by Vicki Hinze
“Gladly.” His lips brushed hers, testing, then settled in and caressed.
When he pulled back, Beth nearly wept. Nothing. She’d felt nothing. How could she be so attracted to Joe and feel nothing?
The hint of a smile curved his lips. “I was getting worried.”
He was oblivious. Joe was never oblivious. Confused and disappointed, she wasn’t sure what to say or do. “No, I’m not immune to you.”
“Didn’t you get the message that the funeral was delayed?”
“I did.” Jerked from the disappointment haze, her worry returned with a fury. “Nora!”
“What about her?”
“She isn’t answering my calls.”
“Is that unusual?”
“You know it’s extremely unusual.” What was wrong with him? As much as they’d talked about Nora, how could he not remember that? Men.
Unfair. He’s got a lot on his mind. Beth pushed aside a mystery of the ages and started walking. “I’m going to check on her.” She thumbed the SUV’s remote entry. The locks clicked and she opened the door.
“I’ll ride with you. If there’s trouble, you shouldn’t go alone.” When they were seated inside, he buckled up, then said, “Beth, I have something to tell you.”
“About what happened at the cemetery?” She keyed the engine. It roared to life.
“That too.”
At least he wasn’t denying that something had happened out there. What else could possibly …? His case. “Did you find a connection in your case with Robert?”
He frowned, hesitated, then ignored her question and turned the subject. “A man named Paul Clement contacted me.”
Beth slid the gearshift into Drive and pulled out. “Never heard of him.”
“He claims he has critical information on Robert. He wants a million dollars for it.”
“Scam artist?” They were coming out of the woodwork like roaches. “Mel—the receptionist at Crossroads Crisis Center—has nixed at least two extortion attempts.”
“He says he has proof Robert is alive.”
Braked at the stop sign, Beth stilled. Joe had a lot of contacts still active in the intelligence community—a lot more than she had from her assists at Quantico. His Thomas Boudin persona was a former OSI agent. He had contacts too. “Did you check him out?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t the kidnapper. Clement was in Angola then.”
“Angola? What could a guy in southwest Africa—”
“Wrong Angola. Clement was in the Louisiana State Penitentiary.”
Prison. Beth hit the gas, pulled out into traffic. “He heard something there?”
“Doubtful. He was in solitary confinement.” Regret shone in Joe’s eyes. “I’ve beaten the bushes, knocked off every leaf, and come up with nothing.”
“What was he in jail for?”
“Cybercrimes. He’s a hacker.”
Odd that Beth hadn’t heard of him. Notable hackers were on her radar. “NINA related?”
Joe stilled. Blinked. Then blinked again. “No connection I can find.”
“Then why do you think he could be credible?” Pulling into Nora’s slot in the Towers’s parking lot, Beth cut the engine, then turned in her seat to face him.
Her phone rang.
Her special phone. Joe. Joe?
How could that be? He was sitting right beside her.
Or was he?
She gave the man beside her an exasperated look. “I’ve got to take this call.” She scrambled out of the car and stepped out of earshot. “Hello?” Her heart thundered.
“Hi, gorgeous.”
It beat harder, pounding against her ribs, echoing in her temples. “Joe?”
“Sorry I couldn’t get back to you sooner. I ran into trouble.”
“Tell me in a second.” Did she trust her eyes or her ears? Help me! “Something strange is happening.” Understatement of the year. Her ear burned; trust the phone. “I’m in a pickle, Joe.”
All the lightness left his voice. “What’s going on?”
She looked back but didn’t see Thomas. “Is your real name Thomas Boudin?”
“Why?”
“Would you just answer me? I told you, I’m in trouble—immediate trouble.”
“I use it.”
“And you’re doing whatever you’re doing in disguise because NINA is after you?”
“Yes. Beth, what is—?”
“Things are worse than I thought then.” Her hand shook hard.
“Stop and tell me what’s happening.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m with you—well, I thought it was you in disguise, right now, at the Towers, checking on Nora. She’s not answering her phone. Only it can’t be you because you’re on the phone with me. Robert’s dead, Sara’s acting like an alien’s invaded her body—”
“Stop. Wait. You’re with me?”
“I thought it was you. Obviously it’s not.”
“Get away. Now, Beth. Whoever he is, he’s probably NINA.”
“But Nora—”
“You can’t help her if you’re dead. Run. Do you see any people?”
She scanned. “No.”
“Businesses? Get to a business.”
“There aren’t any.”
“Hide!”
Parked cars. She could hide among the cars. There wasn’t even a decent-sized tree or bush she could use for cover. “I need to tell you—in case.”
“Hide, sha. I’m on my way, but—”
He needed to know. “Something’s going on at the cemetery.”
“I know that. Will you stop this and hide so I can breathe again?”
“Joe, when I thought I was talking to you, I told … whoever he is … that I found a connection between the club attack and Robert.”
“What connection?”
“Sara refused to take anything from Quantico. She told Margaret to send all of it to me and not even to let her know when something came in.”
“NINA’s pressuring her. And they went after Robert to force her to play ball.”
“That was my thought, but define play ball.”
“Get them intelligence information from Quantico.”
“We’re on the same page. I’m glad this guy with me isn’t you.”
“You’re making me crazy, Beth. Are you hiding?”
“I’m looking for a place. Why does everyone drive little cars these days?”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of? I don’t understand.”
“He kissed me. I felt nothing. Nothing, Joe. I thought he was you and felt nothing.” That had hurt.
“But it wasn’t me, so that’s good news. Are you hidden yet?”
Her feet hit a hollow spot in the pavement, jamming her ankle. Pain shot up her leg. “On my way to the far end of the parking lot.”
“What’s wrong? Your voice sounds funny. You’re hurt.”
“I just hit a pothole. Turned my ankle.” Adrenaline shoved through her veins. NINA. He could be NINA and he’d kissed her? She shuddered. Steaming hot and ice-cold. Nowhere to go. Nowhere!
“Think steel, sha.”
Think steel. Think steel. She kept moving. “Who in NINA would pretend to be you?”
“Too many to guess.”
All bad. “I recognized you at Sara’s house. So when you—he—approached me outside Sara’s, I assumed he was you, well, except his hair was darker.” She looked around. “I don’t see him now. Do you really think he could be NINA?”
“I do.” His voice cracked. “I’m coming as fast as I can. If he should find you, act normal. Don’t let him know you’re on to him.”
“I don’t see—wait, he’s coming back. He was inside the Towers.” She shuddered. “I can’t make it anywhere. I’ve got to get back and talk fast.” She made a U-turn.
“No. Don’t go back!”
“I have to if I’m going to act normal, and you’re going to get him, Joe.”
“No way. Forget it, Beth. You’re no
t bait.”
She ignored him. “He said a man named Paul Clement—he was in jail in Louisiana, Angola—has proof Robert’s alive and he wants a million dollars for it.”
“You went back. Beth, why did you go back?”
“You know why.”
“We’re going to have a serious discussion about this, woman.”
“I look forward to it.” She’d love to be alive for that. “What about Clement?”
“I don’t believe it. Robert bled out. Clement’s trying to hose you or Sara. Don’t get back in the car with this guy. I mean it. You do, and you’re as good as dead. You hear me?”
“Joe, people in Mexico can hear you.”
“Then you hear and listen. Delay or stall—whatever—but don’t get in that car. I’m calling Mark and Jeff now.”
“He’s almost here. Hurry.”
“Keep the line open but don’t let him know you’re still on the phone.”
She stuffed the phone into her pocket, so scared she could scarcely breathe.
The fake Thomas Boudin walked the last three car lengths to join her. “Nora’s fine. She just needed a break from Nathara.” He smiled. “She was getting into the shower and said she’d call you in fifteen minutes.”
He was lying. Nora showered and dressed an hour ago, just as the rest of them had; Beth would bank on it. “Great. I’ll just hang out for a bit, then run up to see her.”
“She’s fine, Beth. I saw her myself.”
“But I’m not. I need to talk to her about Sara.” As she talked, Beth inched back toward the car. “She’s grieving really hard and I need tips to help her.” She jerked open the car door, threw herself inside, slammed then locked the doors.
The fake Thomas yanked at the door and beat on the window. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”
Beth fumbled the keys. Dove for them, then keyed the engine. He got behind her so she couldn’t back up. “Move!” she shouted through the glass. “I mean it.”
He stayed in place.
She blasted her horn, hoping to snag someone’s attention, then popped the gas. He dove out of the way, rolling over a sidewalk and onto a patch of grass. Stomping the accelerator, Beth took off down the street, her tires screeching, churning smoke, and darted her gaze to the rearview mirror. He was chasing her car down the street.
“I’m okay, Joe, but he’s coming after me on foot. I’m in the SUV,” she said, not taking her special phone out of her pocket. Out of reach and shaking hard, she fumbled for her regular cell phone. “Calling Nora so she won’t open her door.”
The phone rang and rang, but Nora didn’t answer …
Darla stared at Nora’s bedroom door.
Kill her.
Her throat tight, Darla scanned the apartment. There wasn’t anything in it that hadn’t been destroyed. Tack Grady was merciless. NINA would appreciate that.
“Kill her somewhere else, then get to Sara’s before you’re missed.”
Those were her orders, but images of the Crossroads chapel filled her mind. She’d been so peaceful there. So sure that if there were a chance God would ever hear her, it’d be at its tiny altar. She had poured out her heart to Him but felt … nothing. Still, she knew Beth hadn’t lied. She wasn’t beyond redemption. Maybe her heart hadn’t been right? Something? But now, now she desperately needed Him and His help. Tears blurred her eyes.
God, I meant every word I said. I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done. I know I don’t deserve Your forgiveness, but I’m begging You for it. I’m begging You to help me. I don’t know what to do. I can’t undo what I’ve done. There’s no way to make things right. If I don’t kill her, they will—and they’ll kill me too. Help me. Please, help me. I don’t want to hurt Nora. I don’t want to ever hurt anyone ever again. I want what they have—the Crossroads people. They know You, and You know them. I want to know You, and if You can forgive me, I want You to know me. To make me into someone—anyone You want. Please, God. Please …
Warmth flooded Darla’s body. She closed her eyes and let it wash through her, welcoming the most unusual sensation she’d ever in her life experienced. Love.
Unconditional love …
Darla’s knees folded. She collapsed to the floor amid the clutter and wept in earnest.
A long while later, Darla stood and rushed into Nora’s bedroom on wobbly feet. Nora sat on a kitchen chair, silver duct tape over her mouth, her arms and ankles tied. Fear burned in her eyes, a fear as deep as Darla felt churning inside her. “Don’t scream,” Darla said. When Nora nodded, Darla removed the duct tape.
“Where’s Nathara and Tack Grady, that dirty dog?”
“Sara’s.” Working the ropes loose, Darla helped Nora to her feet. “You okay?”
“Madder than a wet hen, I’m thinking.” She shoved at the rope. “Are you gonna kill me, Darla Green?”
She stilled. Her eyes burned, blurred with tears. “I don’t have any choice.”
16
At the corner of Highway 90, a siren wailed.
Beth pulled off the road and stopped, still dialing and redialing Nora, and still getting no answer.
A motorcycle whipped in beside her car. Boudin! She started to take off.
“Beth, it’s me, Joe!”
Joe. Lighter hair. She studied his eyes, then hopped out of the car and rushed into his arms. He pulled her close, his body shaking. She pulled back. “Kiss me. Right now, Joseph!”
Joe touched his lips to hers, and Beth’s world tilted on its axis. A sign. They were everywhere. In his gentle hands, his quaking body, his tender lips. He was Joe. And Joe was the one. She forced herself to pull back, nuzzled her face at his chest, felt his heart thunder under her cheek. “It’s you.” The urge to weep nearly overwhelmed her.
He lifted her chin with a gentle fingertip, studied her face. “You’re okay, and you’re not immune.”
She smiled. “I’m definitely not immune.”
He smiled back. “Me either, sha. I’ve never been more not immune in my life.”
Beth hugged him hard. “I was so scared.”
“Of the fake Thomas or of kissing me?”
“Both.”
His gaze passed her, scanned the street. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He was chasing me on foot last I saw him.” She pulled back to look up into his face. “I—I should have known he wasn’t you. He didn’t know what you do about Nora. I didn’t look closely enough at his eyes. He had on contacts. I got hung up on that.” She should let him go, but she couldn’t make herself do it.
A black Tahoe whipped around the corner and skidded to a stop.
Joe shoved her away from him, lifted his hands. “It’s me, Jeff.”
The barrel of Jeff’s gun glinted at the tinted window. It slid down. “Is it Joe, Beth?”
“Yes,” she said on a rushed breath.
The gun disappeared from view. “Where’s Nora?”
“He said she was in the shower. I—don’t know. I didn’t see her.” Beth dragged a hand through her hair. “She’s not answering the phone.”
“Step away from her,” he told Joe.
Beth stepped forward, toward the Tahoe. “What are you doing? I told you …”
Jeff shoved her aside, knocking her off her feet, aiming his weapon at Joe. “What’s the code?”
“Think steel.”
Only a select few intimate with the Shadow Watchers would know think steel. Beth breathed easier. Got to her feet and stepped back to Joe.
“Sorry about that. I had to be sure.” Jeff lowered his weapon. “Where’s the imposter?”
“I don’t know, but he’s wearing a suit, not jeans like Joe.” She grabbed a hank of her own hair. “And his hair is a lot darker. Flat, inky black.”
“Who is he?” Jeff asked Joe.
“No idea.”
Jeff blew out a sharp breath. “Have you called Nora?”
She’d told him Nora wasn’t answering her phone. Scared. Upset. That had to be
why he was so scattered. “Can’t reach her. He said she was taking a shower, then she’d call.”
Joe parked his Harley in the grass off the side of the road. “Get in the car and scoot over, sha.” She did and Joe slid in behind the wheel. “Go, Jeff. Nora’s at risk.”
Jeff pulled out, calling for backup.
At first chance, Joe whipped Beth’s car around and followed Jeff. “We’ve got a lot of talking to do.”
“Yes, we do. But not now. Focus.” Beth spoke her deepest fear. “The fake Thomas has to be NINA. Maybe Karl Masson.” And he’d been in her car. She shivered.
“NINA, maybe. But he’s not Masson.”
Something in his voice had her looking at him. “How do you know?”
“Masson is dead. That’s why I’ve been tied up. I found his body in the cove.”
Could this mess get any more twisted? “What happened to him?”
“Shot. Hank Green is examining his body now.”
“Did you shoot him?”
“No.”
“There’s a but after that no.” She sensed it. “What is it?”
“I can’t say right now.” He spared her a glance. “When I can, I’ll tell you.”
“Is he the reason the funeral was delayed?”
“No. It was another attack. Chemical dispersants. Preliminary reports are that it’s the same chemical used in the club attack. No secondary confirmation yet. We caught it before they could activate.”
Which meant NINA likely did both. Beth clasped Joe’s hand, squeezed tight. “Why is NINA playing with us like this?” Beth thought a second. “This show of force means they want something from one of us and they’re not getting it. It’s an intimidation tactic to incite fear.” Beth sighed. “It’s Sara. I know it is. They want information she can access at Quantico.”
“NINA can get to Quantico direct. It doesn’t need Sara. It has operatives and tentacles everywhere.”
“Some people can get to some things at Quantico. Sara and I can get to everything.”
“That does make targeting either of you efficient for them.”
“Yes, it does.” Beth’s mind reeled, trying to make all this logical. “Sara’s scared. But even for Robert she wouldn’t give them anything.”
“So maybe these attacks are window dressing, proving they can kill anytime they choose.”