Convenient Lies

by Robin Patchen

  Julien’s laugh turned into a cough, then a groan. “How else could I find out if I could trust you?”

  “No!” The pitch in Farah’s voice rose. “You’re lying. You love me, not that whore. You tracked her down to find your son.”

  “I came for them both,”

  “Liar!” Her scream pierced the small room.

  Farah lunged around the table.

  Rae cradled the baby and waited for the bullet.

  Julien threw himself on top of Rae and Johnny. His body was heavy, and it took all her effort not to crush Johnny beneath them both.

  A gunshot.

  The pantry door slammed open. Another gunshot.

  Rae fought to get out from beneath Julien to see what was happening. She was trapped.

  Heavy footsteps.

  “She’s down.” Brady’s voice. Thank God.

  Then someone pulled Julien off her.

  “He’s hurt.” Another voice.

  Rae pushed herself to a sitting position, still holding Johnny.

  Farah was lying a few feet away. Blood seeped from her forehead. Her eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.

  Nausea rose in Rae’s throat.

  Someone was screaming. It took her a moment to realize it was Johnny. Rae rocked him. “It’s okay, baby. Shh…” She pushed the chair aside to see Julien, who was lying a few feet away surrounded by uniformed men.

  In the gap between the people, she saw bright red blood covering the floor beneath her husband. A new wound.

  Brady kneeled on the floor beside her. His face was filled with concern. He scanned her shirt, and his eyes widened. “Are you hit?”

  “I’m okay.”

  Brady looked past her, fear in his eyes.

  Rae felt a person crouch behind her. She turned to see another uniformed man. The one she’d seen at the police department. He touched her back in a few places before she heard, “No wounds.”

  “Johnny?” Brady said.

  “He’s fine. Julien—”

  “Bullets can penetrate. Are you sure you’re not hit?”

  “I’m all right.” She looked at the baby, who was screaming, but unharmed. “We’re all right. How’s Julien?”

  Brady turned his attention to her husband, and Rae scrambled around him to see. His eyes were open, and he blinked. He wheezed in a breath, let it out. Blood seeped from his abdomen, bubbled from his lips.

  Brady turned to the other cop. “We need an ambulance.”

  Julien grasped Rae’s free hand. “No.”

  Rae squeezed. “But you’re—”

  “It’s the only way.” He wheezed again and looked at Brady. “You can still save them.”

  Brady looked at Rae. “What’s he talking about?”

  Julien answered. “Papa will...” A thin breath. “Find her... She’ll tell you. Please.” His eyes closed, his breathing paused.

  Brady leaned closer. “What do you want me to do?” He looked at Rae. “Do you know?”

  She rocked her baby and wept. “He doesn’t want us to save him.”

  Brady looked at her, looked at little Johnny, still screaming in her arms. Then he turned his attention back to Julien.

  She watched through a haze of tears as Brady checked his pulse, then met Rae’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Sixty-Eight

  Police filled the space. Too many. Brady left Rae on the floor beside her husband and found the chief in the living room. “We have to keep this quiet.”

  The man regarded Brady with narrowed eyes. “We have so far.”

  Brady studied the cops already in Rae’s house, then looked out the open front door at the police cars in the driveway. “We have to make sure nobody talks about what happened here.”

  They both watched as an ambulance wheeled into the driveway.

  Brady turned back to the chief. “Seems our terrorist had a plan. He wanted to protect her. I haven’t got the details yet, but I’m sure it’ll be better if we don’t make it public knowledge that he died here. Not if we want to keep his father from finding Rae.”

  The chief ran a hand over his nearly bald head, then spoke into his radio. “I need everybody in the front yard, now.”

  “Don’t tell them to keep it quiet,” Brady said. “Just give them a story. Prowlers. Kids. Something like that.”

  The chief nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell them we were wrong about it being Moreau, and we’re still getting information.”

  “Thank you.” Brady returned to the kitchen and crouched beside Rae, who seemed to be guarding Julien’s body. “Can I take the baby?”

  She shook her head and held Johnny tighter.

  “Okay. Can I help you up? Let’s go into the living room.”

  She looked at him, unsure. Her face had paled, and she looked confused. A moment later, she leaned over her husband’s body and kissed his forehead. Brady looked away while she said goodbye. Finally, she leaned back, and he helped her stand.

  They walked into the living room as the paramedics entered the kitchen. He eased her onto the sofa, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it around her.

  “Stay here until the paramedics can check on you.”

  “He didn’t hurt me,” she said. “He’s trying to protect me.”

  Was, but Brady didn’t correct her. “You’re in shock. Stay here, okay?”

  She rocked Johnny. They both cried.

  “Brady, I found something.”

  He followed the sound to the stairs. Eric was on his way down. “They were tied up in one of the bedrooms.”

  Nate Boyle and Caro Nolan were behind Eric.

  Brady met Nate’s eyes. “Thank God.”

  He nodded to Eric as he passed, then clasped Nate on the shoulder. The man winced.

  “Sorry. Are you hurt?” Stupid question. The man’s face was more black and blue than not.

  Nate turned to Caro, who seemed untouched, then back to Brady. “We survived. How’s Rae?”

  “She and the baby are fine.”

  Nate nodded but couldn’t seem to speak past the emotion. Brady looked away to give him a minute to rein it in.

  Caro reached the landing. Silent tears fell from her eyes, but otherwise she seemed fine. Brady pulled her into a hug and held her tight. After a moment, she pulled away and wiped her tears. “Are my grandparents here?”

  “I’ll have someone take you to them. Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head. “They never touched me.”

  Brady regarded the girl, her bright red hair and wide eyes. “I’m so glad. You were very brave.”

  “Not even. I almost peed my pants when that lady walked in.”

  Lady? Brady would get the whole story soon enough. “But you didn’t?”

  “Just barely.”

  “That’s better than a lot could have done.” He spoke into his radio. “Eric, come back.”

  The door opened a moment later. Brady asked him to take care of Caro, and the two walked out the front door. Brady turned his attention back to Nate. One of his eyes was swollen shut. His lip was swollen to match. Brady figured there were a lot more wounds beneath the clothes. “You need a paramedic.”

  Nate shook his head and headed into the living room. He crouched beside Rae.

  She looked up from the baby, met Nate’s eyes, then leaned onto his shoulder. She didn’t speak a word, but she didn’t need to.

  Nate wrapped his arms around her while Brady propped against the door jamb, arms crossed, and watched. They’d been together, Nate and Rae. Nate had known about Rae’s new name. Known all this time where she’d been and what she’d been doing.

  On the other hand, Nate had been a friend to her. As jealous as Brady was, he wouldn’t begrudge her that friendship. She’d needed it, and God knew she hadn’t wanted it from him. He tuned into their conversation, though he probably should have walked away.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I never meant to put you in danger.”

  “You didn’t know.”

  “I shouldn’t ha
ve called you. I made you a target.”

  He released her and sat back on his haunches. “I was his only connection to your former life. Whether you called me or not, I was in their crosshairs. There’s nothing you could have done.”

  “I should have known.”

  “There was no way you could have, Rae.” He smoothed her hair. “You fell in love with the wrong guy. I don’t blame you.”

  She looked at Johnny, then back at Nate. “You’ve always been too good to me.”

  He shrugged and glanced at Brady.

  Brady shifted his gaze away until he heard Nate talking to Rae again. “I need to tell Brady what I know. You okay?”

  “I will be.” She grabbed his hand. “Thank you, Nate. I owe you.”

  “Nothing.” He stood and returned to Brady. “Let’s go outside.”

  “All right.” He looked at Rae. “Wait for the paramedics, okay?”

  She nodded, and Brady led Nate out the front door. They passed the police officers, who were crowded around the chief. Caro was sitting on a stretcher, talking on the phone, smiling through her tears. Brady led Nate halfway down the driveway, where they could speak privately. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

  “First, call your father.”

  “You need to hear what I know.”

  “Just tell him you’re alive, okay? And nothing else.”

  Nate grabbed the phone, dialed his father, and walked away. Brady stared at the scene in front of Rae’s house and remembered that awful day the police had come to reclaim the kidnapped baby so many years before. He’d held Rae’s hand while the chief—Officer Jamison back then—had handcuffed her mother and settled her into the backseat of the cruiser.

  And now this. He prayed this house had seen the end of its place in crime drama.

  Nate returned, eyes red, and handed Brady the phone. “They snatched me Friday morning right outside my house.”

  Brady listened to the story with horror and respect for this man who’d risked everything to protect Reagan.

  “But when they blew up that coffee shop in New York,” Nate said, “I saw the lengths Hector was willing to go to find her. It was one thing for me to get hurt, but I was already thinking I was going to have to tell them where she was. Rae wouldn’t want those people to die to protect her.”

  “Hector? Not Julien?”

  “Julien lost his lunch when he saw it on the news. He had no idea what Hector’d been planning. He knew it was bad, though. He had the chance to stop it and chose not to. I think he’d have done anything to get Rae back.”

  Brady watched the paramedics as they carried Julien’s body from the house. “The bombing—that was the last straw for Rae too. She was planning to go back to him.”

  “Thank God she didn’t. I don’t know everything, but I’m pretty sure Julien’s father would have killed her.”

  “If Julien didn’t first,” Brady said.

  Nate shook his head. “Julien wouldn’t have hurt her.” He looked around at the display of police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks. “He wanted her to survive.”

  Brady let that nugget of information settle in. In his own demented way, the man had loved Rae. What did that mean for them?

  “So I heard a little of what he told Rae, but why don’t you tell me what you know of his plan?” Brady asked. “How do I protect her from Alejandro Moreau?”

  “First, you need to come up with a plausible story. You need to keep Julien’s name out of the news and far from here.”

  “We’re working on that.”

  “Moreau has an enemy, a terrorist working mostly in Northern Africa. Name’s Aziz. Apparently, whenever that guy assassinates someone, he leaves a poker chip on the body. It’s his calling card. Julien knew he was going to die. At some point today, he seemed to stop trying to figure out how to get her home. I think he decided he’d just let himself die. After he sent Farah after Caro and the baby, he told me the plan, because he wanted me to make sure someone would do it. He’d left a poker chip on Hector’s body, and he has one in his pocket. He wanted his father to believe Aziz killed him.”

  “And that takes the pressure off Rae how?”

  “Julien used Hector’s phone to text his father, throw him off her track. Hector had been checking in often. Alejandro will be looking for her in Asia.”

  “So why the poker chip?”

  “Because Julien’s brother was working with this Aziz guy, so their father will think it was Geoffrey, his brother, who was behind Julien’s murder. That’ll pit father against son. Divide the empire.”

  Brady considered that. “So if the father and brother are working against each other, maybe the evidence Rae brought—”

  “Coupled with the flash drive Julien has, Interpol should be able to mount a case against them. And if they’re working against each other...”

  “They could bring down the entire empire.”

  “Bingo.”

  Brady stared off into the trees, nodding slowly. “Wow. This is...” Bringing down an international crime family. That ought to land him the chief’s job.

  Funny. He didn’t really care. As long as Rae was safe, Brady would take whatever job the department had for him. Heck, he’d wait tables in the diner as long as Rae was safe.

  He looked back at Nate. “What about the woman? Farah?”

  “She seemed so sweet. That other cop told me she shot Julien.”

  The memory came before Brady was able to stop it.

  He’d been listening behind the pantry door. Much of it had been muffled at the end, but from what he could piece together, it had seemed like they weren’t going to have to rescue Rae after all. Julien was going to let himself die, and it seemed he wanted her to survive. As Brady had breathed a sigh of relief, a new voice joined the conversation. He could barely make out her words, especially over the baby’s crying, but he clearly heard Julien’s when he’d said, “Put the gun down.”

  Brady had turned the knob then. The woman’s scream had him through the door an instant too late. If Julien hadn’t thrown himself on top of Rae, Farah’s bullet would have hit her. Maybe killed her. Or Johnny.

  Brady had been too late to stop Farah’s bullet, but not too late to stop the woman for good.

  He’d fired off the shot before she could fire a second. If he hadn’t been there, would Farah have slaughtered them all?

  He never thought he’d owe Julien Moreau a debt of gratitude, but the man had saved Rae’s life.

  “I couldn’t hear what Farah was saying through the door,” Brady said. “Do you know?”

  “What door?”

  Brady shook his head. “Never mind. Do you know what she was doing?”

  “No idea. I just know she left us tied to Rae’s grandmother’s bed, and I assume she crept downstairs to hear what was going on. And then we heard gunshots.”

  Maybe Rae could shed some light, though at this point, it didn’t really matter. The official report couldn’t have any of these details. “Anything else I need to know?”

  “I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  “Thank you. For protecting her.”

  Nate nodded once. “Did she tell you about her and me?”

  He swallowed hard, kept his voice even. “She did.”

  “It was a long time ago, after you two broke up.”

  “I know.”

  “I cared for her.”

  Brady said nothing. What was there to say?

  “But her heart always belonged to you.” Nate lifted the eyebrow over the only eye he could open. “You two are back together?”

  “Does that bother you?”

  Nate chuckled, then winced. “I think I’ve had just about as much of Reagan McAdams as I can handle in this lifetime.”

  Brady felt the first real smile since the whole thing had begun. “She can be a little high-maintenance.”

  “You said it.”

  “When we found out Julien had you, we thought you were a goner.”

  �
��You and me both.”

  Brady nodded toward the ambulance. “Let the paramedics take a look at you.” He held out his hand, and Nate shook it. “Thank you.”

  Nate looked around. “Biggest story of my life, and I can’t report it.”

  “You sorry about that?”

  “Not a bit.” He walked toward the ambulance, where a paramedic situated him on a gurney. Brady figured Nate might’ve argued if he hadn’t been so tired he was about to drop.

  He turned to see the chief waiting on the porch for him. Brady approached and filled him in on Moreau’s plan.

  “Okay,” the chief said. “I’ll contact the FBI. I’m sure they’ll be happy to take over if we turn over all the evidence.”

  “So much for my big collar,” Brady said.

  The chief clasped him on the shoulder. “It might not be official, but I know about it.”

  “They’re safe. That’s all I care about.”

  Jamison squeezed his shoulder. “Go on in and check on them. We’ll figure the rest out later.”

  Sixty-Nine

  Brady passed Rae’s house on his way to work Friday morning. Less than a week had passed since Julien’s death. Brady’d spent most of that time battling between the FBI and Interpol, debriefing, and trying to protect Rae from some of it. They’d grilled her more than he liked. Seemed Interpol was confident that between the files Rae gave them and the evidence Julien supplied, they would be able to bring down the entire operation. Still, Brady’s primary concern was keeping Rae safe.

  So far, the truth about what happened that day at her house hadn’t leaked. Most of the townspeople believed the story Brady’d given the reporter at the local paper that a couple of kids looking for trouble happened upon the McAdams house. They’d invaded, taking Caro and the baby hostage. The police had snuck in and arrested the perpetrators. The story was that the intruders were under eighteen, so he’d refused to release their names or the details about who they were. The reporter from the Gazette was, of course, skeptical, but everybody involved was toeing the line. Trent, the kid who’d given Moreau Rae’s location, and Finn had agreed to keep the story quiet in exchange for community service. If either of them leaked it, felony charges would be filed. Nearly a week had passed, and the story was already fading away. And with it, Brady hoped, the truth about what had really happened that day.