Yuletide Suspect

by Lisa Phillips

“I’m not lying to you, Lib. The doctor gave me some things to watch out for. That’s all.”

  She waited by the door, biting her lip.

  “Come on, you guys,” the desk guy said. “You’re letting all the cold air in.”

  Tate let the door go and the man buzzed them in. Tate went straight to his desk. He sat but didn’t rest his head on the back of the chair even though he wanted to. He just closed his eyes and rested his temple on his fist, his elbow on the arm of the chair.

  Then someone was shaking his shoulder.

  He looked up to find Liberty standing over him. She’d brushed her hair and secured it back in a ponytail. The sight of it made him smile. She was in work mode. He could handle professional Liberty, since she wasn’t so hard to figure out.

  “Dane and Locke are done questioning the man who held those people prisoner.”

  Tate nodded and stood. “How long was I out?”

  “Half an hour, maybe.”

  He stretched. “How about you? Did you get some rest?” They both looked like they’d been through the wringer.

  “We are a pair, aren’t we?” She smiled. “Whoever is behind all this, we could just go scare them to death with how we look.”

  Tate gathered her into his arms and touched his lips to that beautiful smile of hers. “You never look bad. Even on a night like this. You’re so beautiful, Liberty.”

  She melted into his arms, and he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to kiss her some more. Regardless of what had happened between them, part of Tate would always belong to Liberty. And he realized then it was possible he would always love her.

  Dane cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry to interrupt.”

  He didn’t seem very sorry. Tate reluctantly turned to his friend. Dane grinned. “Time’s wasting.”

  They followed him, despite the fact that what he’d been doing was decidedly not a waste of time.

  Tate held Liberty’s hand, ignoring the look Locke shot him. He knew how Locke felt, as the man had shared plainly his view of Tate and Liberty’s relationship the day Tate quit the Secret Service. You aren’t good for her, Tate. I’m glad she broke it off, because she deserves better than a hothead like you.

  Except for the fact that it turned out it wasn’t better. Not for either of them. There was a lot to resolve, but he wasn’t letting Liberty go again.

  Not ever.

  * * *

  You’re so beautiful. Liberty hadn’t been able to resist him. Not when she remembered every time he’d said that in the past. She’d call his name in the office to ask him if he wanted coffee, and he’d say, Yeah, beautiful. Like that was her name.

  She’d loved it. And after the desert of the last year, Liberty had soaked it up like he was a fountain of fresh water. She just prayed it was going to last through what she would have to tell him. Even while she figured it was likely that he had a concussion and wasn’t thinking straight.

  She had to tread carefully and not lose the tiny part of what was left of her heart to him. That part she’d always kept for herself. Tate had most of it already, but she was in serious danger of just handing over the rest. Because if she had to cut off their relationship again, it would only hurt twice as badly.

  “Alana checked out the phone the man had,” Locke said, all business. “It was used to make each video, and they were still stored in the phone’s memory. We checked call history and text messages, but found nothing. It’s clean aside from the videos, and it’s unregistered.” He paused. “The only thing of note is that the phone’s browser was the home page for an email account. It was logged out, but we think that’s how they’re communicating with each other.”

  “Getting instructions from someone?” Liberty asked as she pushed aside everything that had just happened with Tate. They had to focus now, or this endless day of craziness would never be over. It was getting dark, and with the three hours of sleep she’d had the night before, Liberty was seriously flagging.

  Locke nodded. “That’s what we think. So Dane and I interviewed the man holding those people hostage, and I asked about the Venezuelan they want to be released. He claimed he had no idea who the guy was. He actually told me he’d only been with those people since earlier this afternoon.”

  “How can that be?”

  Liberty nodded at Tate’s question. She’d been about to ask the same one.

  Dane answered, “I think they switched out, passed off the people they were holding and the phone to a different person every few hours. Maybe he only knew where he was supposed to take them and didn’t know what instructions were given to the others.”

  “So they could’ve compartmentalized every part of this,” Liberty said. “From the man at Tate’s cabin with the flight recorder, to the ones who took us from the mine—the same ones I saw looking at the map. Then each one who was with the people they took.” She paused. “And how did they get the plane on the ground, anyway?”

  Locke said, “Alana spoke with the senator and the two staffers. They said the pilot was in on it. He cut the radio and then landed in a field. The men who took them were evidently supposed to pay him, but they shot the guy instead before they towed the plane into the mine.”

  Tate tapped the table with his fingers, a move he did when he was thinking. “I guess it’s possible if they were close to the mine and they had the right equipment. I can’t believe no one noticed, though.”

  “They said it was very early Friday morning and the sun hadn’t risen yet. Though if someone saw, they’re likely dead.” Locke’s face was grim. “These people seem to be covering their tracks well through all of this.”

  “And trying to frame me.”

  Liberty glanced at Tate. “And involving Braden. Though, maybe it was his idea to make you a part of this.”

  “I’ll ask him,” Dane said. “He’s next on my list for a conversation.”

  Tate nodded. “I still think it’s weird they tried to kill me.” He glanced at her. “Us. Multiple times. Framing me is one thing, but I didn’t necessarily have to be dead.”

  “Maybe it was because I showed up?” She thought it through, and wasn’t convinced, but it was a valid suggestion. “Or they simply figured you couldn’t convince anyone it wasn’t true if you were dead. A deal you made that went wrong?”

  Tate made a face.

  Liberty thought some more. “So they draw you in, and all the Secret Service agents are so busy looking at one of their own—”

  “Not anymore.”

  Liberty ignored his comment and said, “They wanted us looking the other way while they bargain for the release of the Venezuelan we have in prison. He could have nothing to do with this, just a name they used to ask us for something we couldn’t get easily, like a van or money. Releasing someone from prison is more complicated.”

  “So again, they’re trying to distract us?” Locke studied her like he was thinking through what she was saying. Liberty knew he respected her, but it was still nice to observe him taking her suggestions seriously.

  She shrugged. “But if they really are just trying to distract us all from the search, trying to divide our focus so it takes us longer, it didn’t work, did it? We found those people before the deadline, before they could make the next video.”

  “So we all go home,” Tate said. “Job complete, everyone’s headed home and the locals are tied up finishing out their investigation and dealing with the aftermath.”

  “You think they intended on it?” She stared at him, and he shrugged. She’d kind of figured he only kissed her because he’d hit his head and maybe he was reliving some old memories. But if he had the mental capacity to think all this through, maybe he’d been in his right mind.

  He’d called her beautiful. And kissed her.

  “What?”

  Liberty shook her head. “Uh, n
othing.” She paused. “Do you think there could really be something else going on?”

  Dane rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “The guy we arrested is clearly low level, so it isn’t too far of a stretch to think he’s being directed by someone else, given the email account. We need to find out who that person is.”

  Tate shook his head. “I’ll bet Braden knows.”

  “That’s why we should let him go,” Liberty said. “He could lead us to them.”

  “That’s a big stretch, Lib.” He looked almost sad. “Braden isn’t going to play alone. He’ll warn them, and then whoever it is could go to ground and never surface again. Or Braden will just spin his wheels, and we’ll be watching him for weeks.”

  Liberty sighed. “I could—”

  “No.”

  Locke said, “Do you think you could convince him to help us, Liberty?”

  She looked at Dane. “He’s facing charges, right?” When Dane nodded, she said, “Can we offer him a deal? Immunity in exchange for information on who it is and whether there’s a bigger plan in play?”

  Dane said, “I can talk to the district attorney.” He glanced at Locke, and then Tate. “It’s worth asking the question. If Braden is worried about blowback, then maybe we can convince them to add witness protection to the deal.”

  She wanted Tate to be okay with the plan rather than just resigned to it. “It’s a good idea.”

  Tate looked at her. “I’ll be working on others, and hopefully something will yield a result.”

  It wasn’t much, but she figured it was the best she’d get. As long as Braden cooperated, they might be able to get all the answers to their questions. Then Tate would see it had been a good idea.

  The door flung open. Alana appeared in the doorway, flushed. “Braden got out of his cuffs. He beat up the agent who was watching him and escaped!”

  They all stood up. Tate wobbled and set his hands on the table. She wanted to help him but held back so he didn’t think she was babying him. Dane looked ready to jump across the table and catch him.

  “Braden escaped?”

  Locke talked over Alana. “Is Patrick okay?”

  “He was just knocked out.”

  Relief flooded over Locke’s face. “Good. We don’t need any more injuries, and his getting hurt certainly wasn’t part of the plan.”

  Liberty swung around. “What did you say?”

  Tate’s voice was hard when he asked, “You let my brother escape on purpose?”

  Locke lifted both hands and shrugged. “Whoops.”

  SEVENTEEN

  “Are you kidding me?” Tate couldn’t believe this. Locke had actually planned to let Braden go? “At least tell me you have a man on him, following him wherever he goes?”

  “GPS tracking device,” Locke said, with no remorse on his face for what he’d done. “Plus a man following at a distance. The tracker is just insurance in case we lose him.”

  Tate shook his head while Locke pulled out his laptop and logged in. He brought up a map, and after a second an orange dot popped up on-screen. “There he is,” Locke said.

  “No deal?”

  Locke shrugged. “If Braden thinks he got away from us, then we get an honest response. We see his real motives, whether that’s helping them succeed or bringing you down. Or both.”

  Tate figured he knew which it was. “We should head out and follow him.” He didn’t wait for agreement, or permission. He wasn’t a Secret Service agent, so he didn’t need Locke to tell him to go ahead.

  Dane folded his arms. “I lent you guys my truck. You destroyed it.”

  Instead it was Locke who tossed Tate a set of keys.

  Liberty held out her hand for the keys, and he dropped them in her palm. “Concussion plus driving equals no.” The look in her eyes was soft.

  “I could do it.” Tate figured they needed to talk—or at least, he had some things to say—and he didn’t need her team to hear them.

  As they made their way to the vehicle, he said, “Thank you for driving.” Truth was, he probably wasn’t up to it.

  She looked at him ruefully. “I didn’t think you’d say that, of all things. But you’re welcome.” The smile was genuine, if tired at the edges. “You let me rest earlier. I figured I’d return the favor.”

  “I appreciate it.” He took another pill and swallowed down half the bottle of water. “Seriously, I do.” There was so much more to say, but he was exhausted.

  Tate awoke when the car engine shut off. He pushed aside the edges of fogginess from sleep and looked across the street. “This the place?”

  It was nothing but a closed-down old flooring store, still listed in the phone book last time he’d checked. Because, yes, he still used the phone book. How else was he supposed to find vendors for materials he needed? That and word of mouth were the internet of navigating a small town. Liberty wouldn’t understand, so he didn’t explain it. He doubted she could survive here.

  Still, he asked, “What do you think of my town?”

  “For vacation, or to live in?”

  Tate shrugged, like there wasn’t a world of difference between the two things.

  “It’s nice. I’d have to see it when it’s not all covered under piles of snow, but there’s a certain charm.” She smiled. “And what’s with the hospital? I wouldn’t think there are enough people here to justify a whole hospital.”

  Tate said, “It serves three counties, but it was built because this movie star moved to a ranch just outside of town. He donated money to fund the entire construction and then some.”

  “Why?”

  “Word is he has severe hemophilia. He wanted doctors and treatment—a whole surgical wing—close by in case there’s an accident and he’s bleeding internally.”

  “Wow, it must be serious.”

  “It can be.”

  “Do you know him?”

  Tate laughed. “I’ve done some work for him. When he has friends visit and they need added security, he’ll pull from local law enforcement. He’s actually looking for a permanent security detail, but I’m still considering it. I’m not sure I want to do the work full-time. It’s a lot of traveling.”

  “Oh.” Something in her gaze looked a whole lot like a spark of hope. Because he might be getting a job? Tate must not be much of a catch if she was just excited he might be gainfully employed.

  He pushed aside the disappointment and said, “So where’s Braden?” It was dark outside now, and there wasn’t much to see under the yellow glow of streetlamps. The truck smelled like cheeseburgers, and he realized why when she handed over a bag of greasy food.

  “Inside the building. We can’t get closer, so don’t ask.”

  Tate shot her a look and took a bite.

  “Dane told me, in no uncertain terms, not to let you get involved beyond staking out your brother. We have backup close by, and he said it was up to me to make sure he didn’t lose his best deputy.”

  Tate felt his eyebrows lift. “He said that?”

  Liberty nodded.

  “Huh.”

  “I didn’t doubt it for a second. You’re extremely dedicated, no matter if you’re remodeling a bathroom, protecting the president or bringing the law to a small Montana town. Maybe even if you’re on protection detail for a movie star.”

  Tate laughed.

  “Although I think the remodel might be a teensy bit of a waste of your abilities.” She dropped her hand where she’d held her finger and thumb an inch apart, and took a sip of her gallon-sized drink. “The movie star job is a better fit, I think. But it’s not my decision.”

  Everything in him stilled, and he worked not to show it. “I couldn’t do the protection job on my own,” he said very carefully. “I would need a team.”

  Liberty stared a
t him. “We’re supposed to be watching the building.” The words came out a whisper.

  “Let me worry about Braden. If he slips out of this door and for some reason we don’t see, GPS will tell us where he went.” Why didn’t she want to have this conversation? “There are plenty of people here watching Braden, right?”

  Liberty swallowed. Nodded.

  “You could work with me, Liberty.”

  “That’s a huge stretch from being broken up, Tate.”

  He didn’t smile, though a tiny part of him wanted to. He knew this was irrational, but love was never clearheaded. “I know that. And despite the fact that the past couple of days have been crazy, it’s clear to me things between us haven’t changed much. Even though we haven’t seen each other for a year, I know now I feel the same as I always did. That never went away.” He paused. “Tell me you haven’t thought the same.”

  “I can’t tell you that.” Liberty shook her head and looked out her window. “It would be a lie.”

  Tate said, “If you still care about me, and I still care about you, doesn’t that leave us in a place where we should at least try to work things out?”

  “By me quitting the Secret Service and moving across the country?”

  That wasn’t the part he wanted to talk about. Still, he said, “If you want me to move back to the East Coast, I would do it.”

  She turned back to him then, her eyes wide. “You would?”

  “I’ve always known you were worth it, Lib. That was never in question.” He sighed. “We had something good between us, something special, and I want to know why you threw it away. Why you threw us away.”

  His attention was half on the building’s front door, watching to see when Braden came out, and half on Liberty and the conversation they were having. But he saw the tear that ran down her cheek.

  She didn’t move to swipe it away. She just stared at him as though he’d pulled the foundation out from under her world. And maybe he had. Maybe the thing that had come between them was so big, it had rocked her to her very core. He’d always thought it had to have been something huge. Liberty didn’t make rash, emotional decisions. Despite her crying and then yelling at him that it was over, she’d stood her ground enough he knew she’d made up her mind, and there had been no changing it. That was what had made him so mad.