Failsafe

by Traci Hunter Abramson

  “If you’re sure . . .”

  “I’m sure.” He took a step toward the door. “You can take some of the stuff into your room or leave everything in here and come get things as you need them.”

  “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m going to head back out to my apartment to get some more work done. I’ll see you at dinner.” He was already in the hall before he thought to turn around and ask, “Are you okay with fixing meals as part of your job here?”

  “Of course.” A touch of a smile illuminated her face when she added, “As long as you don’t mind me enlisting your grandmother’s help.”

  Jake let out a bark of laughter. “As long as she’s supervised.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chapter 18

  Charlotte waited until she heard Jake reach the bottom of the stairs before she wandered into his parents’ closet. She didn’t know what was stranger, the idea of wearing his dead mother’s clothes or her newfound knowledge that Jake had lost his parents within days of the shooting. She could hardly believe she had stumbled across a safe haven such as this only to find the residents mourning a similar loss.

  Trying not to feel awkward, she opened one of the lower drawers and then another. It took her only two tries to find a selection of T-shirts. She drew out a plain white one and crossed to the closet in search of something more in line with today’s styles. Besides not being terribly comfortable, the prairie skirt she was currently wearing made her feel a hundred years old.

  Charlotte looked through the jeans hanging on what was clearly Jake’s mother’s side of the closet and selected two pairs that looked like they might fit, along with a plaid flannel shirt. She started to leave the bedroom when she noticed an antique rocking chair beside the bed.

  The fragment of an image crept out of some forgotten corner of her memory—a Raggedy Ann doll clutched in her arms, the scent of roses lingering around her, and the security of a woman’s weathered hand holding her securely on her lap as they rocked back and forth in an old wooden chair.

  Charlotte hugged the clothing to her chest, not daring to move as she fought to expand the image. Black patent shoes on her child-sized feet, the hem of a red dress with little yellow flowers dotting the material. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t see beyond the narrow glimpse of that long-forgotten moment.

  Questions filled her mind. Where had she been? Who had been holding her? She was relatively certain the memory was from before she had gone to live with her adoptive parents, but beyond that, she couldn’t place any details. Never before had she recalled a memory from her life before the farm in Pennsylvania.

  She heard movement in the living room below. Suspecting Abigail had woken from her nap, Charlotte quickly went into her own bedroom to change. The jeans were a little baggy, but when she put the flannel shirt over the T-shirt, the gap at the waist was no longer visible. She thought of going to look for a belt but didn’t feel comfortable leaving Abigail alone for long, especially now that she had officially agreed to take responsibility for her.

  Hurrying downstairs, she found Jake’s grandmother sitting in her favorite chair, a thick notebook in her hands. Grandmother. The word replayed in her mind, and the earlier memory resurfaced, now with a startling clarity. The woman’s white hair tickled against her cheek, her voice low and sweet as she sang something in an unfamiliar tongue.

  “Oh, there you are,” Abigail said, looking up at Charlotte. “I thought you might want to take a look at this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the history of this family. Come sit down, and I’ll tell you about it.”

  Charlotte took a seat beside Abigail, listening patiently as the woman told the story of how this house had been constructed before the Civil War and outlining the various members on the family tree. Charlotte felt a strange sense of longing; what must it be like to know so much of one’s history? “What are these?” Charlotte asked, pointing to some documents contained in page protectors.

  “Birth certificates, death certificates, marriage certificates.” Abigail pointed out her own marriage certificate. “I used to have to send away for all of these, but now there’s a nice lady in town who helps me print off the ones I don’t already have. Why, she even helped me find a cousin in Albuquerque, New Mexico, that I didn’t even know about.”

  “Really?” Charlotte was fascinated in spite of herself.

  Abigail nodded. “I used to do a lot of the research myself, but my eyes have gotten so bad that it’s hard to see the little print on the computer screen.” She shifted and looked up at Charlotte. “Maybe you can help me with it now. That way I won’t have to bother poor Carrie all the time.”

  “I’d be happy to help you,” Charlotte said, surprised to find herself looking forward to the prospect.

  * * *

  “What’s all this?” Kade asked as he walked into the office Ace had set up in the safe house.

  “This is a history lesson.” Ace waved a hand at the whiteboard mounted to the wall. “Somewhere in all of this is the answer to who killed Dwight. Since the crime scene photos and police report seem to confirm our suspicions that someone was after the guardian database, I have to think we’re looking for someone who has been associated with the guardian program in the past.”

  Kade looked at the names. At the top was Jonah Richardson. Below him, two names were listed like an organizational chart—Dwight Martin on the left and Felix Werthcamp on the right. Kurt Dorsey’s name was listed just below Dwight’s.

  “Walk me through it.” Kade dropped onto one of the two chairs facing the display. “I assume Jonah Richardson is the person who started this program.”

  Ace spoke in the same tone a teacher would when giving a lecture. “He’s the one who developed the secure database for the guardian program. He was killed shortly before it was launched.”

  “Did his death have anything to do with the program?”

  “We think so. He and his family died in a car accident, but evidence indicates that someone ran them off the road.”

  “Then maybe we need to start from there.” Kade leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Who knew about guardian?”

  “The only people who knew about it at the time were Richardson, Dwight Martin, and Felix Werthcamp.” Ace took the seat beside him. “It’s unlikely Dwight was behind it. He’s been running this program the whole time, and Richardson was his best friend.”

  “What about Werthcamp?”

  “That’s just it. He died just a few months after the Richardsons.”

  “How?”

  “It was another car accident. There were suspicions that someone killed him and Richardson to keep the database from being launched. We thought it was someone involved in funding the program, but we never found any evidence to support that. We did a thorough investigation of Senator Spalding’s office, where our funding channels through, and his security was impressive. He handles all of the work himself, refusing to let any of his staff have access just to make sure there aren’t any leaks.”

  Kade stared at the board, tapping his fingers impatiently. “You were the first ghost. Is there anyone else you can think of who could be involved?”

  “I don’t know. Our first NSA contact retired about four years ago. His replacement, Ken Holtz, is the only new person in the program.” He hesitated before adding, “And, technically, the seven guardians aren’t the only ghosts. There’s one who came before me.”

  “Who’s that? I always thought you were the first.”

  “The person we have to protect now. Charlotte Martin.”

  Kade straightened. “Charlotte? But she’s only twenty-four, and she didn’t start training to work on the program until after she graduated from college.”

  Ace drew in a breath as he struggled to form the words that would share one of the most highly guarded secrets in the government. “Charlotte is more than an employee. She’s the key.”<
br />
  “The key?”

  “The system lockdown. The only key that can unlock the system now is Charlotte.”

  “What? Are you serious?” Kade asked, astonished. When Ace simply nodded, Kade asked, “How did she end up being the key? I thought it had been programmed into the system when it was first created over twenty years ago.”

  “It was. Charlotte Martin isn’t her real name. It’s Hannah Richardson.”

  Kade’s voice was incredulous. “Richardson’s daughter?”

  “Exactly. When he developed the program, he put in biometric keys. He knew he couldn’t use himself, or the system would be too vulnerable. With the program still in the developmental stages, he used the one person no one would ever suspect: his baby girl, a child no one knew existed. Her fingerprint and retinal scan are needed to unlock the system.”

  Silence filled the room for a moment until Kade spoke the words neither of them wanted to consider. “Then, technically, they don’t need her alive.”

  “They might think that, but there’s another safeguard in place. She also has to put in a password.”

  “Does she know she’s the key?”

  “No,” Ace said, wishing he had pressed Dwight a little harder on that decision. “She knows she carries the failsafe password, but Dwight insisted her true identity be protected while she was growing up. He planned to tell her on her twenty-fifth birthday, right before he retired.”

  Kade pushed out of his seat and paced across the room, stopping to stand beside the whiteboard. After a moment, he turned back to Ace. “You realize that if we don’t get this system up and running in the next couple months, funding is going to run out. All of us won’t have a choice but to find new sources of income, and that will make us vulnerable.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of that. The other concern is that we won’t have anyone overseeing our intelligence sources to make sure we don’t have any conflicts or friendly-fire scenarios,” Ace told him. “We have to find her, but we have to do it so our search can’t be traced.”

  “We are experts in that.” The confidence in Kade’s voice reminded Ace of the younger man’s skills in that particular area. “What about these other names? We know Kurt was taking over for Dwight. Who else knows about this program besides the guardians?”

  “Only three people besides us know about the guardians database program: Ken Holtz from NSA oversees the equipment Dwight used to maintain the program. Another is José Perez, from CIA. He handles all the budgeting and helps us procure our operational equipment. The third is Senator Spalding.”

  “What about our military connections?”

  “All of those are handled through the CIA,” Ace said. “The assets you handle know who you are, but none of them would know anyone beyond their one contact.”

  “What about the other guardians?”

  “I got a secure message from Cas last night. She found no record of any breaches for her identity. Neither did Troy.”

  “What about the other three?” Kade asked.

  “I haven’t heard from them yet, but I have a hard time believing the leak could have come from one of us.”

  “I agree, but it had to come from somewhere.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Ace said resolutely. “If we’re going to protect Charlotte, we don’t have any other choice.”

  Chapter 19

  Jake nearly worked through dinner. His characters were taking on lives and opinions of their own, and he was afraid if he left them alone too long, they might disappear and ruin his plans to write this particular novel.

  His grumbling stomach and a reminder on his computer screen to charge his laptop convinced him it was time to take a break. Feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t checked in with Max all day, he walked out his back door and headed for the stables. He took several steps across the flagstone patio before he saw his grandmother in the gardens.

  He took a step in her direction, but when he caught a glimpse of the figure kneeling down by a bed of posies, his heart nearly stopped. Her hair was pulled back in a loose braid, and she wore a red flannel shirt over faded blue jeans. For a moment, he could have sworn he was staring at a younger version of his mother.

  When he had offered Hannah the use of his mother’s clothes, he hadn’t considered how much the two women resembled each other. Besides being thirty years his mother’s junior, Hannah wasn’t quite as tall as his mother, as evidenced by the way the jeans were rolled up at the bottom. When braided, though, her long hair made the two women look eerily similar, and Jake couldn’t count the number of times he had found his mother tending to the flowers just as Hannah was doing right now.

  It wasn’t his mother, he told himself, repeating the sentiment in his mind as he tried to shake off the sudden shakiness and the tightness in his chest.

  Hannah must have sensed his presence because she stood quickly and turned to face him. He thought he saw a moment of panic reflected on her face, but it quickly left. Her hands were covered by a pair of his grandmother’s gardening gloves, and she held a small spade in her hand. “Dinner is in the oven, but it won’t be ready for another half hour,” she said, taking a step toward him. “I hope that’s okay. Miss Abigail wanted some fresh flowers for the table.”

  “That’s fine,” he said, still unnerved. “I was headed to the barn to check in with Max.”

  “I was going to ask you if you would mind spending a few minutes with your grandmother after dinner. I wanted to check on my horse.”

  “Why don’t you walk over with me now?” Jake saw the concern on Hannah’s face when she glanced in his grandmother’s direction. “She’ll be fine alone for a few minutes, especially if dinner is already made.”

  “Are you sure?” she asked, still hesitant.

  Jake nodded. “Hey, Grandma,” he called out. “Hannah and I are going over to the stables for a few minutes. We’ll be right back, okay?”

  “Okay, dear,” she said, her attention on her flowers.

  “How has everything been going today?” Jake asked Charlotte as he led the way toward the stables.

  “Good. She’s had a good day.” Her eyes lit up when she added, “She was teaching me how to use your dad’s computer.”

  “Teaching you, huh?” Jake found the image endearing. The little old lady teaching a woman in her twenties, who had undoubtedly grown up with computer technology. A smile tugged at his lips.

  “I was actually impressed with how much she knows,” Charlotte admitted with a laugh.

  “You must have been working on genealogy.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “She loves that stuff. It’s also the only thing she uses the computer for.”

  “We were looking at your family history today. It must be amazing to know so much about your ancestors and to know they grew up in the same house you live in today.”

  “I don’t really live here. Not anymore.”

  “You don’t?” Her eyebrows drew together. “Where do you live?”

  “New York.” Jake debated how much to share with Hannah and decided it wouldn’t hurt for her to understand his current dilemma. “When my parents died, I was named trustee for my grandma’s trust, which also means I’m responsible for her care.”

  “You moved here so she could stay,” Hannah concluded. “That’s really sweet of you.”

  “It’s just temporary,” Jake said, not sure he was ready to accept her altruistic view of him. “I haven’t really figured out what I’m going to do for the long-term.”

  She didn’t speak again until they reached the stable doors. “What exactly do you do for a living?”

  “I’m an author,” Jake said, never tiring of the thrill that came from saying those words.

  “Oh. I thought you were an artist of some sort.”

  “An artist?”

  “Yeah. When I met Desiree, she thought I was your model, and you were talking about your studio, so I assumed . . .”

  “She probably thought you were
modeling for the cover of my next book. I’m a writer. At least, at the moment I’m trying to be.” Jake led the way into the barn. “My dad always thought I could do both, manage the farm and do what I love.”

  “I know farming is a full-time job and then some. I can’t imagine you would have much time left over at the end of the day to write.”

  “Exactly. I think my dad was finally coming around to that fact . . .” Jake’s voice trailed off. He stopped by the first stall, waiting for Hannah’s horse to wander toward him. He felt his chest tighten with words he needed to say but didn’t want to hear. “They were coming to see me when they died.”

  He expected her to express her condolences, to say their deaths weren’t his fault. He heard her move closer, but when she remained silent, he turned to face her. The tears shimmering in her eyes surprised him and accurately reflected the burning emotions churning inside him.

  “Do you think the hurt will ever go away?” she asked softly.

  “I don’t know.” Recognizing her suffering and struck by his own sudden need for comfort, he reached out, relieved when she stepped into the embrace. She laid her head against his shoulder, her arms coming around his waist. They stood there while a minute stretched into two.

  It was odd, he thought, that he had been surrounded by family at his parents’ funeral, and yet the person who seemed most able to give him comfort was someone who had never met his mom and dad. Jake felt his throat constrict, and he couldn’t manage to find any more words.

  Charlotte’s voice was raspy when she whispered, “I hear time is supposed to heal all wounds.”

  Jake shifted away so he could see her face, strangely reassured by the odd connection between them. Tears had spilled over and streaked down her face. He lifted a hand and wiped a tear away without thinking. “I hope so.”

  Movement behind them made him drop his arms away and take a step back. When he turned, he saw Max staring at them from the doorway, his face pale.

  Hannah lifted both hands to wipe the remaining moisture from her cheeks. She took a quick glance at her horse, patting its neck before taking a step toward the door. “I should go check on dinner and make sure your grandma is okay.”