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Miss Fairmont and The Gentleman Investigator

Page 16

by Pat White


  She curled up next to him and watched him breathe, slow and steady. He looked so peaceful.

  Her stomach was tied in knots. Even after all the preparation, all the explanation of listening devices and exact location of agents, Grace was nervous as hell about luring Harry Franklin in for the capture.

  In truth, she now wished Bobby would come with her.

  “Bobby,” she whispered.

  He didn’t respond. She should try harder to wake him.

  Then he’d be more determined to come with and she knew the agents didn’t want Bobby messing up the plan. What had Bobby said? That his feelings for her would get in the way of him protecting her?

  Her feelings for Bobby would surely distract her if he was with her tonight. No, doing this alone felt right and good.

  It would finally put an end to her soul-searching about her mother.

  She’d finally have peace.

  “I’m going to make it right, Mom,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.

  She was starting to understand why Mom had left her and Dad—for their own safety. To a certain degree, that’s why she was leaving Bobby behind.

  To think that there were some sins you couldn’t leave behind, no matter how much you wanted to. But Grace would end this chapter of Mom’s history by repairing her honor. Then Grace would move on and build a new life, hopefully with the man sleeping beside her.

  It was strange, but a rush of excitement filled her chest at the thought of helping track down terrorists. She felt she was doing something honorable for potential victims. She could see why Bobby had chosen the profession he had. He wanted to make a difference and keep people safe.

  There was a soft knock and the door cracked open. “We’re leaving in fifteen minutes,” Anne whispered.

  Grace nodded and placed her hand to Bobby’s chest. “Be proud of me, Bobby.”

  HIDING IN CHAPEL RUINS on the property of Blair Castle, Grace anticipated the sound of footsteps. Nerves twisted her stomach into knots.

  “Nothing yet,” Gerry said through her earpiece.

  She tapped her fingers against Mom’s diary in her lap. It was a convincing move, to rip a page out of her diary with the false list of agents and hand it to Harry. That would explain why Harry hadn’t found the list in her backpack, because her diary hadn’t been in the backpack.

  The agents had planned everything to the nth degree. She rubbed her thumb against the inside back cover, back and forth, as she’d done so many times when thinking or nervous. Back and forth.

  She felt a rough spot, opened the journal and looked closer, using her miniflashlight. The seam had come loose. She peeled back the edge and felt something tucked behind the panel. She pulled out a slip of white paper and opened it.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, reading a list of names.

  “Grace? What is it?” Gerry asked via her earpiece.

  “The list.”

  “It’s right there, in Mary’s diary.”

  “No, I mean…” Her voice trailed off as she scanned the list, complete with photos of MI5 agents. She recognized Gerry and Rosie…and Mary Logan.

  “She was with British Intelligence?” she whispered.

  “Bloody hell, who’s that?” Gerry said.

  “Gerry, I have the list. Why is my mom on it?”

  “Get out, now!” Crackling filled the line.

  “Gerry?”

  Nothing.

  She suddenly felt all alone. And she had the list, a list of MI5 agents that included her mother. Those bastards had lied about that, too.

  “Mom, what do I do?”

  Mom had been an agent; not a terrorist. She had been a protector, a woman trying to save lives, not take them.

  If the real list fell into the wrong hands Mom would be known as a failure, her work would have been for nothing. Abandoning Grace and Dad would have been pointless.

  Grace stood, sensing she was on her own, that somehow the agents had been compromised. She wasn’t going to sit here and wait for Harry Franklin to kill her.

  She heard gravel crunch under a man’s boots. Too late. He was here.

  Tucking the list in her pocket and the diary at the back of her jeans, she waited, holding the pepper spray in a firm grip. She hoped it had enough power left to paralyze Harry, giving her time to escape.

  Harry Franklin stepped into the chapel ruins.

  “Harry?” she said.

  He turned. She aimed and fired, hitting him square on. She ran, but he got hold of her jacket and jerked her back.

  “You bloody bitch! Get back here!”

  Do whatever it takes, Bobby had said.

  She grabbed Harry’s hair and yanked as hard as she could, smashing his face against the back of her head. It was enough to stun him, enough for her to get away. She stumbled and tripped, but managed to stay on her feet, racing across the grounds. The wind blew her hair across her face as she sprinted toward the woods.

  What if they catch you? What will they do to you?

  She couldn’t think about that, now. Had to get away. Had to tell Dad about Mom, that she was a hero, not a terrorist, that she was—

  She tripped on a tree root and went down. She hit the ground with a thud, the wind knocked from her lungs. She heard footsteps closing in. She tried to scramble away, but a hand grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet. “Keep running,” Bobby ordered.

  “Bobby?”

  Her protector. Her love.

  They raced into the forest, Bobby pulling her across the uneven earth deeper into the woods. He squeezed her hand to comfort her.

  “Are you hurt?” he said.

  “No, I’m—”

  A shot rang out and she went into Bobby’s arms.

  “You’re dead if you don’t come with me,” Harry threatened from behind.

  So it had come to this. Harry Franklin and his terrorists against Grace and Bobby.

  “Thought you could outwit me?” he said with a cough, stepping closer, aiming the gun at them. “Stupid girl, I should have finished you on the train.”

  Bobby shielded her.

  “Come out from behind him,” Harry ordered.

  “Don’t move,” Bobby said to Grace.

  “You’re going to die for this girl? Why, because she’s good in bed?”

  “She’ll give you the list, then you’ll let her go.”

  “No. We’ve got some questions about her mum.”

  “She didn’t know her.”

  “I think she knows more than she’s letting on, isn’t that right, Gracie?”

  Bobby lunged at Harry Franklin. “Run, Grace!” he cried.

  She turned and raced into the woods, panic flooding her chest. A gun went off, twice. Tears streamed down her face. She’d just found Bobby, had just fallen in love with him.

  And he was protecting her, giving his life to save hers.

  She would not get caught by these bastards again.

  She jumped behind a fallen tree and burrowed deep against it, hoping Harry would run right past. A few minutes later she heard footsteps crunch against the leaves.

  “Grace?”

  “Bobby?” She jumped out of hiding and went to him, hugging him.

  “Easy now,” he said.

  She stepped back. Blood was smeared across his jacket and shirt.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Don’t get hysterical. I’m fine,” he said. “MI5 showed up. Rosie and Jimmy took Harry away. Let’s get back.”

  He led her out of the woods.

  “I can’t believe you’re here. Bobby, look, I found the real list.” She pulled it from her pocket. “And you’re not going to believe it but Mom’s name is on there. She wasn’t a terrorist, she was a British Intelligence agent.”

  “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “They told me last night.”

  “You knew she wasn’t a terrorist, but you let me believe she did those horrible things?”

  “I was trying to protect you.”
/>   “I’m tired of people protecting me, always assuming I’m unable to take care of myself.”

  “They feared if you knew the truth you’d ask more questions, and that would put you in further danger.”

  “I’m not stupid, Bobby. And believe it or not, I can take care of myself. You lied to me after I specifically asked you to be truthful. What about last night? You made love to me. Why?”

  “You know I care about you.”

  “How do I know that? You lied about my mother. My God, you were the only person I thought hadn’t lied, the only person I could trust. You’ve been playing me like all the rest: Steven, these spies. You’re just like them, manipulate the naive Grace Fairmont so you can do your job and get a raise. Well, good job, Bobby Finn, you should get a big one.” She spun around to find Anne and Gerry staring at her.

  “What?” she said. “I want to go home.”

  She marched toward them and Anne led her to the surveillance van.

  Bobby just stood there. Gerry walked up to him. “Need a hand, mate?”

  “No.” He gripped his side, where the bullet had grazed his skin. “I’m fine.”

  Grace glared at him before getting into the van.

  Gerry’s speculative gaze went between Grace and Bobby, then he said, “Ah, don’t worry. She’ll come around.”

  “Not likely.” It was then Bobby realized he’d secretly been fantasizing about a future with her.

  “What do you mean? You took a bullet for her.”

  “I also lied to her.”

  “To protect her.”

  “She’s had people lying to her her whole life. She was depending on me to be truthful.”

  “Well, she’s alive, thanks to you. I think that trumps a little white lie. But then lying is my business, so what do I know?” He winked.

  Bobby got in the back of the van and they headed to the house. Grace sat up front, back straight, mouth shut.

  “Sorry about the confusion back there,” Gerry said. “Harry Franklin brought more members than we’d anticipated.”

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing Bobby showed up,” Anne said.

  Grace didn’t respond.

  “This is finally over,” Anne said to Grace.

  “And it was all because Mom had this.” Grace pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Anne.

  “Good God, you found it!” Anne exclaimed.

  “If you’re ever interested in becoming a spy—”

  “No thanks, Uncle Gerry,” Grace said. “I have this thing about lying and manipulation.”

  “Pity.”

  “Maybe we should drop Bobby at a clinic,” Anne suggested.

  “I’m fine.” He noticed Grace didn’t react to the suggestion. Of course not. He was the enemy, a heartless bastard who’d lied to her then bedded her.

  As they drove back to the house, Bobby pieced together events of the last few days. The driver who had picked them up at Waverly Station was most likely MI5, along with the two officers who had ar rested him. They must have drugged him to get information about Grace, to determine what she knew about her spy mother and if she could lead them to the agent list.

  Twenty minutes later they pulled into the drive and got out. Grace walked ahead, aiming for the house, ignoring Bobby.

  “Guess you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” Gerry chuckled.

  “I can’t stay here.”

  “But we’ve got to patch you up,” Anne said.

  “Then I’m gone. Can you drive her back to Edinburgh and make sure she gets on a plane?” Bobby asked.

  “Sure,” Gerry said. “Where are you off to?”

  “London to visit some friends. Then back to America.”

  But his heart would never be the same.

  THE NEXT MORNING Grace packed and went in search of something to eat. Bobby had come upstairs last night only briefly to pack his things then he’d left, probably to sleep in a spare room. Good. She still hadn’t gotten over his lying to her, but it was damn hard to be mad at him with his bullet wound reminding her he’d risked his life for her.

  Of course he had. That was his job.

  Well, fine. She was going to do her job and live her own life, surrounded by people she could trust.

  She went into the kitchen to find Anne at the counter drinking tea.

  “Good morning,” she said, and went straight for the teakettle to fill it with water.

  “Good thing your friend was there to help out last night,” Anne commented.

  “My bodyguard,” she corrected.

  “Yes, well, it’s a good thing. He surely cares about you.”

  “He lies, too,” she shot back. “I’m done with liars.”

  “He kept our secret to protect you.”

  “I’ve heard that line so many times these past few days. I’m tired of it.” She put on the kettle and searched through boxes of tea.

  “Do you know why Bobby was asleep when you left for the mission last night?”

  “He was tired.” She tried not to blush, thinking about their lovemaking that had tired him out.

  “He was drugged.”

  “What?” She turned to Anne.

  “We drugged him because he was going to tell you the truth about your mother being an agent. It would have ruined everything.”

  “He was going to tell me?”

  “Yes, and to hell with national security, or the safety of that list of agents or innocent civilians. He did not want you to go to Blair Castle and risk your life because you felt guilty about your mum’s activities. He put you first. We don’t have that luxury.”

  “Whatever. Where is he? I need a ride back to Edinburgh.”

  “He’s gone. Left this morning. We’ll get you to the airport.”

  Bobby was gone. She’d never see him again. She should feel happy, relieved.

  But she wasn’t. She felt empty inside.

  “Did you love Steven?” Anne asked.

  Grace snapped her attention to the agent. “What?”

  “Did you love him?”

  “I…no,” she admitted.

  “Yet you said the words, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You lied.”

  “I was being nice. I…” she hesitated “…didn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

  “And Bobby Finn didn’t want to see you hurt. We’re all liars at one time or another. The important thing is we know how to love. I don’t have the luxury of being in love, not in my line of work.” She turned off the kettle, poured hot water into a cup and handed it to Grace. “Just let me know when you’re ready and I’ll drive you to the airport.”

  Grace stood there in shock, absorbing Anne’s words.

  It dawned on Grace that her mother had sacrificed everything because she loved Dad and their baby so much.

  Love was a gift. But Grace had been so blinded by her pride that she couldn’t see past it into Bobby’s loving eyes. God, what had she done?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Bobby didn’t waste much time getting back to work. He spent two days in London then flew back to Seattle.

  He was off-kilter, jet-lagged and cranky.

  Not to mention heartbroken.

  “The best remedy is hard work,” he said to himself as he took the bus to Blackwell headquarters in Pioneer Square.

  He got off at Yesler and went to the office building, glad that his work was the kind that consumed a man’s mind completely.

  If only it could consume his heart, deaden it to the constant ache.

  Grace. How the bloody hell had he let her sneak inside like that? He should have known it would fall apart. He wasn’t meant to have a successful relationship with a woman.

  He climbed the stairs to the second floor, took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

  “Hey, Bobby boy!” Eddie called out. The bloke wore a colorful, collarless T-shirt and tie. “I dressed up for ya.” He shook Bobby’s hand.

  “Thanks, mate.”

  Jeremy cong
ratulated Bobby, followed by Spinelli and Ramos. It felt good to be back; he felt as if he belonged.

  “Excellent job, mate,” Max said. “You get bodyguard duty and end up taking on PIRA and MI5. And you kept the girl safe.”

  “Did my best, guv.”

  “Brilliant. Well, we’ve got a new client and I’m in the process of hiring a few new members to round out the team. I thought you might want to review a candidate for office assistant before I offer her the job.”

  “Guv, I don’t know. I’m a detective, not human resources.”

  Max smiled. “Do it for me, mate.”

  Bobby glanced into Max’s office at a blond girl who sat in front of his desk, shoulder-length waves touching her shoulders. Now Bobby was hallucinating.

  In slow motion he went to Max’s office and hovered in the doorway. “Hello. I’m Bobby Finn.” She stood and turned to him.

  Grace. She smiled.

  The world went wonky again and he could have sworn there’d been a bloody earthquake.

  “Grace, what are you doing here?”

  “Come in and shut the door.”

  He did, but he didn’t get close to her for fear she’d disappear.

  “I’m here to clarify a few things,” she said. “First, you know how I hate when people keep things from me.”

  “I know, Grace, I was trying to—”

  “Wait, let me finish.” She took a few steps toward him. She looked fetching this morning in her tight jeans and T-shirt, wearing her favorite denim jacket. “But, the thing is,” she said, within inches of him. “I’ve done the same thing with the people I care about. I lied to Dad, always pretending to be happy and content. I lied to you when I acted brave about taking on Harry Franklin—I was scared, but I didn’t want to put you at risk by involving you. Yet you showed up anyway.”

  She touched his cheek and he closed his eyes.

  “And I think I’m going to have to lie again and tell you I’m going to walk out of here and I’ll be just fine without you in my life.”

  He opened his eyes and tried to read her meaning.

  “I can do that,” she said. “Or I can tell the truth and say I’ve never felt this way before. That it should scare the hell out of me, but it doesn’t because it feels right, and it’s something I’d like to pursue.”

 

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