Covert Threat (A Gray Ghost Novel Book 5)

by Amy McKinley

  For the fifth time, I glanced at the clock. The day had dragged since Trev had dropped me off, even with all the work to do to prepare the next military dosage. I’d tweaked the vector and wanted to run a few more tests before we left for Washington at the end of the week.

  Peter shifted, and I caught a glimpse of his monitor. Goose bumps broke out across my skin. “What are you doing?”

  He turned to me, his thick brows furrowed. “Answering Dr. Mikhailov’s questions about whether we learned who was responsible for the anthrax attack.”

  “No.” I shook my head adamantly. “You cannot update him or anyone there about what’s happened here. Were you not paying attention in the meeting?” I ran my hand over my forehead in an attempt to relieve the tension. Fran would’ve been on top of things. Peter wasn’t working out. Plus, I’d caught him digging through some of my past work, studying the calculations, tests, and results. I didn’t like it and had confronted him. He’d claimed he was curious and wanted to familiarize himself with past work to better anticipate how to work with me. Something about his reasoning rang as odd to me, but I couldn’t think of why I should bring it to Carl’s attention. Peter frowned, his lips in a thin line, and my irritation spiked even higher.

  “I wasn’t in that meeting. Remember?”

  Oh, shoot. This is on me, at least sort of. He’d come in late again, and the tasks I had to have him finish before the meeting hadn’t been addressed. I’d set him to those instead when he’d strolled in. “That’s right. You were chasing after the FDA person to ensure this last batch would be tested immediately when I’m done with it.” Still… “Didn’t Carl pull you into the office to give you a summary of what we talked about?” I swore he’d said he would when I told him where Peter was.

  He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his thin chest. “No. Why don’t you tell me.”

  I didn’t like his attitude but couldn’t really blame him for feeling out of the loop. It was a big deal. “After the anthrax incident, we were to stop all assistance with the Russian lab until further investigations are done.” At least my conscience was clear—we’d ensured they had enough of the antibodies for those infected.

  The defensive position he’d assumed fell away as his arms dropped down. “Wouldn’t Dr. Mikhailov be aware that we cut off communications?”

  I nodded.

  “I get that we need to tighten security, but are we seriously assuming Russian scientists, whom we are helping, would attack us with anthrax?”

  It did seem a little far-fetched, but not when we looked at some of the coincidences that had taken place. “While this particular anthrax wasn’t proven to have come from Siberia, I’m sure you’ll remember that an outbreak happened in the early twentieth century due to thawing permafrost. There are too many parallels pointing to an unknown threat from Russia. What have you shared with him?”

  “Not much, at least nothing of significance. He only contacted me this morning to ask about what had happened and if we’d learned about who was responsible for the attack.”

  “You need to let Carl know about this.” After Peter left to do so, I couldn’t stop thinking about all that had happened.

  Where the leak about the restricted military vector came from continued to be a concern. I wasn’t sure if my unknown attacker was from our military or someone from Russia. And if they’d been sent from overseas, the threat was bigger than we’d thought.

  Peter popped back in, jarring me from my thoughts.

  “Everything okay?”

  His thin hair was mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. “Yes. Carl is aware of Dr. Mikhailov fishing for information. He said he’d confer with Rich Stevens, some CIA person. I’m going to get coffee.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t have too many problems with Peter, but if his agitated behavior continued, he wouldn’t be a good fit for me to work with. A momentary jolt of panic sliced through me—could Peter be part of the leak about our tool kit’s vector? If Russia’s goal is to gain unlimited access to the delta-32 injections, does that mean they plan to wield a bioweapon against the United States while their infiltrators are genetically protected? I would have to talk to Trev about it.

  A heavy weight landed on my shoulder, and I jumped in my chair, startled. My head tilted back to see whose hand rested there. Carl. The squeeze he gave me sent an uneasy jolt to my gut. Every time our paths had crossed that day, my boss had touched me. It was strange and not at all welcomed.

  I clenched my teeth to keep from snapping at him then turned in my chair and pushed back a few inches so he was forced to drop his hand. “Something I can help you with, Carl?” What is going on? He’d never been anything but professional with me. I guessed it was possible that I was reading the exchange incorrectly.

  He leaned against the edge of my desk, drumming his fingers on the surface. Each tap sent my blood pressure higher. “I was thinking about our trip to Washington. Instead of flying in late Thursday, we could take off from here, after work today. That way, we’d gain a day and could go to dinner and a show.”

  I barely stopped my mouth from falling open. Was he asking me out on a date? We were flying nonstop. Leaving early Thursday morning gave us that night at a hotel, and then we would work all day Friday in DC. “What is this about? If you’re asking me out, that’s not in any way acceptable.” I couldn’t wrap my head around what was going on with him. “Where is this coming from?”

  “I’m confused, Jules.” He frowned. “You were the one who approached me about going early.”

  In whose reality? “No, Carl, I did not. And not only is it incredibly unprofessional and offensive that you’d imply I asked you—my boss—out on a date, but your attention today is unacceptable.”

  Confusion clouded his eyes as my voice rose in volume, drawing the notice of my colleagues. Good—they would be witnesses if Carl ever put me in a position like that again. It boggled my mind, as it wasn’t typical of him. “I’ll talk with Trev about when we leave for Washington. I believe he’s flying us?” It really wasn’t a question. He would be with me. I would make sure of it, and so would Trev.

  Carl frowned. “No need to run anything by Trev.”

  “What about Dr. Mikhailov contacting Peter?”

  “I’ve put a call into Rich. I plan to inform him so we’re all on the same page.”

  That was good, I guessed. Why he didn’t want me to check with Trev about flying out was odd, though. At least my anger had run its course. There was no way Carl would pull anything like that in the future, not if he wanted me to continue to work for him, and I knew for a fact he valued my contributions above all else.

  “Another thing I wanted to confirm with you was replacing Trev on the weekends. He can continue to drive you to and from work as we’d first arranged, but another company will monitor your house over the weekend.”

  “Why?” Alarm caused my back to straighten even more. “Trev works around my schedule, and I feel safe with him. I don’t want to have to get to deal with someone else.”

  He knocked his knuckles against my desk twice. “We’ll see. Let me know the results when you finish testing.”

  “Yeah, sure.” What the hell is going on with him?

  Pushing that crazy conversation from my mind, I got back to work. I glanced at my silent phone again, wondering why I hadn’t heard from Trev at all. That wasn’t normal. Shrugging, I vowed to calm down. I’m sure he’s busy. With another peek at the clock, I texted him to tell him what time I would be out front.

  Unlike the rest of the day, that last hour flew by. I pushed the heavy door open and stepped out on the sidewalk just as Trev pulled up to the curve. Exhaustion beat at me. He jogged around the car and opened my door. My eyes drifted shut as he resumed his seat behind the wheel.

  “Tired?” he asked.

  “Beyond so. I want to go home, put on pajamas, and have a glass of wine before I pass out.”

  “I’m sure. It was a long day. Fun, though.”


  I could hear the smile in his voice but was too exhausted to question him about why it was “fun.” Maybe it was for him. I didn’t want to get into it. Minimal effort was all I could manage at the moment.

  We pulled up my driveway, and I dragged myself out of the SUV and up the pathway to my front door. I loved the little crescent-moon window in the door. It made it look like a fairy tale. Sometimes that’s what I needed. I wanted off the roller-coaster ride of weirdness going on.

  I put the key into the lock just as Trev spoke.

  “How early do you want to go out on the boat tomorrow?”

  My hand froze. I looked over my shoulder at him. “What are you talking about?”

  His brows furrowed. “We talked about going out in the morning before work. Possibly swimming, if it isn’t too cold.”

  What the hell? “I never said I’d go on the boat or swim out there.” First Carl’s strange behavior, and now Trev?

  “Are you feeling okay?” Concern swam in his eyes as he reached out to caress my cheek.

  I jerked my head back. I was sick of people telling me how I’d done or said something I never had. “No. I’m not,” I snapped.

  “What is going on, Jules?” His brows furrowed, and irritation tugged at the corners of his lips. “I’m getting whiplash with your mind games.”

  Mind games? Oh, no. I’m not going to put up with that. “I’m mentally and physically exhausted. I need a break tonight.” I pushed the door open.

  He took a step toward me, not even flashing his panty-melting grin. If he had, it would have helped his case. I held up my hand, palm out, and gentled my voice. “I’m going inside and crashing. Alone. I’ll see you in the morning if you want to go for a run on the beach.”

  The shrill beep of my alarm pulled me from a ten-hour sleep, which I’d desperately needed. I slammed my hand down on the off button. I lazily blinked my eyes, willing them to focus, then turned on my side to get up.

  A gentle breeze blew through my room, fluttering the curtains. I’d left the window cracked open, even though Trev hadn’t slept over. I had no doubt he’d kept on eye on the house. Knowing he was out there enabled me to have a restful night—he just made me feel safe.

  I pushed myself up and out of bed, letting the covers fall where they may. I needed to brush my teeth and splash some water on my face to wake up. I had another long day ahead of me, running tests in the lab, after I went for a run on the beach. I threw on shorts and a sports bra, ready to leave the bathroom when an image above the sink caught my eye. I paused. Is there something in the mirror? Something out of place, that shouldn’t be there?

  My heart rate picked up while I sucked in air and willed myself to look again. Ever since I could remember, I had a fear of mirrors—especially at night. I wasn’t entirely sure why.

  I was being a wimp. There wouldn’t be anything unusual there, but rational thought didn’t matter. Dread held me rooted to the spot, and I struggled to turn my head and face the silvery surface. Ever since that morning when I’d seen something odd in the reflection, an irrational fear had danced on the outskirts of my consciousness. Taking a deep breath, I forced my gaze to the steamy mirror.

  Holy hell. I sagged against the sink in relief. It was nothing. But when I turned halfway from the vanity, I swore I saw something else flit across the reflective surface. A hand had covered one of my own in a tight grip. A curtain of dark-brown hair obscured my face. Then there was the flash of a knife. I staggered backward. It can’t be real. My mind is playing tricks on me. God only knows why this is happening. A brutal pain sliced my brain, followed by a lingering headache and a sudden realization of what the image was: my memories were trying to return.

  I bent over the counter, turned the faucet on, and splashed my face with cold water. Even though my hands shook, I swore to myself that it wasn’t real—with only a portion of the image, I didn’t have the whole picture. I was tired or sleepwalking but also clearly not knowing what I’d lived through. For the time being, I would let it go, as I needed more of the memory to surface. With a finality that impressed even me, I dried my face and left the bathroom, not once checking the mirror again.

  Struggling to dismiss what happened but forcing myself, I shoved my feet into my running shoes, exited the house, and made my way down to the beach. Air whooshed past my parted lips. Trev stood there, waiting. My shoulders dropped at least an inch, and the tension drained from them. Everything will be okay.

  I gave him a small wave and kicked my pace up into a brisk jog. He matched my stride, taking the cues that I didn’t want to talk. It was early, and I wanted to let the peacefulness of the morning sink in. There were so many questions and accusations about things that had not happened surrounding me that I needed some space. Thankfully, he seemed to understand my unspoken plea for silence.

  I matched him as he lengthened his stride and increased speed. My arms swung by my side, heels digging into the damp sand, and I pushed off with my toes. I felt my muscles straining as I fell into a welcome trancelike running zone beside him, our paces syncing as we raced to the pier two miles away.

  Adrenaline fueled my body and helped to process the worry over testing, deadlines, and any potential threat when I would administer the next tool kit procedure.

  The awkwardness with Peter worked to the forefront of my thoughts, and I briefly told Trev while we ran.

  “I haven’t been crazy about him working with you, either,” he admitted. “So far, he’s checked out, but I’m not comfortable with him.”

  We shifted to avoid a larger wave as it broke near our feet. “Okay. Thanks for checking up on him.”

  “We’ll continue to keep an eye on him. Also, I disassembled your alarm clock to look for a trip wire or something that would stop the time at a certain number. I didn’t find anything.”

  “That’s good, I suppose.” We fell back into silence as we increased the pace. I needed to get back and get ready for work, so we turned at the pier and headed back.

  Our run was quick and exactly what I’d needed. In no time at all, I’d showered, eaten, and after Trev dropped me off, I buried myself in my work. The day that was supposed to drag, with monotonous tests and trials, flew by. I was packing up when Carl waved me into his office.

  The door was open. He sat behind his desk in a white oxford and dark-red-and-navy-striped tie. Behind him, the blinds were partially closed over the large windows, effectively shielding my eyes from the sun. I stood there for a minute, but he didn’t seem to notice me as he read a document. Rapping my knuckles against the doorjamb, I took a step inside. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Juliana, yes. Please sit.”

  Alarm caused my hands to tremble. “What did you call me?”

  His brows furrowed. “Your name. Is everything all right?”

  “Why did you use my full name?” No one did that. Ever. Not since Mom…

  “I wasn’t aware that I did.” He leaned back, and his chair squeaked. “Please sit. I’d like to talk to you about Trev.”

  I lowered myself into a chair across from him, my mind whirling from hearing “Juliana” on someone other than my mom’s lips. It didn’t feel right, and my world had tilted on its axis and was refusing to settle back.

  “I’ve thought about what you said the other day and then again last night, and I went ahead and let Trev go. There haven’t been any other incidents, and after his company looked into the military personnel that you’ll be interacting with, I’m confident of your safety.”

  Panic shot through me, and I jerked forward in my chair so I was sitting on the edge of my seat. “What about the anthrax attack?”

  “We’ve increased security in the building, and the mail is being screened.”

  “I don’t know what you mean by ‘last night.’ Why would you let him go after I told you how much I didn’t want to work with someone new? Now you’re telling me there won’t be anyone?” I clasped my hands in my lap to stop them from shaking, but no matter how har
d I tried, I couldn’t keep my voice from rising. “Where is this coming from?”

  Carl frowned, and I noticed several heads swivel our way from the glass window separating his office from the rest of the lab. “Our discussion yesterday was completely different than what you’re insinuating. You said yourself that there was no longer a need for a security detail and that everything that’d happened was either a coincidence or at the very least over with.”

  I shot to my feet. “No. I never said any of those things.” Maybe I had chalked everything up to coincidence at one point, but that was in the very beginning.

  Carl frowned. “Are you okay, Jules?”

  I slammed my lips together to avoid inadvertently telling him precisely what I was feeling at the moment. After taking several deep breaths through my nose, I felt marginally calmer. “Not really, Carl. I’m going home. We can talk about this again in the morning.” With that, I pivoted on my heel and walked out of his office. Would he still be going to DC early? I brushed the question aside. I didn’t want to deal with him anymore.

  I ducked my head as I passed by a few colleagues, who stared at me. It was none of their business.

  With furious fingers, I texted Trev that I was ready to go. Please be there. I hoped he’d at least finish out the day and pick me up. My phone buzzed, and his response, Already out front, flooded me with relief.

  “Have a good night, Dr. Moretti.”

  I absently waved at Josh, the security guard, as I rushed past the security desk and shoved the heavy door open. On the sidewalk, I didn’t stop until I’d reached Trev. He was leaning against his Range Rover, a frown marring his face as soon as he saw me.

  I dropped my gaze, and he stepped aside, opening the passenger door as he did so. I jumped inside, and he shut the door. Once he was seated too, he turned to me. Please don’t say you’re quitting. Before he spoke, I rushed forward with my idea. “I don’t know why Carl decided to let you go, but I can pay you. I-I don’t feel safe. Something strange is happening, and until we figure it out, I don’t want to be alone.” The thought of how Fran died flashed in my mind, and I realized how afraid I was. I needed him.