Lost in Shadows (Lost)

by Anita DeVito

  Could have fallen to your death. That’s all Jeb heard. His heart rate spiked, and his mouth went dry. What was he thinking letting her and Finch talk them into bringing her? He should have locked her in his part of the house while he worked.

  “You see how he exaggerates,” she said to Finch. “If I had fallen, the suicide fence would have caught me. Really. How did you jump out of airplanes if you’re afraid of heights?”

  Beck bared his teeth. “I am not afraid of heights.”

  “The lady is teasing you. Ease down,” Finch said. “Carolina, poke a tiger only if you’re willing to lose a few fingers.”

  Carolina smiled at Jeb, warmly and with humor. She walked her fingers up his thigh, but the smile quickly faded when he slapped her hand against his leg.

  “You and I are going to have a serious conversation about safety.”

  She rolled her eyes at the reprimand. “I wasn’t in any danger.”

  The polite speeches with their calculated laugh lines and thinly veiled criticism of some nameless, faceless provocateur had ended, and the required post-meal socializing had begun when Finch met Kennedy in the darkened barroom. Voices were but a murmur in the room where the low lights and heavy wood ensured every conversation remained private. Jeb lingered on the fringe, hearing and seeing all.

  Finch swirled his snifter of scotch, letting his palm enliven the aged spirits.

  “How is business?” Kennedy began.

  “Good,” Finch answered, “despite the economy. Or perhaps because of it. Nothing is better for a personal security business than a healthy dose of paranoia.” He sipped while Kennedy chuckled. “Business is good now, and I want to make sure it stays that way.”

  “Governor Edgerton feels the same. He understands that a healthy economy is built on the success of businesses like yours. Your support would go a long way to ensuring policies keep business robust.”

  Finch smiled, slow and vicious. “Are you sure he’s a Democrat?”

  Kennedy nodded. “He was a businessman before he was a politician, and he hasn’t forgotten those roots. He is a moderate who supports a liberal social agenda and a free market economy.”

  “I can appreciate those ideals.” Finch slid a check across the table.

  Kennedy lifted the check like a poker professional reading his cards. “I can assure you, Governor Edgerton will work hard for those ideals. Perhaps, when he has the White House, there will be opportunities to work together.”

  “Federal contracts would fit well into our niche.” Finch swallowed the amber liquid and shook his head. “We are establishing a training camp for our men, building up our staff.”

  “Florida has excellent opportunities to support your needs. We have large tracts of land prime for development. I can make connections for you.”

  “I appreciate that, but I need help with another little problem.”

  Kennedy raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

  “Did you happen to notice the blonde?”

  He chuckled. “A blind man would have noticed that woman.”

  “If Carolina Walker is nothing else, she is…eye-catching. And she is something else.” Finch raised his glass and spoke against the rim. “To someone.”

  “Carolina Walker.” Kennedy repeated the name as if trying to place it. “Carolina Walker.”

  Jeb watched Kennedy for telltale signs of recognition of the name. There was a spark but whether for Carolina or the potential of a big donation, he couldn’t tell. Kennedy was a man in control.

  “She is a former reporter turned researcher and the obsession of my business partner, Jebediah McCormick. She recently worked for a Tallahassee reporter, Kevin Miller.”

  “Ah. Mr. Miller.” Kennedy took a long, deep drink from his snifter. “What is he to you?”

  Finch took a healthy drink and shook his head. “Nothing. Miller is nothing to me. But Carolina is something to Jebediah, and he is necessary to me. As you may expect, the success of my business is the result of a symbiotic relationship between my business talents and Jebediah’s specific set of skills. Are you married, Lincoln?”

  Kennedy snorted derisively.

  “I’ve escaped that particular form of torture myself, but I’ve noticed from watching those around me fall, that the more beautiful the woman, the stupider the man becomes. Jebediah McCormick currently has the IQ of a pocket poodle.”

  Jeb kept his gaze straight ahead, not responding to the characterization.

  Kennedy snorted again. “What does this have to do with Governor Edgerton?”

  “Edgerton? Not a thing.” Finch leaned back in the leather-backed chair. “But I understand that there is a relationship—a devil’s triangle of sorts—between Jebediah, Carolina, and you. The Jebediah-Carolina link needs to remain intact. Your role? Your role is optional.”

  “Is that a threat?” Kennedy said ominously.

  Finch shook his head. “If having you removed from the triangle were in my best interest, Mr. Kennedy, we wouldn’t be here enjoying this fine scotch. I would simply have helped my short-tempered, trigger-happy, ex-sniper of a partner to see that you are the linchpin between his woman and happily ever after.” Finch shrugged carelessly. “As it is, I see opportunities. Opportunities that can mutually benefit us.”

  Kennedy tapped the check against the table. “Carolina Walker. Women are nothing but trouble.”

  Finch nodded and raised an eyebrow. “Her trouble is two men. James Hooker and Thomas Cooper recently broke into her house, set fire to it, and stole her computer. I understand you know these…gentlemen.”

  “Hooker and Cooper. Consultants. I have used them from time to time.” Kennedy looked at the check again. “I’ll look into the matter, Mr. Finch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I better get back to the governor.”

  Back in the ballroom, Finch smiled and greeted acquaintances as he made his way to Beck, who leaned against the bar, whiskey in his hand, a scowl etched on his face. Jeb followed Beck’s gaze to find Carolina standing with Millstone in a small group. She cocked her head and laughed softly with the group. The man next to her, who could have been her grandfather, had his hand resting on her forearm as she held a glass of wine. He knew Beck wouldn’t let her out of his sight but he felt better being close himself. He accepted a fresh drink from the bartender and handed another to Finch. “How the hell do you know so many people?”

  “That’s my job, Jebediah. That has been my job for a long time.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Jeb snapped. “If he touches her one more time, I’m going to knock that gold tooth down his throat.”

  Finch followed Jeb’s gaze to a small group that featured Millstone and Carolina. “She’s playing her role. She embodies the beautiful but harmless eye candy that every high-powered man enjoys indulging. She is doing exactly what she needs to do. Now, about Lincoln Kennedy.” Finch summarized the conversation for Beck over a frugally poured glass of scotch.

  Jeb swore under his breath. “Did you have to make me sound like a love-sick idiot?”

  Finch drained the glass, set it back on the bar. “Every story has to have some bit of truth or it won’t be believed.”

  The hand on Carolina’s arm had slid to her back. Her lower back. Carolina tried to step away from it, but Millstone unknowingly blocked her escape. “God damn it. That’s it.”

  Finch caught Jeb by his collar and yanked him back to the bar. “Mr. Beck? Please fetch Carolina before Jeb foams at the mouth.”

  Beck stealthily crossed the floor and took Carolina by the elbow. She flinched at the touch and then visibly relaxed when she realized it was Beck. Relief was quickly put away as she turned to make her farewells. Jeb stalked across the room with Finch scolding him from a step behind. He caught up with her and wrapped his hand around her upper arm, locking her to him.

  “Jeb,” she said, looking up into the mask of anger he wore. “Not so tight.” She pulled her arm away and took a step back.

  He let her have the distance, because he knew he was nearl
y out of control, and if there was ever anything he couldn’t afford, it was to be out of control. He ran his hands through his hair and left her to go to the coat check. He traded the crumpled ticket for his coat and her thin wrap.

  “Carolina!” A younger man, this one old enough to be her father, hurried into the hallway. “My card. If you are ever in Virginia, give me—”

  Jeb snapped the card away, twisting the man’s fingers to the point of pain. “She doesn’t need your card and she won’t be in Virginia. Ever.” He stepped closer to the man and glared down.

  “Jebediah!” Carolina gasped. “I apologize, Governor Whitney. My bodyguard can be a bit overzealous. If it wouldn’t be inconvenient, I would love to see the collection of letters in the Mansion Library.” She pried the card from Jeb’s hand. “I’ll email you.”

  “Wonderful. Safe travels, Carolina.” The governor took a second to reprimand Jeb with a seething glare.

  Finch took Carolina’s arm and led her toward the door, shooting Jeb a look that sent a warning as real as if he’d pulled a weapon.

  She pulled her wrap tight against the chill in the night air. “Do you think it worked, Landon? Do you think Mr. Kennedy will call off those men?”

  The valet brought Jeb’s SUV to a stop directly in front of Carolina. Finch opened the back door and held it while she slid in. “Nothing is for certain, Carolina, but we have his attention. Try not to worry. You have a lot of people on your side.” He patted her knee. “You did an outstanding job tonight.”

  Jeb and Beck stood toe-to-toe. “I’m driving,” Jeb stated.

  “Not tonight,” Beck answered. “I’m your bodyguard. I drive.”

  “It’s my truck,” Jeb growled.

  Finch rolled his eyes and snatched the keys from the nervous valet. “Beck, take the keys.” Beck got into the truck leaving Finch to face a growling Jeb. “Jeb, this woman has you twisted in a knot. Think with the head on top of your shoulders.”

  Jeb curled his upper lip. “Fuck you.”

  “Eloquent as ever, Jebediah. I expect Kennedy has already decided whether he is going to walk away from Carolina or not. We will know in the next day or two, so you better be ready. If he didn’t buy that she has many powerful friends, if the money isn’t enough, then he’s going to come at her again, and he’s going to come hard. She’s going to need you to survive. She’s going to need you to be a warrior, not a jealous boyfriend.”

  Jeb absorbed the message into his tense body. “Fuck me.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are you leaving?”

  Finch smiled, slick and conniving. “Not yet. There are still friends to meet, deals to make.”

  Jeb took a deep breath and let the night soak into his muscles. He took another breath and huffed it out. “Thanks for coming, Finch. I appreciate it.”

  Finch held out his hand. “What are partners for? Take care, Jeb.”

  “Always do.” Jeb climbed into the passenger seat and settled in for the long drive back to Nashville. He had made the decision not to fly, valuing stealthy independence of movement over a swift, but documented, flight. The drive was less than four hours and they made it in one of Chameleon’s armored kick-ass machines.

  He and Beck sat rigidly facing forward, their eyes continuously on the lookout for enemies.

  “Jeb? Jeb?” Carolina called to him in a whisper. “Jeb? Is someone there?” Silence. She leaned forward and touched the shoulder in front of her. “Beck?”

  Jeb caught the movement in his peripheral vision and twisted around to grab her arm. “Sit back, Carolina.”

  She shivered under the steely gaze. “Jeb? What’s wrong?”

  She was too young, too good, to be in the middle of a mess like this. She looked like something out of a fairy tale, a veritable princess, huddled in the corner with only the thin material of her wrap as a shield against the night. Everything in him demanded he protect her. He tugged on her seat belt, ensuring himself she was secure. “Nothing is wrong.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carolina stared out the window at the landscape bathed in silver, where killers could lurk around every corner. Yet what scared her the most was the bald-faced lie that Jeb told. Nothing was wrong. Ha! Everything in his body language, everything in his demeanor, said nothing was right.

  She closed her eyes in defense of the city lights that flashed past. With a gasp, she flailed her arms as the car jerked to the right. They sliced into the caravan of semis with a margin no wider than a wine bottle between the bumpers. The truck behind them slammed on the brakes and the horn. The blaring noise ripped a scream from her throat. The car jerked to the right again, the sharp edges of the seat belt driving into her body to stop her from being hurled across the seat.

  Racing up the ramp to I-24, she watched a long sedan box in a smaller car, using the semi to trap it in place. Beck raised a hand in thanks. The truck they cut off slowed, opening the gap, and the smaller car gunned through the widened opening. It came straight across toward the exit ramp but ran out of lane. The car slammed on the brakes and fought for control as it threaded the needle between the bridge piers and the line of trucks.

  She listened as they raced in a new direction, her ears searching for that horrific telltale sound of metal on metal. It never came and she prayed that it meant death had been kept at bay this night. In the dark and silence, she shivered.

  Jeb swore softly as he shrugged out of his suit coat and shoved it into her lap. “Get some rest.”

  She couldn’t. The night pressed in. The only sounds were the rumble of the motor, the hum of the road. With no distractions, the barrage of images assaulted her mind. Her tumbled home. Her charred kitchen. Her bruised face. The back seat of the luxury vehicle felt as confining as that hole beneath her father’s library. Shivering from a cold that had nothing to do with temperature, she wanted to go home. To her bed. A bed she couldn’t use because of some bastard politician.

  Today had become tomorrow by the time Beck pulled into the oversized garage. She flinched against the harsh overhead light and then slid off the leather seat into the night air. The evening filled with strangers and the cold ride back to the McCormick house illuminated her life with the harsh light of reality. She was alone. The fledgling feelings Jeb claimed withered outside the calm of Elderberry Farm. Her heart ached, weeping for what she’d lost and what she’d never had. In that moment, she hated Cooper and Hooker, Kennedy and Edgerton. She hated Miller for dragging her into this, and she hated Jeb for pushing her away.

  Needing space, she walked out the garage door toward the worn path that circled the property.

  “Where are you going, Carolina?” Jeb called from behind, his voice echoing in the garage.

  “For a walk,” she said tersely.

  “It’s after midnight.”

  “I can read a clock.”

  He caught up to her. “What’s wrong?”

  She lengthened her strides as much as her heels allowed, wanting to create distance between them. “You’re an ass and a liar.”

  He stopped for a moment and then caught up again. “I’m not an ass and I didn’t lie.”

  “You’re wrong, too,” she said without breaking stride. “You’re an ass, a liar, and you’re wrong.”

  “Stop. Carolina, stop.” He grabbed her arm, jerking her to a halt.

  “Go to bed, Jeb. Climb into your big bed and go to sleep. I’m going for a walk.”

  He shook his head. “Not by yourself. You don’t go anywhere by yourself.”

  She jerked her arm out of his grasp. “I’m not stupid, and I don’t need a babysitter. I’m not going to leave the property.”

  He ignored the venom and laid a hand on her lower back. “You want to walk, we’ll walk.”

  “Not with you.”

  He shook his head again. “You aren’t walking around the farm in the middle of the night by yourself. It just isn’t going to happen. Walk with me or go in. Decide.”

  She wrapped his coat tightly around
her, kicked him in a shin, and turned to the path that would take her away from him.

  “What was that for?” His voice was pitched too high.

  “Ass. Liar.” She walked steadily away from him, her chin pointed stubbornly in the air.

  “When was I an ass?”

  “All evening.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “No, I wasn’t. And if I was, it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Whose fault was it?”

  “Yours,” her said. She stopped so fast he ran into her. He grabbed her shoulders to keep her from falling.

  She spun to face him. “Mine?” She looked into those hard-set eyes and knew he was serious. She kicked him in the other shin before storming away. “Ass.”

  “Fine. I’ll accept that I’m an ass, because you let those dirty old men paw you all night.”

  She sped up. “I did not let anyone paw me. I did what you wanted me to do—”

  “Not me. No. That was Finch’s idea for you to do the meet-and-greet with the governors.”

  “I hated every minute of it. Every minute. Did you for one instant think about how I felt? I like books, not parties. I can never think of anything interesting to say. And there was Millstone, parading me around to all those people who mattered. If I messed up, I wasn’t only causing me problems, but I was hurting Millstone. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t. I had to stand there and smile and laugh and, yes, let absolute strangers touch me.”

  He lengthened his stride and kept pace. “You looked like you were enjoying it. I never thought you were going through hell—”

  “Because you’re an ass.” The accusation that she enjoyed the evening stung. She’d been intimate with him, in more ways than one. He should have known she hated it. He should have known and made it better, made it easier, but he didn’t.

  “Okay. I’m an ass. I’m a big-eared jackass. But I’m not a liar.”

  She cut him a look and snorted. “You are.”

  “When? When have I ever lied to you?”

  “In the car. I asked you what was wrong and you said ‘nothing’.”

  He scoffed. “That is not a lie. That’s just a thing guys say—”