Secret Agenda

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Secret Agenda Page 10

by Paula Graves


  They returned a few minutes later, separated Megan and Evan again, and the interviews repeated. Yes, Evan told the detective, he and Megan had gone inside the residence. They smelled decay and wanted to know if their friend was hurt or worse. Yes, they’d gone in other rooms, looking for other possible victims. No, they didn’t know who would have done such a thing. Yes, they had alibis for the last forty-eight to seventy-two hours.

  It didn’t take long for the detectives to ascertain—with a series of calls to Alabama—that Megan and Evan could account for their whereabouts for the previous two days, putting them over a hundred miles away when Donald Gates had been murdered.

  “I’m going to type up your statement later. Can you come by and sign them?” the younger detective asked.

  “We were heading back to Alabama tonight,” Evan said. “Can you send the statements to law enforcement in Alabama so we can sign them there?”

  The detective looked reluctant but agreed, though he insisted on getting phone numbers where he could reach them if he had any more questions.

  By seven that evening, they were on the road again. From the looks of Megan’s pinched, wan face, she felt as wrung-out as he did. The thought of sinking into the big, soft bed at his Gossamer Mountain cabin was the only thing keeping him going.

  “How’d the intruders know about the package?” Megan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Evan admitted. “They killed Donald long before we even knew the package existed.”

  Her voice darkened. “He was shot straight through the heart, wasn’t he?”

  Evan nodded. Just like Vince Randall. Probably a handgun instead of the rifle that killed Vince, almost certainly fitted with a sound suppressor. An SSU special, it seemed.

  “It’s the SSU, don’t you think?” Megan asked aloud, echoing his silent thoughts.

  “Yes.”

  “They shot him in the leg first—to get him to talk.” He could tell she was trying to remain focused and unemotional, but strain tinted her voice. “Did they shoot him for this?”

  He looked at her and saw she was holding the blue fox in clenched hands.

  “There’s no way to know that,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a lie to placate her; he really didn’t know why they’d gone after Donald Gates. “It could be entirely unrelated. We don’t know what kind of life he’d been living since he left the army.”

  “What about Merriwether?”

  “Your brother’s looking into that. Until we discover evidence to the contrary, maybe we should assume it was an accident, just as it was ruled.”

  She turned her weary eyes toward him. “I want to go home. I want to get my dog, give him Vince’s gift and forget any of this happened. Can we do that?”

  “Of course,” he answered, heading the car onto the I-65 South onramp. Next to him, Megan closed her eyes and curled her fingers around the blue fox, looking tired and defeated.

  He couldn’t blame her. He felt pretty beaten himself.

  * * *

  THEY MADE IT BACK to Gossamer Ridge by ten-thirty that evening. To Megan’s surprise, Evan insisted on following her to Isabel’s to pick up Patton, then stayed with her all the way back to her house. He parked behind her Jeep and walked with her and the excited mutt up to the porch.

  He bent close, as if he were about to kiss her. Her heart skipped a beat and heat flooded her cheeks.

  “The bugs are still going, right?” he whispered.

  Her heart stuttered again. She’d forgotten about the listening devices. “I think so,” she whispered back.

  “Maybe we should let them know we found nothing.” As he pulled back, his stubbled jaw brushed against hers. She’d always loved the pleasure-pain of Vince’s beard rasping against her skin, a reminder of his masculinity, of the unmistakable, wonderful differences between men and women. Desire flooded her, fierce and unexpected.

  But not unwelcome, she realized. Not unwanted.

  She felt a little breathless as she pulled out her keys and unlocked the front door. Inside, the place looked undisturbed. Patton strained against his leash and she reached down to unhook his collar, letting him go.

  She locked gazes with Evan, nearly melting under the smoldering heat of his regard.

  “You glad to be home, boy?” His gaze never faltered.

  “I know I am,” she said, her voice raspy. “That trip was a big bust. Can’t believe we wasted all that time.”

  “I’m sorry. I feel I led you on a wild-goose chase.”

  “Yeah, well. We know something’s up, with all those people chasing after us.”

  “I was so sure we’d find that package.”

  His words reminded her of the blue fox plush toy in her bag. She unzipped the side pocket and pulled out the toy. Patton wagged his tail wildly and grinned at her in giddy anticipation. She gave the toy to the dog and he ran around the room in delight.

  Her heart hurt a little that Vince never got to see him enjoy the fox. Not that the toy would have lasted that long anyway—Patton was already chewing off the plastic eyes and digging out the stuffing.

  “Why did they kill Donald Gates if there wasn’t a package?” she asked aloud, looking up at Evan. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”

  “I’m beginning to think none of my theories make sense anymore.” Evan made a face that made her smile. “I guess I need to go back to square one.”

  “Where is square one? The Pentagon?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just stop beating my head against a wall and go back home to North Carolina.”

  She realized this wasn’t part of his playacting. He really thought it was time for him to go home. Her stomach knotted. “When?”

  “Maybe as soon as tomorrow.”

  A storm of emotions rocked her, made her want to move, to run, to do something to release the restless energy clawing at her chest. She didn’t know if she felt heartbroken or relieved, excited or terrified.

  The only emotion she could identify with any certainty was the one burning in her chest like a bonfire.

  Pure, raw desire.

  Evan Pike was about to walk out of her life, and she wasn’t ready for it. She wanted him to stay.

  The burning ache in her chest propelled her forward until she crashed into him, body to body. His eyes widening, he put his arms out to catch her, and his hand brushed the side of her breast. She sucked in a gasp.

  His eyes darkened to embers, heat flaring in their depths. Slowly, he ran his hand down the curve of her waist, part caress, part exploration. He lifted his other hand to her shoulder, his thumb sliding along the contour of her collarbone.

  He bent his head slowly, deliberately, his cheek brushing against hers. “Is this for show?” he whispered.

  She drew back and looked up at him, her heart pounding with fear. What was she doing? “I don’t know what it is,” she whispered back.

  He cupped her face between his large hands, his thumbs moving across the tracks of the tears she didn’t realize had spilled down her cheeks. “You’re a beautiful woman.” He said it aloud, where any of the listening devices could easily pick it up. “I want you.”

  She felt helpless against the onslaught of desire sparked by his soft declaration. Helpless against the answering fire that burned out of control. Still clutching the pages of Vince’s letter in her fist, she rose on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, driving him against the front door.

  His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. He gazed at her for a long moment, so long she felt as if she would combust. Then he dipped his head to kiss her, his mouth hot and soft and darkly sweet, like sugarcane.

  Her lips trembled apart, surrendering to the only thing in this upturned, maddened world that made sense. The universe spun around her, a kaleidoscope of exquisite sensations that made her lungs burn and her knees shake.

  Across the room, Patton made a playful growling sound, low in his throat, the sound seeping into the heated fog swirling around her brain. She dragged her
mouth away from Evan’s and looked over at Patton. He was lying on his stomach, the mangled blue fox between his paws. He picked up the toy in his mouth and gave it a violent shake.

  A cylindrical piece of metal flew out of the toy’s ripped belly and rolled across the floor toward Megan. She stopped it with her shoe and picked it up, staring.

  It was a large shell casing—maybe as large as a .50 caliber. There was no bullet inside, but what looked like tightly rolled pieces of paper had been stuffed into the shell.

  She showed it to Evan. His eyes widened.

  She tried to pry the papers out with her fingertip but couldn’t get any leverage.

  Evan pulled a multi-blade knife from his back pocket and handed it over. He bent close, his jaw rasping along her cheek again as he whispered in her ear. “There’s a small set of tweezers tucked into the knife casing.”

  “I’m going to be sad to see you go,” she said aloud as she found the tweezers and grabbed one of the sheets of paper. Clamping hard, she pulled it free. Four pieces of rolled-up paper came out. She saw they were covered with tiny writing.

  Unmistakably Vince’s handwriting.

  She scanned the pages that had writing on both sides of the paper. She found what appeared to be the first page of the missive and read it silently.

  Darling Meggie, if Patton’s the pup I remember, you probably found this five minutes after you gave him the toy.

  She smiled, even as tears welled up in her eyes. She thumbed them away and kept reading.

  I’m sending this information in the toy because I’m afraid the brass is looking at all the mail going out. These pages contain everything I know about what’s going on in Tablis, Kaziristan. I know some of it won’t make sense, but I hope to make it home soon to explain everything—

  Her vision blurred again. She blinked hard and read on.

  Keep this information safe. It could bring down a lot of people in high places.

  She looked up. Evan’s expression was one part fierce curiosity, one part gentle sympathy.

  He bent his forehead to hers, his breath rapid and hot. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered. “Get Patton. I’ll get your bag.”

  Shoving the roll of papers into her pocket, she did as he said, her hands trembling as she attached the leash to Patton’s collar. She gave him the empty cloth shell of the blue fox and he carried it happily in his mouth all the way to Evan’s car.

  Evan put Patton in the back while Megan got into the passenger seat. He came around the car and slid behind the wheel, turning to look at her briefly before his gaze dropped to the papers in her hand. “Is that what I think it is?”

  She nodded. “This is what they didn’t want us to find.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Isabel and Ben are at a late movie in Borland,” Megan told Evan as she closed her phone, “but she said we can leave Patton in the backyard and they’ll take care of him until I can come get him again.”

  “You have a very understanding family,” he murmured, distracted by the way his whole body still tingled from her kiss. He didn’t know what had caused her sudden overture—didn’t care, really. As long as they got to do it again.

  Soon.

  He followed her directions back to Ben and Isabel’s house, the road still unfamiliar and that much harder to navigate in the dark. They put Patton and his new toy in the backyard, left the leash on the front porch and returned to the car.

  “The cabin?” he asked.

  “For now,” she agreed, pulling the pages out of her pocket. She flicked on the sun visor light and peered at the tiny writing. “Most of this seems to be notes more than a letter,” she said. “He didn’t write out everything.” Frustration lined her brow. “I guess he planned to be here to interpret.”

  Her melancholy tone made his chest hurt. “He should’ve been here.”

  Her chin shot up. “But he’s not. So it’s up to us.”

  He liked that she seemed to be including him in the mission. Not just because his guilty conscience made him want to be there for her, but also because he liked being part of a team again. And if half the team was a leggy, beautiful mess of a woman who intrigued him like no one he’d ever met before—well, he’d just have to deal with it.

  The cabin lay still and stately in the moonlight. He parked on the gravel drive and cut the engine, watching the silent facade with wary tension.

  “I don’t see any movement,” Megan murmured.

  “Still, let’s leave our bags in the car until we take a look around inside.”

  “In case we need to make a run for it?” Her voice was low and bone dry.

  “Exactly.” He opened the car door. The loud creak of the hinges made him cringe. The slam of the door was worse. He knew he was being paranoid, expecting an ambush around every corner or behind every bush.

  Even though he stepped slowly up the porch steps, his boots thudded audibly on the wood planks. With a soft exhalation, he bent and pulled the Kel-Tec from his ankle holster.

  It was a strange feeling, this primal instinct to pull out a weapon before he entered a place. But that’s what his life had become, long before his trip to Gossamer Ridge. And the escalating threats against him—and now, Megan—had only honed the instinct to a razor’s edge.

  Beside him, a glint caught his eye. He glanced sideways and saw that Megan had already unsheathed her Ruger, ready to cover his back. She shot him a wry look and nodded at the door.

  He carefully turned the key in the lock and pushed it open. Nothing detonated. No sounds from within suggested an intruder lay in wait. Staying on the porch, he reached inside and flicked the switch. Light flooded the cabin’s spacious front room, illuminating furniture and decor but no bad guys lurking to take him or Megan down with a few well-aimed shots.

  Still, they moved together in unspoken unison, room to room, looking for any signs that someone had been here while they were gone.

  There was nothing. The place remained undisturbed.

  They finished their circuit in the great room again. Evan put away his gun and turned to Megan. “Why haven’t they found this place yet?”

  “Maybe they didn’t know to check your GPS unit after all.”

  “But they know I’m working with you.” He waved his hand at the cabin. “And this is definitely Cooper territory.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe they just haven’t yet connected you to the Gossamer Lake Coopers yet. Not all cousins are as close as we are.”

  “They seem ready to come to your aid in a heartbeat.”

  “Their mom practically raised us kids. Aunt Beth was a trained nurse, just like our mom. I think that’s how my parents met, through Aunt Beth.” Megan’s smile held a hint of melancholy. “We skinned a knee, we ran to Aunt Beth like she was our mom. We took family vacations with our cousins, too. Both sets.”

  “Both sets?”

  “My dad has two brothers—Uncle Mike and Uncle Jay. Uncle Mike has seven kids. Uncle Jay has eight.”

  That was a lot of first cousins, even for a Southern family. “You Coopers must be a fertile bunch.”

  She grinned. “Seems that way. Three of Uncle Jay’s kids are adopted, though. So the Cooper fertility genes can only account for five.”

  He had cousins all over Kentucky, mostly on his mother’s side. She had been a girl from the eastern hills, whose family had lived in the mountains and hollows for generations. But he barely knew any of them anymore. Hadn’t seen them in years, not since he rode a bus out of Cumberland and never looked back.

  “What are you thinking about?” Megan asked, apprehension coloring her raspy alto.

  Noting the dark smudges beneath her eyes and the weary lines on her face, he wished he’d never brought her into this mess. If there had been a way to keep her clear—

  But there hadn’t. He’d already gotten farther in two days working with her than he’d managed in two years. “I’m thinking it’s late and we’ve had a wretched day,” he said aloud.

  Her b
row creased. “That’s not all you were thinking.”

  “I was also thinking I should be sorry I kissed you,” he added honestly. “But I’m not.”

  Her lips quirked. “You didn’t do it by yourself.”

  Her lopsided smile sent heat jolting through him. “You know I want to kiss you right now, don’t you?”

  “I reckon I do.”

  He cupped her cheek in his palm, brushing his thumb across her lower lip. “So many really good reasons why we shouldn’t.”

  She sighed and backed away. “Startin’ with this.” She reached into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out the rolled-up sheets of paper she’d found inside the dog toy.

  “Why don’t we try to get some sleep before we worry about this?” he suggested. “It’ll be here in the morning.”

  “Can’t sleep,” she admitted. “But you go on to bed.” She crossed to the sofa and pulled the coffee table closer.

  He slid in next to her, covering her hands as she unrolled the papers. “Megan, don’t drive yourself until you’re sick. Vince wouldn’t want that. I don’t want that.”

  Her hands trembled in his. “We’re already so far behind.”

  He drew her around to face him. “I don’t know why Gates didn’t send the toy to you. Even if he was crooked, if he was in on it with the SSU, once he opened the package and saw it was just a toy, I don’t get why he didn’t send it then.”

  “And now we can’t ask him.”

  He stroked the tumble of red curls away from her forehead. “I know you want answers, but nobody said you had to be the one to find them. I’m in this until the end—I’ll do it for you. Give me Vince’s notes and let me handle it. You just go back home to your family and be safe—”

 

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