Love Inspired Suspense March 2015 - Box Set 1 of 2: Protection DetailHidden AgendaBroken Silence

by Shirlee McCoy

  A moment later, he came back to the ladder. “I don’t see him,” Ed whispered.

  “What do you mean? Where’d he go?” Bailey asked.

  Ed shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s not up here.”

  Bailey climbed the ladder, desperate to see for herself. She knew she’d heard those footsteps. Todd was here somewhere. He didn’t just disappear.

  But when she reached the loft, what Ed said was confirmed. It was empty.

  “What’s going on?” Bailey whispered.

  “I wish I knew.”

  Just then, the wall slid open and Todd stood there, an unreadable expression on his face.

  *

  “Please. I can explain,” Todd started, raising his hands in the air. “Just don’t shoot me.”

  “Then start talking,” Ed groused.

  “Your dad asked me to build this room. I didn’t ask any questions. I just did as he asked.” He stood in the doorway on the other side of the loft, frozen.

  Ed observed how the wall was still made with old wood, so based on outer appearances, no one could tell there was anything different. He’d done a good job concealing the space.

  “So, why did you sneak up here now?” Bailey asked.

  “Mr. Carter told me I couldn’t tell anyone this was here. Anyone. But now he’s dead, and I wondered if there was something in here that I should know about.”

  “Why would you need to know about anything?” Ed asked.

  “What if there were explosives in here? Or dead bodies? I don’t know. Everyone on the island thought your dad was a spook. I had no idea what was in here. But now that he’s not here, I thought it deserved a check.”

  Ed pointed with his gun toward the wall. “What’s in there?”

  Todd shrugged. “It’s a darkroom.”

  “A darkroom?” Certainly Ed hadn’t heard correctly.

  Todd nodded. “Like a photographer might use to process pictures.”

  “And you’re telling me my dad, who was in his sixties, came out here, climbed that ladder and went into a darkroom?” Something wasn’t adding up. Ed just couldn’t see his father doing that. Not unless it was for a really important reason.

  “I never saw him do it. I can’t imagine who else this room would be for.”

  Ed turned to Bailey. “You have any idea what this is about?”

  “I’m just as perplexed as you are,” she admitted. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “You’ve got to believe me when I say I’m not guilty of anything here,” Todd insisted. “I just wanted to check things out, make sure everything was okay in here.”

  “Todd, you told me you got back to the island on the day after the storm. Someone else told me they saw you here before the storm. Why did you lie?” Bailey asked.

  ”I didn’t,” he said. “I did come back two days before the storm. Then some people on the mainland hired me to help them board up their homes and prepare for high winds we were supposed to have, so I left again.” He looked back and forth from Bailey and Ed. “What’s going on here? Why do you have a gun anyway?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “What…what are you going to do now?” Todd stared at the gun still.

  “I haven’t decided.” Just as he said the words, something clicked in Ed’s mind.

  He knew why his father had a darkroom. He also knew why he had the microscope and the other equipment. There was only one reason his father would have risked coming up here. Only one reason why his father would want a hidden room.

  “Todd, please go finish the window. I’ll handle things here.”

  “You’re not going to shoot me?”

  Ed shook his head and put his gun away. “Of course not. What do you think, that I’m some kind of barbarian?”

  Todd didn’t say anything else. He simply scrambled past and hurried down the ladder.

  Ed stared into the opening of the room. He knew exactly what he needed to look for. He just prayed to God he could find it.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Stepping into the room, Ed began looking around. Everything had fallen into place in his mind.

  He searched through all the equipment, but didn’t find anything. That meant his father had hidden the information, and that he’d hidden it well. Maybe too well. Like a needle in a haystack, which was fitting, since they were in a loft in a barn.

  “Can you tell me what’s going on?” Bailey asked. She leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed.

  Ed paused, leaning against the table. “I can’t tell you.”

  She shook her head, disillusionment in her gaze. “After everything we’ve been through together, you can’t tell me?”

  He wished he could. He really did. And most of the time, he thought he could trust Bailey. But every once in a while, he caught a glimpse of something in her eyes. Something that she was hiding.

  And until he knew what that something was, he couldn’t tell her about his realization. It was too risky. There was too much at stake.

  “I’m sorry, Bailey. As soon as I can, I’ll tell you.”

  She shook her head and straightened. “You’re serious?”

  He nodded, unable to ignore the accusation and hurt in her gaze. “It’s complicated.”

  “I’d say.” Her voice sounded just above a whisper.

  He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Bailey, why don’t you tell me your secret? Then I’ll share mine.”

  Her face went slack, and he knew he’d hit the nail on the head. She did have a secret. Was she working for the other side? Did she have some kind of personal stake in all of this?

  “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looked tortured as she looked up at him. Her voice trembled.

  He closed the space between them, wishing he could read the look in her eyes a little better. She almost looked scared. But what reason would she have for being scared? “Why not? Why can’t you tell me, Bailey?”

  “It’s complicated,” she said, echoing his earlier words.

  The two stared at each other a moment until finally Bailey stepped back, tears pouring down her cheeks. “I’m going to go make myself useful.”

  Ed’s heart clutched with a mix of grief, betrayal and distrust. He never wanted to see Bailey cry again…but until they were both able to be honest with each other, he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen again.

  *

  Three hours later, Bailey’s anxiety only continued to increase. The deadline that bully had given her was tomorrow. If she didn’t find that information tonight, then her sister would die. Ed obviously knew something, but he wasn’t sharing. Part of her couldn’t blame him.

  But despair was threatening to overtake her. She had to keep her sister safe; she simply had no idea how.

  After Todd left, the state police stopped by to ask questions about the body found on shore. She and Ed remained cordial to each other, but it was obvious a wall had gone up between them.

  As soon as it turned eight, Bailey stood and stretched. “I’m going to turn in for the evening. It’s been a long day.”

  Ed nodded from the recliner, where he’d absently been staring at the fire. “Good night, then.”

  Just as she took a step away, he called her back. Bailey paused, holding her breath, secretly hoping that he would share something with her—something that would help.

  “I just wanted you to know that my friend Micah may be stopping by tomorrow. He said he found out something, but he wants to share that information in person.”

  Alarm jolted through her. Was Micah who he claimed to be? Or was he working for the bad guys?

  She nodded weakly, desperately needing to think things through. “Got it,” she finally muttered.

  Ed’s gaze stayed on her, asking her silent questions that she didn’t answer. He knew she was acting strange, and she wished more than anything that she could tell him the reasons why. But she couldn’t. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  She waited an hour after she heard Ed ret
reat to his room downstairs. The house finally went silent. She pictured Ed exhausted and falling into a deep sleep. That was probably wishful thinking, however. He was like a loyal guard dog—always on alert, always watching and anticipating.

  Her best guess was still the library. Moving quietly, she opened her door and stepped out into the hallway. She gently pulled the door shut behind her and began tiptoeing down the hall.

  Ed seemed to have animal-like instincts at times; she prayed he wouldn’t hear her now.

  She reached the library without a sign of anyone behind her. Maybe—just maybe—this would work. She could hope, at least. But if Ed found out she was keeping this secret, she feared he might kick her out of the house and never trust her again.

  Not only would this “mission” be lost, but so would the start of what could have been a great relationship with Ed. She’d felt secure, protected, cherished even. She hadn’t felt that way in a long time—maybe ever. Though they’d only known each other a short time, she already couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  Moving quickly but quietly, she started from scratch, as if she’d never searched this room before. She looked in books, under knickknacks, in every crevice of the desk there.

  She found nothing.

  What was she even looking for? Papers? Files? A jump drive or a disk? She had no idea, which only made this more complicated. Maybe this information was on a picture. Would that explain the photo lab in the barn? She didn’t know, and her head was spinning from exhaustion and stress.

  Finally, she sat back on the floor, feeling defeated. She had no idea. She’d searched every part of this room she thought possible. Where did she go from here?

  She closed her eyes and replayed Mr. Carter’s last days, the days when he was still mobile. They’d gone for a couple of walks on the bay. They’d sat on the porch. They’d spent a lot of time in front of the fireplace.

  Other than that, they’d done their usual. She’d read to him. They’d eaten meals together. He’d told her about the different places he’d been in the world.

  Was there a clue in any of that? She didn’t see how there could be.

  She refused to let the tears that wanted to spill over escape onto her cheeks. She wasn’t going to give up. Not yet. She’d fight this until the end.

  She started back up to her room, needing to regroup. At the last minute, she headed up to the widow’s walk. It’d been her sanctuary for weeks and maybe now it would help clear her head.

  Quietly, she climbed the spiral staircase. At the top, she found comfort in the fact that the area was relatively uncluttered. The only things in the space were a small padded bench and a plant that she’d promised to water. At least she had no fear of someone hiding up here.

  That didn’t stop apprehension from filling her as she took her first step.

  No, no one would be hiding, but being up here did make her feel exposed. Since it was so dark outside, no one should be able to see her, she told herself.

  She sat on the bench and pulled her knees to her chest, praying for some kind of answer or solution. She was plain out of ideas.

  If that information were in the house, where would Mr. Carter have put it? They’d searched everywhere. Even the garage, the closets, drawers, under rugs and behind paintings.

  The only place they hadn’t searched was…up here.

  This area was so empty, so sparsely decorated, that the thought had never occurred to them.

  She stood. It was incredibly dark, but her eyes had adjusted some to the blackness. Her options were limited, but it was worth a shot.

  She lifted the cushion of her bench and held her breath.

  There was nothing there.

  She flipped the bench over and examined the bottom.

  Again, nothing.

  Next, she looked under the rug and under the potted plant. She didn’t find anything and familiar desperation began to set in.

  The last thing she did was to pull the potted plant out of the decorative pot it had been placed in.

  What she saw there made her suck in a deep breath.

  It was a small, clear bag.

  With something inside.

  She carefully lifted it and broke the seal at the top. Inside, there were two envelopes. The first one had Ed’s name on it. The second one had hers.

  Her hands trembled as she opened the letter and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She held the note close, trying to make out the handwritten words. It was no use. It was just too dark, too hard to see.

  She’d have to take the letters down to her room and read her letter there.

  Anticipation zipped through her muscles and bones.

  If this weren’t the “information,” maybe it would offer a clue as to what that information was or how to find it.

  It made sense now. Mr. Carter knew she loved it up here. He had to figure she’d eventually discover this hiding spot. In fact, he’d said something about taking this plant with her if anything ever happened to him. She’d never put it together before.

  She had to get downstairs and—

  “I’ll take those,” someone said.

  Bailey gasped and jumped back a step.

  She looked up to see a man and woman standing at the door by the stairway. The man pointed a gun at her, while the woman had her hand outstretched, waiting for the letters. The woman was petite and thin with short black hair and a heart-shaped face. There was nothing heartlike about her eyes, though. They looked cold, calculating and like she could strike at any minute.

  “Who are you?”

  The man smirked. “Last-minute changes to a person’s will can raise red flags.”

  Those were the same words that… Bailey swung her gaze toward the man and gasped. She fully expected to see A.J. Andrews.

  But it wasn’t. Or was it? He looked different. There was no cleft chin. His cheekbones weren’t as high. His hair wasn’t as full.

  “A.J.?”

  “The real A.J. Andrews is dead. He had an unfortunate accident. The man you spoke with at the office was my younger brother. Most people call me Sanderson.”

  “You’re behind all of this?”

  He smiled at her as if the answer to that question was obvious. “I figured in good time you’d lead me to the information. Good work, Bailey.”

  Bailey shook her head and pulled the letters closer to her chest. “They’re just goodbye letters. Not information.”

  “If they’re just goodbye letters, why don’t you hand them over? It shouldn’t be a big deal,” the woman crooned, raising a thinly arched eyebrow.

  “It’s a big deal because they’re mine, not yours.” Bailey had to buy time. She had to think!

  Sanderson cocked the gun. “Are you willing to give up your life for those letters?”

  Bailey’s shoulders tightened. “You’re going to kill me anyway. I’m not naive.”

  The woman reached into her pocket and threw something at Bailey. She braced herself for a flare, an explosion…pain. Instead, she saw a flashlight roll at her feet.

  “Read it out loud,” the woman instructed.

  “Who are you anyway?” Bailey asked as she reached down for the light.

  “I wouldn’t ask many questions right now,” the woman said.

  Bailey flicked the light on, trying to control the tremble in her hands.

  The man and woman blocked the only entrance and exit from the room. They had a gun, and Bailey didn’t. There were two of them and one of her.

  This wasn’t good, and she had no idea how to get out of the situation.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Ed paused at the staircase as voices drifted downward.

  “This is the only thing I could find.” Bailey. That was Bailey’s voice, he realized.

  “I don’t see how this helps,” someone else said. Another woman.

  “I don’t see how, either, but I’ve looked everywhere,” Bailey said.

  What? Bailey was secretly looking for the information on her own? Wh
y would she do that…unless she was working for someone? Someone who wasn’t on his side.

  The pain of betrayal sliced through him again. When would he learn he couldn’t trust people? Especially women.

  The betrayal turned into a surge of anger.

  He had to put an end to whatever secret meeting was going on up there.

  “We were counting on you. You’ve disappointed me,” a female voice sounded.

  He froze in the stairway, just out of sight. Why did that voice sound familiar? Realization dawned on him. He knew that voice. He knew that voice well.

  So well that the sound of that person made his blood turn cold.

  Claire.

  His ex-fiancée.

  The one who was working for a terrorist organization.

  She’d been in on all of this the whole time? But why? Unless she wanted the information Reginald had obtained. In the wrong hands, the wrong people could use it to bend diplomatic decisions. They could hold it as leverage over decision makers here in America.

  “I’ll take those papers,” Claire said.

  “Why?” Bailey said. “There’s nothing there. You heard what’s here. It’s nothing.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “I just need more time,” Bailey pleaded.

  “We’ve given you plenty of time. We gave you one simple task and you failed.”

  “Please, there’s got to be another way.” Bailey’s voice almost sounded laced with panic.

  Had she sold out to the other side, and now she wanted to get back in their good graces? Maybe her working here wasn’t a coincidence after all. Maybe she was a manipulator, just like nearly everyone else in his life had been.

  He took a step back and contemplated his next move. He’d have to plan carefully, with no room for mistakes.

  *

  Bailey stared at the two people in front of her, still wondering how in the world she was going to get herself out of this situation.

  “Take her down,” Sanderson muttered, nodding toward Bailey.

  “No!” Bailey yelled as the woman raised her gun.

  Suddenly, someone flew into the room. Sanderson crashed onto the floor, but not before a bullet flew through the air. Glass shattered.

  Ed. That was Ed.

  Before Bailey could think twice, she ran toward the woman. She aimed low and her shoulder hit the woman’s midsection. The two tumbled onto the ground.