The Marked Bride (Shadow Watchers Book 1)

by Vicki Hinze

  Tell him! Be honest. Keep your promise or you’re doing just what was done to you. You know how that’s played out. Responding to her conscience, she said, “Almost without secrets.” She dipped her chin. “I have to tell you something, and then we’ll be without secrets.”

  “Shh.” He nuzzled her neck. “I need a minute first.”

  That surprised her. “A minute?”

  “A moment,” he amended. “Just to soak it all in.” He inhaled deeply, drinking in her scent. “I thought we’d never have this day. I need to feel it.”

  His admission touched her heart. “I’m that important to you?”

  He looked deeply into her eyes, let her see the truth. “You’re everything to me.”

  Her heart tripped, thudded. Everything. She was his everything. Trying to grasp that, to slot it all knowing it, made her feel wanted and accepted, valued and . . . significant, and more. So much more. Alien feelings swirled inside her. She failed to comprehend them all. New and strange feelings. It would take time. Wonderful, sweet time in a life well lived.

  “I see it, Mandy,” he said softly. “I had trouble at first, but it’s clear now.”

  “What’s clear?”

  “Our life. It really is going to be extraordinary.” He whispered against her neck, then twirled her on the dance floor.

  “Absolutely.” She drew the promise in deep, embraced it, harbored it in a chamber in her heart, then placed a butterfly kiss to his neck. “I’m grateful for you, Tim. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, but I am. I always have been.”

  “I’m grateful for you, too.”

  Others joined them on the dance floor.

  In Tim’s arms, Mandy rested her head on his shoulder and let all their troubles and worries drift away. The risks and dangers they faced melted into distant murky puddles. When they must, they’d address them. But for now, for this moment, they were safe to embrace and enjoy being in love, celebrating their marriage.

  This one . . . perfect . . . moment in their new extraordinary life.

  The reception wound down without incident and, per Mark’s suggestion, the couple went through the motions of their departure with Sam behind the limo’s wheel.

  When Jeff Meyer signaled the all-clear, Sam doubled back to the resort, drove around back, and pulled to a stop near where Lisa stood, holding a door open.

  Mandy and Tim stepped inside, and Lisa told Sam, “Park and come back in this way. Use a two-three signal so I know it’s you.”

  Mark grunted. “He has a tactical throat mic, honey.”

  Lisa hiked her chin. “Which anyone from NINA could force him to use.” She folded her arms and stood her post next to the door. “If you want in, signal me, Sam.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Tim and Mark shared a look. “She had a good point,” Tim said.

  “She often does,” Mark conceded. “We’ll wait for Sam,” he told Nick.

  Seated at a conference table with a laptop unlike any Mandy had ever seen in front of him, Nick nodded to Mark and Mandy asked, “What are all those things connected to your computer?”

  “Security,” Nick said, keying something in, then blacking out the screen. “I hope you enjoyed the reception.”

  “It was perfect. All of it was perfect—with one exception. You weren’t there and you owe me a dance,” Mandy told him. She’d danced with all of the other guys, but Nick never had surfaced from this room. From the half-eaten plate of food on a tray cradled near the door, someone had seen to it he’d at least eaten.

  He followed her glance. “Nora.”

  The village mother. “Of course.”

  “And I was there. I saw everything. Good to see you happy, Mandy.”

  This from the wallow on the dark-side Nick? “Thank you. It feels a little alien, but I like it.”

  “Don’t ever let go.” Clearly, a warning in that. “It’s a long way back.”

  What had happened to him? Taken him down the dark road. “I’ll do my best. That’s a promise for us both.”

  The awaited two-three signal sounded at the door. Lisa opened it and Sam entered, pulling his tie loose. “Man, I hate these things.”

  He’d worn it in deference to her. “Thanks for enduring it, Sam. I appreciate it. The photos will be great.”

  “It’s a sacrifice.” He grunted. “But you’re worth it.”

  Mark steered Lisa to the table. “Seats, folks. Let’s get this done. There’s a honeymoon waiting to start.”

  Chairs scraped the tiled floor and everyone sat down. Nick at the foot of the table with his laptop. Mark at the head with Lisa to his left. Mandy sat beside her with Tim beyond her and next to Nick. Sam and Joe sat across the table from Mandy and Tim.

  “Go, bro.” Joe lifted a hand.

  Nick tapped the keys and a screen descended from the ceiling. “As you all know, we struck a match on the prints Mandy collected.” He spared her a glance. “Good call.”

  She nodded but didn’t interrupt, watched the screen. An image of a man projected onto it. Blonde, fair, angled features, and somehow oddly familiar. Had she met him? She turned to look at Tim. He stared at her, his mouth slightly agape.

  What was wrong? Did he recognize the man? She glanced at the others, and they all stared, their gazes darting from the screen to Mandy then back again. Uneasy, she shifted on her seat. “I don’t know him, but he looks a little familiar. I’m not sure why. I know we’ve never met.”

  Everyone seemed uneasy and the tension around the table ratcheted up.

  “Hand her a mirror and she’ll figure it out.”

  She looked at Joe. “What does that mean?”

  “It means no one wants to state the obvious.” Without giving her a chance to say more, he turned to Nick. “What’s his name?”

  “Chase Olsson. He’s a Swedish actor.”

  That didn’t help a bit. “So he was hired by my father to pretend to be him at the wedding?”

  Nick nodded. “Apparently Charles Travest hired Chase Olsson to pretend to be Travest today.”

  “And my father is . . . where?”

  Nick slid his gaze to Mark, who shot him a subtle negative nod she would have missed if she hadn’t been closely watching them both. Again, Nick looked at her.

  “Olsson isn’t just an actor, is he?” Mandy asked.

  Nick hesitated. “No, he isn’t.”

  She skimmed Tim. Tense. “Just let Nick talk. I don’t want protecting. We tried that. It didn’t work.”

  “Sorry, Tim.” Nick grunted. “Olsson’s a suspected NINA operative.” Nick pressed a key and the slide advanced. “According to Omega One—don’t ask any questions about him, Mandy—Charles Travest murdered this man soon after he thought he’d murdered your mother.”

  Thought he’d murdered her. So they knew she was alive. Mandy’s heart thudded. She didn’t dare risk looking at Tim.

  A bench at a little oceanfront park filled the screen. “This was the scene of Olsson’s murder.”

  “He’s not dead, Nick,” Mark said. “He was here today.”

  “Right. Travest hired Olsson to pretend to be him for a meeting with this man.” The slide advanced yet again and another man with a familiar face and dark hair appeared on the screen. “This is Paul Johnson, a very well known NINA operative.”

  Tim rubbed at his neck. “Wait. NINA sends Paul Johnson to meet with Travest and Travest puts Olsson in to sub for him? Why would he do that? Did Travest expect NINA to take him out or something?”

  “It’s possible, but we aren’t certain. Fortunately, DHS—“

  “DHS?” Mandy asked.

  “Department of Homeland Security. I can’t be more specific on exactly who. I wasn’t told what agency,” Tim said. “DHS intercepted Travest’s hired gun and replaced him with with one of its own. Otherwise, Travest’s shooter would have killed Olsson and a runner he hired to get his money back from Olsson after that shooting.”

  “He killed a runner, too?” Lisa asked.

>   “He would have, yes, without DHS’s substitution,” Nick said, confirming it.

  Sam groaned. Joe sighed. “Kind of DHS to keep us in the loop.”

  “Happens all the time,” Mark said. “Need to know basis.”

  “Dang—and don’t even threaten me about saying it.” Sam’s face burned red with anger, his expression twisted. “We needed to know, Mark. They forget we’re on the same side again?”

  Nick, not Mark answered. “Getting clearance to bring us in—and Omega One in—took time.”

  “This has to stop.” Tim frowned at Mark.

  “I’m all over that,” Mark said, his tone level but the look in his eyes scorching.

  So DHS had withheld information from Omega One and the Shadow Watchers, which hampered their ability to do what they needed to do and no doubt caused some cross-over complications. Mandy was glad not to be on the receiving end of the anger around this table, but what Nick had revealed . . . it took her breath away.

  Her father was capable of murder. She stiffened. Capable of multiple murders.

  Shame washed through her. What kind of monster was he? “Do I have this straight?” she asked. “Olsson subs for my father and meets with Johnson. After the meeting, my father pays Olsson. Then he has an assassin he hired shoot Olsson. And then the runner—I’m assuming my father hired him also—retrieves the money from Olsson’s supposed corpse and returns it to my father. Afterward, the runner is also shot.” She struggled to absorb it all. “Is that right?”

  “Yes.” Nick confirmed it. “DHS substituted a man for the shooter and warned Olsson and the runner. Neither was killed, but otherwise, yours is a fair recap of what happened.” Nick lifted a finger. “Though we’d all feel better if we knew for fact how Travest knew Olsson hadn’t been killed then, and how he came to be here today. That puzzle piece is still missing.”

  “NINA,” Mandy said. “If they made my father and Olsson come here, Travest would think they’d spared Olsson at the park.” She thought about it. “That’s all that makes sense because Charles Travest would not come here to walk me down the aisle and expose to anyone he’s my father.”

  “Possible,” Nick said. “Probably was forced. When we pick up Olsson, he’ll enlighten us. So far, Travest isn’t keen on explaining anything but he had no trouble paying Olsson to step in for him today.”

  So sometime between then—the shooting incident—and now, her father had learned Olsson was alive. He wouldn’t hire him again, not unless forced. Mandy considered keeping her mouth shut, but she couldn’t do it. “Do you have any evidence that NINA knew Charles Travest?” Never again would she call or consider him her father. Not after all this. “I mean, did NINA know his real identity?”

  Nick perked up. “What’s your point?”

  “He’s militant about protecting himself,” she said. “I don’t find it odd at all for him to have hired an actor to pretend to be him. That’s just more of the same. Conceal his identity, and take himself out of any potential lines of fire. He’s all about him. He always has been, Nick. You need to remember that.”

  Mark frowned. “Could he really work for NINA and them not know who he is?”

  “No way, buddy.” Sam grunted. “NINA’s far too thorough to miss something like that.”

  “Sam’s right. But--” Joe lifted a fingertip “—there are benefits to NINA in letting Travest think his identity is unknown to them.”

  Tim nodded. “Added protection for the organization, should he be reluctant to carry out orders and they need to yank his chain.”

  “Exactly.” Joe agreed. “DHS had to know it, though. Otherwise, why would they intercede and sub in one of their own?”

  “Mandy, why are you still frowning?” Tim asked.

  “If Travest thought he’d killed the actor, he wouldn’t hire him again to pretend to be him here unless he learned about the substitution, that Olsson was alive, and Travest was forced to accept him as the sub. I mean who wants to hire someone they tried and failed to kill?”

  Tim nodded. “Logical, but there is another possible explanation.”

  “What?” Mandy said, then waited.

  “Travest didn’t find out about the substitution or that Olsson was still alive. He thought he’d hired someone else.”

  “Olson one-upped Travest, took on a new identity and tricked him.” Mandy could see it. “That makes more sense.”

  She studied Olsson’s image on the screen. He looked like . . . her! The truth slammed into her. Travesty wasn’t her father. Olson was! Her mind darted through the past, seeking confirmation, replaying Travest’s distance from her. He didn’t love her because she wasn’t his. Olsson. She stared at the man she so resembled. He’d come to walk her down the aisle. In a bizarre way, this helped so much in her life make sense. “Has anyone checked Olsson’s financials?” she asked.

  “Working on that,” Nick said. “Why?”

  She swiveled her gaze to him. “Because I think you’ll find a link between him and my mother. He could be the source of the thirty million.” She looked at Tim, started to tell him she thought this man and not Travest was her real father, but couldn’t quite voice her suspicions aloud. Not just yet.

  “She’s sharp,” Nick told Tim.

  They already knew.

  Nick clicked, and a new image appeared on the screen. This one of yet another man.

  “Who is he?” Mark asked.

  “He doesn’t exist.” Nick propped an arm on the table’s edge. “This is the park’s security tape. Olsson wearing a mask that NINA thought was Travest. Well, that was supposed to be Travest when he met with Paul Johnson.”

  Sam sniffed, dragged a hand through his curly hair. “Olsson, a runner, a shooter—Travest went to a lot of trouble to keep his identity secret.”

  “Of course he did.” Mandy resented it. Oh, how she resented it. Bitterness seeped into her every pore, and an even more unwelcome thought followed. One that set her chin to quivering. Her mother knew. She knew Charles Travest was Jackal all along.

  Tim and Mark shared a look loaded with a don’t do it warning that confused Mandy. “What?” she asked.

  “No real need to speculate,” Nick said. “Omega One is all over it.”

  “He’s arrested Travest?” Tim asked Nick.

  “In the process of bringing him in for further interrogation.”

  Mandy swallowed hard. “What about his family?”

  Tim answered her. “They’ll bring them in, too. For context, if nothing else.”

  All those years of secrets and lies . . . and now this. And how did her mother fit into this maze? She had to be NINA. She had to know about Travest. That’s the only way all of the puzzle pieces fit into place. Oh, mercy. Her father and her mother really were mixed up with NINA?

  Tim—none of the guys—would take this news well. Mandy would always be suspect. None of them had treated her as if fearing she wasn’t who she seemed or as if she had ulterior motives, and Tim loved her, but how could he not—they not—be suspicious of her now? Both parents? They’d have to doubt her. And even if they didn’t, Intel honchos would and they’d insist the guys doubt her, too.

  Active or not, it didn’t matter. Intel couldn’t take out what it had put into men’s heads and, as a result, it had lots of weird little rules. No one trusted anyone until they’d proven trustworthy. Her having both parents involved with the enemy couldn’t bode well for her. And maybe not for Tim.

  When first we try to deceive . . .

  She cut off the quote running through her mind and substituted her own.

  We complicate and destroy others’ lives.

  And there’s nothing they can do about it.

  Frustrated, she stared at the screen. Olsson’s image returned to it and stayed.

  So familiar . . . Oddly so . . .

  Hand her a mirror. She’ll figure it out.

  Joe’s words replayed in her mind. A mirror . . .

  The truth slammed into her. “Oh, sweet mercy.” She
couldn’t stand it another second. “I look just like him.”

  Tim clasped her hand. “Mandy?”

  She looked past him to Nick. “Is he . . . somehow related to me?” That was the best she could manage.

  It was enough. “We’re waiting for lab results.”

  Mark stood up. “Let’s break for a minute.”

  No one moved except Nick. He backed away from the table and walked to the edge of the room.

  “I’m sorry, Mandy.” Tim clasped her hand. “We wanted to spare you from this today.”

  “Don’t.” She let her emotions settle. “Considering the kind of man Travest is, it wouldn’t break my heart not to be related to him. I thought I had to be his or he wouldn’t have let me believe I was, but Olsson… I’m not Travest’s daughter, am I?

  “We don’t think so. But he might believe you are.” Tim glanced again at the screen. “Although how he could look at Olsson and you and not see the strong resemblance, I don't have a clue.”

  “I didn’t see it myself,” she reminded Tim. “Not at first.” A sinking feeling settled over her like a shroud. “Having one father ignore me wasn’t enough. I have to have two?”

  “You’ve never seen Olsson then?”

  “Before today, who knows?” She lifted her shoulders. “He has great masks. I’m not sure who I’ve met and not met. Were those Tuesday visits to my mother really Charles Travest? Or Olsson wearing a Charles Travest mask? Or were they someone different every time masquerading as Travest?” She hated this. Hated the uncertainty and doubt chewing her up inside. Hated the irony that it could have been her real father—Chase Olsson—who’d walked her down the aisle and she hadn’t known it. “I don’t know much of anything—not when it comes to my parents.”

  Tim glanced away and thought that through.

  Nick returned to the table. “Omega One just reported in. Right after Chase Olsson left the church, he was intercepted. After brief questioning, he made a break and disappeared.”

  “Another mask,” Mandy speculated.

  “Appears so,” Nick said, confirming it. “They’ve issued an alert and everyone’s watching, but with the way he changes his appearance, confidence of a second interception is low.”