and all of the air had been squeezed out of her lungs, Laura clenched Jake’s hand even tighter. “No.”
“Don’t panic,” Connor said. “There’s no time for it, or value in it.”
She dug deep and warned herself to calm down. She’d be useless to Timmy otherwise. But he’s just a little boy. My son!
Connor tapped his pen against the blotter on his desk. “Until we wrap this up, I strongly recomme
nd we fly Timmy to Colonel James for protective custody.”
Laura nearly choked. “You want to send my son to Colonel James? B-But Madeline worked for him.” It was a lousy excuse, but hell, he’d stunned her by suggesting James. Good God, of all people, why him?
“We worked for him, too,” Jake said, sounding totally reasonable.
“Timmy knows him,” Connor said. “We’ve got to get him into protective custody, and I thought he’d be more comfortable with someone he knows.”
“Thank you for considering his comfort. I mean that sincerely, but my son will not be going to Colonel James,” Laura said. Exactly why she’d said it as she had she didn’t know. True, she had strong, strong feelings on this matter and against Colonel James, but she didn’t want to have to explain them. She should have been more discreet. More subtle. More diplomatic.
Jake rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “We’ve got to put him someplace safe.”
A snake wouldn’t be safe with James, and she knew damn well Timmy wouldn’t be. But she couldn’t explain why, not here and not now. “I’ll take him to a place I know he’ll be safe.”
“Where?” Jake asked.
“Trust me on this.” Someone with Special Ops training was heading ROFF, and until Laura knew who, she wasn’t taking any chances. Not with Timmy at stake.
“Laura,” Connor interjected. “I can appreciate your concerns and your apprehensions. A blind man can see how much you love the boy. But we need to know where he’ll be. How else can we protect him?”
“He’s my son,” she said softly. “I’ll see to his protection.”
“Where? With whose help?” Connor asked. “No great-aunt Tilda is up to the job, Laura. You know how ruthless terrorists can be. Don’t let your personal feelings against a highly decorated officer get your son killed.”
She clenched her jaw. “I don’t have a great-aunt, nor do I have any intention of going against my instincts on this. My instincts are Special Ops honed, and they’re telling me to keep my son out of Colonel James’ hands.” She shrugged. “I’m listening.”
“At least tell me where he’ll be,” Connor insisted. “So I can have backup security on alert.”
Laura lifted her chin. “No.”
Surprise flickered through Connor’s eyes, and he perked up. “No?”
She didn’t dare risk looking at Jake. He couldn’t look much different than the general. She spoke firmly, but quietly. The last thing she needed or wanted was for either of them to think her emotions were running the show, though in a way, she supposed they were—her woman’s were—specifically that of woman’s intuition. “Where and with whom I place Timmy is classified information, General. Mine. If you want absolution from any liability, you have it.”
Laura held her breath, half-expecting Jake to raise hell, but he didn’t utter a sound.
“Major?” Connor looked at Jake, clearly surprised and worried.
“She’s his mother, sir, and she’s got great instincts,” Jake said without so much as a glance in her direction. “If she says she’ll handle his protection, she’ll handle it.”
Laura could have kissed him.
“Very well. We’re here if we can be of service.”
“Thank you, sir,” Laura said. “I mean that sincerely.”
The skin knitted between Connor’s brows, and he shoved aside a stack of files. “You know we’ve had your home under surveillance.”
Laura schooled her voice to keep from yelling. “I have not compromised my integrity.”
“I believe that, Mrs. Logan.”
Hell, she’d crossed him, and now they were back to formalities again. Unfortunate, but when it came to Timmy and his safety . . .
Someone knocked on the office door.
Connor rubbed a weary hand over his neck and elevated his voice. “Enter.”
Gladys came in and passed the general a large brown envelope. “The photos,” she said softly, glancing disapprovingly at the open window. She sniffed, then left the office and tugged the door shut.
Connor opened the clasp. The stiff paper crackled. “Hopefully, these will tell us what we’re working against down there.” He pulled out a fistful of letter-size photos. “These were taken by the observation team posted in front of your home,” he explained, glancing through a couple, then passing a stack to Jake and another to Laura. “Intel is running them through the computer for ID.”
Laura took them, her hand not quite steady. Three people were in the first photo. One was obscured by the car. Of the two men getting out of it, one had his face turned ninety degrees away from the camera. The second one didn’t. He stared right at the viewer. She’d never seen him in her life.
Jake groaned.
“What?” She snapped her gaze to him.
He started to hand a photo to her, hesitated, and then passed it on. “I’m sorry, Laura.”
Dread flooded her. She knew what was coming was bad. Jake’s reaction made it impossible not to know it. Her mouth stone dry, she pulled up a reserve stock of courage, then took the photo. Her hand shook hard, and she willed it to stop. Before she looked down, she steeled herself, mentally preparing for the worst. To see anyone’s face looking back at her.
“Oh, God.” The photo slipped from her hands, and she covered her mouth to hold in a scream. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe!
“Jake?” Alarm elevated Connor’s voice a full octave.
“Paul Hawkins, sir.”
Fear exploded, and anger boiled in Laura’s veins. “There’s your Special Ops trained head of ROFF.” When Jake looked at her, she remembered him asking her once if she was afraid of him. Not unless you’re God or Paul Hawkins. I save my fear for the big time gun threats.
Connor reached for the phone, and Laura let out a sigh of relief. For a moment, she’d doubted what she was seeing, had wondered if only fear had made her see her worst nightmare there.
Connor cut in. “Is this the same Paul Hawkins who once attacked you?”
Laura sat quietly, trying to calm herself down and form a plan, while Jake refreshed the general’s memory on the survival school incident. Connor then relayed it to whoever was on the other end of the phone line, adding a personal note that time obviously hadn’t healed Hawkins’ hatred for Laura.
The shame and humiliation he had brought on himself but blamed on her still ruled the man. Obviously, he continued to blame her. She had suffered, lost, forfeited, but all that wasn’t enough. He wanted her to suffer more.
Her nightmares of him returning to her life were coming true. Fear and anger assaulted her. She stiffened and worked hard to squelch those emotions. To do battle with Paul Hawkins, she needed God’s help, luck, and logic. Strong, clear thinking. A plan.
She’d have to make sure Timmy and Betsy didn’t return to the house. Betsy should be fine at Alice’s. But there was only one place in the world Laura considered safe for Timmy. And she wasn’t at all sure he’d be welcome there.
“Laura,” Connor said, claiming her attention. “Survival school was a long time ago. Are you sure this is Hawkins?”
She looked the general straight in the eye. “When a man’s working at choking you to death, and he’s coming damn close to succeeding, you tend to remember what he looks like.” She did. In full color and vivid detail. From the incident itself and the uproar it’d caused to the nightmares she’d had about it ever since.
“Fine.” Connor had the grace to look away. “Did Hawkins and Bill Green know each other?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Jake turned to her. “Laura?”
“I have no idea.” She stared sightlessly at her hands in her lap. Hawkins had been tried and convicted of “conduct unbecoming” and dishonorably discharged. Except for her nightmares reliving the episodes of his attack, the trial, and
his conviction, she’d thought he was out of her life forever. But as much as she hated knowing he had wrangled his way back in, she had no trouble accepting it. He’d proven himself capable of anything. Even murder. What she hated accepting was what his actions represented: hatred that runs deep never diffuses, it only feeds on itself. To get involved with ROFF, he had to hate her ten times more now than after he’d been court-martialed and kicked out of the Air Force. Maybe twenty times more.
A stray thought popped into her mind. Connor had wanted to send Timmy to Colonel James? An uneasy shiver crept up her spine. How had he gotten involved in this? “General?”
“Yes?”
“Did you brief Colonel James on this situation?”
“More or less.” He frowned. “Why?”
She lowered her gaze to the desk, avoiding his eyes. “I was just curious,” she said, shrouded in guilt. She had suspected James of being corrupt. Knew he and Sean Drake had conspired against her to ruin her career. But she hadn’t mentioned it to anyone for fear of not being believed and of being humiliated professionally as well as privately. That professional humiliation would have been inescapable had she stayed active duty. Those two men carried a major amount of clout. But most of all, she hadn’t wanted to tell Jake.
Now it was too late. Whatever damage Colonel James had managed to do in this ROFF mission was already done. Her instincts screamed he hadn’t just appeared on the scene incidentally. Men like him didn’t depend on coincidence. He’d intentionally insinuated himself. She knew it as well as she knew she sat in General Connor’s office, still smelling—God help her—lemon. And she was to blame for whatever damage James had done, because she’d done nothing back then to stop him.
How in the name of heaven could she live with this, much less explain it to Jake?
Connor eyed Laura warily. “You have strong feelings against Colonel James. I would like to know the nature of them.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Any particular reason?” he asked.
Oh, God. “Several.” She lifted her gaze to the portrait of Patton, then lowered it to the general. It’d take a miracle to get by with this. “None of which I care to discuss.” Her gaze turned pleading. “I would ask you to trust me, General.”