Holden Parker and Sabrina Killian were already sitting in Shay’s office when Reece stepped in. They greeted each other with brief nods, and Reece took the lone empty seat.
Apparently, it would just be the four of them.
Shay didn’t waste any time. She closed the door and stood in front of them, her expression grim and assessing.
“There isn’t much left for us to do in our fight against the Sons of the Badlands,” she said with no preamble, explaining what they all already knew. “There are still some very small, very ineffectual factions, but local law enforcement will be able to see to those without help from us.”
“You disbanding us?” Holden Parker asked, legs thrust out and crossed at the ankles. He had his arms crossed casually behind his head, as though he didn’t care.
But there wasn’t anyone fooled in this room.
Everyone cared.
“Not as such,” Shay replied evenly. “There are other groups. Other missions. If your personal mission ends with the Sons of the Badlands being reduced to rubble, then you’re free to go. No questions asked.”
“What’s our other option?” Sabrina asked. She made no effort to appear casual. She leaned forward, fingers clasped tightly together, expression intense. As always.
Shay held up a small folder. “I’ve been approached by a small, secret group looking for help with a particularly difficult and sensitive mission. You three are here because I think you’d be the best options for the initial research and fieldwork. But it’s only if you want to stay.”
“What the hell else would we do?” Holden replied, his grin doing nothing to soften the bite in his voice.
Shay’s gaze turned to Reece. He hadn’t said a word—didn’t make any effort to be casual or intense. If he allowed himself to consider it, he supposed the feeling that coursed through him was relief.
But he’d long ago given up feeling.
When Shay looked at him and simply waited, he gave a nod.
“I’m in,” he said.
“Good, because you’re up first. We have next to nothing to go on. A man was killed early last year, presumably via an unknown hit man. Because of this man’s contacts and jobs, they believe there will be more targets. This organization doesn’t know why. They don’t know who. They barely know what.”
“Don’t make it so easy,” Holden muttered.
But Reece was happy for complicated. For nearly impossible. It meant his life hadn’t lost all purpose and meaning with the Sons eradicated.
He still had a mission to complete, and the more difficult the better.
“What we do have to go on is the widow. The government agency thinks she knows something, but she’s been wholly unwilling to talk to them. Presumably, she blames her husband’s death on his work, whoever his employers were. At this point, they’re hoping a stranger and an uninvolved group like ours can get through to her.”
“You going to tell us this agency’s name?” Sabrina demanded.
Shay shook her head. “No. They’ve made it very clear everything is on a need-to-know basis, and knowing who they are isn’t necessary.”
“Then how do we know they’re the good guys?” Reece asked.
“We don’t,” Shay said. “But they didn’t ask me to get through to this widow via any means necessary. They didn’t act as though they’d used any scare tactics. It could be for any reason, but it makes me more prone to want to look into this. They’re not hurting or threatening an innocent woman, when they probably could be.”
Her honesty was one of the things that Reece figured made her an excellent successor to Granger. Like Granger, she didn’t let anyone labor under false pretenses. It was what had always made North Star work: knowing that a mission wasn’t safe or easy. An agent was risking a lot.
“But we don’t know for sure, obviously. That’s part of what I want you to find out, Reece. I want you to pose as a guest at the widow’s bed-and-breakfast. Find out what you can about what she might know, and the organization her husband was working for. We don’t move forward with the rest of it until we get a better picture of who we’re dealing with. I’ll continue to research on my end, but I think the widow is the key to figuring out if we want to be involved. You’ll do your best to befriend the widow and get whatever information you can.”
Sabrina laughed. “Reece? Befriend someone? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Shay gave him what passed for a smile. “I’m sure he can handle it.”
All Reece did was take the folder and nod.
* * *
HE COULD INDEED handle it. Truth be told, he knew how to turn on the charm when needed. Most especially when he wasn’t himself. When he checked into the inn, he would be Reece Conrad, traveling nature photographer.
Reece knew how to play a role.
The Bluebird Bed & Breakfast was situated in eastern Wyoming, in the small town of Echo. As far as Reece could see, there was nothing special about the town except that it was nestled near the borders of both Montana and South Dakota.
It was a picturesque enough area. There were slight rolling hills as he drove along, with pretty ranches tucked away just off the two-lane highway. He passed the occasional rock formation—though nothing as grand as Devil’s Tower a ways to the southwest.
Reece turned off the highway onto the paved but poorly maintained road mentioned in the directions on the Bluebird Bed & Breakfast’s website.
It was a good half mile before he rounded a curve around a small pond and the house came into view. Reece slowed without fully realizing he was doing so.
The house and yard that came into view was like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. The pretty little farmhouse looked just like the picture he’d seen on the website, with its gleaming white-and-blue shutters and an expansive porch with colorful chairs. Trees closed in around the house on three sides, but the front yard was sprawling and well kept.
It was like some stupid childhood dream he’d had of the perfect life. A family, a house like that and space to run.
He shook his head. He had to leave Reece Montgomery behind. He was Reece Conrad. A married man, two kids. He traveled from national park to national park via back roads, photographing landscapes and the various nature he found. He stayed at places off the beaten path, hoping for great pictures along the way. He was a man who’d had a normal childhood, gone to college and built a life.
He stopped the car next to a compact sedan. It was an older model, but it looked like it was kept in meticulous shape. Still, when he glanced inside the car, there was the debris of children in the back seat.
Though it looked to be the mess of more than one child, this was the make and model of Lianna Kade’s car, according to the file he’d been given.
The proprietress, the widow, had one child. A son. Seven years old. That Reece knew from what Shay had been able to dig up on her. Mrs. Kade didn’t have anything remarkable in her background. The house had been in her family since it was built, but it was her great-grandmother who’d turned it into a bed-and-breakfast in the late 1940s, after her husband had died in World War II.
The current innkeeper had married Todd Kade when she was just twenty. Todd Kade wasn’t his real name, but it was interesting that the widow had kept the last name for herself and her son.
Shay was still trying to track down the man’s real name. If the agency wanting more information on his death knew, they weren’t telling.
Reece hefted his duffel bag over one shoulder, and the camera bag meant to keep up pretenses over the other. He walked across the green yard. There were gardens...everywhere. Along the tree line, huge beds—protected by chicken wire—boasted what appeared to be local grasses. There were artful groupings of red and orange tulips and yellow daffodils. Bracketing the house and porch were more beds, pots and planters, full of flowers he was more familiar with. Pansies and i
mpatiens and the like.
Reece made his way up to the porch. Hanging from the railing on one side was a cheerfully painted sign that said Welcome to the Bluebird Bed & Breakfast. There were little bluebirds painted around the words. Underneath was a tab that said Vacancies.
He took the stairs onto the porch. There was a welcome mat, more bluebirds. The door itself was painted a bright blue. The knob was an ornate metal that had been fashioned to look like a bird, as well.
He was fairly certain that if someone looked up domestic bliss in the dictionary, they’d find a picture of the Bluebird Bed & Breakfast.
Not that he knew anything about domestic bliss.
The directions he’d been given upon reserving a room had been to let himself into the house. Not very safe for a woman whose husband had been murdered just last year.
Still, Reece pushed the door open and stepped into what appeared to be a living room. A bell on the door tinkled, and he heard footsteps from somewhere deeper in the house.
A woman, blond hair pulled back in a swinging ponytail, entered the room. Her smile was warm and welcoming, though her blue eyes didn’t quite match the expression. There was nothing particularly remarkable about her—she was medium height, medium build. She wore well-worn jeans and a T-shirt that had the name of the bed-and-breakfast emblazoned across the pocket.
Reece felt a bit like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and couldn’t begin to imagine why.
“You must be Mr. Conrad,” she said, her voice polite and husky. “Welcome.”
Okay, maybe Reece Conrad wasn’t married with two kids. Maybe he was a very single man and—
He cleared his throat, not sure where all that...response came from. Or why he was oddly uncomfortable with the fake part of his name. “Please call me Reece.”
“Of course. You can set your bags down if you like, and we’ll get you checked in.” She moved behind a desk, set up in a little alcove surrounded by windows that looked out over the front yard.
She carried the scent of lemons as she passed him.
“You’re the...owner.”
He noticed the infinitesimal stiffening of her spine, but her expression was perfectly friendly. “Yes, I am.” She jiggled the mouse of her computer, the monitor coming to life. She typed in a few things, then unlocked a drawer and pulled out a large envelope.
“You booked our attic room. You can follow me and I’ll show you up, giving you a bit of a tour along the way.”
“Sure.”
She made a move to take his bags, but he grabbed them first. She didn’t comment or slide him a look. She just started...talking.
“This is our common area. Cold nights—and we can have those well into June—we have a fire in the hearth. Through that entryway, you’ll find the dining room and kitchen. On this side of the house you’ll find the TV room. There’s also a public computer you’re free to use.”
She led him to a staircase and Reece found himself unduly mesmerized by the swing of her ponytail.
Get a hold of yourself, Montgomery.
“This is the second floor. It’s all guest rooms. You’re the only guest here for right now, but this weekend we’ll have an almost full house. Obviously we ask that you stick to your own room or the common areas downstairs.”
“Of course.”
She led him to a door and pulled a keychain out of her pocket. She fiddled through the keys until she found an antique-looking metal one. She fitted it into the keyhole and unlocked the door.
It pushed open with a creak. “You have a key in here,” she said, shaking the envelope in her hand. “The staircase leads straight into the room, so I advise locking it when you want complete privacy. Cleaning hours are outlined in the packet in the envelope, and most guests are incredibly polite, but you just never know when someone might want to poke around.”
She led him up a rickety staircase. He followed, half expecting the attic room to be, in fact, very attic-like.
“I read the history on your website,” he offered, testing the friendliness waters. “It’s always been in your family?”
“Yes, since it was built in 1900 by my great-great-grandfather. But it wasn’t turned into a bed-and-breakfast until the 1940s by my great-grandmother. Nevertheless, much of the history you’ll find here is related to my family.”
“But your name is Kade, not Young.”
She stopped somewhat abruptly on the stairs, then turned to face him. “It is. Did you have a personal question you wanted to ask about that?”
She reminded him of a very stern schoolteacher. “No, ma’am.”
She nodded firmly and turned on a heel, and then finished the ascent up the stairs. He followed, giving her a respectable distance.
The room was the complete opposite of the narrow, creaky staircase. It was A-framed, with low ceilings on either side, but the bed was situated right in the middle of the room against the far wall. There were large stained glass windows on either side of the bed, big picture windows on the other walls that let in streams of light so that the whole room seemed to glow.
There was a desk on one side of the room, and a door on the other.
“The door leads to a small bathroom, but it’s all yours. There’s also a bathroom on the main level available to any guests. Breakfast is served from eight to nine in the dining room. We offer a small selection for a help-yourself lunch at noon. Dinner is from five to six. If you need to eat earlier or later, you can make arrangements.”
“This is amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so.” She handed him the envelope and Reece noted the careful way she made sure her hands were nowhere near his when he took it. “Please enjoy your stay, and don’t hesitate to ask for anything you might need. I’ll do my best to accommodate.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kade.”
She clasped her hands together and offered him a smile that, if he wasn’t totally off base, had chilled considerably. “Please call me Lianna.” She pointed to a phone on the desk. “Dial one if you need assistance.”
With that, she turned and left the room. He heard the subtle click of the lock being engaged once she’d reached the bottom of the stairs.
Reece shook out the contents of the envelope she’d handed him. A pamphlet of information about the inn, a printout of events around town for the month and the key to his room door.
The top of the key was in the shape of a bluebird. Reece had never considered himself a fan of whimsy, but something about it made him smile.
But that smile only lasted a few seconds before he got to work.
In less than five minutes, he’d unpacked his clothes, found a secure place for his weapons and unearthed a listening device on the smoke detector.
Now the question was—who had put it there? Lianna Kade? The group who’d hired North Star?
Or someone else altogether?
CHAPTER TWO
Lianna Kade was not one to make a mountain out of a molehill. She’d survived six years married to a man who’d shown himself to be a monster more and more over time. Then, once he’d been killed, she’d found out he was some kind of spy. All of that had given her the space to learn to handle what came, without getting too worked up about it.
But Reece Conrad was something. He made her...itchy, she thought as she walked down the attic stairs. She locked the door, making sure not to give one last look up the stairs.
It wasn’t nerves so much. Though he was a quietly intense man, he didn’t give off any kind of threatening vibe. She might have been very stupid and naive at twenty, but she’d honed those instincts she’d lacked then.
Reece Conrad wasn’t a threat exactly, but she was tempted to call Sheriff Reynolds and see if he could run some kind of background check.
But that would only start the whole thing over.
Grandma had retired and handed over the bed
-and-breakfast to Lianna to give her and Henry a fresh start. Away from everything that had happened.
Lianna had taken it because her grandparents and parents didn’t know the half of what had actually happened, and she wanted to always keep it that way. They could stay off in Denver, and she could raise and support her son in one of her favorite places in the world.
The alarm on her phone went off. Time to walk up to pick Henry up at the bus stop. Time to get her head back into the important parts of her routine.
She went out the front door, telling herself to enjoy the walk on a pretty, late-spring day. So pretty that once she reached the parking lot, she glanced back at the house.
Perfect. A dream come to life, and she got to run it. Inn-keeping wasn’t some perfect dream job, but living here... It was exactly what she wanted.
She happened to look up at the attic windows. Her stomach swooped in a jolt of surprise and embarrassment. Reece was standing there. Looking at her.
She turned quickly, striding for the road. She didn’t look back. If he was watching her, well, so be it. She’d probably watch him if the situations were reversed.
She didn’t usually have to worry about men in a suitable age range showing up at her B and B looking like...that.
Yes, situations reversed, she would look and she would indeed watch him walk away.
“You’re hopeless, Lianna,” she muttered to herself, forgetting her usual routine. Her walk up to the bus stop was supposed to be a meditative time. Resetting. Her therapist back in Denver had given her a lot of strategies for coping with her newfound anxiety.
He had not been supportive of the move to middle-of-nowhere Wyoming, even if it was home. But Lianna had needed this fresh start. For her. For Henry. She’d needed home, and a place to find her confidence.
She would have never done that in San Francisco, with all the lies Todd had told. All the lies that had ended up with him murdered. Not that anyone knew why. No, the story the papers had told had been a burglary gone wrong.
Lianna knew better. Six years too late, but she knew better. And no matter the horror those years with Todd had been, she’d gotten Henry out of them. She couldn’t wish them away. Not when Henry was her whole world.
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