Hallowed Ground

by Mary Alford

  Heading back inside, he killed the lights and crept to the window. The SUV hadn’t moved. What was it doing there?

  When the dread inside him continued to mount, he called it in.

  “Hey, Jax, what are you doing up so late?” Dylan Gaines, one of the Special Activities Division team members assigned to him, asked. Jax could ask Dylan the same thing. It was closer to daybreak than it was night.

  “I need you to run a vehicle description search for me.” Jax gave him the information. He could hear Dylan typing.

  “You know this is DC. There’s a vehicle fitting that description stolen all the time. Why do you want me to run this one?” Dylan asked, no doubt curious by the odd request.

  “Because it’s parked near my neighbor’s house, and it doesn’t belong here.”

  “Got it . . .” The sound of keys being typed followed, then, “Wait, that’s strange,” Dylan said, and immediately Jax was on alert.

  “What’d you find?”

  “There is one vehicle fitting that description that was reported stolen last week, but get this. It belongs to the Afghan Embassy.”

  This grabbed Jax’s attention immediately. Was it a fluke given that Blake had been killed in Afghanistan? The prickling at the back of his neck said differently.

  “Strange coincidence, don’t you think?”

  Dylan took his time answering. “It is, but the vehicle was reported stolen.”

  Still, Jax couldn’t let it go that easily. He crossed the room to the window once more. The SUV had vanished in the time it took him to place the call. “I’m sure you’re right, but I want to talk to the person who drove the vehicle last, and I want to do it as soon as possible.”

  “All right.” Dylan’s audible sigh spoke volumes. Securing a meeting with anyone from the embassy at such a short notice would be difficult. “I’ll see what I can set up for you tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Dylan,” Jax said and meant it. “I’m grateful for anything you can do. I’ll see you in the morning.” He ended the cal. With his Glock in hand, he went outside, slowly making his way over to where the vehicle had been parked. He panned the area. Was the parked SUV simply an accident or were they watching his place? Or Erin?

  Jax dragged out his phone again and called her. “Hey, did you make it home okay?” he asked before she managed to say hello. Because he was now worried.

  “Yes, I just got home.” He could hear the questions in her tone. “Why?”

  “No reason. I was worried about you, I guess.” He regretted his choice of words. It hinted at more of a relationship than she was comfortable with, and he had just kissed her. Erin was a professional. She’d know the pitfalls of a romance between them.

  “Okay.” Her tone confirmed she didn’t believe his excuse. After another awkward moment of silence, she said, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She ended the call in typical Erin fashion and

  Jax went back inside.

  Too restless to think about sleep, he dug out his dad’s old Bible. Since losing Blake, he’d found himself returning to the faith of his childhood. The night of the funeral he’d scoured the Word of God and received comfort there. Since then, he’d found himself on his knees, begging for forgiveness and pleading for answers. But God, in His infinite wisdom, was being patient with His answers.

  Chapter Two

  Erin stared up at the place that was like a second home to her in the past. The Central Intelligence Agency in Langley, Virginia. The building promised protection. Freedom. Security. All a myth. It hadn’t delivered any of those things for Blake. The job had taken away a good man.

  As Erin stepped inside the entrance, she fought back the nausea at being here again. In the time since Blake’s death, her grief had morphed to anger, then rage at the Agency that had yet to find his killers.

  Today, within these once-hallowed halls, it was business as usual. For Erin, it wasn’t the patriot business that brought her back. It was the need to get justice for Blake. If it were she who had died, Blake would go to the ends of the earth to find her killers.

  “Erin, you’re back!” Jennifer, the bleached-blonde receptionist spotted her immediately and hurried her way.

  Erin forced a smile on her face. “Yes, I’m back.”

  Jennifer was the type of person who never met an enemy and wore her heart for the world to see. Compassion replaced her delight at seeing Erin again.

  “I’m so sorry. I still can’t believe he’s gone.” After a hug, Jen blinked back tears and linked her arm through Erin’s. They walked toward the elevators together. For once, Erin was grateful for the company. She’d dreaded facing the rest of her unit again. They’d plied her with sympathy after the memorial service, but, as with most cases when someone close to you dies, people don’t know what to say or do to make it better. She felt as if she’d lost part of herself.

  More than seeing her colleagues again, she dreaded facing Jax. Lately, it seemed he was in her thoughts a little too much. He’d kissed her, forcing her to acknowledge there was more to her feelings for him then she wanted to admit.

  He was her commander, her grief partner, Blake’s best friend. And since Blake’s death and their return to the States, he’d become the one she turned to for comfort.

  As a closed-off ex-marine, Jax rarely spoke about his life outside the Agency. She’d once pestered Blake for information about his friend, convincing herself it was mild curiosity and nothing more. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Something stirred inside her whenever she was with Jax. She stuffed those feelings down deep. She had a mission to perform. Nothing could get in the way of finding Blake’s killers.

  “Everyone’s missed you so much. I’m glad your back. You should see the junk they pass off as coffee these days,” Jen said.

  Erin kept the smile glued on her face for Jen’s sake. It was a running joke when she was away on a mission that the coffee around the Agency stunk to high heaven. Jen told her she was the only one who could brew a decent cup. “I’ll have to see what I can do about that.”

  The elevator doors slid open, and, in a blink of the eye, she was back in the game again. She stepped out with Jen still close.

  Breathe . . . she chanted in her head. Just breathe. These people are your friends.

  It took only a few seconds before the people with whom she’d worked side by side through some of the worst possible times in history realized she was back. One by one, they came to her. Her comrades. The ones she was closest to gave her hugs. The rest extending their hands. Some couldn’t quite make eye contact.

  “How are you?” Sam Herring, one the best code-crackers around and a dear friend, waited until the crowd around her dwindled before asking.

  Jen took this as her cue to return to her desk. She winked and said, “I’ll catch up with you later. You want to have dinner at The Patriot this evening?”

  Socializing—returning to normal—felt impossible. It hurt too much. Like a scab being ripped from the wound before its time. “Maybe. Check with me later.” She felt as if the fake smile had been surgically stitched to her face.

  Jen didn’t take offense. “I understand. I’ll grab you later for coffee.”

  Erin pivoted toward Sam. He was the type of guy who rarely smiled. Always so serious, he’d told her once that he’d been an introvert during school, spending most of the time in his room with his only friend, a computer.

  “I’m taking each day and getting through it. So, I’m okay, I guess.” She answered his previous question.

  Sam nodded. “I miss him too. He was the only person I know who could beat me at War.”

  Erin swallowed back sorrow. It never ceased to amaze her how someone who lived the spy game in real time and had witnessed war firsthand could become almost addicted to a video game as Blake had. He and Sam had monthly gaming evenings where they played long into the night. Blake told her once it was because in the game he was in control. He could walk away from it whenever he wanted.

  “I can still see him, clothes
disheveled, eyes bloodshot, euphoric after one of your all-night gaming sessions.”

  “Yeah,” Sam managed after clearing his throat.

  “Have there been any breakthroughs on the . . . case?” She’d promised herself she wouldn’t ask, yet she couldn’t help it. She needed to know because she couldn’t bear the thought of Blake’s killers walking around free.

  Sam appeared uncomfortable. “Not really,” he said after a beat. “There’s been nothing on the usual sites. No new chatter. It’s almost as if they’re waiting for our next move.” Sam’s gaze slid from her to focus on something behind her left shoulder, his brows raised.

  “Erin, can I speak with you for a minute.” Jax. His familiar, husky-sounding voice swept over her. She’d wondered how long it would take him to locate her.

  Struggling to find the perfect blank expression, she faced him. Truth was, she didn’t know how she felt about Jax Murphy most days. Since Blake’s death, well, she owed him her sanity, yet she was pretty sure he wouldn’t want her thanks.

  Erin squeezed Sam’s arm, then followed Jax into his office without a word. He closed the door softly, then waited while she made up her mind to sit.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked, the calmness in his tone enveloping her.

  She was sick of everyone asking her that ridiculous question, but managed to keep her disgust to herself. “I’m okay. I want to jump in and get busy. It’s best that way.”

  His gaze slid over her face, and she felt the familiar rush of heat. Jax had the power to make her aware of him, even at the most inappropriate of moments. Like when she was barely keeping it together. Like now. She lifted her chin and waited for him to meet her eyes.

  “Are you sure you’re ready to be back at work?”

  Her frazzled nerves couldn’t let that statement go unchallenged. “You’re back. He was your friend as well. Are you sure you’re ready to be here?” Her tone was sharp, conveying her anger.

  A muscle flexed in his jaw. She’d seen it many times in the past when their conversation turned adversarial. She’d gotten to him.

  “But my friendship with Blake was different than yours. You were his partner. That relationship is closer than family most times. You trust your life to your partner. It’s different,” he stressed.

  She lowered her eyes. After a second, she cleared her throat. “I’m fine. Really. I want to work.”

  Jax sat on the edge of his desk. “We need to talk about last night. Erin . . .”

  Her pulse kicked out a crazy rhythm. He’d made a mistake by kissing her. She didn’t want to hear his apologies. Waving her hand between them, she said, “No, we don’t. You acted on an impulse and it’s okay, I’m all right. We’re all right. And frankly, I’m sick of talking. I’ve talked to the shrink. Friends. Acquaintances. Your pastor. Strangers. So, if it’s all the same to you, we don’t need to talk about what happened last night. All we need to do is find the people who did this to Blake before the trail goes cold.”

  He started to say something more, but thought better of it. “All right, we won’t talk.”

  Erin rose to her feet, and, after a moment’s hesitation, went into his arms. “It’s okay. It will be okay, really. I know you’re hurting, and that kiss last night didn’t mean anything. It was blowing off emotions or whatever, so don’t worry so much. We’ll get through this.” She looked into his eyes and saw confusion there.

  He tensed briefly, nodded, held her tighter. She’d turned to him so many times since Blake’s passing. In a weird way, spending time together had helped them both grieve.

  Since Blake’s death, she’d lost her edge. She needed to get it back if she was going to help find the people responsible for taking Blake’s life. And she couldn’t do that leaning on Jax.

  She pulled away and avoided his eyes as she walked to the door, needing to put some space between them and the memories of the gentler side of Jax she’d seen last night. Their kiss was still fresh, drawing her in, confusing her, and making her feel again. She wasn’t ready to feel.

  “You must have left early this morning. I called, but you didn’t answer.” His words stopped her before she could escape. There was hesitation in his tone. He sounded uncertain. Impossible surely, from the man who’d held her as she’d cried at Blake’s memorial service while never shedding a tear himself.

  She forced herself to face him once more. His solemn expression made him look almost vulnerable. Exposed. “I went for a run, then showered and came here. I guess I missed your call.” Had Blake’s death cost him his edge as well?

  He broke eye contact and nodded, the old Jax returning. Maybe it was her imagination.

  “How can I help with the case?” she asked, making herself remain.

  He moved behind his desk. “Erin, I know you want to be part of this, but you can’t. You were too close to Blake. I’m not sure you can be objective.”

  Objective? Of course, she wasn’t objective. “That’s not fair and you know it. You and Blake were like brothers. I want to find his killers every bit as much as you do.”

  “I know you do, and we can use your help. I just can’t let you go out in the field. It’s too soon,” he added when she would have protested the point. “I want you to go over the information we have leading up to that day. Everything we know so far. Finding Blake’s asset is imperative. We missed something, Erin. The answers are there. Find them.”

  ◆◆◆

  You must have left early this morning. I called, but you didn’t answer.

  He waited until the door closed behind her to let go of the breath he’d held inside, his whole body cringing at that foolish statement. Why had he told her that? He knew the score. Where they stood with each other. There could be no future for them. She’d needed him to help ease the pain. When she was strong again—and she would be soon—he’d go back to being her commander. Erin thought he shared the same wish. She had no idea it was different for him. If he was smart, she never would.

  Every day, he missed Blake’s quiet strength. His best friend was dead, killed while serving his country, and all Jax could think about was a woman whose only reason for associating with him beyond work was to make her pain bearable. He didn’t much like the reasons, but he’d take her any way he could get her.

  Staring into space, he realized he should be pushing to get his team on the ground in Afghanistan again. Working assets. Getting leads on Al Hasan, the man the CIA believed responsible for Blake’s death, before the trail went ice cold, and it was well on its way there now. Instead, Erin was there in his head, a constant torment, and she was a subordinate at that. A romantic entanglement was the last thing he needed right now.

  He sat at the desk he’d occupied since returning stateside and took the worn Bible from his backpack. Today, with his thoughts in turmoil, he desired the strength he’d always found in God’s word now more than ever.

  “I need Your peace,” he whispered, then opened the Book to his favorite verses.

  Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me.

  In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.

  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

  He sat back and let the calming words wash over him.

  A single knock sounded before his door opened. Dylan poked his head in. “I had to pull a whole lot of strings, but I got you a meeting at the Afghan Embassy with the ambassador’s driver at one.”

  Jax blew out an impressed whistle. He knew how difficult the task was. “That couldn’t have been easy. What’s the man’s name?” Jax dug through the desk drawer and found paper and pen.

  “Ahmed Sediqi.”

  He did his best to spell the name correctly. “Great. I don’t even want to know how you managed to pull that off, but thank you.”

  Dylan gave him a two-fingered salute before closing the door onc
e more, and Jax stuffed the paper in his pocket.

  He picked up the photo on his desk that was taken maybe a year earlier in Kandahar. It was his constant reminder, along with the emptiness he felt inside, of how much he’d lost—they’d all lost—to a war that so far couldn’t be won.

  The photo showed the six of them, as it was in so many cases. Kabir, then Jax standing next to Blake who was being his usual goofy self and making the peace sign above Erin’s head. Well aware of her partner’s antics, Erin was trying hard to keep a straight face. Dylan and Sam were in the background. They were all dressed in military fatigues. It was there, after a raid on a known terrorist hideout, that they’d found the crucial piece of evidence that would lead them to the safe house outside Belzadah, thanks to Blake’s asset . . . and now the lead was responsible for Blake’s death.

  Since that dreadful day, Jax often wondered if perhaps Blake had some premonition about his future. He’d been . . . different.

  A few days before they left on the mission, Blake had pulled him aside. Jax couldn’t dismiss what he’d said that day. At first, Blake was so serious that Jax thought Blake might be about to ask him how long he’d been in love with Erin. He’d been expecting that question for a while.

  They were hunkered down outside of Belzadah in the mountains. It was one of the longest nights of their lives. Until that final one.

  “Jax, you need to pull Erin off this mission,” Blake had said unexpectedly.

  The statement wasn’t anything close to what he’d expected. “Why?” he asked, startled by the request that was so unlike Blake.

  Blake looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. Another out-of-character gesture. Blake was the most in-your-face type of guy Jax had ever met. “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Call it a feeling, but just do it. You can order her off if you want. Tell her she’s needed on another case. Tell her whatever you want, but don’t let her go with me on this meet.”

  Baffled, Jax said, “I can’t do that, and you know it. We need her. You know we barely have enough people to perform this mission as it is. I can’t pull one of our best agents from a critical mission when we’re so close to finishing. What’s going on with you?”