by Misty Evans
“Colton,”—Shelby motioned at the man in the bed—“you remember Wyatt Evers. The man who infiltrated 12 September and then managed to get a message back to the CIA about Connor’s whereabouts.”
He sat back. “That’s not Evers.”
Daniel pointed at his face. “Plastic surgery, brother, and a lot of bleach on my hair.”
A lift of Colton’s brows. “No way.”
Shelby nodded. Zeb grinned.
“So Ingram killed the wrong man,” Colton said. “Then who’s the dead guy we thought was you?”
Daniel/Wyatt rubbed his eyes. “When I got back to the real world, I had trouble adjusting. I hung out on the streets, wandered around, stayed in some pretty bad places. I tossed my dog tags and driver’s license in a dumpster at one point. The dead guy was probably one of the homeless men I hung out with and he fished them out of the dumpster and died with them on.”
“The local ME didn’t get prints from the body before the Navy took it away to verify it wasn’t Wyatt,” Shelby said to Colton. “The NCIS report has mysteriously disappeared. Not even Beatrice can locate it.”
“The Navy didn’t want me working for the CIA, but because of my skills and the fact my grandparents are from Baghdad, it was easy for me to talk and act like a native. All I was supposed to do was ask a few questions and see if I could determine whether McKenzie was still alive or not. Next thing I knew, I had an in with 12 September. I took it. Unfortunately, I got in so deep, I had to sever ties with my handler. The CIA assumed I’d flipped and the Navy didn’t want anything to do with me. Even after I got back and cleared my name with the Agency, the Navy was done with me. They wanted to pretend I never existed so letting a dead homeless guy take my identity was a way for me to disappear.”
Zeb leaned on the windowsill. “Why ingratiate yourself with Shelby’s family?”
“After Bard was shot and then I saw a blip about my own death, I knew something was up. I thought it might be a member of 12 September, taking us out one at a time. I wanted to reach out to someone, but technically, I no longer existed and it’s not easy to come clean after all the things I’ve done. Figured I’d keep an eye on Agent Claiborne since she led the FBI side of the mission and was still in Oklahoma where our killer seemed to be as well. Taking on Daniel’s persona was easy.”
“So you posed as a junior pastor for my dad?” Shelby couldn’t quite wrap her mind around that choice. “Seems like there are easier jobs.”
“I actually enjoyed working with your dad and helping people. Felt like setting a few things right after all the trouble I’ve caused.”
Zeb crossed his feet at the ankles. “Not even CIA trained operatives could accomplish what you did, getting in tight with 12 September, and you were undercover a long time. That’s why the Counterterrorism group thought you’d turned.”
He grimaced, a haunted expression crossed his face. No telling what atrocities he’d seen. Maybe even helped commit. “There were times when I was so deep in that shit, I wasn’t sure myself. But I had to stay until I could get McKenzie and the others out. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get word to the Agency before the others were killed. That weighs heavy on me.”
The sadness on his face was honest, raw. The truth cut deep lines in his face.
Shelby patted his hand. “Most people will never know the sacrifice you made for your country. I, for one, want to thank you for helping us save Connor and stop Quan.”
Wyatt ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t think I’d ever make it out of that compound alive, so I owe you thanks as well.”
“What did the Agency do with you once you came home?” Colton asked.
“They kept me at a black site for months, debriefing me.” His fingers formed air quotes. “It wasn’t technically torture, but it felt like it. When they finally let me go, I wandered around for a long time. I couldn’t assimilate back into real life. I went home to Lori but things were…weird. Too many ghosts, you know?”
Colton nodded. These men—all of them, whether SEALs or spies—lived separate lives. No matter how much they loved their wives and families, coming back to normal, everyday life in the USA was foreign to them.
Wyatt looked a little gray around the edges. It was time to get her official statement and leave the man to recoup. “I meant what I said about going home to your wife. If you decide to let Lori know you’re alive, I’ll go with you and do what I can to smooth things over with her. I know coming clean scares the hell out of you, but she deserves to know you’re alive. Maybe you two can work things out.”
“If you want the Agency to go on believing you died in that fire,” Zeb added, “I’ll make sure my report says that.”
Wyatt nodded at Zeb, then his sharp eyes appraised her. “Why would you do all of this for me after I lied to you?”
Shelby smiled. “I’m a sucker for happy endings, and besides, you did so in order to protect me.” She squeezed Colton’s shoulder. “I’m used to that.”
Setting her recorder on the table, she took a seat. “Come Monday, I may be out of a job, but for now, I’d like to take your statement about what happened at my house with Agent Ingram. He betrayed so many of us. I’m going to make sure he goes away for life.”
Wyatt nodded and pointed at the recorder. “Happy to oblige, ma’am. Turn that thing on.”
Chapter Twenty-one
_____________________
______________________________________________________
Washington, D.C.
One month later
“BOYS!” SHELBY’S VOICE rang through the apartment. “You’re going to be late!”
The smell of chocolate chip pancakes filtered past Colton’s nose as he and Marcelo hustled to the kitchen.
“You gonna nail that geometry test today?” Colton asked him.
“Shucks, yeah,” the kid responded with a fake accent.
He ruffled the kid’s too-long hair. “I’m going to make a cowboy out of you, yet, Lo. A smart one who can do geometry at that.”
Paulina was in a nursing home, trying to get stronger so she could take care of Marcelo again, but Colton knew it was wishful thinking. Beatrice had pulled strings and Colton and Shelby were fostering Marcelo for now.
Which included fostering Salisbury too.
The dog sat near Shelby’s feet in the kitchen, licking his chops and giving her puppy dog eyes in hopes of landing a pancake.
She was in standard FBI attire: black pantsuit, white shirt, and black heels that gave her short frame a boost. The braid was gone, Jaya having cut it, and Shelby’s short hair lay in soft curls around her face.
At least she wasn’t sporting purple stripes.
“Big day,” Colton said, sliding up behind her and planting a kiss on her bare neck.
She swatted him good-naturedly with the spatula. “I can’t wait to testify.”
Marcelo hopped onto one of the beat up stools at the breakfast bar where Shelby had already set a plate of pancakes and the syrup. “I can skip school and come with you, y’know. If you’re nervous.”
The US Attorney General was ready to hang Theo Ingram in the town square as a deterrent to any future law enforcement officials who decided to play vigilante. Shelby had been offered a promotion at FBI Headquarters and had taken it in order to follow Colton back to DC.
Which shocked the hell out of him, but she was serious about mending their relationship. She’d come clean to her bosses about that night in Baghdad, and discovered they already knew. The counterterrorism director had covered for her before he’d skipped out to the NSA.
Because of the sensitivity around Evers’ inside job posing as a terrorist in order to take 12 September down, the people in charge asked her not to contradict Colton’s report or call attention in any way to the mission. Because of Lt. Moore’s severe injuries, they were all under scrutiny as it was. The FBI, CIA, and Navy had all agreed to form an official report that left a few of the details out to keep Evers’ true identity a secret and not compr
omise other undercover operations with 12 September.
For bringing in Ingram, the Director had offered Shelby the head of the taskforce unit she’d hoped to run before things had gone south for all of them. She was already up to her eyeballs in work, but seemed happier than ever.
“No skipping school,” Shelby said, loading up a plate for Colton and handing it to him. “Besides, I’m not nervous. I’m looking forward to nailing this scumbag to the wall.”
She’d not only dug Ingram’s grave for him, she’d managed to reunite Wyatt Evers with his wife. Wyatt, not wanting the CIA to pull him back into the land of spooks had decided to stay off the radar, but Shelby had set up a private meeting for Lori Evers and Daniel Mitchum at her father’s church. Last Colton heard, Lori and Daniel had run off to Vegas for a weekend.
Colton pinched Shelby’s backside. “That’s my beauty queen.”
She made a face at him and said sotto voce, “Not in front of the kid.”
He grinned and broke off a piece of a pancake to lob at Salisbury. The dog caught it in midair, inhaled it in one gulp, and wagged his tail, ready for more.
Shelby’s limp was all but gone thanks to continuing physical therapy. Most of her memory had also returned, except for the day of the shooting. The doctors believed that might not ever come back, but Shelby was okay with that. Every night in bed, she and Colton played a ‘remember-when’ game, calling up childhood experiences they’d shared. It seemed to make her happy, so Colton relived the past—even the stuff that made him uncomfortable—just to hear her laugh.
He’d made amends with Jack and Martha too. He’d found it easier staying on their good side when he was eighteen hours away from them.
“I’ll be with her for moral support,” Colton told Marcelo as he poured syrup on his pancakes. He bit into a forkful and his eyes fluttered up into his skull. God, he’d missed her cooking along with everything else.
Shelby sat a cup of steaming coffee on the bar in front of him and grabbed her own for a sip. “As long as we’re at the courthouse, what do you think about…you know.”
Her gaze dipped to the gold band he still wore on his left ring finger. She’d dug out her engagement ring and matching band before they’d left Oklahoma and wore them on her left ring finger as well.
They were married, but not. At least according to the law. The connection in their hearts was as strong as ever.
He could not have cared less, since he’d known he’d never be married to anyone else, regardless of what some paper said. “You asking me to make an honest woman of you?”
She grinned over her cup. “I’m not sure that’s possible, but yes, I’d like to set things straight.”
Marcelo’s wide eyes went back and forth between them as he shoveled mouthfuls of his breakfast in.
“No Mama and Daddy Claiborne in attendance?”
“Nope. Just Connor, Sabrina, Jaya, and Jon.”
“No.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “The Wicked Witch of the West got to attend the first wedding and look how that turned out.”
“We need witnesses, Sabrina needs a break from physical therapy, and of course, I’m inviting my best friend. I already checked with Beatrice and she okayed vacation hours for this afternoon for you, Connor, and Jon.”
Connor was back at work, Sabrina still in recovery but doing well. She was living at her dad’s swanky million-dollar townhouse a block from SFI headquarters, which made it easy for Connor to run back and forth to keep an eye on her.
Jaya was in town playing nursemaid to Jon and dropping in at Colton’s apartment at the worst possible times.
Which amounted to always.
Not that Jon needed nursing—he was as tough as Colton and had been back to work for a couple of weeks. Light duty, poor guy. Colton snickered at the memory of Jon answering phones with Sloane strapped to his chest in some kind of carrier.
But Jaya liked the excuse to stalk him, and Jon, warped son of a bitch that he was, liked being stalked by a loudmouthed, purple-haired ballbuster of a woman.
“If you two are getting hitched,” Marcelo said, “I get to skip school.”
“I made the appointment with the judge for three o’clock,” Shelby said to the kid. “Jaya will pick you up after your last class and bring you to the courthouse.”
The kid’s eyes lit up. “Cool! Do I need a tux?”
“Tux?” Shelby laughed. “Your jeans will be fine.”
She grinned at Colton. “So what do you say, Bells? You brave enough to marry me a second time?”
He toyed with his pancakes for a moment, a burning wetness behind his eyes.
This woman. She’d been the only one to ever believe in him growing up, and even after all the times he’d let her down, she still wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.
“Colton?” The smile slid off her face. “Are you all right?”
He stood, kicking the stool back. Two strides and he was on her side of the breakfast bar. Taking the cup from her hands, he pulled her close and looked into her eyes.
“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, Shelby Claiborne, but I can tell you one thing—you make me the bravest man on this planet every time you look at me. You’re the best thing in my life and I’ll never be whole without you.”
She studied his face. “Is that a yes?”
He laughed and then kissed her deeply, bending her over the bar. Marcelo had to grab his plate and move it. Salisbury, always up for a game, jumped and barked at them.
When they came up for air, Colton smirked at her half-lidded eyes and the mewing sound she made when he broke away. “Now, what do you think, sweetheart?”
Her answer was to grab him by the back of the head and pull him in for another soul-drenching kiss.
“Um, guys?” Marcelo’s voice was laced with embarrassment in the background. “I do need a ride if you’re not letting me skip school.”
Ending the kiss, Colton let Shelby up and helped her straighten her jacket and shirt. Her cheeks were flushed and the silly grin on her face told him all he needed to know.
She was his for time everlasting.
He couldn’t ask for more.
Piling their hodgepodge little family into his new truck a few minutes later—including Salisbury who regularly went to the SFI office with him and was totally crushing on Maggie while attending therapy dog school with her—he felt Shelby’s hand sneak into his as he smiled into the morning sun.
He was going to get them a real house with a big backyard for Marcelo and Salisbury. Maybe even a house with an extra bedroom for a baby Bells or two.
He was finally ready to put the past behind him.
The future was an unknown as he drove away from the curb, but hope bloomed in his chest. What he did know for certain was that he was ready for a second chance at love and life with his beauty queen.
Romantic Suspense and Mysteries
by Misty Evans
The Super Agent Series
Operation Sheba
Operation Paris
Operation Proof of Life
The Blood Code
The Perfect Hostage, A Super Agent Novella
The SCVC Taskforce Series
Deadly Pursuit
Deadly Deception
Deadly Force
Deadly Intent
Deadly Affair, A SCVC Taskforce novella
Deadly Attraction
Deadly Secrets (coming 2017)
The Justice Team Series (with Adrienne Giordano)
Stealing Justice
Cheating Justice
Holiday Justice
Exposing Justice
Undercover Justice
Protecting Justice
Missing Justice
Shadow Force International Series
Fatal Truth
Fatal Honor
Fatal Courage
Fatal Love
Fatal Vision
The Secret Ingredient Culinary Mystery Series
The Sec
ret Ingredient, A Culinary Romantic Mystery with Bonus Recipes
The Secret Life of Cranberry Sauce, A Secret Ingredient Holiday Novella
About the Author
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over forty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. She got her start writing in 4th grade when she won second place in a school writing contest with an essay about her dad. Since then, she’s written nonfiction magazine articles, started her own coaching business, become a yoga teacher, and raised twin boys on top of enjoying her fiction career.
When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies. A registered yoga teacher, she shares her love of chakra yoga and energy healing, but still hasn’t mastered levitating.
Get your free Super Agent story and sign up for her newsletter at www.readmistyevans.com. Like her author page on Facebook or follow her on Twitter. Bloggers and reviewers, if you’d like to join Misty’s Rockin’ Readers review group, send her a message at [email protected] and she’ll hook you up!
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