by Mary Alford
He became aware of Hannah seconds before she dropped to her knees in front of the headstone. “No.” He barely caught the word. He didn’t need to look at her to realize she’d starting crying too. The sound of her heartbreak seemed fitting in such a somber place.
Jase didn’t try to comfort her. He didn’t have it in him. He was grieving himself. He leaned against the hood of the truck and listened to a total stranger crying over the loss of someone he loved.
“As you can see, Kate is dead. If you don’t want the same thing to happen to you, you’ll stop making claims about her and stay out of this.”
She didn’t acknowledge his words but continued to grieve for the woman he loved.
It felt like hours, in reality it was probably only a handful of minutes before the deathly silence of the place overtook them once more. She reached for the locket and gathered it against her heart. He didn’t stop her. He couldn’t stand to look at it any longer. Maybe it would bring her some peace.
Neither of them spoke. She stood slowly and climbed back into the truck. Jase drove the distance to her place in silence. He parked one street over and killed the engine.
“You are being watched. It’s best if no one knows I was here.”
She nodded and got out of the truck and slammed the door. Hannah Sandoval never looked back. He let her go because there was nothing left to say between them. Kate’s grave had said it all.
Chapter Four
“No.” Her words dissolved into a whimper the second his lips touched hers for the first time.
“Jase,” she breathed his name aloud once more.
“Why did you leave me in the desert, Kate? Why’d you go on that mission? I warned you. You knew something was wrong. Why did you die and leave me alone?”
For a moment, she was confused. “No. I’m not Kate; I’m Hannah.” The desert sand swirled, and he was gone. She glanced around the dark war-torn ruins and someone else took Jase’s place. The Foreigner.
“Don’t let the CIA get away with this, Kate. I need you to remember. Remember who killed you.”
“No, you can’t be dead.” Tears streamed down her face. The sticky desert breeze plastering them against her cheeks. “Help me. Help me remember. Please, help me remember.”
He turned to look at something behind them. A group of shadowy figures emerged from the ruins. One man raised his hand. He held something in it. She saw the knife’s glint.
Her heart beat in a staccato rhythm. The Foreigner turned back to her. “They’re here for you, Kate. It’s your turn to die.”
“No.” Hannah screamed and then, in an instant, she was awake, her body covered in sweat. She glanced around the dark apartment. She’d fallen asleep on the couch. It was only her there. Was it a dream? She closed her eyes again and tried to recapture the details. She recognized the one man. She’d called him … what? The Foreigner. He and Kate were close … he was her contact in Afghanistan. He’d been the one to organize the meeting with the man with the knife. Hannah sensed she knew him as well, she just couldn’t remember how.
The Foreigner had said, “Don’t let the CIA get away with this.” Then it finally clicked. Kate and Jase were both CIA operatives.
Someone knocked at the front door. With the remnants of that disturbing dream still close, Hannah found herself jumping at the noise. She looked at the clock. It was pushing eleven and someone was at her door. She grabbed the poker from close by the fireplace. Her heart pounded against her chest. What if it was the person responsible for Kate’s death? What if they’d come to silence whatever memories Hannah might have of her?
She blew out a shaky breath. She was being ridiculous. No one knew other than Jase and the CIA knew about her memories of Kate. Her gut told her it wouldn’t be him. The way he’d left things between them made it clear he didn’t believe her. As far as he was concerned, she was a minor irritation.
She hadn’t told him, but something about the locket was familiar. It was obviously important to Kate. Hannah had kept it because, well, it was important to Kate.
Seeing Kate’s tombstone brought other memories back as well. Those final moments of her life. Jase by her side. So many things left unsaid. So many emotions. Why couldn’t she remember the most important thing? What had happened to Kate? She owed it to the woman who saved her life.
After another less-patient knock, Hannah realized whoever was at the door had no plans to go away. She went over to the door and looked through the peep hole. It was Beverly.
Relieved, Hannah put down the poker and yanked the door open. Her sister Beverly stood with her hand poised mid-knock. She let out a surprised gasp then giggled. “I saw the light on and thought you might need some company. You okay?”
It took everything inside her to push aside the remnants of that frightening dream. Despite of what the man who pretended to be with the transplant unit had said, she was convinced now more than ever that Kate had been murdered. The other man, The Foreigner, what had happened to him? His ominous words still rang in her ears. She had a bad feeling he hadn’t made it out of the desert either.
“Hannah?”
Hannah didn’t miss the familiar concern in Beverly’s tone. If she told Beverly about the dream, Jase’s visit, her sister would freak out.
“Yes, of course.” When Beverly appeared doubtful she added, “I’m fine, really. I guess my sleeping schedule’s a bit off. Hopefully, things will return to normal soon. Otherwise, I don’t know how I’m going to handle a classroom full of first graders if I’m falling asleep when I’m supposed to be teaching. You want to come in for a bit?”
Beverly nodded and stepped inside. She took Hannah’s arm and led her over to the sofa. “You have plenty of time to worry about that. You know Doctor Brannon doesn’t think you should return to work until after the first of the year. You should take it easy, focus on getting better. You have all the time in the world.”
Hannah arched a brow at Beverly. She was not the type of woman to sit around idly. “Yeah and exactly what am I supposed to do with myself for three months, I’d like to know.”
Beverly laughed at her sister’s horrified expression. “Oh, I don’t know, you’re always complaining about not having enough time to read. You could catch up on reading that stack of books piled around your apartment. Promise me you’ll lay off the spy novels for a while. I think we’ve had enough drama for a lifetime.”
Hannah wished she could dismiss Kate so easily, but she knew the truth. Before she left the hospital, she’d discussed with her doctor the dreams she’d had along with the sudden unexplained memories that had no connection to her life. He’d told her to try not to worry about them too much. She’d been through a tremendous, life-altering event. In time, he believed they’d fade away. Her biggest fear was that they wouldn’t.
Hannah held up a hand. “You’re right. No more spy novels.”
Beverly saw right through her attempt at making light. “I know this is hard, but the doctor is right. The dreams are little more than residual effects from what you’ve been through.”
“Bev, the dreams aren’t going away. In fact, they’re getting stronger. How do you explain the fact I have Kate’s heart and I’m having dreams about her life?”
“I can’t explain it, okay. Maybe there were some residual emotions or memories attached to the heart. The doctor said it’s not unheard of.”
“Maybe, but Kate Willows was murdered, and I think by someone she knew. I’m a hundred percent certain of it.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“I do. I can’t explain it but I do. Don’t you think it’s an awful big coincidence that someone claiming to be with the transplant unit shows up at the hospital with a crazy story about Kate dying in an airplane crash? And Jase McCoy is the name of the man Kate was in love with. That person at the hospital wasn’t Jase McCoy.”
Beverly shook her head. “Then why would he say he was?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to stop us from checking any
further into Kate’s past. Maybe he thought I might be a threat in some way. Maybe he was thinking I could be involved in Kate’s death somehow.”
Beverly blew out a sigh. “Hannah, stop it. Please. I love you and I want to believe you, but you have to know you’re sounding…”
“What? Crazy? Do you think I’m crazy?”
Beverly brushed back a strand of honey blonde hair, the same shade as Hannah’s, from her face. “No, of course I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’ve been through a lot and your emotions are all over the place. You need more time. Give it time. Things will start to seem normal again.”
Hannah closed her eyes. If only it were that simple. She’d give anything to go back to the happy, carefree woman she’d once been. “And if they don’t?”
“Then I think we have a bigger problem than your heart. Think about it. If your memories are correct, then this woman died violently for something. Whatever secrets she possessed, someone wanted her dead because of them, and if someone believes a part of Kate is still out there, then what’s to stop her killer or killers from coming after you as well.”
Beverly was right. She was running out of time. She’d need to find out who was responsible for taking Kate’s life and quickly. Before the killers, or whoever Jase and the person at the hospital worked for, shut her down for good.
Beverly patted Hannah’s arm then stood. “I’ll check in on you in the morning, okay. Try to sleep. You’ll feel better, I promise. Everything will look differently, you’ll see.” Hannah wondered which of them she was trying to convince the most.
Unfortunately, sleep was no longer an option. Once Beverly left, Hannah knew if she wanted answers, she’d need to find them herself. She grabbed her iPad and logged onto the Internet.
But where did one go to find out the truth about a spy’s death?
She Googled Kate’s name. There were several Kate Willows’ listed. Only one living in Alexandria.
The details were sparse. Kate Willows had turned thirty in December. She’d died months short of her thirty-first birthday when the small plane she was in crashed north of Denver. Pilot error was ruled to be the cause of the accident.
The same story the man at the hospital had told them. Hannah stopped. There had been something vaguely familiar about him. Was he part of Kate’s past?
He had claimed Kate’s family wanted to remain anonymous. They’d expected her to accept the story without digging deeper. She continued reading. The article said Kate had been employed by the same high-tech company going on eight years.
Lies. All lies.
She did a search of Jase’s name. There was even less information about James McCoy. She found one paragraph from a small newspaper in the Midwest. It was an interview with rancher James McCoy about the effects of the recent drought on cattle prices.
On impulse, Hannah typed in: “CIA involvement in recent agent’s death in Afghanistan.”
The response brought up several options, all dealing with conspiracy theories.
After searching a couple of the links, she couldn’t have been more discouraged. Of course, she hadn’t really expected to find anything blatant, but sometimes a conspirator used bits of the truth amongst the rhetoric.
God, I don’t know what to do? Where do I turn for answers?
The CIA had done everything they could to convince her Kate Willows wasn’t a spy. Jase thought she was either crazy or a traitor. No matter how much she knew in her heart, Beverly was right. She should let go of the search for answers into Kate’s death. She couldn’t. She owed it to the part of Kate that now lived on inside her.
Hannah paced the apartment, clutching the locket Kate’s grandmother had given her and trying to push away the memories of those final seconds until she couldn’t stand it any longer. The walls were closing in around her, and she had a feeling time was running out. She slipped out of the apartment. She couldn’t use her car without alerting the CIA tail assigned to her. She’d have to walk. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered much anymore.
She walked for what felt like hours before she found herself standing outside the faded and peeling green warehouse that had been converted into a coffee shop in the downtown district. She had never once been to this part of the city before, yet there was something very familiar about the place. How did she know it?
She went inside and straight to a table at the back of the place as if she’d been there dozens of times. This part of the shop was away from the rest of the tables. Isolated. The only light was a small jar holding a candle placed on the center of the table. Why did she choose to sit here? She closed her eyes, but the answer was just out of her grasp.
Hannah shivered with fear. She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Was she losing her mind? It felt as if someone other than herself had taken control of her emotions, her actions, and it terrified her.
The place was empty except for three men in suits.
A single barista, a kid who looked about fifteen, was the only help in the place. He grudgingly left his spot behind the counter where he was texting.
“What can I get you?” he asked without interest.
“Um, coffee black,” she ordered and then wondered what on Earth had possessed her to order black coffee. She usually loaded hers down with cream and sugar.
The kid poured coffee into a cup and handed it Hannah. She paid him and went back to the table. The caffeine jolted her body to life. Considering what she’d gone through, this was probably a really bad idea to be drinking coffee just yet, but she was desperate and working on blind emotion she didn’t understand. She was trying to connect to a dead woman.
* * * *
“We’ve lost contact with her sir,” the radio operator yelled over the ordered chaos permeating the command center.
This was his worst nightmare come to life. Kate. She was out there alone and their contact was two hours late for the scheduled meet.
Jase grabbed the radio from his communications officer. “Kate. Kate, what’s happening there? Have your made contact yet? Kate, answer me.”
His only answer was the static crackling through the line. His gut told him someone had deliberately blocked the radio signal.
“Kate? Kate, are you there?” He threw procedure out the window and relied on his gut. “It’s a setup. Get out of there you’re being setup.” He tossed the radio back to the officer. “I’m going after her.”
“Our orders are to stand down,” Travis Ellis, his four-year partner reminded him. Travis had been parked next to the radio operator, listening to the events unfold.
Jase ignored him. Orders aside, this was Kate. She needed him. He couldn’t think about what might be happening to her or the trepidation he’d felt in his heart since the beginning of this final mission.
No, God, please no.
He turned to Travis, ready for a face-off. “Call it, Travis. Something’s wrong. She’s in trouble. I’m telling you to call it now.”
Jase could read every single one of Travis’ misgivings, but his partner didn’t waver long.
“We have an agent is missing. I repeat we have an agent missing.”
The command post had been set up some one hundred kilometers from the meet. Within seconds following the call, all around them the intense quiet of the command was shattered by the sound of military backup responding to the agent in distress command.
Jase raced for the Humvee with Travis at his heels. They’d barely cleared their respective doors before he shoved the vehicle in gear and the desert sand flew in all directions.
The troops were the first to arrive, seconds before he walked into the shell of a building. The expressions of their faces told the truth.
He kneeled next to her. She was alive … barely, clinging to life and trying to speak. Her throat slashed.
No. No, please no. Not like this.
“Kate, hang on, the medics are on their way.” He didn’t want to ask the next question, but he had to. Had to put aside his feelings for
Kate and work the case. “Who did this? Who’s responsible?”
She was crying. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Kate cry. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes, emphasizing the finality of it all.
She couldn’t say a word, couldn’t even shake her head. He reached for her hand and held it, felt her squeeze his slightly, her beautiful brown gaze locked onto his.
She was dying. His Kate was dying.
“No.” The word ripped from him.
“Come on, guys. Let’s give them some space.” Jase barely registered that Travis was the one speaking.
Those around them seemed to understand. They melted away, giving them time alone to say goodbye.
Jase swallowed at the lump in his throat, but it didn’t go away. He needed to be strong for Kate. Couldn’t show her he was falling apart inside.
Tell her the truth for once. Tell her you’ve loved her forever, since the moment you recruited her all those years earlier. Tell her how important she is to you. Tell her you love her.
“Kate … please, hang on. Just hang on. Kate … I…”
But it was too late. He saw it in her eyes the moment life left her. It … he was too late.
“I love you,” he whispered in a broken voice, then leaned over to kiss her one final time before closing her eyes because he couldn’t look at them and not hate himself for letting her go without knowing how much she meant to him.
Jase woke to the sound of his own tortured cry. He didn’t even need to glance at the time to know it would be the same. Twelve fifty-six a.m. The same as always. As every single night before. The exact moment Kate died.
He shoved the covers away from his clammy body and got out of bed. Outside, wasn’t the shifting sand of the Afghan desert waiting with its secrets, but the rain-slicked streets near the D.C. apartment he’d once shared with Kate.
After leaving the cemetery with Hannah, something inside of him had hardened. This city made him sick. It reminded him of everything he’d come to hate. Lies. He no longer believed in “the cause.” The only thing he wanted or believed in anymore was revenge. It was the one thing that kept him going. He’d find Kate’s killers, and he’d bring them to justice and then he’d leave the shadow games to someone who had the stomach for it still.