“Don’t worry,” Cy said as he placed his hand on her knee and gave it a slight squeeze. “You’ll remember. I don’t know if I’ll be able to help, but I’ll do whatever it is you need me to do.”
Gemma looked up from the notebook and over where Fred had curled up in the crook of Cy’s arm and fallen asleep. She felt the pressure of needing to remember the secret language pressing down on her. She needed to think about something else. That’s when she remembered the phone call from Cy’s brother. “Wait. Didn’t your brother say you were in danger at home?”
“I was. That’s what I’m trying to figure out—how my cover was blown.” Now it was Cy’s turn to look distant as Gemma could see him thinking.
“Well, it’s not as if you’re hiding who you are.” Gemma watched as he slowly turned to look at her. “Well, you’re not. You gave me your name right away. It would be easy for someone to make a couple of calls to find out where you were born.”
“I didn’t use my real name.”
“Cy isn’t your name?” Gemma asked. Who was he then?
“Cy is my name. But my last name isn’t Davidson. It’s Davies. That simple little switch was easy to remember and enough to hide my identity. The CIA provided me with such a deep background and documents that it would be impossible to trace me back to my real identity. Instead of being from Keeneston, I was from Louisville. There were even yearbooks at the high school with my real high school pictures in them.”
“And you have no idea who the people are who were asking about you at home?”
“Oh, I have a very good idea. They’re the same guys who are after you.”
“Me? Why would they want both you and me? That doesn’t make sense. Wait. Were you in the alley for a reason tonight?” Gemma buried her head in her hands. “Oh God, you are an axe murderer.”
“I’m not an axe murderer. The guys who are after you are the same ones after me. See, one of my brothers is the sheriff of Keeneston. He busted a dog-fighting ring recently. When I looked into it, I connected it to a group known for trafficking kidnapped women. When I dug around further, I connected it to a group that sells weapons and everything else on the black market. They’re real bad people. I've caught a couple, including a group trying to sell chemical weapons out of Russia just a while ago.
“The only connection I've found is that these men all have a Roman numeral X tattooed on their wrist. The boss man, Mr. X for lack of a better name, has never been caught on camera at any of these fights, trades, or deals. No one knows a name, a description, nothing. But Mr. X is powerful enough to have many connections in governments and law enforcement all over the world.” Cy leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees as Fred crawled over the seat and back onto her lap.
“It sounds as if he has enough power to find out who you are. Could've been someone at the CIA even.” Now this was something Gemma could think about. Her investigative reporter side jumped to attention and she wanted to know more.
“Yes. They could have. I think it was Russia, though. With the threat of a weapons sale, I dug around a little more than normal and really pushed some contacts. I must've thrown up a red flag somewhere. I was so worried that the bust wouldn’t go down, I beat the other CIA team members to it. They could have followed me afterward and have seen who I was.” Cy rubbed his hands over his face as Gemma’s thoughts raced forward.
“Then why are we going to the one place they've been looking for you?” Gemma drummed her fingers on her sister’s notebook as she thought about the situation.
“They’re not there now. Ahmed will have taken care of that. Also, as you’ve pointed out, my cover is blown and it could've been by one of my own. Keeneston is the only place I can think of where I can trust every single person.”
“Who is this Ahmed? And how can you possibly trust the whole town? That’s just naïve.”
“I might not have mentioned all there was about Ahmed in the car. Yes, he’s the prince’s head of security. But he’s also one of the most feared and respected soldiers and interrogators you’ll ever find. Shoot, he’s a legend at Langley and he’s only a couple of years older than I am. That should tell you something right there.”
“And you’re trusting this guy?” Gemma knew her eyes were round, but this was just too much.
“Yes. He’s very good friends with my family and I’ve worked with him before. My sister was testifying in a large corruption case and he was guarding the other witnesses. But, he’s not the only one there. My older brothers were all in the military and the town as a whole is the nosiest group of people you’ve ever met.” Gemma didn’t smile along with Cy.
“Then how can you trust a bunch of gossips? I mean, I should know. I do it for a living.”
“They only gossip about what’s going on in town. I’m telling you, the town will be our biggest protector. They have an information network—well, a church phone tree—that is better than any government agency could ever dream of. The added benefit of a town so small is that we’ll know the second someone who isn't a resident comes into town.”
Cy couldn’t help but feel excited to be going home. It had been too long and there was definitely no one he trusted more to help him than his family: three brothers in Special Forces, his sister-in-law, Annie, a former DEA agent, and his brother-in-law, the head the FBI’s Lexington office.
“If you say so. Have you come up with a plan yet?” Gemma teased.
“Yep. Find them before they kill us.” He may have sounded sarcastic, but that was really his plan. Sometimes simple was best.
“You should get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.” Cy heard his voice soften as he fought the urge to pull a blanket over her. She had handled today well, but he knew from experience it was the quiet of the night when the nightmares struck.
“You’re right.” Gemma gave a little smile and pushed her seat back. The large seats allowed her to roll onto her side and look out the window. She heard Cy move and then the overhead lights were turned off.
Gemma closed her eyes, but images of Gia filled her mind. Of them skiing at Big Bear, at the beach, at graduation, and the hours they’d just talk on the phone when they first moved into their own apartments. The emptiness gripped her and she felt her body shudder. Fred curled closer and snuggled his small head into her shoulder. When the despair was so strong she felt as if she’d break, a warm hand touched her back. She leaned back into its heat and strength as she let the tears come.
“It’s okay, Gem.” Gia stood next to her as they looked up at their new high school. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re in good hands.” Gia reached down and held her hand. Gemma didn’t want to admit it, but starting at the new school scared her to death. But she didn’t have to admit it, her sister just knew.
The memory brought a sense of comfort to her as she let Cy rub gentle circles on her back. Gemma’s tears dried up and slowly her eyes closed as Gia talked to her through her dreams.
* * *
Sergei watched the boss pace back and forth in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling windows in his penthouse. He was in one of his moods. His boss ignored everyone in the room while he talked to himself.
“They’ll find you, just like that bitch did,” his boss mumbled as he turned around to pace the long length of the opulent living room once again. “No, they won’t. I haven’t been caught yet.” He turned again on his heel. “Sergei!”
“Right here, sir.” Sergei stepped forward as his boss returned to reality.
“Are they watching us?”
“Who, sir?” Sergei tried not to roll his eyes. It meant a lot more work for him when his boss was in this mood.
“You know who. Sweep the place for bugs and then find that damn woman. I need those flash drives. I know they exist. I know it,” his boss yelled as he slammed his hand on the shiny glass coffee table. “Ready the jet. I’m going back to Virginia.”
“Yes, sir.” Sergei knew he’d also have to sweep the massive mansio
n in McLean, Virginia, right outside Washington, D.C., before his boss even set foot inside. His paranoia was growing worse. Failing to retrieve that damn reporter’s research had pushed his boss over the edge.
His boss disappeared into one of his multiple panic rooms in the apartment. He had at least three in every property he owned. He never rented when he was in a new city; he just bought houses through shell corporations. He kept a few of them but sold the ones he wasn’t going to visit again. His theory was it was hard to find him when no one knew where he was going to be. The deeds would be signed and paid for in cash and then never recorded until after his business had been resolved and he left town.
“What do we do about that gossip reporter—the sister?” one of his underlings questioned as the other started sweeping the room for bugs, again.
“Find out everything you can about her. And for God’s sake, find out who that man was, too. A regular person does not walk around with a gun and have the ability to use it like that.”
Sergei took a silent breath and let it out. Detective Greene had been assigned to the case. When they hacked the LAPD, they found that the man who helped the woman wasn't Detective Greene. “The room’s clean.”
“I know. It was clean an hour ago, too, but sweep the rest of the penthouse anyway.” Sergei turned and walked out of the main part of the residence and into the small secure computer room where one of his men was already working on shifting through years of information on Gemma Perry.
Sergei took a seat at one of the desks and started inputting everything he could remember of the man he had come face-to-face with in that alley. He would find him. It might take more time than his boss wanted, but Sergei never gave up on a mission.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The plane hit the runway, rocking Gemma out of a restless sleep. She lifted her head off the window and saw that not only was Cy awake, he had also changed into a new shirt. He had shaved and it looked as if he’d slept well all night. On the other hand, Gemma was a wrinkled mess with her brunette hair sticking out in some places and stuck to her face in others. Right now she didn’t care if Cy had saved her, she hated him.
“How do you look so good?” Gemma accused.
“You think I look good?”
Gemma just rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re changed and clean.”
Cy’s phone beeped and Gemma instinctively looked down at the phone in his hands. If she didn’t feel like a hot mess before, then she sure did now after seeing a picture of an actress from the number one movie in the theaters in nothing but panties and a bra with a note asking why he wasn’t at her pajama party. Apparently she only wore sexy, mostly see-through underwear to bed.
Cy gave it a quick glance and then deleted it before pointing to the back of the plane. “There's a bathroom and our luggage is back there, too. Do you want to clean up before we get into town?” Cy stood up as the plane slowly taxied to the hangar at the small private airfield outside of Lexington.
Gemma didn’t bother to answer as she pushed past Cy, shoved Fred into his arms, and hurried to the back to find her luggage. She was so relieved to change and get cleaned up she didn’t even care that she heard Cy chuckle as she slammed the small door to the even smaller bathroom.
Gemma looked into the bathroom and realized what she had thought had been bad hair was a major understatement. Her hair was dirty and there were pieces of unidentified stuff clinging to it. Her face was smeared with dirt, dried sweat, and tear tracks. There were dark circles under her eyes and her normally clear eyes were red, dry, and swollen. Not the image she needed to see after that picture on Cy’s phone.
“Can this get any worse?” Gemma asked her reflection as she reached down to pull off her shirt. Her elbow connected to the door as pain shot down her funny bone. “I guess so,” she mumbled as she battled her shirt.
Finally, she had managed to toss the shirt onto the floor and turn on the water in the small sink. She looked at the reflection of her jeans and baby-blue push-up bra. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. They were going in twenty different directions at once and she needed all the voices in her head to stop for a while—or at least be narrowed down to just a couple.
She let her hands fill with cold water and splashed it onto her face. The simple act of washing her face invigorated her. Feeling adventurous, she bent over and splashed as much water as she could onto her hair and ran her fingers through it. It was definitely not up to Hollywood standards, but she felt as if she were ready to face whatever was next.
Gemma kept the window to the pickup truck rolled down as the warm air dried her wet hair. Fred enjoyed sticking his head out and letting his long white hair blow in the wind. “So, why didn’t your friend Ahmed stay around to pick us up?”
“He’s probably gathering intelligence,” Cy casually replied as he picked up his phone and punched in a number.
Gemma shrugged and looked out at the countryside as they drove along. A beat-up pickup truck was driving through the middle of a large fenced pasture, tossing out clumps of hay to the horses eagerly waiting in a line nearby. The morning sky was bright blue and dotted with puffy white clouds. The lack of smog seemed foreign to her as she took in the smells of grass and hay mixed into the country air.
“I’m almost home, Miles. I need your help,” Cy spoke into the phone. “Okay. I’ll see you in fifteen minutes. It’ll be good to see you, too.”
She saw a slight smile come over his face and noticed it was different from his Hollywood smile. This one seemed real. The others were sexy in a smoldering way, but this one fit him. It softened his dangerous side and, quite frankly, intrigued her.
“Who’s Miles?” Gemma asked as she rolled up the window.
“My oldest brother.”
“How many brothers do you have?”
“I have four brothers and one sister. Miles is the oldest. He owns a company that helps family farms secure big contracts. He recently married a girl named Morgan. She’s a former lobbyist who's now working as a consultant in Lexington. They’re expecting their first child next year. Then there’s Marshall. He used to own a private security firm, but now he’s the sheriff of Keeneston. His wife is Katelyn. She’s a veterinarian and heir to the Jacks Hotel franchise. They’re expecting a baby in the fall.”
“Oh my God . . . he’s married to Katelyn Jacks, the supermodel?” Gemma exclaimed. She had written an article on the dark side of modeling and had wanted to interview Katelyn, but her agent had politely refused, saying that Katelyn was no longer modeling. Apparently she was in vet school.
“Yep. But she’s not a model anymore. The only modeling she does is for my sister who designs hats. Anyway, next is Cade. He’s a high school biology teacher and the head football coach. He’s married to Annie who's a former DEA agent and now a deputy sheriff. They have the cutest daughter, Sophie. I’m next in line. Then Paige, who owns her own girly store and is married to Cole, who’s the head of the FBI office in Lexington. They have the most handsome boy, Ryan. Finally, there’s Pierce who just invented this amazing Cropbot, which is an agricultural robot. It’s so cool. Paige emailed me a demonstration and this thing can do everything. Pierce just got engaged to Tammy who's a receptionist at the law firm in town.”
“That’s one huge family. And you were right; your family sure does have resources. Your brother-in-law and sister-in-law will be a big help.” Gemma felt her spirits buoyed as they turned down yet another small narrow road outlined with black fences and rolling hills. “Your mother must be a saint.”
“She is. My parents are wonderful and, for that matter, so is Keeneston. It’s not for everyone. Some people can’t stand everyone knowing everything. I know I couldn’t when I was younger, but now I can’t wait to get home and see everyone and sit in the café to hear all the local gossip. The Rose sisters are something to behold.” Cy gave his sweet little smile and Gemma bet he didn’t even know he was doing it. She couldn’t help but feel excited to meet all these people.
Gemma heard the wistfulness in his voice and the way his normally deep and graveled voice softened as he talked about his family. But hearing him talk about his niece and nephew took her by surprise. “You like babies? You’re like Mr. CIA kickass agent guy with hot actresses trying to get into your apartment.”
“Yeah. That doesn’t mean I don’t like kids. I love them. I want a whole bunch of them, too.”
“Who are you?” Gemma asked again. He was a total contradiction—Hollywood hottie with a dangerous edge, but also a protector and family man. She just couldn’t help wondering who the real Cy Davies was.
“We’re here.”
Gemma turned away from trying to figure him out to look at the large white farmhouse they were approaching. She didn’t quite know what to think of the range of cars lined up in the front yard. Pickup trucks, SUVs, a bright red M6, and a shiny black Mercedes S600. If a TV crew jumped out and told her they were filming her for a surprise show, Gemma wouldn’t even blink. The whole scene was just too strange.
The door opened and people poured out of the farmhouse. She could identify his mother and father because of the gray streaking their hair, and she spotted Katelyn Jacks standing tall in the back, but the rest were a clump of people hurrying down the wide wood steps toward them.
Cy parked the truck and hurried to open Gemma’s door for her. Before she could ask who everyone was, a beautiful woman with shoulder-length brown hair and a miniskirt flung herself into his arms. Jeez, could women not help throwing themselves at him? Okay, who was she kidding? Under different circumstances she would, too, although she doubted she’d be able to get through the line of starlets waiting at his apartment to even get the chance.
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