He really was putting her first tonight. As he slid his hand into his pocket to silence the phone, she touched his arm, stopping him. “I don’t want you fired.” She smiled at him as seductively as she knew how.
He arched a brow again. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“You’ve changed your mind about the spying life?” He sounded hopeful.
“I’ve changed my mind about a lot of things.” She took a deep breath and swallowed. “Drew, I have to make a confession to you.”
He looked at her quizzically, hopefully.
“I owe you an apology.” She bit her lip. Even though she’d rehearsed the words in her mind all afternoon while walking through the park, the perfect words escaped her. “You were so good to me after Ciudad and I treated you … treated you horribly. I pushed you away. On purpose.”
Now that she’d started, the words tumbled out. “I felt so guilty. Responsible for what happened to you. For what they did to you.” She swallowed hard, trying to keep her courage up and say what she had to say. “I accidentally gave away that you were my husband. To a steward at the resort in Iguazu Falls. I had no idea he worked for the drug lords.”
She shook her head. “That’s why they tracked me to my apartment. And then … I told them where you were. I sent Jack to his death. I nearly killed you. All because I couldn’t lie, even to save your life…” She trailed off, hoping she’d spoken loud enough for him to hear.
He scooted his chair around the table so that he sat right next to her, turning in the chair until he faced her. He took her hands in his and squeezed them.
She stared into her lap, continuing before he could speak. “I’m so sorry, for everything. I decided there was only one way you’d be safe—without me.” She choked up. “So I said I didn’t love you anymore.”
“Stace, babe, I know.” His voice was soft and tender.
She looked at him through the tears in her eyes. “You know?”
“I have my sources.”
“Mandy! Mandy told you something at the winery, didn’t she?”
He shrugged.
She shook her head and tried to smile. “You’re a terrible liar, Drew Fields.”
“I must be losing my edge.” He put a hand on her chin and tipped her face up so that she had to meet his eyes. His jaw ticked slightly in the way it did when he was angry. “You didn’t give me away, Stace. They tortured the truth out of you. There’s a big difference. Don’t you see?” His passion almost swayed her.
She nodded, but she still wasn’t fully convinced. “I slipped up with the steward. That wasn’t torture. But I’m a better liar now. Promise. I’ve learned. For you. Lies of omission seem to be my strong suit. I won’t be careless again.”
“It was my fault,” he said, ignoring her last statement. “For putting you in danger in the first place.”
“No, Drew. I wanted to go. I wanted to be with you. Without you…” There. She said it. Or at least implied it. Laid her heart out there for him to stomp on if he chose.
“I have something I need to say to you, too.” He reached into his suit pocket. The other one, the one without the phone. He was pulling his hand out from his pocket, clutching something, just as the waiter rushed up.
“So sorry to interrupt your evening, sir. But you have a call at the front desk. The caller said it’s urgent. He hasn’t been able to reach you on your cell.”
Drew stared at Staci and slid his hand back into his pocket without revealing the contents.
“Go,” she said. “It sounds important.”
Drew nodded to the waiter and pushed back his chair. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave the table, Stace. Promise me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
Just as Drew rose, she overhead a snippet of conversation at the table next to her. A woman saying something to a man named Brad.
“Jasper Bradford!” The name rose to her lips out of nowhere. She couldn’t believe she’d spoken it aloud.
Drew paused and shot her a puzzled look.
She supposed it did seem like a non sequitur. “Sorry! I was trying to remember that name while I was waiting for you. It’s the name I saw on paperwork in Sam’s boat on that awful fishing trip.” She smiled at him. “Now go. Hurry. I’ll be waiting for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Jasper Bradford. Drew pulled out his phone and put out an APB on Mr. Bradford, who was certainly Sam Deeds, as he raced to the reception desk and picked up his call, feeling like a spy out of the 1950s for ignoring his shoe phone and being forced to use antiquated technology like a landline.
“Why the ’ell ’aven’t you been hanswering your phone?” Noe said, still managing to sound halfway jovial.
“Good evening to you, too. Let me call you back on my secure cell phone.” He hung up and called Noe on his cell as he walked to a secluded hallway where he wouldn’t be overheard. “I have an alias for Sam for your boys to check. I’ve got our staff on it, too. They’ll be checking the harbor rentals. Jasper Bradford.”
Noe mumbled something in French too softly for Drew to understand. “You are sure?”
“I have a good hunch.” He explained briefly.
Noe laughed. “I ’ave to ’and it to you, you win the prize if you’re right.”
“Now—you have something urgent to tell me. Good news I hope.”
“Not as good as yours. We ’ave an emergency here at the Trumpet. The janitor found the body of a middle-aged woman in the broom closet just down the hall from your stepfather-in-law’s room. The body is very fresh. Dead less than an hour.”
Drew’s heart stopped as he saw his future life with Staci slip away. “Not my mother-in-law!”
“No. Sorry to worry you. Not your mother-in-law. I ’ave already checked. She is alive and well in her room.”
“Lucy Wells,” Drew said, letting relief wash over him and put his pulse back to right.
“You ID her without even seeing the body?” Noe said. “Very skillful. Or are you playing twenty questions with me?”
Drew smiled. “Staci saw Lucy at the park this afternoon.” Drew described her. “She shouldn’t be in Victoria.”
“Yes, minus two bullet holes between her eyes, that sounds like her. I’ll instruct our men to get a positive ID. Who is Lucy Wells? An amateur spy, or a PI? We found a button cam on her blouse.”
Damn, Drew thought, remembering Lucy buying all that gear at the spy store in Seattle. Her curiosity had killed her. He was certain she’d found something out, something Sam didn’t want her to know. She’d followed him up here to blackmail him with it and get him back. Of course, he’d killed her to silence her.
“Sam’s mistress. Look, Noe, let me take Staci back to the hotel. Let’s rendezvous in fifteen.” The hairs on the back of Drew’s neck stood up. He had to get Staci to safety.
* * *
Staci sat sipping her wine, frustrated, but enjoying her thoughts and the view all the same. Why did her life have to be like an old soap opera? A phone call interrupting just as she and Drew were poised on the brink of really reconciling was so cliché it was almost funny. Almost.
But he’d be back. He had something in his pocket for her. She grinned. Yes, something more than the usual. And yet he’d seemed nervous, which wasn’t like Drew. She was hoping he’d been about to make a declaration and propose a reunion. He’d forgiven her so easily. She had hope, real hope that he would ask her to stay with him.
And she’d accept him. She knew that with certainty. Being with him this past week, being a real part of his world, learning to lie, the realization had come upon her gradually—she needed Drew Fields. Sneaky, lying, danger-loving spy that he was, she wanted to be his wife, forever.
“Staci! There you are.” Her stepfather’s voice interrupted her pleasant thoughts.
His tone was so urgent, she nearly jumped. She turned to face him as he knelt beside her. “Sam? I thought you were out fishing until dark.”
“
We limited out early.” He grabbed her arm. “I came back to the hotel room to find your mother in agony.”
“Agony? She was fine when I saw her just over an hour ago.”
“Food poisoning, I think,” Sam said. “You know how quickly that comes on. She’s sick, Staci. Really sick. I begged her to let me take her to the emergency room, but she refused. Doesn’t trust the Canadian health system. I hated to leave her alone, but I had to go out and get something to help her. She’s dehydrating.” Sam looked genuinely upset.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t think of it until I was walking by the Empress on my way to the drugstore. Then, forgive me, but I remembered you were dining here for your anniversary. The thought occurred to me that you’re the only person she’ll listen to. You’d be able to talk some sense into your mom and get her to go to the doctor.”
“Of course.” She grabbed her evening bag. “Drew will be back in just a minute—”
Sam glanced around the room. “There’s no time, Staci. I’m really panicked.”
She could see he was.
Staci grabbed her evening bag and pulled her phone out. “I’ll just text Drew and let him know where I am.”
Sam grabbed the phone from her hand. “Text him on the way.”
Poor Sam. He looked so frightened. She let him pull her to her feet and lead her out of the restaurant.
* * *
When Drew returned to the table, Staci was gone. But her roses weren’t. They lay untouched where she’d set them earlier. He took a deep breath, hoping she’d just run to the ladies’ room, although his spy-sense told him otherwise.
He grabbed the waiter. “My wife, the lady at this table, did you see where she went?”
“Yes, sir. She left with an older gentleman. He looked upset and seemed in quite a hurry as he escorted her out of the room.”
Drew whipped out his phone and showed the waiter a picture of Sam. “Is this him?”
The waiter nodded. “Yes, sir, that’s the gentleman.”
Gentleman, indeed. Everything fell into place—Staci on Sam’s boat seeing the name Jasper Bradford, the attempts on her life. Sam was behind them. He had to be. He wasn’t leaving behind anyone who could give him away to SMASH.
Drew patted the waiter on the shoulder as he tucked a large tip into his pocket, then took off at a run for the hotel entrance. Sam had Staci! Drew hoped she was still alive.
* * *
A line of taxis waited at the hotel entrance. As they stepped out of the hotel, Sam grabbed Staci’s arm and stuck a gun into her ribs. “Don’t make a scene. Get into the cab. We’re going for a ride.”
“What in the world, Sam?” What has gotten into him?
“Just get in the car. Now.” He jabbed her with the gun.
Stupefied, Staci froze. He didn’t need to threaten her to get her to see her mother. In a flash, certain things began to coalesce in her mind, events linked together, like three recent attempts on her life. On her life. Sam wanted her dead.
Feeling detached, almost out of her body, she wondered about Sam’s motive, whether he’d taken out a large insurance policy on her or had just gone crazy. He was a greedy bastard, always had been.
Fortunately, she had a bit of experience surviving murder attempts. When Drew got back to the table and found her missing, he’d look for her. Drew could track anyone. She just had to leave him a clue while she thought up an escape plan.
As Sam opened the car door, she subtly pulled one of her dangly earrings loose and dropped it on the sidewalk, hoping Drew would find it. It was just a cheap earring, costume jewelry, but Drew would recognize it.
Sam shoved her into the car.
“I take it this means Mom’s not really sick,” Staci said. It seemed like the droll kind of thing Drew would say.
* * *
Drew raced through the hotel lobby and out the front doors, looking for Staci. Nothing. She’d disappeared.
He stared at the line of cabs waiting for customers just outside the hotel doors. And then he saw her earring on the sidewalk. Staci had left him a clue. Sam had taken her in a cab.
He couldn’t have gone far. The most logical place was the marina.
Drew’s cell buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID. Noe.
He’d never been so disappointed. Damn it, Staci! Where are you? Fight, baby, fight!
He picked up the phone. “Sam has Staci.”
A string of Quebecois followed. “We’ll get ’im, mon ami. Meet me at the marina. Jasper Bradford has rented a boat. If we hurry, we can cut ’im off.”
* * *
Sam shoved Staci into a rented twin-engine fishing boat, a good twenty-six-foot beauty with a sixty-degree bow deadrise meant for cutting through waves and ocean waters. Nice, sturdy enclosed cabin. Probably had a sleeping compartment belowdeck. Staci knew a boat made for open waters when she saw one. Her heart sank. Sam bound her hands behind her back and tied her to the rigging station that was meant to hold fishing poles. Fortunately, she’d managed to drop her second earring on the dock.
“Scream and I shoot you between the eyes. Right here. No questions asked.”
His words fell like ice. She believed he’d do it. In the silence in the cab on the way to the marina, she’d made another terrible connection—Sam was Drew’s mission. He had to be. Sam worked for a satellite manufacturing firm. He had access to design specs and documentation. His unexplained absences? Not an affair, though he may have had one with Lucy, too. Espionage. Selling out his country.
Everything she pieced together fit, including the extra money Sam seemed to have, his close, guarded handling of his and her mother’s finances. How long had he been a traitor? How long had Drew and Emmett been tracking him? How could Drew do this to her, come back and pretend to love her again as part of his mission? Break her heart.
She felt sick, physically sick. Heartsick. Drew’s love had all been a sham. Depressed and heartbroken, she wanted to give up, just lie down and cry. But she couldn’t let Sam get away. She had a mission. She thought about Drew’s jest over dinner about his mission—a crazy maniac who wanted to take over the world.
Drew wasn’t joking. He was telling the truth. Sam’s part of the plan.
Millions of innocent people’s lives depended on her. She had to do something.
She scanned the deck and what she could see through the tinted glass of the cabin, looking for her mother. Hoping, praying …
“Is Mom aboard?”
“No, I’ve left Linda behind. She isn’t cut out for the new life I plan to lead.” He sounded casual, cold, and selfish.
“Alive? You left her behind alive, right?” Staci fought to keep the tremble of fear from her voice.
“Very much so. Why would I hurt her? I love your mother.”
Really? You have a funny way of showing it. She wanted to believe Sam was telling the truth, that her mom was fine.
Sam untied the boat from its moorings and pulled up the bumpers. Behind him the sunset showed off, lighting the sky in golden tones of orange, red, and pink.
“Calm water. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight,” Sam said, making casual conversation as if they were headed out for a friendly evening cruise. “The strait should be pleasant this evening.”
Stall him, Staci, stall him. Sam didn’t know Drew was a world-class spy with the full resources of the US and Canadian governments behind him. Didn’t know Drew had been watching him. Buy time.
“Why, Sam? Why kill me? What have I done?” She was still confused about that.
“You think I’m going to kill you?” He knelt beside her and stroked her cheek. “I love you. You’ve always been my little girl.”
At his touch, she shrank away and fought back the bile rising her throat. “Don’t game me, Sam. This obviously isn’t a pleasure cruise.”
Sam looked genuinely sad and upset, agitated. “I didn’t want it to come to this. I didn’t want to kill you myself. But you have nine lives, my dear.
No one I hired to do it could get the job done. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle and quick. I don’t want you to suffer.”
She shuddered. “You still haven’t answered my question—why?”
“That’s complicated.” He smiled sadly and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted to be a wealthy man.” His expression changed, became outraged. “But no one’s ever recognized my talents. Attitude passed me over for promotion time and again. And then I realized I was sitting on my fortune, I just had to seize it.
“I began selling Attitude’s secrets, government secrets, to a very nasty group of terrorists. When I realized how nasty, I wanted out. But you don’t walk away from RIOT alive. SMASH will kill you.”
RIOT. SMASH. She tried to keep track of the names.
“So I made a plan to dupe them and disappear. I didn’t want the blood of thousands of deaths on my hands. I’ve just ‘delivered’ the final installment of information they wanted and received my payoff.
“Actually, it’s misinformation. And more correctly, I stole it back. Attitude doesn’t have the technology to do what they want. But try telling RIOT and Random that.”
Random, the name on the brochure.
“I’ve just inked my own death warrant. They’ll eliminate me. If they can find me.” He shrugged. “So I have to disappear.
“Unfortunately, I can’t take your mother with me.” He sighed. “You, Staci, were in the wrong place at the wrong time. On my boat in those choppy waters at Westport. I forgot to lock one of the drawers with vital paperwork in it. I’m sure it popped open in rough water. My guess is the papers flew out and you put them back—out of order.
“I’ve been carefully creating a new identity. Whether you realize it or not, you saw it.”
Jasper Bradford. Thank goodness I blurted that name out to Drew less than an hour ago.
“I was afraid the people I’d been dealing with would find you and torture it out of you. This is really easier and kinder for you, believe me.”
He was crazy. Certifiable as he stood before her acting like some kind of humanitarian.
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