by Rachel Dylan
“That’s probably for the best,” she replied softly.
He nodded. “Yes, but it also means we’ll have to make time to see each other.”
Bailey looked up at him with her bright eyes. “I’ve learned something over the past few years. If something is truly important to you, then you’ll make time for it.”
“Have you made time for anyone else while you’ve been an agent?” The question came out of his mouth before he’d thought it through.
She shook her head. “No, not in the romantic sense. But I have made time for Viv and Layla. They’ve become my family, and it’s critical that I spend time with them. They’ve shown me what it really means to love and be there for one another. You saw them in the hospital, how quickly they were there when I needed them.”
“That’s really special to have friends like that in your life. And I agree with you. We’ll make the time. I am making that commitment to you now. I just don’t want you to overthink things.”
Bailey laughed. “What ever gave you the idea that I would overthink?”
“Pretty much everything about you, but I’m spontaneous enough for the both of us. How does that sound?” He hoped he wasn’t pushing too much too fast, but for some reason he needed a measure of validation from her that she was in this too. He couldn’t deny that his feelings had only been amplified by the dangerous situation they’d found themselves in, but nonetheless he still knew what he wanted. He wanted Bailey.
“Let’s get this case wrapped up, and then we’ll have plenty of time to make plans.”
Bailey had made it clear from day one that her first priority was the case, and he could respect that. But for him, he’d crossed a line—a dangerous one. His first priority had become her. There was nothing he could do about it except work as hard as he could to close the case.
His phone rang, and he answered it. “Jay, Bailey’s here too, and I’ve got you on speaker.”
“We’re here at Mink’s house, and I can say with certainty that he hasn’t left the country.”
“How do you know that?” Bailey asked.
“Because Cullen Mink is dead.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
That night at the safe house, huddled up on the couch, Bailey eyed Marco as he finished a cup of decaf coffee. They had both agreed that they didn’t need any more caffeine, as they were already running on fumes.
“Someone murdered Mink to stop him from talking to us,” Bailey said. “The only problem is that I’m not sure we can just tie this all up neatly with a bow and assume that one big bad monster is behind everything.”
Marco set down his cup. “I completely agree with you. What if the CIA wanted Mink dead?”
That got an eye roll out of her. “C’mon, Marco. Do you really think they’d kill an American citizen on US soil?”
“I hope not, but we know how messy this has gotten. You need to reach out to your phantom CIA contact and figure out what’s going on.”
She’d already thought about that. Hopefully Layla could shed some light on things. “I will.”
“Is that a phone call you can make, or is there some secret bat signal you send out?” Marco asked.
“I can make a call, but I’m not sure I can have this discussion over an unsecure line. I’ll reach out tonight, though, and then we can figure out how to connect tomorrow.”
“Good.”
She could sense that Marco was still worried that her contact at the Agency was a guy. In a way, she had to admit it was cute, but she didn’t want him to worry for no reason.
“Marco, I can’t tell you who my contact is.”
“I know that.”
She placed her hand on top of his. “But I promise it’s not anyone you should be worried about.”
He smiled. “Are you saying that because you’re not interested in him, or for some other reason?”
Bailey hesitated, trying to figure out how much she could or should say. “I’m not interested. It’s not like that. I promise.”
Marco brought her hand to his lips. “I believe you, Bailey. I trust you. I’d trust you with my life.”
Her breath caught—not just at the honesty of his statement, but also the magnitude. “I don’t really have the words to respond to that.”
“Sometimes words aren’t necessary.”
She couldn’t agree with him more as she reached up and pulled him in for a kiss.
Lexi stared into Derek’s dark eyes. She was plotting and planning and hoped that he wouldn’t think she was crazy.
“You look like you’re on a mission,” he said.
“I am.” Her nails dug into her palms. She couldn’t give him the details of what she knew, and that made this much more difficult. Derek had invited her over to his place to discuss what their next steps would be. And unfortunately, she could only give him bits and pieces of the truth she had learned about the CIA’s involvement in this mess.
Everyone had their own agenda. She wasn’t forgetting her own.
“This is personal for me, Derek. Tobias was loyal to this country to the end. He put his life on the line defending our freedoms. I have to clear his name. That is my duty, and I can’t just let it go.”
Derek’s eyes softened. “I know this is a tough spot to be in. I absolutely hate operating in the dark. As a prosecutor, the need to know all the facts and get to the truth is at the core of my DNA.” He paused. “But I realize we’re living in a very unusual situation, and it’s not of your making. I’m saying all of this because if that means I have to go outside my comfort zone, I will. I want to help you in whatever way I can.”
Lexi knew deep in her gut that he was trustworthy. She didn’t know how this case was going to impact their chance at romance, but he was offering her help, and she wasn’t going to turn it away. “You’re right that I can’t give you a full debrief, but maybe that can be a positive. You aren’t constrained by what I know. We can keep digging into Gomez until we get real answers.”
“I want that too, but I’m also worried about you. The fact that you’re having to hide critical information from me only amplifies my concern. We have to be smart about how we’re going to do this, because I don’t want to arrive at a crime scene and find you there.”
Those words made her throat feel tight, but she couldn’t live in fear. She had a job to do. “We start by doing some recon.”
“On Gomez?”
“Yes. We obviously can’t monitor his moves inside the Pentagon, but I want us on the rest of his comings and goings.”
“Then we need to figure out where he lives.”
She pulled a piece of paper out of her bag. “Already got it.”
“Stakeout?” he asked.
It wasn’t like she was going to be able to sleep anyway. “Yeah.”
“I’m in.”
Lexi had never been on a stakeout, and by the time they had settled in Derek’s car not far from Alex Gomez’s house in Arlington, she wondered if this was a waste of time. She figured they didn’t really have anything to lose.
“So now what?” she asked.
Derek laughed. “We wait.”
Lexi looked down at her watch. It was almost midnight. “We don’t know whether he’s already at home or not.”
Derek turned toward her. “This will help us form a baseline for his behavior.”
“You don’t think this will be resolved quickly?” It was a half question, half statement.
“I doubt it. So it’s best for us to log what we see so we have an accurate record.”
She studied him. “Why do you sound like a stakeout expert?”
“I’m not, but I have been on several as part of cases I’ve worked over the years. I also shadowed a PI years ago because I thought it would be a good experience. I picked up some pointers along the way.”
“Well, at least one of us has a clue what we’re doing.” She was only half joking. She was an experienced lawyer, but this was a bit out of the box for her. Given the
circumstances, though, she didn’t think she had any other choice. While Derek seemed to think this could be a long, drawn-out process, her gut was telling her otherwise. She felt like things were going to come to a head very quickly.
After a couple of hours, she felt her eyelids start to get heavy. But that was when motion at the front door caught her attention. “Derek, look.”
“I’m on it.” He pulled out his phone and started snapping pictures.
A man she didn’t recognize was leaving Gomez’s house. “We should follow him.”
Derek looked at her. “That wasn’t the plan. We stick to Gomez. What if we chase this guy and then it’s a dead end?”
She bit her lip as she considered their options. “All right. We should find out who he is first. We don’t need to be wasting our time. Send me the pics, and I’ll get them to the team.”
He pressed a few keys on his phone. “Sending now.”
Maybe this mystery man was just the break they needed.
Early the next morning, Bailey was surprised when Layla showed up at the safe house, knowing it was time for Marco to pick her up. She was more shocked that Layla would make herself known to Marco, but it appeared she intended to do just that.
Standing in the kitchen, Marco wore a deep frown. “Layla,” he said. “What’re you doing here?” He turned to Bailey. “I thought we agreed to keep this location from everyone—even our friends and family.”
Layla gestured toward the kitchen table. “Maybe it’s best for us all to sit down so we can talk.”
Marco raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something here? Bailey, what’s going on?”
Bailey sat at the table. “Because you are missing something. We’ll explain.”
They all took their seats, and Bailey nodded to Layla. She would let her take the lead.
“Bailey didn’t tell me the location of the safe house. I found it on my own. Marco, I’m about to tell you something that you have to keep in confidence. No one else on the team can know. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said. “Just give it to me straight.”
Bailey exchanged another look with Layla.
“I’m CIA,” Layla said flatly.
Marco’s eyes widened. “Okay. Wow. Just when I think I can’t be shocked by anything else on this case.”
“It’s actually a good thing that you’re surprised,” Bailey said. “It’s really important that Layla keep her cover as a State Department analyst.”
Marco turned to Layla. “Your secret is safe with me. I would never do anything to endanger your work or your safety.”
Layla smiled. “Thank you. Now that we have that out of the way, I understand there’s some stuff we need to talk about.”
“Cullen Mink’s death,” Marco said. “Is there any way the Agency was behind it?”
Layla shook her head. “No, that wasn’t us. But I am authorized to tell you that the CIA does think Mink was a player in this, but that he wasn’t the ringleader. He probably got in over his head and then couldn’t find a way out.”
Marco whistled. “That’s why he was willing to turn over those documents.”
It made sense now. But that left a bigger issue to resolve. “Then who killed Cullen Mink?” Bailey asked.
Layla looked down. “Unfortunately, we don’t know. So we’re all in the dark here. If whoever is behind this was worried that he could be a weak link and flip, then they’d want to take him out just like they took out the other men. I just don’t know whether someone at WSI or the DoD is pulling the strings or who put out the hit.”
“Why all the secrecy?” Marco asked. “What is the Agency hiding?”
Layla shrugged. “There’s always a more complicated story than what appears on face value. I could make some guesses as to what else is going on here, but that is all they would be. At the end of the day, this was an Agency-led operation, and now three highly valued men have been killed. Someone is trying to shift the blame or pass the buck to make sure they don’t take the hit if this ever gets out.”
“That’s not a satisfactory response, and you know it.” Bailey wouldn’t cut her friend any slack.
Layla’s dark eyes met hers. “But it’s the truth. I could sugarcoat it, but I won’t. Not with you.”
“So where does this leave us?” Marco asked.
“From the Agency’s standpoint, the powers that be still want you focused on the murder investigation, but if you can find out what happened to Mink, that would be good too.”
“And they still want us to stay away from the DoD and Gomez?” Bailey asked.
“Yes. They want to handle that internally. These things get really dicey when you’re talking about interagency power plays. I’m not sure who is ultimately calling the shots on my side, but whoever it is has some grave concerns about what is happening at the Pentagon.”
Marco looked at Bailey and then Layla. “Since you’re Bailey’s friend, I assume you know that neither she nor I will just let that go.”
Layla lifted her hands. “I’m just the messenger.”
Bailey needed to say something. “I’m sorry, Layla. I brought you into this, and it isn’t even something that should be on your plate. I don’t want to cause you any more stress and trouble than I have already.”
“I told you before, you never ask for help. I’m glad that I could be here when you needed me. I don’t want you to think another thought about me. I can handle it. Focus on your safety and solving this case.” Layla stood. “Watch your backs. Both of you. No one really knows how deep and wide this could go.”
Those words gave Bailey pause. “I’ll walk you out.” She escorted Layla to the door and gave her a fierce hug. “Thank you again.”
Layla squeezed her shoulders. “I meant what I said back there. I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“We’ll be careful.” Bailey watched as Layla walked out the door. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before rejoining Marco in the kitchen.
He looked up at her from his chair. “Now I feel like a complete idiot for worrying about your CIA contact.”
“There’s no way you could’ve foreseen that. And I appreciate you understanding the importance of Layla’s cover.”
“Absolutely. But you know I have to ask if Viv also works there.” He laughed.
She shook her head. “No. She really is a State Department attorney.”
“You’re not some type of undercover agent, are you?” He smiled.
“No. Although this case makes me feel a lot more like one than I’d like.” Her phone started buzzing. She picked it up and saw a message. “One of my FBI analysts was able to identify the man who visited Gomez last night. It was a bigwig.”
Marco raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Deputy Assistant Secretary Oliver Patterson. He’s Gomez’s boss.”
“Good grief. Are the analysts going to run a background check?”
“Already in process.”
“We’re closing in,” Marco said.
“Are we? I feel like we take two steps forward and then another back. Mink’s murder doesn’t feel right to me. Beyond the obvious that it’s a murder.”
“I hear you, but we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He looked at his watch. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Yeah.” It was going to be another long day.
They were about to head out the door when Marco stopped. “Let me grab a travel mug. I think I’m going to need it today. I’ll be right behind you.”
Bailey picked up her bag and exited the front door of the safe house.
A loud crack pierced the air. It was the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. And they were gunning for her.
When Marco heard the first gunshot, he dropped his mug in the sink and ran toward the front door. As the shots continued to ring out in rapid succession, he prayed that he wouldn’t find Bailey’s dead body riddled with bullets on the other side of the door. Lord, please help her.
He p
ulled his weapon and opened the door for a quick look before taking cover again. Bailey was crouched on the ground, hiding behind the short brick wall surrounding the flowerbed. Her arm was bleeding.
“Bailey, are you okay?” he called.
“Yes, I just got grazed.”
Another rapid set of gunshots rang out. Bailey returned fire.
“Let’s get you back in here. I’ll cover you.” He popped off a few shots.
Bailey stayed low and ran back into the house. He slammed the front door shut, but it wouldn’t provide much protection.
Marco looked her over, making sure she was truly okay. “We’ve got extra firepower in the basement. One of us should go down and get it.”
“I’ll go. You keep them at bay. Call for backup!”
Marco pulled out his phone and took cover in the living room. He started calling as Bailey ran toward the basement. He asked for immediate assistance. “ETA is five to ten minutes,” he called to her.
“How many shooters do you think there are?” she yelled from the basement.
He popped up to look out the living room window. “I count two, but there could be more. They’ve taken cover behind a large black van.”
After a minute, Bailey returned with two more handguns and some extra magazines from the small armory. The two attackers kept firing shots at the house.
She crouched beside Marco in the living room just as the large windowpane shattered at the impact of another bullet. They both ducked reflexively. The gunshots continued, and they returned fire through the gaping window.
One man ran out from behind the van while the other provided cover. The one on the move hid behind the large oak tree in the front yard, changing angles and trying to flank them. He was dressed in camo and moved as if he had expert military training.
“They’re getting closer,” Bailey yelled.
“I know.” Lord, please help us.
“I’m out!”
He slid one of the extra guns to where she was hunkered down, and she grabbed it.
The sound of sirens started to sound in the distance. “I think our help is coming,” he said.
More shots exploded through the air. “Not fast enough,” she said.