Shadows of Our Past

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Shadows of Our Past Page 2

by Tanya Jean Russell


  She banged her head against the desk. Her shock and desire subsided as her anger grew. It curled up through her veins, a welcome replacement for her earlier emotions. Anger was good, anger would keep her from creating difficult-to-explain bruising on her now tender forehead. Through all the worries about taking this job, and the makeover required to pull it off, she had never once been concerned about meeting someone from the past. After all, what were the chances that someone from the sort of undercover missions she normally undertook would be a part of this world? How the hell had they missed this?

  Chapter Three

  Running to the bathroom that was part of the office suite, Amory jabbed furiously at her mobile. Oblivious to the opulent surroundings, she almost growled with frustration as her impatient actions caused her to misdial before the call finally connected. She barely managed to prevent herself from shouting down the phone as James answered.

  “Jack Davies is here,” she said, knowing she sounded deranged just barking a random name at him.

  “What?” he asked. “Who is Jack Davies?”

  “He’s going by Jackson Halland now, he’s William’s brother, and he was the getaway driver on my first op. The op you were my handler for.”

  “Shit,” James said.

  Knowing that he’d finally caught up, she let all her frustration out. When she paused in her diatribe long enough to gulp a breath, James interjected.

  “We screwed up, Amory, but it’s too late to do anything now. We can’t get anyone else in without raising suspicion. You’ll just have to hope like hell he doesn’t remember.” He sighed, obviously trying to placate her.

  “What do you mean, hope he doesn’t remember? He may have gotten away with serving only half of his four years, but I’m the reason he was caught. I’m the reason they were all caught. He’s going to be on a rampage.”

  “Amory, please try and calm down. It’s been ten years and you don’t exactly look the same, especially at the moment,” James answered.

  Amory looked into the enormous mirror and had to agree. The groomed, sleek woman looking back was not Amory, she was all Olivia. Amory’s naturally auburn hair, which never did what it was told for more than five minutes after being brushed, was currently a mousey brown, and although the lack of control was still evident, it was sleeker than it had ever been. Her normal approach to makeup involved mascara, a necessity if she wanted to look like she actually had eyelashes, rather than just weird green dots in the middle of her face. On special occasions she even added lip gloss. It certainly wasn’t the Max Factor look that peered back at her from the mirror, eyes bright with anger and a hint of fear.

  The last night she and Jack had spent in that squat ten years ago was embedded into her mind. That mission had been her first taste of the grubby underside of life, and she’d been infiltrating a group suspected of pulling off a number of bookie heists. The challenge had been finding out who in the squat had been involved and getting enough information to make any charges stick. It had been her first undercover assignment. Her youth was the very reason she’d been selected for the task in the first place. She’d done well enough that she’d been recruited into James’s team within the Special Ops department permanently after that.

  What she’d never confided to anyone was that she’d naively and uncontrollably fallen in love. Memories of the brooding young man with a chip on his shoulder and a way of making the world shrink, until there was nothing but the two of them, flooded through her body.

  Struggling with her first attempts at professionalism and the endless lies she’d had to tell him, she had managed to maintain a physical distance, if not an emotional one. That all changed the last night she was undercover. Regardless of everything she thought she knew about herself, she had been too weak to resist. Ignoring the voice telling her it was a bad idea she had given herself to him, but in doing so she had taken more from him than she had had a right to. Especially when only she knew what they were getting themselves into.

  Then the very next day she had provided all the evidence needed to get both him and the rest of the group arrested, ignoring the knife she’d had to plunge into her own heart to do it. In order to maintain her covert status, her identity had been protected throughout the trial, and discounting her dreams, she’d never seen Jack again, until today.

  Reaching up to touch her flushed cheek, Amory realized James was still speaking.

  “You have to remember that although we knew William had a brother, we also knew they weren’t close. That’s why we didn’t research him. They barely see each other from one year to the next. You should only be there for a few weeks. The chances are you won’t be seeing Jackson Halland again.”

  “And if I do?” she asked.

  “If you do, and if he does recognize you, you know the drill. You’ve changed your name to make sure no one recognizes you from back then. You’ve reinvented yourself and you’d appreciate it if he could respect that and leave it alone, blah, blah, blah. It’s the standard defense strategy. I know you can do this.”

  He paused and she could imagine the silent sigh.

  “I’m sorry, Amory, we just didn’t connect the dots.”

  Taking a deep breath, she felt her Detective Chief Inspector’s reassurances begin to calm her. She’d worked for James her whole career, he’d been in charge of her first ever op and they’d worked together ever since. He was a great DCI and he was right. She simply had to wait for Jack to leave, then she’d never have to see him again. So why, along with the relief, did a weight settle in her stomach as she accepted that reality?

  Deciding it was just a physical response due to the lack of anything resembling either a private life or the presence of an even half-attractive man, Amory mentally pulled herself together. Smoothing the hair escaping from its restraints back into place, she returned to her desk. With half an eye on the door she watched the seconds drag by on the clock as the last of the afternoon passed, waiting so she could close the office up for the day. Sighing, she admitted to herself that mixed in with relief was the piercing disappointment that Jack hadn’t recognized her—that she hadn’t been in his thoughts all these years as he had hers.

  Chapter Four

  Walking through the house, Jackson felt the familiarity of his childhood home wrap around him. Despite the past and despite the house his wealth had allowed him to build, this place was still his home. He deliberately hadn’t told William he was coming to visit. Since becoming the Duke, his brother had become even more obsessed with tradition and status, which meant he’d insist on holding a formal dinner, one that befitted his younger brother, Lord Halland. Jackson definitely didn’t want the fuss that came with the title. For one thing, the debutantes who would undoubtedly have angled for an invitation were a part of his past that he definitely wanted to avoid. He could imagine them practically salivating at the idea of two unmarried peers of the realm in one room. William might be almost forty, but as the Duke of a huge swathe of the country he was a prime catch. He’d decided that a surprise visit would be better, so he supposed he shouldn’t be upset that William hadn’t mentioned having a brother to his new assistant-cum-lover, but he found that he was.

  He tracked William down sitting at the wrought iron bistro table on the veranda. It was positioned next to the ivy-clad low wall separating the veranda from the steps to the garden itself. He was surprised to note that the tray set out before his brother was untouched. William usually loved his afternoon cream tea but he seemed to be miles away, just staring out toward the lake. As Jackson walked to join him on the veranda he called out across the space to avoid startling William.

  “Good afternoon.”

  William jerked his head around toward him, strain clear in his furrowed brow and pale eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, he rose from his chair gracefully and stretched out his arm to shake Jackson’s hand.

  Jackson returned the gesture, greeting his brother before taking the seat next to him.

  “What a pleasant sur
prise. Were we expecting you?”

  “No, I just thought I’d pop down and say hi. I wanted to see how Ed’s getting on with the felling.”

  “I do wish you would provide notice of your visits. It’s improper for us not to celebrate your attendance here with a formal dinner.” He frowned at Jackson. “Although, how long will you be staying with us?”

  “Just until tomorrow, big brother, so don’t go getting any ideas about planning something. You know perfectly well I don’t give you notice specifically so you can’t make me endure another one of those evenings.”

  “Surely you wish to reacquaint yourself with polite society now that enough time has passed for people to forgive your transgressions?”

  “William! I may not have seen them at fancy dinners and formal balls since I was a teenager, but I see plenty of them out on the town, and I’ve had my fill. I can’t be bothered with all the hassle, especially dealing with women who know who I am.”

  William blinked hard before letting out a loud guffaw. “Absolutely hilarious! You always did know how to make me smile.”

  “I’m serious. I’ve had enough of dating women only interested in the title and endlessly hinting for a ring. I have no intention of getting married, so I’m done.”

  William continued laughing. Jackson couldn’t blame him, his reputation was well deserved when it came to women, but he was truly tired of it all.

  “Fine, don’t believe me. Anyway, enough of that. What’s got you frowning so hard?”

  “Pardon?” William asked, the frown reappearing.

  “You were staring off into the distance and frowning when I arrived. What’s up? Is this something to do with why my copy of the last bank statement had no transactions at all?”

  “Oh. It’s nothing,” William replied, waving his hand in dismissal.

  His jaunty tone sounded forced to Jackson, who frowned back at his brother.

  “Lord Jackson, how wonderful to see you,” shouted a voice before he could quiz his brother further.

  He turned to see Maggie barreling toward him. As always, she wore an apron tied around her waist and her hair piled on top of her head. Her eyes still sported the electric blue eyeshadow his mother had once gifted her with, although these days the color creased into the folds of her wrinkles. He guessed the original was long gone but she obviously kept buying more. He rose with his arms outstretched to catch her in a hug, and sucked in a deep breath of the scent of cinnamon and sunshine that always surrounded her. Maggie had been a constant bright spot in his life.

  “You are entirely too familiar with the help,” William piped up.

  “Oh you!” Maggie chastised. “There’s enough hugs to go around!”

  Jackson and William laughed as she pulled Jackson to the side so she could awkwardly slide one arm around William as he remained seated. Her arrival had stopped him from being able to quiz William any further about the bank statement, but he knew his brother well enough to know he’d have had to pull back anyway if he didn’t want him to clam up completely.

  “How’s Ed?”

  “He’s grand. He’s out in the woods, will you be joining him?” she asked hopefully.

  He knew Maggie worried for her husband more with every passing year. His increasing age wasn’t slowing him down much, but Maggie fretted that he was overdoing it. Even with how much he had going on with his own company, Jackson always tried to make it to the estate ahead of the felling completion deadline. He tried to be there to help with the upkeep of the grounds that required the most physical labor.

  “Yep, of course. Does me good to keep my hand in,” he said, knowing that Ed would not appreciate him turning up out of concern for his health.

  “Are you stopping for long? Will you be around for the ball on Saturday?”

  “Afraid not, I’m just here until tomorrow evening.” He silently added, thank God. A ball was the last thing he wanted to go to. He’d arranged for Celia to be invited again, as he did every year, but had forgotten the ball was this weekend. “Thanks for sending Celia’s invitation though, she always loves it.”

  “I’m glad she’ll make it again. She deserves a treat for looking after you the rest of the year. At least if you’re here until tomorrow I have time to make a hearty dinner for tonight to feed you. You’re turning into a skinny malinky, God knows what you’re eating these days.”

  “That sounds great, thanks, Maggie,” he said warmly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Only Maggie would think someone over six foot three with the kind of bulk that came from doing physical work all day was skinny.

  Chapter Five

  Running her fingers along the edges of the photo that she hadn’t let out of her sight since James gave it to her just two weeks ago, Amory pulled her shoulders back and sucked in a breath. She was in this and she was just going to have to play it by ear. As the day wore on, she was feeling rather pleased with herself for managing to get some of the mind-boggling spreadsheet calculations to work. Then William reappeared.

  “I apologize for my short temper earlier. I know you are trying your best,” he muttered as he returned to his office. The insinuation that her best wasn’t quite good enough was clear in his tone.

  She smiled at William’s retreating back. At least he was trying, even if he managed to make it sound like an insult. In some ways this situation was harder for him than it was for her.

  The sharp trill of the phone interrupted her reverie. As she lifted the receiver, the sound of a harsh Eastern European accent on the other end requesting to speak with William sent a jolt of adrenalin through her system.

  Leaping to her feet, suddenly energized, she didn’t bother slipping her feet back into the lilac court shoes this time. She grabbed the headset and ran barefoot as fast as she could, barreling through the heavy wood door into William’s office. The first time she’d seen it she’d wondered if he was color-blind. The guy clearly had a thing for green, literally everything was green, or a dark wood. The odd flourish of brass gleamed from lamps and handles, but otherwise it seemed he was trying to recreate a forest. Even the carpet was a deep emerald.

  Almost tripping over the edge of the rug that William’s desk was positioned on, she stubbed her toes as she completed her mad dash.

  “Aargh, stupid mat,” she muttered as she caught herself at the last moment on the corner of William’s desk, scraping her palm and knocking his lamp as she did so.

  At William’s startled expression she waggled the headset, nodding at him and perching on one of the seats in front of his desk to attach it to the phone before connecting the call through to him.

  “It’s him,” she said breathlessly. William blanched, his complexion paling, his eyes widening. Mentally shaking herself for forgetting to calm him for the call, Amory gently reminded him, for the umpteenth time, to get a meeting with Marek Berishka out of the call, and that no matter what she needed to be part of that meeting.

  As she reached out to touch his hand in reassurance, the gesture seemed to shake him from his stupor and he flinched away from her, a curt nod showing her that he understood.

  She connected the call and waited for her heart to slow down as she sat silently listening to the accented voice that barked down the line. The sound sent a chill up her spine, and set every hair on her scalp on end. With the ease of practice she tamped down her personal feelings and managed to keep her focus on the call, ignoring the crawling sensation that the voice created, and instead guiding William as he stumbled over the arrangements to meet Berishka.

  Scribbling frantically, she jotted down reminders in big bold letters—RAC, AGREE DATE NOW. By the time the call ended, less than three minutes later, they had arrangements to meet Berishka at the Royal Automobile Club in London, of which William was a private member, in two days’ time.

  William was visibly shaking as he hung up the phone. Unthinkingly she reached across the desk, gently placing her hand reassuringly on his forearm. He glared at her before shrugging abruptly away from the co
ntact and standing up with a jerky movement.

  “Make sure you look the part on Thursday,” he said, his voice wobbling slightly as he stalked out of the office again.

  He was generally distant but she’d already noticed he became a pretty snotty version of himself when Marek came up. It wasn’t really surprising, but it was a pain in the butt to deal with regardless. It’s not like he was sunshine and flowers to start with, so she wouldn’t have thought there was much further downhill to go, but she was wrong, very definitely wrong.

  Deciding to take advantage of his absence, Amory moved to William’s sumptuously padded chair. She swiveled it around to pop her feet on the desk as she dialed out to call in the arrangements for Thursday. The burst of adrenaline and excitement that things were finally moving made it much easier for her to shrug off William’s behavior and the curveball of Jackson turning up. She wasn’t going to walk away now. She unconsciously rubbed her tender palm as she spoke. The promise of action, progress, and a possible end in sight made her mood buoyant, erasing the last remnants of the creeping fear that Berishka’s voice had created.

  Chapter Six

  As soon as the clock chimed five p.m., Amory dashed out of the office and headed to her room. She was going to put all her restless energy to good use and go for a much overdue run. Despite not being a big fan of exercise, she didn’t really have a lot of choice about keeping reasonably fit, as staying fit meant staying safe. Over time she’d found she actually enjoyed running. Not all the time like some complete lunatic—there were limits after all—but there was a definite feel-good factor from doing it when you were really charged up. Even when she had to force herself it usually felt good afterward, especially as it meant she could eat a Crunchie without any guilt. The delicious chocolate-covered honeycomb crisp was her absolute favorite.

  Maybe the exercise would help keep her mind off of Jackson. Now that Berishka had called, there wasn’t a chance in hell she was leaving, so the best she could hope for would be to avoid him. His bike was still here, but with any luck he’d be shut up in a room somewhere, catching up with William. Flinging her jacket on the chair and flopping onto the bed, she tried to shove the memories of Jack out of her mind.

 

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